LIZA ⋆

OCTOBER 2

Perfect wouldn't be the exact word to describe today. In fact, it's an understatement. Maybe it's your habit of romanticizing life, but the autumn leaves seem to fall in a much slower, sweeter way these days. The wind that flows through your window feels a gentle reminder of the approaching winter. And every day, it feels a bit chiller, pushing everyone to put on more fabric to face the cold.

It has already been a week since you came to your hometown to spend the winter season with your family. But, to be very honest, it feels the exact same as living alone in Seoul because your parents are barely home; going on dates every now and then, abandoning you and your brother, Joshua. And it gets worse, because Joshua physically cannot stay at home for longer than one hour and always has to go out with his friends.

That leaves you, your emotional support—a crocheted heart shaped pillow and the emptiness of your nostalgic childhood home alone for almost the entire day. You didn't mind, though, because being a grown adult meant you had to get used to doing everything alone.

Like usual, you woke up early in the morning, not surprised to find no-one else in the house. After a few hours of laying around, you decided to do something productive—clean your room. So, you plugged your headphones and jammed to your favourite summer songs in the sole presence of winter. Not that you dislike winter, in fact it's your favourite, it's just your unpromising choice of music at the most random times.

Your taste in music is unmatched, though. You have full confidence in that.

You wiped the windows one last time, and leaned back to look at the entire room. A proud smile bloomed on your lips, satisfied with your much-needed hard work. And after all that, you deserved a treat. A sweet one.

You put all the cleaning essentials aside and jerk the dust off your hands before sliding your headphones down to rest around your neck.

As you open your bedroom door, you're met with an unfamiliar noise coming from downstairs. You head towards the staircase, taking conscious steps on it, trying to decipher the voices.

It should be Joshua, but you hear a much deeper and sweeter voice alongside. The tone sounds oddly familiar but you don't remember ever hearing the voice in your twenty-six years of living. It's obvious enough that your brother probably invited his friend over without informing you beforehand, but you still decide to risk it anyway.

In a very, very careful manner, you tip-toed your way down the stairs and leaned against the wall, peeking your head just enough to get a glimpse of the kitchen. It wasn't too far from where you were standing right now, and it shouldn't be a big problem to make a run for it without being seen in your old clothes that you wore because you didn't want to get the good ones dirty while cleaning.

But you're quick to hide behind the wall with a small gasp and change your mind within seconds. And the reason? An insanely gorgeous guy around the age of Joshua in your common room, unpacking a guitar. Your heart jumped a little, and you found yourself peeking again, just enough to get a better look at him.

His eyes traced the shape of an almond, coloured in the hues of the same. His black, flowy hair rested just above his upper neck, shining under the warm afternoon sunlight. His pink lips were pressed into a thin line, the corners curved like the softest smile you'd ever seen. He gently held the guitar with one hand, twisting it out of the carton box. Your heart refused to believe he wasn't an illusion of the love-sick mind. He was right there, in front of your eyes, all flesh and bones.

Just another second more, and maybe you could've gathered the courage to say something. Anything. But here your brother was, calling out for his friend with a name that sounded too familiar. Before his eyes could catch your sight, though, you were already racing back upstairs as quietly as possible.

“Jeonghan!” Joshua shouted from the front yard, sounding completely exhausted. A few more shuffling noises continued in the common room before a voice cut through.

“What's wrong?”

It was warm, light and clear. A confusing mixture of soft and deep. But angelic enough for a chill to run down your spine, and for your heart to soften. Then, the name that Joshua called, clicked in your mind.

“Jeonghan…” the name slipped from your mouth, curious and also aware at the same time. Pretty name, you thought. But you've definitely heard it somewhere before.

——

Your room felt too empty, too quiet. The silence was heavy with your own embarrassing internal monologue: You, an adult, had practically hyperventilated in a stairwell because of a man who looked like an angel and whose name you knew but couldn't place.

It had been atleast two hours, and Jeonghan was long gone—a beautiful phantom who had entered your home, dropped off your brother's things, and left without ever knowing he'd been watched, much less fled from. But the name, Jeonghan, was still stuck in your mind. It was an itch you had to scratch. You were an author; you solved puzzles for a living.

You were leaning against your pillow, trying to start a new show, or most probably, attempting to divert your mind from the guy named Jeonghan. Just then the muted clatter of the front door indicated that your parents were finally home from their date.

The soft tapping came almost immediately after. Your mother’s footsteps had paused just outside your door.

Knock, knock. Just two quick taps.

“Y/n, are you awake, honey?” her voice was low and warm. “I just wanted to tell you about the terrible lighting in the bistro before I forget.”

You smiled as soon as your eyes met hers, inviting her into the comfort of your room. But before she could launch into the decor review, a kind, clear voice called up the stairs.

“Y/n! I served your favourite cheesecake on a plate, it’s sitting right here in the fridge. Come get it before I accidentally mistake it for my own!” Joshua warned playfully, followed by a soft laughter from your dad. 

Your mother smiled, leaning against the door frame. “See? A devil disguised as a gentleman who might steal your snack. Come on, sweetie. You deserve a bite of something good after a long day.”

You pushed her blankets back with a laugh. “This guy…”

“Wait! Can you bring my phone from my room, please? It'll be quick!” Joshua shouted urgently, afraid you might ignore his words if he's a second late. Already halfway down the stairs, you sighed loud and dramatically before taking a full u-turn and dragging your foot along the steps.

“I need half of your cheesecake in return!” You exclaimed, earning a scoff from him. But he couldn't disagree, atleast, not while you're doing his work.

You marched into Joshua's room, intending to raid his bed looking for his phone, but spotted a dusty, faded photo album resting on his bedside table.

“2002.” — the cover read. Your eyebrows furrowed, your posture softening curiously. You grabbed it without hesitation, just wanting to have a look at it.

Holding the album tight against your chest with one hand, you searched through Joshua's bedsheets for his phone with another. You took his phone, ran to your room and hid the photo album under your pillow, your heart racing with uncertain hope.

You had an overwhelming feeling that Jeonghan might be someone you've known in your past.

Taking one last look at your perfect hiding spot, you shut the door behind you and crept down the stairs, as if you suddenly became too self aware. Then, clearing your throat, you plopped down on the couch beside Joshua and snatched his bag of chips.

“You know you could just ask for one and I won't bite, right?” Joshua remarked, clearly not bothered, yet feeling the need to make facts clear to you.

“Where's the fun in that?” You smiled, munching on your brother's favourite flavour of potato chips. You two continued to chat, and he continued to crack his very unfunny jokes, oblivious to the fact that his bedside table will be missing something tonight.

——

It didn't take long before evening passed by. For the first time, though, someone didn't have to tell you to go to sleep. Because the moment you were done with dinner, you were already taking two steps at a time towards your room. Your night routine lasted for a few minutes—a quick warm shower, your skin settling for only moisturizer for tonight. Because you had something much more exciting waiting for you other than your usual relaxing skincare.

Finally, you lifted your pillow and grabbed the photo album with enthusiasm, settling onto your bed with a soft blanket proving warmth till your waist. ‘2002’, it read, making you a bit confused until you flipped the cover. The first page contained photographs, dating way back to 2000.

12th April, 2002. It specified, followed by a bunch of photos of you and Joshua, racing through the nostalgic fields of your once favourite lilies. White t-shirt with a blue jean jumpsuit and a white breton cap, posing with a cute peace sign—Joshua, you recognised. Peeking over his shoulders from behind was you, dressed in a yellow printed bright frock, making you glow in the garden of flowers.

Your lips bloomed with a smile, and widened with each page you flipped, each photograph an embarrassing and lovely reminder of the beautiful childhood you’ve spent with your family.

You found yourself hooked to it, flipping past years of awkward childhood photos until you hit the deep past—the messy, grainy world of kindergarten.

And there it was. A picture of three small children covered in mud, squinting into the sun. A goofy Joshua was grinning, flanked by a messy-haired girl with two cute buns (you), and on the other side, a skinny, handsome boy with an angelic smile.

The realization was a punch to the gut. The handsome man whom you had stumbled into this afternoon wasn't just a stranger; he was a friend. He was the friend. Your first childhood confidante, the boy who shared his best toys, the one who had taught you how to tie your shoelaces, though wrong himself. And the one you had always found a bit more charming and special than the rest since the day you two met.

The friend from twenty-three years ago had spontaneously combusted into a full-blown adult attraction, all while turning into a distant memory in your mind.

The memory snapped the name into place: Jeonghan. He was the reason you and Joshua used to sneak out to the playground at sunset. The reason you learned addition and subtraction better than your classmates. He was a piece of your past, and you had never tried to look back for these whole 23 years.

You slammed the album shut, realisation hitting you like a jolt of electricity. It had been twenty-three years. Twenty-three years since the last time you saw that angelic smile, and today, you saw it all over again. Except it was much brighter and sweeter now.

You flip the photo album to that specific page again, carefully taking the photograph of seven year old Jeonghan, your heart melting at the sight just as it did all those years ago when he gave you his ice-cream after you dropped yours. Putting the album aside, you keep the photograph between the pages of your diary safely before turning the lamp off and tucking yourself in the sheets.

It leaves you on a cliffhanger all night—“If you stood before him, would he remember you in a heartbeat, or has your shared childhood simply faded into a past he would no longer care about?”

—

OCTOBER 4

With a huff, you placed the plastic bag full of snacks on the table, making your colleagues erupt in excitement.

“You're the best!” Seokmin stood up from his seat, clapping his hands like a toddler getting ice cream for dessert. Mingyu snatched the first thing he saw from the bag, a big wide grin stretching across his face as he giggled. Minghao, on the other hand, sighed at the sight unfolding before him. But not long after, he also got up, unable to avoid the temptation.

 “Oh my god! Where did you get this drink from? Everywhere I go it's always sold out…” Mingyu pouted, scanning the cold drink can with a frown.

“There's a shop just a few blocks away, I got all this from there.” You sat down on a chair, grabbing a small fruit cake packet. Seokmin swallowed his food, clearing his throat just to stupidly ask, “Do you just have this many snacks lying around the house or what?”

You paused and shared a look, almost sad. “This was supposed to be my monthly restock if y'all didn't just barge in my house without notice.”

Mingyu choked on his food, looking at you horrified. “That is your monthly restock? You eat all this alone?” He gasped, making Seokming and Minghao wheeze loudly.

“Hey, I have three other people living in this house!” You defended, unable to hold back your smile at his goofiness. Minghao lightly smacked Mingyu's shoulder, grinning from ear to ear.

“Maybe you should slow down on that sugar, or you’ll be meeting up with Dr. Jeonghan tomorrow.” He remarked while Mingyu sulked, and Seokmin threw himself on the floor, cackling.

You froze. Your hands stopped mid-air as your ears perked up, your heart pounding in your ribcage a little louder now. The name echoed in your memory, sending your mind into a spiral. Seokmin wasn't helping either.

“Also, didn't Jeonghan warn you that day too?” He doubled down as the room erupted in laughter while you sat there in complete silence.

Calm down, Y/n. There are thousands of other Jeonghan in this world.

The careless repetition of the name felt like an invasion. You wanted to interrupt, to confirm which Jeonghan they were talking about, but the name itself was a trigger. It silenced the question in your throat, leaving you with a blinding surge of nervousness and a heart that felt ready to beat its way out of your chest. Everywhere you turned, the name followed, not just a whisper but a persistent, inescapable sound—as if it were hunting you down. As if you had to fill in the gap of those twenty three years you've missed.

——

EARLIER THAT DAY.

“I'm not paying 5k for this and that's final.” You slammed your hand on the stall’s counter, frustrated. The middle aged shopkeeper annoyingly mirrored your actions, an insufferable expression painted on his face, clearly meant to provoke you.

“Then don't. Feel free to walk away, young lady.” He gestured towards the roadside, fueling your frustration. You snorted.

“Listen, uncle,” you leaned over the counter, ready to drop an earful. “I’ve been a customer of this store even before you stepped foot here, respectfully. So I don't understand why I'm having to deal with you this early in the morning just because your arrogance is out of control. I bought this exact one just yesterday and it was two times less than whatever price you're telling me to pay right now.” You spilled out everything under one breath, then leaned back huffing to grab the small menu.

“And mind you, this is not even 3k so you may be a bit sick in the head to think I'd pay you 5k.” You glared into the shopkeeper’s soul, and for a split second, you could see his expression falter.

Yes. Victory.

Silence. Then he began to argue again, leaving you jaw-dropped. The audacity of this man needed to be studied or you might just go insane on a random Thursday morning. But then, like a gift from the heavens itself, a deep, soft, and familiar voice cut through the tension. It came from directly behind you, blocking the sun and casting a sudden, sharp shadow. You froze for a beat. Two beats. then practically spun on your heel as the recognition hit.

There he was: the same captivating, brown almond eyes; the silky, dark, impossibly shiny hair. The beautiful, sharp detail of his cheekbones that you hadn't noticed before, and now that you had, the pang in your heart was almost painful. You could run away and hide—not just from the man, but the insane, radiant energy he possessed. It was a beauty so profound, so utterly gorgeous, you almost felt plain and unremarkable infront of him. You were looking directly at an angel's twin, made human.

His lips looked baby pink, soft and magnetic. You almost felt embarrassed at the way your eyes were travelling and scanning each and every detail—even his lips, but could you really blame yourself? He was Jeonghan. The same pretty, mischievous kid who used to chase you around dressed in a ghost costume who had now grown into such a fine man you almost couldn't believe your eyes. Just like he always guessed and remarked, he had grown taller than you thought he would, and it was taking your breath away seeing how he towered you so easily.

But why was he here?

“Ah, Mr. Shin?” Jeonghan spoke into the speaker of his phone, catching the shopkeeper's attention. His steps halted just beside you, although he hadn't met your eyes yet.

“Jeonghan-ah? Is something wrong, you don't call at this hour.” A voice followed through the phone almost immediately, and you instantly recognised the voice. It was Mr. Shin, the actual owner of the store you knew since childhood.

Jeonghan reached out to grab the menu, his eyes examining the price of the pastry you had wasted your past 20 minutes for. “Something is very wrong, actually,” he sighed, placing the menu back on the counter. “I didn't know you changed the prices for the strawberry chocolate mousse…”

You paused, fighting back a smile. You knew exactly where this was going now. He sounded almost sad, his expression worried and distressed, but you could tell it was fake. Even after all these years, you haven't lost the ability to tell he was faking it, although he looked too convincing to others.

The shopkeeper was horrified, and you loved each and every second of it.

“Wait what? I don't— I don't remember doing so. Are you sure you're not mistaken?” Mr. Shin sounded puzzled and worried, recalling everything he did before leaving for a few days of vacation.

He looked directly at the shopkeeper, causing him to startle a bit. “I can't be mistaken because that's what I'm being told by—”

“No, wait a minute! I'm sorry, I'm sorry, just take it!” He slid the pastry box towards you on the counter, panicked and scared for his dear job. “Don't complain, please, I beg you.”

Jeonghan glanced at his phone, then spoke, “Mr. Shin, I'll talk to you later, it's an emergency.” Before ending the call.

You were stunned. He was still so clever and troublesome, just a lot kinder now.

The shopkeeper bowed one last time before hurrying away to the other side of the stall, leaving you and Jeonghan alone. You hadn't looked away from him until now.

Grabbing the pastry box, you gathered every last bit of confidence left in you to turn to him with a tight-lipped smile.

“Thank you, Jeonghan—” the name slipped from your lips before you could process it, and you noticed the way his eyes immediately turned to look at you. You averted your gaze at the realisation, trying your best to not drown in the awkwardness. Your heart was racing at the sheer thought of your childhood bestfriend recognising you after twenty-three years. You were excited, even. Until he spoke. Too casually, too nicely and too normally.

“You know my name?” He asked, tilting his head with a genuine surprised look on his face. Your stomach dropped, the hint of eagerness in your eyes fading slowly.

He didn't recognise you.

You were a stranger to him right now, and at that very moment, you lost every intention to remind him. But you pushed the personal thoughts aside, thinking of an excuse to get out of the awkward situation.

“I heard Mr. Shin call you that on the phone,” you say, forcing a smile that he mirrored.

“Ah, ofcourse, that was nothing special. Just use this trick when needed, although I doubt there'll be a next time.” He joked with a soft chuckle, the sound sending a jolt down your spine. You nodded along, your smile reaching the eyes. He still carried a spark within him, enough to light up a person's mood.

“Enjoy your pastry, I'm in a bit of a hurry right now.” He said, glancing at the watch on his wrist. “See you around.” With one last look and smile, he jogged down the street. It was only when he reached the turn that you realised his words.

You do wish to see him around, hopefully.

——

OCTOBER 7

The morning sunlight shone through the tall windows into the small shop. You stepped inside, closing the door behind you gently. The room had dim lighting, each corner filled with musical instruments and lit up by the sun rays alone. The shop is owned by one of your grandfather’s closest friends, whom you've known for years by now. You stopped by the store to share some of the dumplings you had cooked this morning for your family as your mother reminded you of the fact that it was his favourite.

“Uncle?” You called out, looking around the room curiously. You walked inside further, your eyes glued to the various instruments. He has always been the biggest lover of music, if it wasn't obvious enough. Not receiving a response, you called out once again, a bit louder this time.

​"Y/n, I'm in the storeroom, hold on a minute!" Uncle Kang called out, his voice accompanied by the distinct sound of tools at work. You acknowledged with an 'okay' and set the lunch box on a small table in the corner.

The guitar leaned against the wall by the table, and a ridiculous, irresistible urge flared in you. You wanted to snatch it up and play, never mind that your skill was only mediocre. But just as you had moved to take a seat, the tiny bell above the entrance door chimed. You glanced up from the floor, your eyes instantly locking with familiar ones.

Your hands froze halfway. The guitar slipped your mind instantly. Your heart didn't just beat; it slammed against your ribs, once, a heavy, silencing thump. You blinked, hard, once, twice, three times, a desperate attempt to reset your vision and your reality. But the impossible was standing there: Jeonghan. He was here, he was everywhere. A shiver traced your spine. It was a coincidence, you told yourself, a trick of the city's sprawl, yet his shadow followed yours like a magnet.

“Ah, Jeonghan! You're here!” A voice suddenly echoed in the store, and Jeonghan had almost lifted his gaze, but you turned away. As fast as you could. You froze, a single, desperate thought screaming in your head: please don't let him recognise you—atleast, not as the one who sent him a matching request on a literal dating app two days ago. That too, accidentally. While stalking. Uncle Kang was standing infront of the store room, patting the dust off his shoulders.

“Good morning,” Jeonghan greeted, your heart melting as soon as you heard the sweet tone of his voice. Maybe it was a mix of fluttery nerves and a tiny bit of sweet panic at the thought of facing him. Or perhaps he just looked so wonderfully fine now, years later, that he felt like a brand new person—making your heart tap out a silly, fast rhythm it hadn't before.

“Good morning, good morning, take a seat.” Uncle Kang gestured for him to sit beside you, causing you to shut your eyes in defeat.

Okay, act like an adult.

You tracked the sound of approaching steps until they stopped. Then, with a soft sigh or perhaps just the scrape of wood on the floor, he pulled out the stool and sat down in the space next to yours. From the corner of your eye, you saw him carrying a gig bag—probably a guitar—which he settled against the wall on the floor just as Uncle Kang began to speak again.

“Just a moment, I'll be right back.” He announced. “Y/n-ah, can you pour him a glass of water?” He requested, shifting his gaze on you. You quickly darted your eyes between him and Jeonghan—who was just now registering your presence—before giving a slight, tentative nod. With a smile, uncle Kang turned away into the dusty storeroom again, getting busy with the tools.

Finally, you looked over at Jeonghan, his expression softening as soon as your eyes met. You offered a soft, polite smile that he mirrored.

​"It's you," he murmured, a sound of calm surprise. You gave a short nod in reply. "We meet again," you answered, surprised by the low, steady quality of your own voice, which seemed to rise from a place of unexpected composure. You saw his expression soften, then a small, knowing smile bloomed on his lips.

His smile was to fucking die for.

“Do you live nearby? It's almost impossible we've run into each other twice in a week.” He asked with a soft chuckle. His eyes followed you as you stood up from your seat and walked to a small cabinet to pour a glass of water for him.

“My parents live in this town, so I drop by on holidays to visit them sometimes.” You replied, placing the jug on the cabinet. “I moved out years ago.” You added, then walked over and handed him the glass of water. He hummed in acknowledgement, taking a quick sip of the water.

“What about you?” You questioned. He glanced at you, then back at the glass of water. “I grew up here as a child, but my family moved out too soon. I think about when I was like… seven?” He smiled, his expression softening slightly as he recalled. “I never visited after that. I think this might be my first time in years.”

You slowly nodded, biting down on your bottom lip. The words were right there, hot and eager on your tongue: I grew up here, too. I grew up with you. But the timing was wrong, the risk too great. Could he handle that much information all at once? Would he even care? Maybe your hopes were a ridiculous height, and all you'd achieve was an immediate, uncomfortable silence. Right now, you were sitting with him—as a stranger—and that was enough. You wouldn't poison the atmosphere just to ease your own mind.

“It must feel weird to see everything in here change so much.” Your voice dropped to a softer tone. ​He grew utterly still, his shoulder softening without a trace of tension. The look in his eyes held a moment of vulnerability, a silent pause before speaking. It was then he carefully formed his response, the words slipping one by one, like gentle steps.

“It really does. I keep trying to find the corner where the old bookstore was, but I can't even trace it. It feels like everything got scrubbed clean.” Then a quick chuckle left his mouth before he added. “I mean, I can't expect everything to be the same after more than a decade.”

You nodded slowly, your mouth a tight, thin line. A wave of pity, almost regret, washed over you for him. You didn't know why he'd been absent all these years, but you suspected the crushing weight of his studies was a major part of it—the curse of the "gifted student", who was supposedly immune to the very real pain of pressure. You understood that void perfectly: the hollow ache of a life half-missed. You knew, with a painful certainty, that you couldn't rewind time, couldn't reclaim those lost years, no matter how desperately you wished to.

“But hey, did you have to use my trick a second time, though?” Jeonghan’s voice cut through your train of thoughts. You registered the question and chuckled, shaking your head. “Thankfully, not yet.”

The sound of his laugh filled the space, chasing away the silence. You spotted his gig bag and gestured toward it with a slight tilt of your head. "You're here to get this repaired?”

​His eyes followed yours, and he shook his head with a small smile. “Just an exchange. Uncle Kang is particular about this specific guitar, so I volunteered.”

​“Ah, I see,” you said, your attention snapping from the bag to him. “If you haven’t picked the new one yet, let me show you around.”

​He studied you for a moment, a flicker of genuine relief crossing his face. “Please. Yes. I’d love that. I doubt he'll be finished tuning up today.” His weary sigh earned a quick laugh from you. ​You stood, the stool screeching a little on the floor. “Exactly, let’s get this over with.”

He nodded, rising from his seat as you started toward a part of the shop he’d never seen before. He followed, familiar with the layout yet thrown by the presence of a new door. You stopped, turned the knob, and stepped aside. Jeonghan stopped short, taking in the sight with unconcealed awe. This wasn't a shop; it was a vault. Massive cabinets and polished displays were packed with guitars of every conceivable make and style. The air felt different here—heavy with the scent of aged wood and lacquer. Each instrument, from the simplest acoustic to the most vibrant electric, seemed to hold its own unique story.

Jeonghan's breath hitched, and he choked, “This is... crazy.” He finally stepped past the threshold, shoulders slumping as he tried to take in the sheer scale of it all. You followed, letting him drown in the awe. You remembered that feeling—the moment you couldn't stand up from your knees when you first saw Uncle Kang's magnificent, hidden vault.

“I know. It feels like stepping into a musical dream,” you agreed, your voice hushed as you walked straight to a cabinet. The smooth, heavy wooden door hissed open at your touch. You glanced over your shoulder at Jeonghan, who looked lost amid the treasure. “Are you looking for something specific?”

He shook his head slightly, a small smile playing on his lips. “Not really, just with a pretty print is alright.” Hands tucked casually into his pockets, he walked over to where you stood. You nodded, immediately pulling out the ones you thought would catch his eye.

The two of you began your easy, rambling walk through the guitar section. It was full of easy laughter at the oddly broken guitars and hushed admiration for the beautiful ones. You were slightly stunned by how much Jeonghan knew. He wasn't kidding when he announced he'd be a “guitar genius” years ago—a time when he could barely manage to tie his own shoes.​

“What about this one?” Jeonghan asked, his hand hovering over an acoustic guitar lying on the far end of the cabinet. You immediately shot him a look of disapproval, scrunching your nose as you recalled your last experience with it.

​“Absolutely not. That might be the worst one here,” you declared with a definitive grimace, still vaguely icked by the memory of its dull, rattling sound. Jeonghan simply chuckled, a glint of amusement in his eye as he gave a slight nod. You turned your back on him, walking deeper into the room and launching into an explanation about the better models in the other display case.

​But then, you froze.

​A chill chased down your spine as the most exquisitely clear and resonant melody sliced through the air. The sound didn't just reach your ears—it enveloped you, stopping your breath mid-sentence.

​You spun around in a flash, completely astonished.

​Jeonghan stood there, the very guitar you had called the “worst one here” cradled in his arms. His fingers danced effortlessly over the fretboard, coaxing a sound so rich and magical it felt like a musical paradise had suddenly been unveiled. The melody filled the space, clean and captivating, leaving you utterly transfixed. You could only stare, your lips slightly parted in sheer awe.

​With a final, clean slide across the strings, the music ceased. He gently returned the guitar to the cabinet.

​“Wait a minute,” you managed to murmur, your voice barely a thread. You walked toward him, your eyes wide as if he’d just transformed into a superhuman. You reached into the cabinet, pulling the same acoustic guitar out again. “How did you—” You paused, genuinely floundering for words. “play it so… perfectly?”

​Your raw surprise made Jeonghan’s lips twitch; he had to bite down slightly to suppress a laugh. He inhaled, ready to speak, but you were already extending the guitar back to him.

​“Please play it again,” you pleaded, your expression a mix of urgency and desperation, a furrow deep between your eyebrows. “I need to hear it again.”

​Taken completely aback by your sudden, fierce passion, Jeonghan needed a few seconds to register the request. Then, a soft, amused smile finally broke free as he took the instrument back, dipping his head in a quick nod.

Jeonghan's smile deepened, a playful challenge in his eyes as he accepted the guitar. “I only know a few chords, though,” he teased, a blatant lie that made you roll your eyes.

That's how you two dropped everything and went back to the same spot to sit down.

You watched, mesmerized, as he settled the guitar against his chest, his gaze dropping to the fretboard with a sudden, serious focus.

He didn't launch into the complicated melody from before. Instead, his fingers started a pattern that was simpler, yet deeply moving: a slow, familiar, melancholic piece. It wasn't showy, but every note was perfectly placed, resonant, and clear—a testament not to the guitar's quality, but to the player’s skill.

The sound of the cheap wood vibrating against your chest was almost secondary to the pure feeling in the music. It was a song you had heard countless times, but played with a sincerity that made it sound entirely new. You found yourself swaying slightly, the initial shock giving way to a profound sense of calm. The way he manipulated the sound, softening a chord here, letting a note sustain there, was nothing short of artistry.

When he finished, the silence that followed felt enormous. He looked up, his expression innocent. “Better?”

You glanced up, locking eyes with him. You nodded, involuntarily and basically hating the fact that the music stopped. “I guess I'm just bad at this.” You chuckled, embarrassed as you recalled how you labelled the guitar ‘the worst one’, when, infact, it was perfectly fine.

The morning sunlight had long since surrendered to the warmer afternoon hours, but neither of you noticed the passing time. Uncle Kang, realizing you had everything completely figured out, had quietly slipped away with the lunch box ages ago.

“It's not like that. I've had my hated guitars before too.” He admitted, but you didn't budge. “Then, it was probably broken. I don't believe you'd embarrass yourself like me when you play so professionally.” You sighed, a small smile hovering on your lips.

He shifted, bringing the guitar back into his lap. “Want to try something simple? No labels, no judgment. Just... a chord?”

The afternoon sun, now a deep, buttery gold, stretched long shadows across the floor. You felt a quiet shift inside—the enormous silence had become a comfortable calm. You nodded, a genuine, unforced smile replacing the embarrassed one. “Yeah. I think I'd like that.” You reached out, slowly taking the neck of the guitar back into your hands, the light catching the polished wood. The lesson wasn't about the music; it was about the fear of failing, and that, at least, felt a little lighter now.

——

OCTOBER 9

The chair screeched against the floor, making Joshua hiss. Jeonghan rounded the table of his common room and plopped down on the couch beside Joshua, practically sticking to him like a magnet now.

“Can you literally leave me alone, you're a grown ass man, Jeonghan.”

“Well, I'm in need of some entertainment right now and you're not telling me about your long term girlfriend you soft launched yesterday.” He grinned teasingly, wiggling his eyebrows as Joshua glared at him.

“If it's so obvious, stop asking me,” Joshua sighed, scooting away on the couch to rest his elbow on the arm rest. Jeonghan clicked his tongue in disappointment, sinking into the couch with a bored expression on his face.

“Man, I'm just bored.” He grumbled, folding his arms as he stared up at the ceiling. “So basically in the whole friend group, I'm the only one who lacks a life partner now. Wow.” Jeonghan scoffed sadly, looking around the house as if he'd spot cupid somewhere in the corner.

“Well, not really,” Joshua's voice cut through the still silence as he scrolled through his phone. Jeonghan jolted awake, confused but eager.

“What do you mean?” He asked, adjusting his position to sit straight. Joshua tapped a few buttons on his phone screen before a small smirk bloomed on his lips.

“I mean this.” He said, flashing his phone screen toward Jeonghan. He immediately leaned close, eyes glued to the screen. Then his expression fell as soon as he understood—a whole new page on a dating app with his information and pictures.

Jeonghan snatched the phone from his hand, shouting complaints at the top of his lungs as Joshua fell to the floor laughing and wheezing.

“Are you sick!? I have a reputation to maintain, what the f—” He paused, stumbling on his own steps as he halted. “Wait, but I'm lowkey famous though,” he boasted, scrolling through all the list of people who wanted to match with him, a ton of them being his colleagues.

“See? That's why I—”

“Hong Y/N…” The name caught Joshua off guard, making him pause. Jeonghan stared at the phone screen, the words that left his mouth and the photo causing him to pause. Joshua stumbled away from the couch, immediately walking up to Jeonghan and grabbing the phone.

His jaw dropped. The name, the bio, the photo—it was you. His very own sister.

He stared into the screen, concerned and confused, but also feeling a bit cringe. The thought of his sister sending a match request to someone who had been like a brother to her in the past sounded too awkward to begin with. It sounded unbelievable too, because the request was from just yesterday, and Joshua is damn sure you don't remember Jeonghan even in your most nostalgic dreams.

“Wait,” Jeonghan murmured, peeking over Joshua's shoulder. “I know her—”

“You what!?” Joshua turned around at the speed of light, eyes widened. Ofcourse, he should know her as a childhood friend, not something more, nor something less. Jeonghan stumbled backwards, startled as he nodded slowly. Joshua shoved the phone closer towards his face, making him lean away, concerned.

“You mean this woman?” He repeated his question, but got the same answer. A quiet, simple nod. Joshua sighed in defeat, completely and utterly beyond confusion.

“How and where on earth…” he mumbled, putting his phone in his pocket as he made his way towards the couch again. Jeonghan leaned forward as soon as Joshua moved away, sighing in relief.

“What's so wrong with her anyway?” He asked, sitting at the edge of the dining table as he fixed table cloth. Joshua paused, coming to a realisation.

Jeonghan had probably seen you around. He definitely doesn't recognise you. Definitely.

“Literally everything,” Joshua sighed, having no intentions of telling him as he rested his head on the palm of his hand as he scrolled through his phone, stressed.

“Why? Do you know her? Who is she?” Jeonghan looked up from the table, raising an eyebrow as he tapped his foot on the wooden floor.

“No, and you don't have to either." Joshua dismissed with a clear tone of strictness in his voice. Jeonghan clicked his tongue, disappointed.

“Well, I think I like her. Send me her account.” Jeonghan said as he took out his phone from his pockets, ready to send a text as soon as possible.

“Yah!” Joshua huffed, eyes wide and eyebrows furrowed in annoyance. Jeonghan reciprocated his expression.

“What!” He exclaimed. “Stop acting like that!”

“I told you you don't have to know her!” Joshua repeated.

“Why! Is she someone so special to you?” Jeonghan questioned.

“Yes, right, she is. So what?”

Jeonghan opened his mouth to say something but stopped, and sighed, turning away. “So I was correct. I am dying single and alone.” He pouted, scrolling on his phone, uninterested.

“There are literally hundreds of patients who come to the clinic just to see your stupid face everyday by the way.” Joshua reminded him of the fact that people were dying over him, yet he always told himself that he didn't have anyone.

“They just…” Jeonghan paused, scrunching his nose. “They're nice, just not what I think I need.”

“Then leave it up to me, I'll find you one like literally next week.”

“Only if she's better than Y/n, tho—”

“Don't get on my nerves!” Joshua threw the couch pillow, hitting Jeonghan's head as he yelped in pain.

——

OCTOBER 10

Jeonghan felt like he was staring at a mirror reflecting his own stupidity. An idiot. A brain-wrecking fool. How could he have been so blind? He blankly stared at the photograph resting on the dark wooden table, the image itself a silent, sudden heartbreak—like the needle skipping on a record just as the music soared.

The photograph was old, a little faded, but safely preserved in a plastic sleeve. Yet, it felt less like a precious memory and more like a heavy revelation dumped on him all at once.

“Mom…” he finally managed, his voice a low drag. “Are you absolutely sure this is Joshua’s sister? It could be a friend… a cousin.”

​His mother didn't even look up from slicing strawberries. She gave a confident shake of her head, the action final and uncompromising. “I’m not mistaken, dear. Not at all. I even remember the exact park, the exact day your father took this.”

​A bizarre cocktail of emotions—surprise, a dizzying happiness, a sense of rightness—churned in his stomach. A precious, lost piece of his childhood had been right here, close enough to touch. He’d unknowingly found a profound connection with someone who now filled his thoughts.

​But the joy curdled into a sharp, bitter regret. The easy, genuine smile you brought to his face—the one that was rarely offered to a stranger1—was shattered by the ghost of a childhood promise.

​Brother. He’d sworn to be your strongest brother.

​How, in the face of that memory, could he ever look at you now as a woman? How could he see you as anything other than the little sister he'd promised to protect?

But a more bitter, chilling thought silenced him: Did you know? Were you aware from the very start? You couldn't have been as blind as he was. So, why didn't you tell him?

——

OCTOBER 11

The sharp, metallic slam of the mailbox echoed through the quiet afternoon, cutting through the soft hum of the dishwasher your mother was running. You were curled up on the common room sofa, a half-written chapter open on your laptop, pretending to work while really just scrolling through every possible old photo of Jeonghan you could find. Your mind was a messy battlefield: disbelief that you had been so willfully blind, and a terrifying elation that the man who had effortlessly charmed you was, in fact, your childhood confidant.

“Y/n-ah! Did you order something?” your mother called out, her voice slightly muffled.

You closed the laptop lid with a weary sigh. “No, Mom! I don’t think so.”

A minute later, she walked into the living room, her arms full. Full of things. There was a massive white bakery box tied with a silky silver ribbon, a small bouquet of delicate white orchids, and nestled amongst them, a thick, cream-coloured envelope.

She set the gifts on the coffee table with a surprised, pleased smile. “The delivery man just dropped these off. It was a rather big parcel. And guess who sent this?” She asked, more than excited to reveal the name.

“...who?” You asked, still processing the mountain of gifts. “Yoon Jeonghan.” She chirped, picking up the elegant, cream envelope. “I think he is back in town, but oh I wish he visited himself. That boy remembered us after decades.” She smiled before handing the envelope to you.

“And he specifically marked this one as ‘Read First.’ for you.” She looked at you with an almost too-knowing glint in her eyes.

You stared at the pile, your heart beginning to beat a frantic, uneven rhythm. Orchids. He still remembered. It felt too grand, too fast for a person who, as far as he knew, was still a complete stranger who haggled over pastry prices and guitar chords.

But then your mother pushed the cream envelope toward you.

“Go on,” she urged, heading back to the kitchen. “I’m putting the box in the fridge. That beautiful cake needs to be saved for later.”

Your hands were shaking slightly as you picked up the envelope. It was heavy, sealed with a sophisticated wax stamp you couldn't quite decipher. You carefully broke the seal, unfolded the single sheet inside, and instantly recognized the elegant, slightly tilted handwriting.

You read it once, quickly, the words a blur of shock and excitement.

You read it again, slowly, letting the weight of each line settle in your chest.

Now, before I begin, I asked Joshua.

Yes, you knew everything. No wonder I connected with you so well, orchid. I know it sounds sudden but let’s meet tomorrow, there’s too much to catch on. Hopefully I’m not getting stood up –

hannie

Your breath hitched, painfully trapped in your throat. He knew. The realization hit with the force of a sudden stop. How? It didn't matter. Your internal world exploded: joy and terror indistinguishable in the chaos. Were you free now, or just exposed?

The air left your lungs with a soft puff. Orchid. The silly, childish nickname he'd given you because you were holding two orchids in your hands on the first day you met. And Hannie. Your own silly nickname for him. Twenty-three years had vanished in a single, perfectly written word.

You lifted your head, a dizzy smile blooming on your face. He knew. And he was asking to meet. The suddenness of it was jarring, but the sincerity, the sheer relief in his words, was palpable. He hadn't wanted to be a stranger either.

You checked the small note tucked into the end of the letter. “Tomorrow. 10 AM. The old clock tower near the riverside park.”

10 AM. You smiled. You wouldn’t be late for this.

——

OCTOBER 12

The cold rain wasn't a sprinkle; it was a rhythmic, drumming downpour. You were huddled deep under the narrow, cracked awning of the old closed bus stop nearest the clock tower, pulling the sleeves of your cardigan over your hands. It was 10:05 AM, and the riverside park was deserted, save for the relentless drumming of water.

You'd arrived too early, a flutter of excitement making punctuality impossible. Part of you was eager to witness the end of that polite, awkward distance—the shift from stranger to friend—and the other part simply dreaded being late for a moment you'd awaited so long.

A few minutes later, you heard a hurried splish-splash and looked up. Formal was the last word to describe Jeonghan's entrance.

He came jogging into view with a huge, bright yellow plastic bag pulled over his head like a makeshift, ridiculous poncho. It was a perfect absurdity that made you instinctively laugh under your breath, your nervousness dissolving for a split second. He skidded to a stop, quickly shoving the bag off and running a hand through his perpetually damp, black hair, sending droplets flying.

“I'm sorry I kept you waiting,” Jeonghan huffed between breaths, his voice warm despite the cold. He was already wet, but the smile on his face was sweet and genuine. “And this isn't a very ideal way to show up.”

“I think you're perfectly fine, hannie,” you assure with a smile, the nickname slipping through like an old, familiar habit that happens before you realise it. His lips twitched at the name, the nervousness that was tightening in his chest earlier soothing now.

“And I think you're lying, orchid,” he replies, a velvet layer of playfulness in his voice that makes your heart flutter. You smile, a genuine and soft one.

You lean in just a little, your gaze warm and steady as you hold out a handkerchief. “I mean it. A little rain can't possibly change that this warmer tone of brown suits you alot.” You pause, offering a gentle, almost shy smile. "Now please, dry off a bit before you freeze.”

His gaze lingers on you for a second longer, then he gently takes the handkerchief. “You think so? I think green suits me more, doesn't it?” He asked, keeping his eyes on you as he began wiping his face and hand.

You watch a kid passing by on his bicycle under the rain before nodding toward the street, a soft laugh escaping you. “You're not wrong,” you confirm, your voice soft and honest. “But I'm worried that sweet smile of yours is about to turn into a shiver. We can debate colors once you're standing next to that restaurant heater. Come on, let's get going.”

——

The cozy ambience of the traditional restaurant soothed your cold senses as your fingertips absorbed the warmth from the cup of hot coffee. You look outside the small, wooden window, the rain tapping mutely against the glass. The weather was completely contrasting with your heart. The rain brought immense cold, winter air swooshing through and through the town, but you felt warm inside.

You don't know if it's the coffee, or the fact that you were sharing a day with someone you'd known 23 years ago.

A soft, weary sigh left you. Your eyes traveled back to the door that led to the restroom, waiting for Jeonghan to step outside any moment.

To be honest with yourself felt like a punishment. You were nervous. You didn't know what to say to him. You don't even know if he enjoys grapefruit now as much as he did back then. Why is fate even bringing you together again?

“Did I take too long? I'm sorry,” Jeonghan's voice pulled you out of your thoughts as he sat down across the table, his hair looking a little less damp. You shake your head, wearing a small smile.

“No, not at all.” You reassured, adjusting your position on the cushion.

“This feels nice, although I don't remember the last time I visited this restaurant.” Jeonghan says, grabbing the coffee mug that you ordered for him. It was lukewarm, heat spreading through his hand as he wrapped his fingers around the cup, seeking warmth. 

“Me too, actually,” you responded, turning to face him better. “I don't remember stepping in here after you went away. This was like a resting place in the evening after we played all day. I guess my 5 year old mind just couldn't wrap around the fact that she'd have to spend time without her friend.”

A soft smile ghosted your lips as you recalled, your finger tracing shapes absent-mindedly on the wooden table. Jeonghan's eyes softened, his heart tugging at the memory. He felt guilty, regretful and empty whenever he thought of his childhood days. His memories became a blur whenever he tried to think of the days after he moved away. It's faded, dusty and forgotten.

“Well…” Jeonghan's voice was a soft, low murmur, and you would barely catch it under the sound of the heavy rain outside if you weren't so absorbed in the moment. “It was unfair, we shouldn't have been forced to separate as kids.”

You managed a small, subtle nod, your lips flattening in a tight lipped smile. “Hey, I don't think I'm prepared enough to talk about the past yet. I might bawl my eyes out.”

A soft, breathy laugh followed your words, and you honestly wouldn't be able to take it all without a drop of year rolling down your cheek. Jeonghan's eyes drifted to the weather outside, then dropped to the mug he placed on the table with a quiet thud.

“Then we won't,” he said, his voice softer than ever, a smile gracing his lips. “I’m not really able to sort my mind out yet, but I felt like I had to meet you. I was… anxious that if I wasted any more time, I'd lose this chance.”

Jeonghan wasn't looking at you, but you couldn't look away from him. He had a relaxed, thoughtful, almost pensive expression on his face, his finger tracing the mouth of the cup. For the first time since you'd met him, you truly studied his face, taking in every subtle detail that had changed. And now that you realise, he hasn't changed so drastically for you to not recognise him at first glance.

“I'm sorry,” the words slipped out before you could think straight, your emotions taking over your tongue. Jeonghan raised his gaze, his eyes, which held a hint of confusion, lingering on you.

“Why?” He tilted his head, his eyebrows lifted slightly.

You bit your lower lip, briefly meeting his eyes. “For not telling you,” your voice wavered lightly, your eyes lingering on his hands for a moment before you squirmed on your seat, locking eyes with him. “Even though I knew everything.”

Jeonghan's lips curved into a smile, and a flicker of amusement crossed his face. “You almost made me feel better about myself,” he chuckled, observing your face for a split second. “But no, it's not you who should be apologising. I literally met you, talked to you, even shared a guitar, and still had the stupidity to ask you how you knew my name.”

A quick chuckle escaped you, forcing you to cover your grin and bite back a full laugh. Propped up on his elbow, Jeonghan watched, his cheek resting against the back of his hand, his eyes glittering with focused amusement.

“To be honest, I found out about that through a photobook that Joshua had in his bedroom from ages ago.” You admitted as you sheepishly glanced at Jeonghan. He leaned forward with interest, keeping his arms folded on the table.

“Joshua has a photobook? From our childhood?” He asked, receiving a nod from you as a response. Jeonghan sat back slowly, a deeply suspicious look spreading across his face. “Wait. Does it have a photo of me falling down from the stairs and landing my head straight on the huge wall ahead, then dad had to drive me to ER?” 

You wheezed, nodding at the memory that always stayed as clear as day in your mind. Jeonghan laughed along, but his eyes were following your every movement. He noted every detail he could: the curve of your lips looked so familiar even after years, your eyes still crinkled whenever you laughed, and your hand still instinctively went to tuck your hair behind your ear, the same nervous habit he remembered.

Your laughter died down to a soft, happy sigh. Jeonghan was still observing you, his initial amusement giving way to a more sincere, gentle smile. He waited patiently for you to catch your breath, the sound of the rain and the soft restaurant murmur filling the brief silence.

“Well,” you finally said, wiping a stray tear of laughter from your eye, “it has a picture of you right after the incident. Your head's wrapped in a giant white bandage, and you’re giving the camera a grumpy look while holding a melting popsicle. Joshua wrote ‘The Great wall of Korea (Jeonghan's version)’ underneath it.”

Jeonghan let out a loud, incredulous laugh, shaking his head. “Oh my God. That idiot kept that? I never healed from that embarrassment.” He paused, leaning back in his seat and running a hand through his slightly damp hair. “But seeing you laugh like this… it brings back a lot. Maybe it's not too late yet.”

“It was never too late. I mean, atleast not until we die.” You chuckle softly, looking at him with a glint of newfound hope in your eyes.

——

The air was sharp and cool against your cheeks. You and Jeonghan had left the warm anonymity of the café, stepping onto a quieter, tree-lined street where the residual cold drizzle kept the atmosphere misty and clean. He held the umbrella high over both of you, moving with a calm, easy rhythm that finally made the overwhelming tension from earlier feel manageable.

“You know,” you said, enjoying the comforting sound of the light rain hitting the nylon above your heads. “Your schedule seems surprisingly flexible for a man who claimed his life was just 'work.' Are you secretly retired? Does aunt know?”

Jeonghan chuckled, the sound warm and close. “Let's just say my team can handle things for a few more hours. I'd rather be here, judging your choice of umbrella color.” He nudged his shoulder lightly against yours, a casual, friendly gesture that was anything but casual.

“Well I think black and yellow is a cute combination.” You were about to continue, when a sudden splash of color caught your eye. Tucked into the wrought-iron fence of an old house was a dense burst of late-blooming, dark purple flowers.

"Woah, what are these flowers?" you murmured, stopping abruptly to admire the vibrant hue against the muted backdrop of the rain-damp street.

Jeonghan stopped with you, pulling the umbrella back slightly to give you a clear view. He looked at the flowers, then back at you, a soft, unguarded look in his eyes. He lowered his voice, just for you.

“They're called 'Love-in-a-Mist',” he explained, his tone gentle and patient. “I think they’re beautiful because they shouldn’t survive this late in the year, but they do anyway.”

He shifted the umbrella, ensuring you were perfectly shielded. For a long moment, he simply looked at you, the easy banter gone, replaced by profound sincerity.

“Look,” he said softly, his voice barely rising above the sound of the mist. “I know I might've asked to meet too soon. I'm sorry. I haven’t figured out... the right way to be around you yet. But I'm having a really good time, Y/n.”

His lips bloomed a small, honest smile. You couldn't help but reciprocate, you hummed softly and nodded in understanding. But before you could say a word, his phone blared with an urgent, piercing alert tone. It was a sound that signaled immediate, non-negotiable crisis.

The change in him was instantaneous and shocking. The warm, playful man vanished. His eyes went cold, clinical, and intensely focused. He answered the phone with a low, firm, authoritative voice.

“This is Jeonghan. What's the status? I need a clear assessment of the damage. Is the site secure? I'm ten minutes out. Tell the team I need everyone prepped immediately.”

He snapped the phone shut, the decision final. He was already moving.

“Y/N, I have to go. Now. This is... a situation that requires me there immediately. I’m sorry and I'll call you, okay?”

He thrust the umbrella into your hand, the weight of the object a startling substitute for his sudden absence. He turned on his heel without waiting for your response, and sprinted away down the street.

You stood alone on the damp sidewalk, the umbrella heavy in your hand feeling suddenly foreign and huge in your hand. The air, which had felt warm moments ago, was now just a cold, biting mist.

You watched the space where Jeonghan had just been, your mind refusing to process the speed of his departure. One second, he was looking at you with that gentle, sincere expression, making a sweet, playful promise. The next, he was a cold, efficient stranger barking commands into a phone, sprinting away as if you were entirely irrelevant.

You blinked once, hard. The silence was deafening now, broken only by the persistent tap-tap-tap of the drizzle hitting the umbrella above your head.

Your heart, which had just been thrumming with anticipation, felt like a small, startled bird trapped in your chest. You walked a few steps, dragging your feet, the sound loud on the wet pavement.

You looked down at the umbrella he had thrust into your hand, its handle still slightly warm. It was his last physical trace, the only evidence that the moment of connection hadn't been a dream.

You kicked a small, loose pebble across the sidewalk, feeling the sudden, ridiculous surge of sulky frustration.

"Unbelievable," you mumbled to the empty street, your voice muffled and small. You tightened your grip on the umbrella. "A situation at the site? Is that really more important than finally meeting your best friend after two decades?"

The absurdity of the comparison made a tiny, bitter laugh escape you. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair that you were finally making progress breaking through the initial awkward barrier, only to have his entire secret, high-stakes life intervene. He had chosen the crisis over the connection, leaving you holding his umbrella and his unspoken promise to walk you home.

——

The day went by with absolutely no text or call from Jeonghan, leaving you feeling forgotten. You held your phone as your finger hovered above the keyboard many times, only to drown in your thoughts again and refuse to be the one to reach out first.

It wasn't stubbornness, it was self respect. He was the one that abruptly left and you stood under that umbrella all alone. He had some explanation to do, and you weren't going to ask him for it.

But he called a day later, repeating apologies like it was a prayer, a routine. You couldn't really say ‘it's fine’ sincerely until you understood his situation, but you did say it, atleast for the name's sake.

——

OCTOBER 15

The air outside was cold, damp, and perfectly still—the kind of light weather after rain that felt comfortable even when large puddles covered the streets. You were ready, dressed in your heaviest coat, feeling a tight, wary tension coiled in your chest. You needed answers, but you didn't want to show how much his abrupt departure had affected you.

You peered through the window before opening the door.

Jeonghan was standing just outside your garden gate. He was leaning against the stone pillar, hands shoved deep into the pockets of his heavy wool coat. He looked tired and slightly rumpled as if he hadn't gotten enough sleep because he was worried. He was completely still, patiently waiting, exposed to the cold air.

His car was idling silently at the curb nearby.

When you pulled the front door open, the sound drew his attention instantly. He straightened up, pushing off the pillar, his eyes meeting yours with a look of pure, focused sincerity.

You walked down the path, the crunch of your shoes on the damp asphalt loud in the quiet street.​You walked down the path, the crunch of your shoes on the damp asphalt loud in the quiet street. You simply reached the gate and waited for him to speak.

​“Good evening,” you greeted softly, a subtle smile on your lips. You noticed the way Jeonghan's worried expression softened, a huge weight—one he didn't even realize he was carrying—lifted off his shoulders.

​He opened his mouth to speak, his voice just above a whisper. “I almost thought you wouldn't want to see me again.”

​Jeonghan's face wasn't marked by panic, but by a deep, weary guilt. His eyes, though relieved you were here, still held a gentle seriousness. He had resolved many high-stress situations with unmatched calmness, but this felt different. He looked like he genuinely needed this conversation as much as you did.

​”I need to apologize properly, Y/n,” he continued, his tone low and soft, conveying a deep respect. “I know I left you confused.”

​You watched him carefully, realizing how much the awkwardness was genuinely affecting him. You knew this conversation needed to be serious, but you needed a break in the tension.

​“Well, I'm not very convinced yet,” you replied, leaning slightly against the gate. You managed a lighthearted, playful tone. “You might have some bribing to do.”

​A flicker of genuine relief and warmth crossed his features, melting some of the fatigue around his eyes.

​”I will,” he said immediately, his voice earnest. “I want to, and I need to. I promise I won't make the apology feel half.”

​You smiled at him then—a warm, true smile that reached your eyes, signaling that while the issue wasn't resolved, you were willing to listen.

​In that brief moment, Jeonghan's composure slipped. His heart gave a heavy, rapid jump in his chest, a purely physical reaction to the sight of your unguarded warmth. He instantly told himself he was being stupid; he shouldn't be getting distracted from the actual, serious reason he was here. He tried to convince himself it was just the residual nervousness from the emergency call, causing his heart to beat a little faster than usual.

​He tried to smile back fully, managing only a quick, controlled curve of his lips before he gestured and guided you toward the idling car.

​“Let's go,” he murmured. “I have the perfect spot for you to feel a bit better.”

——

You stepped outside the car, the crispy autumn leaves crushing beneath your shoes as the cool breeze hit almost immediately, making you hug your torso tightly. You walked a few steps ahead, admiring the view as Jeonghan closed the car door behind you.

The lookout point was not a formal park, but a wide, flattened shoulder of the hill, edged by a low, weathered stone wall. Along this wall, facing the illuminated city, were several sturdy, built-in wooden benches, permanently installed for visitors. They were worn smooth by the seasons.

Beyond the wall, the world dropped away.

​The rain was long gone, and the sky above was a breathtaking canvas of deep, cold navy, pricked everywhere by fiercely bright stars. Directly in front of you, the vast, sprawling city was laid out like a geographical map made of light—a mesmerizing, chaotic blanket of white, gold, and amber.

​The distance was immense. The usual sounds of horns and traffic were completely absent, replaced only by a low, continuous hum—the abstract, collective sound of thousands of lives being lived far below.

“I drove up here because I knew we couldn't do this conversation next to a cash register.” Jeonghan's voice, low and gentle, blended seamlessly, making the silence feel even softer. He stood behind you, maybe a few steps away, but you felt him come close just a bit, enough for you to feel the warmth radiating from his body.

“I think you like it,” he remarked, a soft smile ghosting his lips. “Maybe a bit too much.”

You tilted your head, a relaxed smile already on your face. “I like it here. It feels like I'm looking at Beon-dong from the sky.” You say, turning your head and glancing at him for a brief second. He hummed in response before a comfortable silence fell, the chirping of crickets and the faint sound of wind making the atmosphere peaceful.

“I'm sorry,” then, it finally happened. Jeonghan's gentle voice reached your ears, and your eyes drifted off to a tree that stood a few feet away. He didn't wait for a response, nor an action, and continued with the same tone.

“It was disrespectful to just leave you there all alone, especially in that weather,” he said, his gaze flickering to you before it faced ahead at the town lights. “I might've looked or sounded crazy after that phone call, but I need you to know it was just… important. Too important. Someone's life was at stake, and I had to be there.”

You spun around, a subtle shock instantly painting your face, your lips parting in silent confusion. "Had to be there...?"

​Jeonghan nodded, his gaze meeting yours for a heavy moment before dropping to the floor. A low, weary sigh escaped him, an answer in itself. “It's my job. I always have a life on my hands, depending on me completely to save it. It's scary, sometimes, but it feels like I'm built for this now.”

Your eyes never left him as he spoke, taking in the way his calm, soft expression didn't match his heavy words. His eyes were quiet, settled on the town beneath the hill. He kept his hands deep in his pockets, and the only break in the stillness was his smart watch that would light up on its own, flashing a quick glance at his long schedule.

“You…” you murmured, your eyes lingering on his face as if you were trying to see through him. “You're a doctor?”

Jeonghan's eyes turned to you, a glint of surprise in them. “You got it.” He chuckled, his lips blooming with a charming smile.

——

“So 7 year old Jeonghan, who taught me how to cheat better without getting caught, was actually serious when he did experiments with thermocol hearts?”

Jeonghan's bright, chiming laugh filled the air, his eyes reflecting the dazzling, scattered jewels of the town lights far below. You glanced at him, a warm grin stretching across your face. He took a shaky breath to quell the laughter, then turned to you, his smile reaching his eyes—a soft, genuine curve.

​“I guess so,” he managed, chuckling quietly. “He really took it seriously.” His gaze drifted back to the view. You took a moment, letting the cool evening breeze wrap around you, smelling the faint scent of pine before you spoke again. “And I’m really proud of you.”

Jeonghan's cool composure visibly cracked. His expression softened, a subtle smile touching his lips, and his eyes glinted with a raw, unmistakable gratefulness. He was genuinely taken aback. Slowly, his gaze turned to meet yours.

​Your smile didn't waver; it grew warmer, an open, honest expression that met his gaze and confirmed your sincerity.

​“Although that doll of mine never healed from your experimental ‘surgeries',” you said gently, “she’d be happy to know she wasn't sacrificed for nothing.”

​Jeonghan blinked, his chest constricting. The sudden silence seemed to amplify his heartbeat, a loud, heavy thump-thump in his ears, and he prayed you couldn't hear it. His face held nothing but pure gratitude—the exact reassurance he hadn't realized he’d been craving. He had heard the words from his parents, but hearing them from you, now, was different. A tremor of emotion ran through him, and he had to look away as his lips twitched, threatening to bloom into a wide, unguarded grin.

​He took a breath, letting a fraction of his usual coolness return. “Thanks,” he replied, his voice surprisingly steady. Then, the corner of his mouth lifted into a smirk. “You’ll get a complimentary discount on your first heart surgery.”

​The dark joke landed perfectly, making you laugh—a bright, genuine sound—as he finally allowed himself a small, fond chuckle.

——

OCTOBER 18

The university library was quiet, warm, and smelled pleasantly of old paper and dust. You were hunched over a spread of notebooks at a large mahogany table in the reference section, your forehead resting against the cool wood in a gesture of absolute defeat.

“I just don't know why she wouldn't trust him!” you groaned, lifting your head. “It makes no sense for her character arc.”

Mingyu, your colleague, leaned in close, his posture easy and familiar, his large frame crowding your space slightly. He rested his elbow on the table, tilting his head. “She wouldn't trust him because she's always been betrayed,” he whispered back, gently tapping a note on your page. “You need to plant a seed of doubt, Y/n. Something small, something unavoidable.”

You laughed, a quick, genuine burst of air. “You're right, you're always right!” you said, patting his arm.

A few minutes later, the door to the reference section hissed open, and someone walked in. But you two were too engrossed in fixing the plotholes to see people come and go.

It was Jeonghan—wearing a simple, dark turtleneck and his thin, silver-rimmed glasses, presenting a look of focused purpose.

His gaze was immediately trained high, locked onto the section of the shelves that held the obscure medical journal he needed. He walked directly to the required shelf, his attention entirely devoted to finding the rare volume.

He pulled out the heavy journal with quiet satisfaction. It was only after the book was safely in his hands that he allowed his concentration to break. He leaned back slightly against the shelf, and his gaze drifted down and across the room.

That's when he saw the table.

And that's when he saw you.

A soft, genuine smile began to form on his face—he was completely unprepared to see you here, in the serious, quiet corner of the city. He started to take a step toward the table, eager to greet you, but he stopped short.

He registered the man sitting beside you—Mingyu. The younger colleague leaned in close, his posture easy and familiar, his shoulder lightly pressed against yours as he pointed to your notes. You both looked utterly engrossed in a private consultation.

Jeonghan frowned. Recognizing Mingyu, he instantly decided not to disturb, assuming that it had to do something with your work. He turned his attention back to his books.

As he shifted the heavy journal, he noticed a brightly colored paperback wedged sideways next to his serious tome. He pulled it out of idle curiosity. The title screamed in bold font: “10 Ways Guys Act When They Like Someone.”

Jeonghan frowned, flipping it open. His eyes landed on the line at the top: “He Gets Too Physical.”

He immediately glanced back at your table. Mingyu was now resting his chin on his hand, tilting his head dramatically, his large frame occupying your space as he spoke earnestly about plot twists.

They are colleagues. That's professionalism. But why is his arm practically around her? He quickly flipped to the next page, trying to rationalize the strange, tight feeling in his chest.

The next point read: “He Finds Excuses to Delay Leaving.”

Just then, Mingyu sighed dramatically. “Okay, I'm starving. I need coffee. You are not to move until I get back. This is the crucial part.” He then paused, looking down at his notes for an exaggerated amount of time before slipping away.

​He just found an excuse to come back and delay this. This book is absurdly accurate.

Jeonghan felt a knot tighten in his chest. He snapped the paperback shut, looking genuinely irritated with the book's author, and shoved it back onto the shelf.

He took one last, lingering look at your table before turning to leave.

But you looked up just as he was turning away. Your eyes widened with immediate surprise, then lit up with a brilliant, genuine smile.

“Jeonghan-ah?” you called out softly. “What are you doing here?”

Jeonghan froze mid-step. The shock of being seen, combined with the warmth of your spontaneous smile, instantly melted his… whatever he was feeling a second ago. A true, full smile broke across his face.

“Y/n,” he replied, walking slowly toward the table, adjusting his sleeves. “Just borrowing a ridiculously outdated journal. I figured you and Mingyu were having a serious conversation so I just decided to slip away.” He pulled out the empty chair Mingyu had just vacated and sat down seamlessly next to you.

Mingyu, halfway to the door, spun around at the sound of Jeonghan's name, his face lighting up with genuine excitement. “JEONGHAN HYUNG!” He rushed back. “What are you doing in this corner of the library? I thought you lived on the other side of the town!”

Jeonghan smiled fondly at his younger colleague. “Hey, gyu. Still shouting in quiet zones, I see.”

“You know each other?” Mingyu asked, looking between the two of you, bewildered.

“Yes,” you confirmed, amused by the sudden, intense shift in focus.

“How? Why didn't you say anything?” Mingyu persisted, a small pout on his face.

“None of your business, little one.” Jeonghan answered smoothly, but without malice—it was the familiar, exasperated bickering tone they shared. He pulled the chair closer to your side.

“Hey! I'm literally the same age as Y/n!” Mingyu argued, but sat down across the table with a defeated sigh.

Mingyu immediately started trying to engage Jeonghan in a rapid-fire discussion about his recent work, but Jeonghan simply leaned toward you, his attention laser-focused on the problem you had introduced.

“So, about this betrayal plot hole,” Jeonghan began, immediately looking at your notes. “You’re missing the logical motivation. I had a thought while I was looking for a book.”

You laughed softly, easily pulled back into the problem. “See? I knew you'd have an opinion.”

Mingyu watched the two of you fall into a deep, intense discussion about character motivations and structural integrity. Within five minutes, he was slouched over the table, his enthusiastic excitement replaced by genuine boredom. Soon, Mingyu's head rested on his crossed arms, and he was completely asleep, his soft breathing a quiet counterpoint to your suddenly intense conversation.

Jeonghan glanced at his sleeping friend, a small, endearing smile briefly touching his lips before he turned back to you, his eyes shining with focus and a comfortable, undeniable connection.

“Why doesn't she trust him?” he murmured, lowering his voice now. “Let's figure this out.”

You nodded, finally feeling relieved with someone by your side who was as thoughtful as Mingyu.

——

OCTOBER 25

The small, independent bookstore café you favored was closed, but the owner—a friend who admired your work—had let you use one of the cozy, partitioned booths in the back. The air was quiet and still, smelling faintly of roasted beans and damp paperbacks. A single low lamp on your table casted a focused, golden pool of light over a scatter of notebooks and research papers.

Jeonghan had arrived shortly after you, wearing a comfortable hoodie, and the sight of him dedicating his intense focus entirely to your chaotic creative process made your chest tighten with an unfamiliar emotion.

“Okay,” you said, gesturing to the papers. “I'm stuck. It's the moment the protagonist needs to choose her motivation, but the logic is flimsy.”

Jeonghan leaned forward, his whole being narrowing onto your words. You watched the way the lamplight highlighted the clean, strong line of his jaw and the singular, focused intensity in his eyes. This was the quality you found so intoxicating: his ability to shut out the world and apply his sharp, systematic logic to your creative, chaotic universe.

“The logic is never flimsy, Y/n. It's just buried under the emotional wreckage,” he murmured. He pointed to a specific note you’d written. “You said she values safety above everything, right? So, ask yourself, if safety is the highest value, what is the least logical thing she could do that still serves that fear?”

As he spoke, he traced a line across your notes. His index finger, surprisingly elegant and steady, drifted onto the edge of your hand. He didn't pull away immediately. The brief, electric contact—skin to skin—felt like a small, unexpected surge of static in the quiet room. Your breath hitched slightly. He continued speaking, completely unaware of the physical contact, yet the quiet intimacy of the shared concentration felt like a secret confession only you received.

You realized with startling clarity that this feeling was no longer just the comfort of a childhood friend. It was the specific, overwhelming pull of attraction. He was focused on solving your problem, and that total, selfless attention was the most intimate thing he could offer.

You quickly pulled your focus back to the problem. “The least logical thing that serves the fear…” you repeated, your voice trailing off as the ideas began to flow. “Wait. What if her motivation isn’t fear of loss, but fear of hope?”

“Hope is a risk,” Jeonghan agreed instantly, his eyes shining with understanding. “If she chooses hope, she has to trust. And if she trusts, she can be betrayed again.”

For the next half hour, the two of you worked in perfect harmony, a seamless braid of logic and creativity. He was brilliant, precise, and completely absorbed in your world, offering the full capacity of his focus. Every time he validated an idea or dissected a premise, your respect and something you couldn't or didn't want to pinpoint—deepened.

When the final plot point snapped into place with satisfying certainty, you both leaned back, simultaneously sighing in relief.

“You are incredible,” you breathed, gathering the papers, meeting his eyes. “I would have been stuck on that for weeks.”

Jeonghan met your gaze, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “We are incredible,” he corrected softly, his eyes reflecting the deep, private pleasure of shared success.

Your heart skipped, acknowledging the ‘we.’ You knew, sitting there under the café light, that your heart was reacting in a different way. And now, only a cardiologist could fix that.

——

OCTOBER 30

Jeonghan texted you the next afternoon: No emergencies. Clean sweep. 7 PM. I want to see if you can keep up with me when the stakes are low.

You met him not at the university, but at a large, brightly lit independent bookstore downtown. It was deliberate, public, and not work-related, which felt like a victory.

Jeonghan was leaning against a shelf near the entrance, looking relaxed in a dark sweater. He spotted you, and the easy smile he wore suggested he was already planning his victory.

“You shouldn't keep me waiting for so long, orchid.” Jeonghan teased, an easy smile on his face that you loved. He pushed himself off the shelf and walked to you, placing the small book he had in his hands on a table.

“I'm only five minutes late, hannie, don't exaggerate.” You replied as you side eyed him, trying to hide your smile.

“Hm,” he hummed in understanding, looking away for a split second before a soft smile bloomed on his lips. “Anyways, this is a date. In the sense that two adults are attempting to spend time together without a medical emergency or a dissertation crisis.”

You smiled, taking a step forward as you looked around. “That sounds fun. But, why here?”

“Because,” he said, coming to stand beside you, his voice lowering to a playful conspiratorial whisper, “We’re going to play a game, and that requires being in the presence of books.”

You turned your head, just enough to be able to meet his eyes. “A game? With books?” He nodded, the edges of his lips tightening as he closed his eyes for a split second.

That smile. The simple act he always does that gives reassurance, understanding and affection—all at once.

“If you want to, ofcourse.”

“I’d love to. Tell me about it.” You agreed immediately, not leaving any room for further questions. Jeonghan paused for a moment, then broke into a grin.

——

And that's how you went round and around the library in less than ten minutes, checking each and every corner or shelf.

Yoon Jeonghan, the simple menace he is, had set a challenge for the both of you—find a book that describes eachother the best. Familiar with almost every corner here, you figured it'd be easy for you, as long as Jeonghan didn't try to do something funny.

You spotted him a few minutes later, hunched over a shelf, his brow furrowed in concentration.

"Find anything interesting, Doctor?" you teased, walking past.

He immediately snatched the book he was looking at and held it behind his back. "Nothing you need to worry about. Just making sure the philosophy section hasn't corrupted me yet."

You didn't push. Instead, you found a ridiculous, brightly colored paperback titled The Existential Dread of Being Very Attractive and held it up. "Does this count?"

He just laughed, his eyes crinkling. "Thirty minutes, orchid, focus!”

——

You met him by a cozy corner of the library exactly on time. The sunset glow through the window complemented his features, making him look angelic. You were holding a small, serious-looking volume titled The Unwavering Line. Jeonghan was holding two books, a complicated, slightly sheepish expression on his face.

“I’ll go first,” you say, placing your find on your lap. “I chose this. The Unwavering Line. Because even when you're laughing, your core is rigid. You're driven by duty, and you will choose the difficult, ethical, logical path every single time.”

Jeonghan let out a soft exhale. “Ouch. That's a direct hit.”

He placed his first book down. It was the thin black volume he'd tried to hide, titled: A Quick Guide to Fixing Broken Things.

“I chose this for you,” he said, his smile faltering slightly. “Because your entire life right now is fixing the broken narrative threads of your protagonists. You are constantly in repair mode.”

You pouted slightly. “Jeonghan, you're doing that clinical thing again. Are you still seeing my writing career as a problem that needs a solution?”

His eyes immediately went wide before he pushed the book aside. “I— no, orchid, I didn't mean it like that. I'm really sorry,” he sighed.

“Hey, I was just joking. You don't have to explain yourself.” You smiled, taking the black book from his hands. 

He then placed his second book on his lap. It was a slim, unassuming poetry collection, its title warm and inviting: Quiet Lessons under the glow of the moon.

“This is what I chose first,” he admitted, looking vulnerable. He didn't look at the book; his eyes were on you. “I chose this because, honestly, you make the serious moments feel easy. You remind me that there's a space—that this space is simple and hopeful. You embody the beautiful, messy, domestic comfort I forgot existed. I chose it because I think this describes… you.”

The sincerity in his gaze was a direct hit.

“...that's beautiful,” you whispered, reaching out to gently touch his sleeve, your eyes on the book. “You definitely win, hannie.”

“We both won,” he corrected, picking up both your book and his poetry book. “So let me treat you tonight. You can do it someday later.”

He gently took your hand—this time, it was a soft, gentle grip that felt like a clear statement of affection—and led you out of the bookstore and toward the warm glow of a nearby café.

——

NOVEMBER 8

A few days later, you found yourselves in the bright, busy supermarket. Jeonghan pushed the cart, leaning casually on the handle, clearly enjoying the absurdity of the errand.

"Wait, you're telling me your ‘monthly’ restock lasted less than a week?" Jeonghan chuckled, shaking his head, finding your frustrated expression adorable.

"Don't look at me," you huffed, crossing your arms. "It was seok, hao, and gyu. They basically showed up, opened all the cabinets, and became human vacuum cleaners."

"Ah, the price of collaboration," Jeonghan teased, pulling your list out and snapping it open. "Right. 'Essential comforts' only. No more raiding."

He paused in the produce aisle. "Okay, we need lettuce, sure. But we need fun food. Snacks are essential for emergency meetings."

"That sounds suspiciously like a bribe for your future plotting help," you countered, reaching for a bag of chips.

He took the chips with a laugh, gently tossing them back. “Nuh-uh. Gourmet pretzels. Less guilt, better crunch.” The casual bickering felt effortless and wonderfully normal.

You were arguing over which frozen pizza was “least disappointing” when Jeonghan's phone ringed. He pulled it out, glancing at the caller ID: Dr. Choi.

Jeonghan frowned slightly, then leaned back against the cart, shifting his focus. You watched him answer the call, his voice dropping slightly.

“Hey, Dr. Choi,” he answered. “Lunch at the new place?”

He listened for a brief moment—you could hear the muffled, excited chatter of his friends on the line.

He glanced over at you, smiling lightly at your intense study of the pizza box.

"Yeah, sorry," he said into the phone, his voice easy but firm. "Can't make it today. I've actually got a prior engagement I can't ditch... Yeah, it's a pretty important consulting gig. Tell them I said hi, and I'll catch them next week."

He hung up, slipping the phone back into his pocket.

He pushed the cart toward you and looked directly into your eyes. "A lunch invite from the guys," he explained simply.

You felt a little flutter of warmth—he was choosing this.

"A very important consulting gig, huh?" you teased, nudging the cart. "Does this gig pay in pepperonis?"

Jeonghan's eyes crinkled with genuine, affectionate humor. "It pays in domestic bliss. And yes, it requires my undivided focus." He gently guided the cart forward, resting his hand softly on your lower back for a fleeting, intentional moment.

"They'll survive lunch without me," he murmured, his voice low and sincere. "I'm off the clock. And my new routine involves making sure you're properly stocked for whatever chaos your friends decide to unleash next."

The simplicity and certainty of his choice made the sterile supermarket feel warmer than any café. He was prioritizing the small, comfortable moment with you.

——

NOVEMBER 20

The hospital lobby was aggressively bright and cold, even at 3:00 AM. The hallways were empty, the air heavy with the pervasive, slightly bitter scent of antiseptic and stale coffee—the smell of duty. You had been waiting nearly an hour in a stiff plastic chair near the residents’ entrance. Your phone, sitting in your lap, still held the last message from Jeonghan: Clear in 10-15. Don't wait. It arrived four hours ago.

You adjusted the bag beside you, which contained a thermos of steaming black coffee, a massive high-protein sandwich, and a clean, soft crewneck sweater. You weren't here to demand his time; you were here to perform a necessary, quiet function.

A door swished open down the corridor, and a figure leaned heavily against the jamb. It was Jeonghan, but reduced to his most fundamental, exhausted state.

He wasn't wearing his usual crisp shirt or even clean scrubs. His hair was damp and matted to his forehead, his scrubs were wrinkled and likely stained with old coffee or something worse, and his face was pale, lined with a deep, crushing weariness. He was holding himself up only by leaning his shoulder against the doorframe, his eyes half-closed.

He saw you, but the sheer effort of pulling his lips into a smile seemed too much.

“You didn't leave,” he murmured, his voice rough and low, sounding like gravel.

You were instantly on your feet, moving toward him. “You said 'ten to fifteen,' Jeonghan. That was before the last two hours of silence.”

You reached him and didn't try to touch his face or hug him—you knew better than to interfere with the exhausted shell of a surgeon. Instead, you gently took his elbow, steadying him, and guided him toward a nearby bench, carefully maneuvering his heavy body.

“Sit,” you commanded softly.

He obeyed instantly, collapsing onto the hard plastic. He dropped his head into his hands, his messy hair falling over his fingers. You heard him breathe a deep, shaky sigh that held the exhaustion of a hundred hours.

“It was… exhausting,” he managed to say, the words alone costing him visible effort. He didn't offer a diagnosis or a story. He didn't need to.

You opened the bag, pulling out the coffee first. You didn't ask if he wanted it. You simply placed the hot cup directly into his trembling hands.

“Eat this,” you said, unwrapping the sandwich. “You probably haven't had a calorie in twelve hours.”

Jeonghan looked at the sandwich. Then, his eyes—dark and utterly devoid of his usual playful light—flickered up to yours. He had absolutely zero energy left to maintain his clinical facade, his flirtatious teasing, or his patience. He was completely, devastatingly exposed.

“I'm tired,” he admitted, his voice barely a whisper. “The energy... it’s all gone.”

​You didn't need to say anything. You gently wrapped the soft, clean scarf around his neck, providing a small barrier against the cold air and a comforting texture. Then, you eased his coat open and tucked a soft blanket you had also brought around his shoulders, wrapping him in a makeshift cocoon of warmth.

​He leaned his head against your shoulder as soon as you were seated beside him. The weight of his head was immense, and you realized how long he must have been on his feet. He didn't move to speak; he simply existed there, using your stability as his anchor.

“Y/n,” he said, his voice muffled against your coat, a genuine, raw sound of gratitude. “I don't know why you're still here, but... thank you. I needed you to be here.”

You simply held him, steady and quiet, in the cold, harsh light of the corridor. You understood then, with a crushing finality, that this was the life you would be committing to—a love measured in sterile hallway visits and exhausted, half-spoken confessions.

——

DECEMBER 2

It was a crisp morning, three days after the first significant snow of the season—the kind of soft, deep quiet that muffles the city. Around ten-thirty, you were exactly where you wanted to be: curled up in the warm cocoon of your bed, lost in a book, with a mug of hot coffee warming your hands.

Your phone buzzed softly on the bedside table.

You glanced over, and a small smile touched your lips at the sight of Jeonghan’s name.

Hannie: the snow near your house is much cleaner, I don't know why.

You paused, sipping your coffee, curious about the odd comment. A few seconds later, the phone buzzed again.

Hannie: did you wash the snow? With detergent?

You chuckled, shaking your head at his obvious teasing. You knew this was leading somewhere.

Hannie: Okay, what do I have to say for you to know that I'm outside your house right now.

That made you laugh aloud, setting your coffee down quickly. You recognized his cute excuses and his impatience. You quickly opened the curtains and slid the glass door open to your balcony.

The cold air hit you immediately, raising goosebumps on your arms, but your gaze was locked instantly on the ground below. There stood Jeonghan, dressed in a thick, handsome coat and a knitted beanie, looking up and waiting impatiently for you to see him.

His expression lit up the second he saw you standing on the balcony.

“What are you doing here!” you shouted down, chuckling at the pure delight radiating from him.

With a wide grin, he shouted back, tilting his head with a teasing challenge. “Why can't I be here?”

You laughed, the cold air stinging your cheeks. “I'm not coming!” you shouted, just as a joke. He didn't budge. He knew you wouldn't let him wait long.

“Then I'll freeze here to death!” he shouted back, dramatically pulling his coat tighter around his neck.

You couldn't help but smile widely. “Okay, okay, Elsa! I'll be right there!” you shouted one last time before retreating quickly back inside to pull on a thick sweater and a muffler.

Meanwhile, Jeonghan’s grin was reaching his eyes, the victory of your simple compliance filling him with pure joy. He let out a deep breath of relief, watching the curtain fall back into place.

Then, he turned slightly to look toward the left side of your house, and his entire body immediately froze.

There stood Joshua. Leaning casually against a snow-dusted tree, dressed in a stylish but casual coat. His arms were crossed, his eyes narrowed, and the subtle, dangerous sign of his displeasure was the slight, deliberate poke of his tongue against his cheek.

Jeonghan's triumphant grin instantly dissolved into a sheepish, caught-in-the-act expression. He swallowed hard.

——

The rooftop patio of your house was surprisingly cozy. Joshua, always one for comfort, had strung warm fairy lights everywhere and set up a temporary clear roof and heavy plastic siding to protect the area from the elements. Inside, the space was filled with blankets, thick mats, and an enormous, soft beanbag chair.

You, Jeonghan, and Joshua were bundled up, sprawled around a low table littered with empty snack bags and nearly finished mugs of hot cider. The hours had flown by, filled with the easy humor of lifelong friends.

Joshua sighed dramatically, stretching his arms high above his head. “So basically, you two are making me feel left out, and I'm not liking it.”

Jeonghan smirked, nudging your foot with his. “Joshuji, you're my favourite loser, how could I do that to you—”

“Don't say that to my amazing brother,” you defended, smacking his shoulder light, earning a shared chuckle from both of them. Jeonghan raised his hand to rub the area you had hit, a pout of betrayal on his face.

"Exactly," Joshua agreed, pointing at Jeonghan. "Take that, my second favourite loser. It's a miracle we still hang out."

“Wait, who's the first favourite loser then?” Jeonghan asked, suddenly shifting the tone of air. Joshua bit his tongue, his eyes turning to look at you. But before he could confirm, you were already tackling him to the floor while Jeonghan protested only with his words.

The lighthearted conversation continued for nearly four hours—a perfect blend of shared memories, gentle ribbing, and comfortable silence. It was a demonstration of the easy, interwoven history the three of you shared.

The easy familiarity eventually gave way to heavy exhaustion. Joshua, unable to fight the warmth and the late hour, gave up first. He laid out completely on the huge, soft beanbag chair placed right at the center of the rooftop, spreading his long legs out with a groan of relief. Within minutes, his soft, steady breathing confirmed he was completely asleep, acting as the perfect, unconscious chaperone.

You were only a few minutes away from dropping dead yourself. You tried to shift on the mat, unable to find a comfortable position to truly surrender to sleep.

You looked over at Jeonghan, your eyes barely open and heavy with sleep. He was watching the steam rise from his forgotten mug of cider, looking perfectly content.

Unable to find comfort alone, you acted purely on instinct. You reached out, grabbed his arm, and snuggled close to him. You rested your head right on his shoulder, keeping your arm securely wrapped around his bicep, pulling his warmth closer.

Jeonghan froze instantly.

You felt the immediate, abnormal thump of his heart against your cheek. He didn't move a muscle, suddenly acutely aware of the deep, trusting weight of your head against him. He was thinking of all sorts of things right now: the warmth of your hair, the soft pressure of your arm, the fact that Joshua was right there.

He slowly gazed down at your face, which was relaxed and peaceful as you drifted off to sleep. For the first time since his feelings started to grow—since he diagnosed himself with “a disease called you”—he allowed himself to lean into the feeling, not run away from it. He made no movement to pull away, to categorize the contact as platonic, or to regain control.

With immense tenderness, he reached up and gently placed his other hand over the hand you had wrapped around his arm. He brought his head down to rest gently on top of yours, softly closing his eyes.

Under the silent, watchful protection of the sleeping Joshua and the soft glow of the fairy lights, Jeonghan finally surrendered. He didn't need to fix anything right now, he only needed to hold you.

——

You woke up slowly, feeling the distinct softness of a pillow under your head. You blinked, staring up at the temporary clear roof, where the fairy lights cast a diffused glow. You were wrapped in two thick blankets and perfectly situated on a plush mat.

A puzzled frown crossed your face. You didn't remember starting your nap on the mat. The last thing you remembered was practically glued to Jeonghan’s shoulder. You shrugged off the minor mystery, assuming you’d shifted in your sleep, and simply burrowed deeper into the blankets.

You looked over and saw Jeonghan already awake, sitting just a few feet away from you as he collected the mugs. His eyes crinkled with soft humor as he watched Joshua stretch.

A loud groan broke the spell. Joshua stretched out on the beanbag, announcing his return to consciousness. “My neck is going to kill me. What time is it?”

After a flurry of stretching and gathering blankets, Joshua checked his phone. “Shoot. Mom needs help with something downstairs. Duty calls, unfortunately.” He gave Jeonghan a ‘I’m sorry’ look before heading toward the exit, leaving the door slightly ajar.

——

You grabbed your coat and muffler and walked Jeonghan to his car, which was parked just outside the perimeter of the melting snow. You both stopped next to the vehicle, the air instantly cold again after the rooftop warmth. Jeonghan turned to look at you, his eyes soft and content.

“I'm cold,” he mumbled, a soft, playful pout curving his lips.

You immediately reached out to tug at the muffler around his neck, instinctively fixing the thick material. “Why? Do you need another coat? I can get one right now—”

Before you could finish, Jeonghan quickly pulled you into a hug—a warm, gentle one, wrapping his arms securely around your shoulders. You were taken aback for a second, but a smile spread across your face as you wrapped your arms tightly around his waist.

“Just say you want a hug, doc,” you chuckled, your voice muffled against his coat.

“Where's the fun in that when I can steal them,” he replied, his voice muffled as he buried his face into your shoulder that was heavy with sweater and muffler.

You two stayed embraced for a quiet while, the simple comfort of his weight sinking into the moment. You tightened your grip on his coat, finding the courage to finally speak the raw thought that had been building all afternoon.

“Please don't leave this time,” you whispered softly, your breath warm against his coat collar.

Jeonghan paused, the easy affection in his grip immediately giving way to absolute stillness as he processed your words. “Hm?” he hummed in question a few seconds later, gently pulling back a fraction to look at your face.

You took a shaky breath, tightening your grip on his coat again, afraid he might disappear if you let go. “Let's stay together this time. We're adults, Hannie. Not five or seven.” You meant the full weight of your words.

Jeonghan took a couple more seconds, absorbing the weight of the request. Then, he pulled away fully, his almond eyes soft and gentle, full of acceptance and promise.

“I won't leave,” he said firmly. “At least, not right now. So let's spend this winter together, just like we did back then.”

He lightly pecked your forehead, sealing the quiet promise in the cold winter air.

——

The winter agreement Jeonghan made in your driveway—the promise to just stay and “spend this winter together”—became the simple truth for the next three months. From late November on, the line between your personal lives got fuzzier, not because of big dates, but because you just slowly started sharing routines.

Jeonghan's intense work didn't slow down, but your apartment became the safe, quiet spot he always came back to. He started leaving little things at your place—his favorite coffee mug, an old hoodie—small, quiet signs that he belonged there now.

You both fell right back into the easy rhythm you had as kids, but now there was a constant, low buzz of adult attraction simmering underneath the surface. You shared late-night meals (always with those gourmet pretzels he insisted on), worked side-by-side in comfortable silence, and texted until the moment one of you finally crashed.

New Year's Eve was a perfect example. After a big party, you two had a quiet takeout. Jeonghan showed up after every guest left, too tired for anything but sitting on the sofa with his head on your shoulder, just grateful you were there. In those small, stolen moments, the real feelings grew—deep, tender, and way past just being friends.

You loved having that precious part of your childhood back, but now it felt stronger, more necessary. Every time he laughed at your chaos, every time he just watched you quietly, or every time he leaned into your hug, the truth became clear—He wasn't just Hannie anymore.

By late February, the pressure was huge. You weren't dating, but your lives were completely tangled up. The comfortable “winter agreement” had run its course. But what now? You had to move back to Seoul, and you're certain that Jeonghan had to aswell, but he probably couldn't tell you about it yet.

Maybe falling in love with your childhood friend wasn't the best choice. Maybe, just maybe, if it stayed the same—you as his little sister that he'd become a second brother to—everything would've been fine. But you two were in too deep to look back now.

——

FEBRUARY 18

The evening air was dry but cold, carrying the final chill of late February. The family function had long since ended, and the sudden quiet of the street felt vast after the hours of socializing. You emerged through the heavy wooden doors, already drained by the forced pleasantries and endless small talk.

You stopped dead on the top step.

Leaning against a sleek black sedan parked across the street, illuminated by the distant yellow glow of a streetlamp, was Jeonghan, scrolling away on his phone. He had clearly been waiting. He was wrapped in a long, dark coat, his hands tucked into his pockets, his posture easy and patient. The exhaustion from the day dissolved instantly, replaced by a surge of pure, delighted relief.

Your eyes widened in surprise, and a wide grin reached your eyes as you broke into a spontaneous run across the pavement. 

You didn't hesitate—you flung yourself into his arms, wrapping your arms tightly around his neck. He chuckled, the sound muffled against your shoulder, and instantly wrapped his strong arms around your waist, pulling you securely against the length of his body.

The natural, familiar force of the hug made both your hearts race—a simple, reflexive response to the sight and touch of him after a long absence. You breathed in the comforting scent of his cologne and the fresh winter air.

Finally, you pulled back slightly, planting a quick, loud kiss on his cheek before letting go of his neck.

Jeonghan's composure broke for the briefest moment. His eyes fluttered shut on the impact, and the smile on his face became something soft and uncontrolled before he quickly masked it, clearing his throat.

“You survived,” he noted, his voice smooth again. He reached out and gently smoothed your coat.

“Barely. I think I used up my entire social battery for the next three months.” You reached into your pocket and pulled out a crinkled, pocket-sized packet of chocolate buns, already tearing it open. You held a bun out to him. “Here. Restorative treatment.”

Jeonghan looked at it, then stuck his lower lip out in a small, ridiculous pout. “Oh, but I can't get my hands dirty right now,” he feigned sadness, lifting his empty hands slightly to emphasize the tragedy.

You sighed dramatically, though a chuckle escaped you instantly. You plucked a piece from the bun and held it up to his lips. “You are absurd,” you muttered, blushing fiercely at the absurdity of feeding the renowned Dr. Yoon Jeonghan on a public street although it was quite empty at this hour.

The moment he bit down, his soft lips briefly grazed your skin. He pulled back just enough to let his tongue trace the sweet smudge of chocolate on the corner of his lips, his eyes never leaving yours.

You spent the next few minutes finishing the snack as you walked toward his car, ranting about everything that had happened—the awful canapés, the confusing distant relatives, the boring speeches. Jeonghan listened patiently, his hand almost holding yours as you walked. His eyes held affection, amusement and something you couldn't quite pinpoint. But he was fighting the urge to lean down and simply kiss you right there.

He approached the passenger door and reached for the handle. Then, just as the moment was about to normalize, a powerful, unexpected twist hit him—an undeniable urge to seize the moment.

Jeonghan paused. He gently and suddenly grabbed your wrist, halting your movement.

You looked up, surprised by the abrupt shift. His easy playfulness was gone, replaced by a sweet, fragile sincerity. His eyes were wide, tender, and searching, and you could practically hear the abnormal, frantic thumping of his own heart in the sudden silence. You instantly felt nervous, your heart beginning to race in response.

He looked down at your hand, then back up to your eyes, his voice soft, barely audible above the quiet street sounds. “Can you let me do an experiment on your heart?”

“Hannie, what?” you joked, the nervousness palpable in your voice. “You're not going to rip my heart open, are you?” You knew, deep down, he meant something different. Something you probably weren't expecting tonight.

He shook his head slowly, his expression still locked in that tender, intense way. He took two steps closer, closing the distance until you were only inches apart. “No, but I... Just tell me. Will you allow me to do that? Allow me to test your heart?”

You were speechless, just staring at him, waiting for him to do anything to stop your heart from beating so ridiculously fast.

His hands came to rest softly on your back, a deliberate action, as if he was testing to see if you would move away—giving you full, final authority to reject him. He then leaned closer, his eyes never leaving your lips. He tilted his head slightly as he did, moving with agonizing slowness, giving you all the time in the world to pull back.

But you didn't.

He knew he couldn't back away now. This was what you both wanted.

He pulled you gently against him and kissed your lips—a quick, soft press, as if testing the waters, hesitant and almost scared to fully touch your soft lips with his. He pulled back, his breath coming short, and locked eyes with you.

You stared at him speechless for a few lingering seconds before you let out a little squeak, covering your face with your hands at the speed of light, the chocolate bun wrapper finally falling from your nerveless fingers.

Jeonghan laughed heartily, a deep, chest-shaking sound that made your heart hammer faster.

“This is so embarrassing, I didn't even apply lip balm properly today!” you mumbled into your hands, whining and wanting to disappear.

He stooped, picked up the wrapper, and tossed it in the nearby garbage can before reaching over to cup your cheek with one hand. “Your lips are soft enough, love,” he said, his voice laced with amusement and deep affection.

You instantly dropped your hands, your face flushed scarlet. “...What did you call me?”

He paused for a moment before looking around with a playful smile. “I don't know, what was it?” He looked back at you, his gaze teasing and you wanted to smack him across the face right there and then. “I'd remember if I had someone’s lips on mine right now.”

Despite being as red as a tomato, you hesitantly reached out. Jeonghan gazed at you with the same fondness, patiently waiting without any interruption. Then you did it. You kissed him—a long, lingering, and loving peck this time.

​His heart melted completely. He desperately wanted to sink to his knees, but he forced himself to maintain his composure—for the sake of both your sanity.

He chuckled softly when you pulled away. “You're a good kisser, love,” he said before leaning over and tilting his head. “Did you perhaps train with someone in those twenty-three years I was absent?”

You burst out into a shy laugh, shaking your head. “No, Hannie, you're my first kiss.”

Jeonghan's eyes instantly filled with such profound pleasure and love. He locked his arms securely around your waist, pulling you close, his forehead resting against yours.

OCTOBER 2

Perfect wouldn't be the exact word to describe today. In fact, it's an understatement. Maybe it's your habit of romanticizing life, but the autumn leaves seem to fall in a much slower, sweeter way these days. The wind that flows through your window feels a gentle reminder of the approaching winter. And every day, it feels a bit chiller, pushing everyone to put on more fabric to face the cold.

It has already been a week since you came to your hometown to spend the winter season with your family. But, to be very honest, it feels the exact same as living alone in Seoul because your parents are barely home; going on dates every now and then, abandoning you and your brother, Joshua. And it gets worse, because Joshua physically cannot stay at home for longer than one hour and always has to go out with his friends.

That leaves you, your emotional support—a crocheted heart shaped pillow and the emptiness of your nostalgic childhood home alone for almost the entire day. You didn't mind, though, because being a grown adult meant you had to get used to doing everything alone.

Like usual, you woke up early in the morning, not surprised to find no-one else in the house. After a few hours of laying around, you decided to do something productive—clean your room. So, you plugged your headphones and jammed to your favourite summer songs in the sole presence of winter. Not that you dislike winter, in fact it's your favourite, it's just your unpromising choice of music at the most random times.

Your taste in music is unmatched, though. You have full confidence in that.

You wiped the windows one last time, and leaned back to look at the entire room. A proud smile bloomed on your lips, satisfied with your much-needed hard work. And after all that, you deserved a treat. A sweet one.

You put all the cleaning essentials aside and jerk the dust off your hands before sliding your headphones down to rest around your neck.

As you open your bedroom door, you're met with an unfamiliar noise coming from downstairs. You head towards the staircase, taking conscious steps on it, trying to decipher the voices.

It should be Joshua, but you hear a much deeper and sweeter voice alongside. The tone sounds oddly familiar but you don't remember ever hearing the voice in your twenty-six years of living. It's obvious enough that your brother probably invited his friend over without informing you beforehand, but you still decide to risk it anyway.

In a very, very careful manner, you tip-toed your way down the stairs and leaned against the wall, peeking your head just enough to get a glimpse of the kitchen. It wasn't too far from where you were standing right now, and it shouldn't be a big problem to make a run for it without being seen in your old clothes that you wore because you didn't want to get the good ones dirty while cleaning.

But you're quick to hide behind the wall with a small gasp and change your mind within seconds. And the reason? An insanely gorgeous guy around the age of Joshua in your common room, unpacking a guitar. Your heart jumped a little, and you found yourself peeking again, just enough to get a better look at him.

His eyes traced the shape of an almond, coloured in the hues of the same. His black, flowy hair rested just above his upper neck, shining under the warm afternoon sunlight. His pink lips were pressed into a thin line, the corners curved like the softest smile you'd ever seen. He gently held the guitar with one hand, twisting it out of the carton box. Your heart refused to believe he wasn't an illusion of the love-sick mind. He was right there, in front of your eyes, all flesh and bones.

Just another second more, and maybe you could've gathered the courage to say something. Anything. But here your brother was, calling out for his friend with a name that sounded too familiar. Before his eyes could catch your sight, though, you were already racing back upstairs as quietly as possible.

“Jeonghan!” Joshua shouted from the front yard, sounding completely exhausted. A few more shuffling noises continued in the common room before a voice cut through.

“What's wrong?”

It was warm, light and clear. A confusing mixture of soft and deep. But angelic enough for a chill to run down your spine, and for your heart to soften. Then, the name that Joshua called, clicked in your mind.

“Jeonghan…” the name slipped from your mouth, curious and also aware at the same time. Pretty name, you thought. But you've definitely heard it somewhere before.

——

Your room felt too empty, too quiet. The silence was heavy with your own embarrassing internal monologue: You, an adult, had practically hyperventilated in a stairwell because of a man who looked like an angel and whose name you knew but couldn't place.

It had been atleast two hours, and Jeonghan was long gone—a beautiful phantom who had entered your home, dropped off your brother's things, and left without ever knowing he'd been watched, much less fled from. But the name, Jeonghan, was still stuck in your mind. It was an itch you had to scratch. You were an author; you solved puzzles for a living.

You were leaning against your pillow, trying to start a new show, or most probably, attempting to divert your mind from the guy named Jeonghan. Just then the muted clatter of the front door indicated that your parents were finally home from their date.

The soft tapping came almost immediately after. Your mother’s footsteps had paused just outside your door.

Knock, knock. Just two quick taps.

“Y/n, are you awake, honey?” her voice was low and warm. “I just wanted to tell you about the terrible lighting in the bistro before I forget.”

You smiled as soon as your eyes met hers, inviting her into the comfort of your room. But before she could launch into the decor review, a kind, clear voice called up the stairs.

“Y/n! I served your favourite cheesecake on a plate, it’s sitting right here in the fridge. Come get it before I accidentally mistake it for my own!” Joshua warned playfully, followed by a soft laughter from your dad. 

Your mother smiled, leaning against the door frame. “See? A devil disguised as a gentleman who might steal your snack. Come on, sweetie. You deserve a bite of something good after a long day.”

You pushed her blankets back with a laugh. “This guy…”

“Wait! Can you bring my phone from my room, please? It'll be quick!” Joshua shouted urgently, afraid you might ignore his words if he's a second late. Already halfway down the stairs, you sighed loud and dramatically before taking a full u-turn and dragging your foot along the steps.

“I need half of your cheesecake in return!” You exclaimed, earning a scoff from him. But he couldn't disagree, atleast, not while you're doing his work.

You marched into Joshua's room, intending to raid his bed looking for his phone, but spotted a dusty, faded photo album resting on his bedside table.

“2002.” — the cover read. Your eyebrows furrowed, your posture softening curiously. You grabbed it without hesitation, just wanting to have a look at it.

Holding the album tight against your chest with one hand, you searched through Joshua's bedsheets for his phone with another. You took his phone, ran to your room and hid the photo album under your pillow, your heart racing with uncertain hope.

You had an overwhelming feeling that Jeonghan might be someone you've known in your past.

Taking one last look at your perfect hiding spot, you shut the door behind you and crept down the stairs, as if you suddenly became too self aware. Then, clearing your throat, you plopped down on the couch beside Joshua and snatched his bag of chips.

“You know you could just ask for one and I won't bite, right?” Joshua remarked, clearly not bothered, yet feeling the need to make facts clear to you.

“Where's the fun in that?” You smiled, munching on your brother's favourite flavour of potato chips. You two continued to chat, and he continued to crack his very unfunny jokes, oblivious to the fact that his bedside table will be missing something tonight.

——

It didn't take long before evening passed by. For the first time, though, someone didn't have to tell you to go to sleep. Because the moment you were done with dinner, you were already taking two steps at a time towards your room. Your night routine lasted for a few minutes—a quick warm shower, your skin settling for only moisturizer for tonight. Because you had something much more exciting waiting for you other than your usual relaxing skincare.

Finally, you lifted your pillow and grabbed the photo album with enthusiasm, settling onto your bed with a soft blanket proving warmth till your waist. ‘2002’, it read, making you a bit confused until you flipped the cover. The first page contained photographs, dating way back to 2000.

12th April, 2002. It specified, followed by a bunch of photos of you and Joshua, racing through the nostalgic fields of your once favourite lilies. White t-shirt with a blue jean jumpsuit and a white breton cap, posing with a cute peace sign—Joshua, you recognised. Peeking over his shoulders from behind was you, dressed in a yellow printed bright frock, making you glow in the garden of flowers.

Your lips bloomed with a smile, and widened with each page you flipped, each photograph an embarrassing and lovely reminder of the beautiful childhood you’ve spent with your family.

You found yourself hooked to it, flipping past years of awkward childhood photos until you hit the deep past—the messy, grainy world of kindergarten.

And there it was. A picture of three small children covered in mud, squinting into the sun. A goofy Joshua was grinning, flanked by a messy-haired girl with two cute buns (you), and on the other side, a skinny, handsome boy with an angelic smile.

The realization was a punch to the gut. The handsome man whom you had stumbled into this afternoon wasn't just a stranger; he was a friend. He was the friend. Your first childhood confidante, the boy who shared his best toys, the one who had taught you how to tie your shoelaces, though wrong himself. And the one you had always found a bit more charming and special than the rest since the day you two met.

The friend from twenty-three years ago had spontaneously combusted into a full-blown adult attraction, all while turning into a distant memory in your mind.

The memory snapped the name into place: Jeonghan. He was the reason you and Joshua used to sneak out to the playground at sunset. The reason you learned addition and subtraction better than your classmates. He was a piece of your past, and you had never tried to look back for these whole 23 years.

You slammed the album shut, realisation hitting you like a jolt of electricity. It had been twenty-three years. Twenty-three years since the last time you saw that angelic smile, and today, you saw it all over again. Except it was much brighter and sweeter now.

You flip the photo album to that specific page again, carefully taking the photograph of seven year old Jeonghan, your heart melting at the sight just as it did all those years ago when he gave you his ice-cream after you dropped yours. Putting the album aside, you keep the photograph between the pages of your diary safely before turning the lamp off and tucking yourself in the sheets.

It leaves you on a cliffhanger all night—“If you stood before him, would he remember you in a heartbeat, or has your shared childhood simply faded into a past he would no longer care about?”

—

OCTOBER 4

With a huff, you placed the plastic bag full of snacks on the table, making your colleagues erupt in excitement.

“You're the best!” Seokmin stood up from his seat, clapping his hands like a toddler getting ice cream for dessert. Mingyu snatched the first thing he saw from the bag, a big wide grin stretching across his face as he giggled. Minghao, on the other hand, sighed at the sight unfolding before him. But not long after, he also got up, unable to avoid the temptation.

 “Oh my god! Where did you get this drink from? Everywhere I go it's always sold out…” Mingyu pouted, scanning the cold drink can with a frown.

“There's a shop just a few blocks away, I got all this from there.” You sat down on a chair, grabbing a small fruit cake packet. Seokmin swallowed his food, clearing his throat just to stupidly ask, “Do you just have this many snacks lying around the house or what?”

You paused and shared a look, almost sad. “This was supposed to be my monthly restock if y'all didn't just barge in my house without notice.”

Mingyu choked on his food, looking at you horrified. “That is your monthly restock? You eat all this alone?” He gasped, making Seokming and Minghao wheeze loudly.

“Hey, I have three other people living in this house!” You defended, unable to hold back your smile at his goofiness. Minghao lightly smacked Mingyu's shoulder, grinning from ear to ear.

“Maybe you should slow down on that sugar, or you’ll be meeting up with Dr. Jeonghan tomorrow.” He remarked while Mingyu sulked, and Seokmin threw himself on the floor, cackling.

You froze. Your hands stopped mid-air as your ears perked up, your heart pounding in your ribcage a little louder now. The name echoed in your memory, sending your mind into a spiral. Seokmin wasn't helping either.

“Also, didn't Jeonghan warn you that day too?” He doubled down as the room erupted in laughter while you sat there in complete silence.

Calm down, Y/n. There are thousands of other Jeonghan in this world.

The careless repetition of the name felt like an invasion. You wanted to interrupt, to confirm which Jeonghan they were talking about, but the name itself was a trigger. It silenced the question in your throat, leaving you with a blinding surge of nervousness and a heart that felt ready to beat its way out of your chest. Everywhere you turned, the name followed, not just a whisper but a persistent, inescapable sound—as if it were hunting you down. As if you had to fill in the gap of those twenty three years you've missed.

——

EARLIER THAT DAY.

“I'm not paying 5k for this and that's final.” You slammed your hand on the stall’s counter, frustrated. The middle aged shopkeeper annoyingly mirrored your actions, an insufferable expression painted on his face, clearly meant to provoke you.

“Then don't. Feel free to walk away, young lady.” He gestured towards the roadside, fueling your frustration. You snorted.

“Listen, uncle,” you leaned over the counter, ready to drop an earful. “I’ve been a customer of this store even before you stepped foot here, respectfully. So I don't understand why I'm having to deal with you this early in the morning just because your arrogance is out of control. I bought this exact one just yesterday and it was two times less than whatever price you're telling me to pay right now.” You spilled out everything under one breath, then leaned back huffing to grab the small menu.

“And mind you, this is not even 3k so you may be a bit sick in the head to think I'd pay you 5k.” You glared into the shopkeeper’s soul, and for a split second, you could see his expression falter.

Yes. Victory.

Silence. Then he began to argue again, leaving you jaw-dropped. The audacity of this man needed to be studied or you might just go insane on a random Thursday morning. But then, like a gift from the heavens itself, a deep, soft, and familiar voice cut through the tension. It came from directly behind you, blocking the sun and casting a sudden, sharp shadow. You froze for a beat. Two beats. then practically spun on your heel as the recognition hit.

There he was: the same captivating, brown almond eyes; the silky, dark, impossibly shiny hair. The beautiful, sharp detail of his cheekbones that you hadn't noticed before, and now that you had, the pang in your heart was almost painful. You could run away and hide—not just from the man, but the insane, radiant energy he possessed. It was a beauty so profound, so utterly gorgeous, you almost felt plain and unremarkable infront of him. You were looking directly at an angel's twin, made human.

His lips looked baby pink, soft and magnetic. You almost felt embarrassed at the way your eyes were travelling and scanning each and every detail—even his lips, but could you really blame yourself? He was Jeonghan. The same pretty, mischievous kid who used to chase you around dressed in a ghost costume who had now grown into such a fine man you almost couldn't believe your eyes. Just like he always guessed and remarked, he had grown taller than you thought he would, and it was taking your breath away seeing how he towered you so easily.

But why was he here?

“Ah, Mr. Shin?” Jeonghan spoke into the speaker of his phone, catching the shopkeeper's attention. His steps halted just beside you, although he hadn't met your eyes yet.

“Jeonghan-ah? Is something wrong, you don't call at this hour.” A voice followed through the phone almost immediately, and you instantly recognised the voice. It was Mr. Shin, the actual owner of the store you knew since childhood.

Jeonghan reached out to grab the menu, his eyes examining the price of the pastry you had wasted your past 20 minutes for. “Something is very wrong, actually,” he sighed, placing the menu back on the counter. “I didn't know you changed the prices for the strawberry chocolate mousse…”

You paused, fighting back a smile. You knew exactly where this was going now. He sounded almost sad, his expression worried and distressed, but you could tell it was fake. Even after all these years, you haven't lost the ability to tell he was faking it, although he looked too convincing to others.

The shopkeeper was horrified, and you loved each and every second of it.

“Wait what? I don't— I don't remember doing so. Are you sure you're not mistaken?” Mr. Shin sounded puzzled and worried, recalling everything he did before leaving for a few days of vacation.

He looked directly at the shopkeeper, causing him to startle a bit. “I can't be mistaken because that's what I'm being told by—”

“No, wait a minute! I'm sorry, I'm sorry, just take it!” He slid the pastry box towards you on the counter, panicked and scared for his dear job. “Don't complain, please, I beg you.”

Jeonghan glanced at his phone, then spoke, “Mr. Shin, I'll talk to you later, it's an emergency.” Before ending the call.

You were stunned. He was still so clever and troublesome, just a lot kinder now.

The shopkeeper bowed one last time before hurrying away to the other side of the stall, leaving you and Jeonghan alone. You hadn't looked away from him until now.

Grabbing the pastry box, you gathered every last bit of confidence left in you to turn to him with a tight-lipped smile.

“Thank you, Jeonghan—” the name slipped from your lips before you could process it, and you noticed the way his eyes immediately turned to look at you. You averted your gaze at the realisation, trying your best to not drown in the awkwardness. Your heart was racing at the sheer thought of your childhood bestfriend recognising you after twenty-three years. You were excited, even. Until he spoke. Too casually, too nicely and too normally.

“You know my name?” He asked, tilting his head with a genuine surprised look on his face. Your stomach dropped, the hint of eagerness in your eyes fading slowly.

He didn't recognise you.

You were a stranger to him right now, and at that very moment, you lost every intention to remind him. But you pushed the personal thoughts aside, thinking of an excuse to get out of the awkward situation.

“I heard Mr. Shin call you that on the phone,” you say, forcing a smile that he mirrored.

“Ah, ofcourse, that was nothing special. Just use this trick when needed, although I doubt there'll be a next time.” He joked with a soft chuckle, the sound sending a jolt down your spine. You nodded along, your smile reaching the eyes. He still carried a spark within him, enough to light up a person's mood.

“Enjoy your pastry, I'm in a bit of a hurry right now.” He said, glancing at the watch on his wrist. “See you around.” With one last look and smile, he jogged down the street. It was only when he reached the turn that you realised his words.

You do wish to see him around, hopefully.

——

OCTOBER 7

The morning sunlight shone through the tall windows into the small shop. You stepped inside, closing the door behind you gently. The room had dim lighting, each corner filled with musical instruments and lit up by the sun rays alone. The shop is owned by one of your grandfather’s closest friends, whom you've known for years by now. You stopped by the store to share some of the dumplings you had cooked this morning for your family as your mother reminded you of the fact that it was his favourite.

“Uncle?” You called out, looking around the room curiously. You walked inside further, your eyes glued to the various instruments. He has always been the biggest lover of music, if it wasn't obvious enough. Not receiving a response, you called out once again, a bit louder this time.

​"Y/n, I'm in the storeroom, hold on a minute!" Uncle Kang called out, his voice accompanied by the distinct sound of tools at work. You acknowledged with an 'okay' and set the lunch box on a small table in the corner.

The guitar leaned against the wall by the table, and a ridiculous, irresistible urge flared in you. You wanted to snatch it up and play, never mind that your skill was only mediocre. But just as you had moved to take a seat, the tiny bell above the entrance door chimed. You glanced up from the floor, your eyes instantly locking with familiar ones.

Your hands froze halfway. The guitar slipped your mind instantly. Your heart didn't just beat; it slammed against your ribs, once, a heavy, silencing thump. You blinked, hard, once, twice, three times, a desperate attempt to reset your vision and your reality. But the impossible was standing there: Jeonghan. He was here, he was everywhere. A shiver traced your spine. It was a coincidence, you told yourself, a trick of the city's sprawl, yet his shadow followed yours like a magnet.

“Ah, Jeonghan! You're here!” A voice suddenly echoed in the store, and Jeonghan had almost lifted his gaze, but you turned away. As fast as you could. You froze, a single, desperate thought screaming in your head: please don't let him recognise you—atleast, not as the one who sent him a matching request on a literal dating app two days ago. That too, accidentally. While stalking. Uncle Kang was standing infront of the store room, patting the dust off his shoulders.

“Good morning,” Jeonghan greeted, your heart melting as soon as you heard the sweet tone of his voice. Maybe it was a mix of fluttery nerves and a tiny bit of sweet panic at the thought of facing him. Or perhaps he just looked so wonderfully fine now, years later, that he felt like a brand new person—making your heart tap out a silly, fast rhythm it hadn't before.

“Good morning, good morning, take a seat.” Uncle Kang gestured for him to sit beside you, causing you to shut your eyes in defeat.

Okay, act like an adult.

You tracked the sound of approaching steps until they stopped. Then, with a soft sigh or perhaps just the scrape of wood on the floor, he pulled out the stool and sat down in the space next to yours. From the corner of your eye, you saw him carrying a gig bag—probably a guitar—which he settled against the wall on the floor just as Uncle Kang began to speak again.

“Just a moment, I'll be right back.” He announced. “Y/n-ah, can you pour him a glass of water?” He requested, shifting his gaze on you. You quickly darted your eyes between him and Jeonghan—who was just now registering your presence—before giving a slight, tentative nod. With a smile, uncle Kang turned away into the dusty storeroom again, getting busy with the tools.

Finally, you looked over at Jeonghan, his expression softening as soon as your eyes met. You offered a soft, polite smile that he mirrored.

​"It's you," he murmured, a sound of calm surprise. You gave a short nod in reply. "We meet again," you answered, surprised by the low, steady quality of your own voice, which seemed to rise from a place of unexpected composure. You saw his expression soften, then a small, knowing smile bloomed on his lips.

His smile was to fucking die for.

“Do you live nearby? It's almost impossible we've run into each other twice in a week.” He asked with a soft chuckle. His eyes followed you as you stood up from your seat and walked to a small cabinet to pour a glass of water for him.

“My parents live in this town, so I drop by on holidays to visit them sometimes.” You replied, placing the jug on the cabinet. “I moved out years ago.” You added, then walked over and handed him the glass of water. He hummed in acknowledgement, taking a quick sip of the water.

“What about you?” You questioned. He glanced at you, then back at the glass of water. “I grew up here as a child, but my family moved out too soon. I think about when I was like… seven?” He smiled, his expression softening slightly as he recalled. “I never visited after that. I think this might be my first time in years.”

You slowly nodded, biting down on your bottom lip. The words were right there, hot and eager on your tongue: I grew up here, too. I grew up with you. But the timing was wrong, the risk too great. Could he handle that much information all at once? Would he even care? Maybe your hopes were a ridiculous height, and all you'd achieve was an immediate, uncomfortable silence. Right now, you were sitting with him—as a stranger—and that was enough. You wouldn't poison the atmosphere just to ease your own mind.

“It must feel weird to see everything in here change so much.” Your voice dropped to a softer tone. ​He grew utterly still, his shoulder softening without a trace of tension. The look in his eyes held a moment of vulnerability, a silent pause before speaking. It was then he carefully formed his response, the words slipping one by one, like gentle steps.

“It really does. I keep trying to find the corner where the old bookstore was, but I can't even trace it. It feels like everything got scrubbed clean.” Then a quick chuckle left his mouth before he added. “I mean, I can't expect everything to be the same after more than a decade.”

You nodded slowly, your mouth a tight, thin line. A wave of pity, almost regret, washed over you for him. You didn't know why he'd been absent all these years, but you suspected the crushing weight of his studies was a major part of it—the curse of the "gifted student", who was supposedly immune to the very real pain of pressure. You understood that void perfectly: the hollow ache of a life half-missed. You knew, with a painful certainty, that you couldn't rewind time, couldn't reclaim those lost years, no matter how desperately you wished to.

“But hey, did you have to use my trick a second time, though?” Jeonghan’s voice cut through your train of thoughts. You registered the question and chuckled, shaking your head. “Thankfully, not yet.”

The sound of his laugh filled the space, chasing away the silence. You spotted his gig bag and gestured toward it with a slight tilt of your head. "You're here to get this repaired?”

​His eyes followed yours, and he shook his head with a small smile. “Just an exchange. Uncle Kang is particular about this specific guitar, so I volunteered.”

​“Ah, I see,” you said, your attention snapping from the bag to him. “If you haven’t picked the new one yet, let me show you around.”

​He studied you for a moment, a flicker of genuine relief crossing his face. “Please. Yes. I’d love that. I doubt he'll be finished tuning up today.” His weary sigh earned a quick laugh from you. ​You stood, the stool screeching a little on the floor. “Exactly, let’s get this over with.”

He nodded, rising from his seat as you started toward a part of the shop he’d never seen before. He followed, familiar with the layout yet thrown by the presence of a new door. You stopped, turned the knob, and stepped aside. Jeonghan stopped short, taking in the sight with unconcealed awe. This wasn't a shop; it was a vault. Massive cabinets and polished displays were packed with guitars of every conceivable make and style. The air felt different here—heavy with the scent of aged wood and lacquer. Each instrument, from the simplest acoustic to the most vibrant electric, seemed to hold its own unique story.

Jeonghan's breath hitched, and he choked, “This is... crazy.” He finally stepped past the threshold, shoulders slumping as he tried to take in the sheer scale of it all. You followed, letting him drown in the awe. You remembered that feeling—the moment you couldn't stand up from your knees when you first saw Uncle Kang's magnificent, hidden vault.

“I know. It feels like stepping into a musical dream,” you agreed, your voice hushed as you walked straight to a cabinet. The smooth, heavy wooden door hissed open at your touch. You glanced over your shoulder at Jeonghan, who looked lost amid the treasure. “Are you looking for something specific?”

He shook his head slightly, a small smile playing on his lips. “Not really, just with a pretty print is alright.” Hands tucked casually into his pockets, he walked over to where you stood. You nodded, immediately pulling out the ones you thought would catch his eye.

The two of you began your easy, rambling walk through the guitar section. It was full of easy laughter at the oddly broken guitars and hushed admiration for the beautiful ones. You were slightly stunned by how much Jeonghan knew. He wasn't kidding when he announced he'd be a “guitar genius” years ago—a time when he could barely manage to tie his own shoes.​

“What about this one?” Jeonghan asked, his hand hovering over an acoustic guitar lying on the far end of the cabinet. You immediately shot him a look of disapproval, scrunching your nose as you recalled your last experience with it.

​“Absolutely not. That might be the worst one here,” you declared with a definitive grimace, still vaguely icked by the memory of its dull, rattling sound. Jeonghan simply chuckled, a glint of amusement in his eye as he gave a slight nod. You turned your back on him, walking deeper into the room and launching into an explanation about the better models in the other display case.

​But then, you froze.

​A chill chased down your spine as the most exquisitely clear and resonant melody sliced through the air. The sound didn't just reach your ears—it enveloped you, stopping your breath mid-sentence.

​You spun around in a flash, completely astonished.

​Jeonghan stood there, the very guitar you had called the “worst one here” cradled in his arms. His fingers danced effortlessly over the fretboard, coaxing a sound so rich and magical it felt like a musical paradise had suddenly been unveiled. The melody filled the space, clean and captivating, leaving you utterly transfixed. You could only stare, your lips slightly parted in sheer awe.

​With a final, clean slide across the strings, the music ceased. He gently returned the guitar to the cabinet.

​“Wait a minute,” you managed to murmur, your voice barely a thread. You walked toward him, your eyes wide as if he’d just transformed into a superhuman. You reached into the cabinet, pulling the same acoustic guitar out again. “How did you—” You paused, genuinely floundering for words. “play it so… perfectly?”

​Your raw surprise made Jeonghan’s lips twitch; he had to bite down slightly to suppress a laugh. He inhaled, ready to speak, but you were already extending the guitar back to him.

​“Please play it again,” you pleaded, your expression a mix of urgency and desperation, a furrow deep between your eyebrows. “I need to hear it again.”

​Taken completely aback by your sudden, fierce passion, Jeonghan needed a few seconds to register the request. Then, a soft, amused smile finally broke free as he took the instrument back, dipping his head in a quick nod.

Jeonghan's smile deepened, a playful challenge in his eyes as he accepted the guitar. “I only know a few chords, though,” he teased, a blatant lie that made you roll your eyes.

That's how you two dropped everything and went back to the same spot to sit down.

You watched, mesmerized, as he settled the guitar against his chest, his gaze dropping to the fretboard with a sudden, serious focus.

He didn't launch into the complicated melody from before. Instead, his fingers started a pattern that was simpler, yet deeply moving: a slow, familiar, melancholic piece. It wasn't showy, but every note was perfectly placed, resonant, and clear—a testament not to the guitar's quality, but to the player’s skill.

The sound of the cheap wood vibrating against your chest was almost secondary to the pure feeling in the music. It was a song you had heard countless times, but played with a sincerity that made it sound entirely new. You found yourself swaying slightly, the initial shock giving way to a profound sense of calm. The way he manipulated the sound, softening a chord here, letting a note sustain there, was nothing short of artistry.

When he finished, the silence that followed felt enormous. He looked up, his expression innocent. “Better?”

You glanced up, locking eyes with him. You nodded, involuntarily and basically hating the fact that the music stopped. “I guess I'm just bad at this.” You chuckled, embarrassed as you recalled how you labelled the guitar ‘the worst one’, when, infact, it was perfectly fine.

The morning sunlight had long since surrendered to the warmer afternoon hours, but neither of you noticed the passing time. Uncle Kang, realizing you had everything completely figured out, had quietly slipped away with the lunch box ages ago.

“It's not like that. I've had my hated guitars before too.” He admitted, but you didn't budge. “Then, it was probably broken. I don't believe you'd embarrass yourself like me when you play so professionally.” You sighed, a small smile hovering on your lips.

He shifted, bringing the guitar back into his lap. “Want to try something simple? No labels, no judgment. Just... a chord?”

The afternoon sun, now a deep, buttery gold, stretched long shadows across the floor. You felt a quiet shift inside—the enormous silence had become a comfortable calm. You nodded, a genuine, unforced smile replacing the embarrassed one. “Yeah. I think I'd like that.” You reached out, slowly taking the neck of the guitar back into your hands, the light catching the polished wood. The lesson wasn't about the music; it was about the fear of failing, and that, at least, felt a little lighter now.

——

OCTOBER 9

The chair screeched against the floor, making Joshua hiss. Jeonghan rounded the table of his common room and plopped down on the couch beside Joshua, practically sticking to him like a magnet now.

“Can you literally leave me alone, you're a grown ass man, Jeonghan.”

“Well, I'm in need of some entertainment right now and you're not telling me about your long term girlfriend you soft launched yesterday.” He grinned teasingly, wiggling his eyebrows as Joshua glared at him.

“If it's so obvious, stop asking me,” Joshua sighed, scooting away on the couch to rest his elbow on the arm rest. Jeonghan clicked his tongue in disappointment, sinking into the couch with a bored expression on his face.

“Man, I'm just bored.” He grumbled, folding his arms as he stared up at the ceiling. “So basically in the whole friend group, I'm the only one who lacks a life partner now. Wow.” Jeonghan scoffed sadly, looking around the house as if he'd spot cupid somewhere in the corner.

“Well, not really,” Joshua's voice cut through the still silence as he scrolled through his phone. Jeonghan jolted awake, confused but eager.

“What do you mean?” He asked, adjusting his position to sit straight. Joshua tapped a few buttons on his phone screen before a small smirk bloomed on his lips.

“I mean this.” He said, flashing his phone screen toward Jeonghan. He immediately leaned close, eyes glued to the screen. Then his expression fell as soon as he understood—a whole new page on a dating app with his information and pictures.

Jeonghan snatched the phone from his hand, shouting complaints at the top of his lungs as Joshua fell to the floor laughing and wheezing.

“Are you sick!? I have a reputation to maintain, what the f—” He paused, stumbling on his own steps as he halted. “Wait, but I'm lowkey famous though,” he boasted, scrolling through all the list of people who wanted to match with him, a ton of them being his colleagues.

“See? That's why I—”

“Hong Y/N…” The name caught Joshua off guard, making him pause. Jeonghan stared at the phone screen, the words that left his mouth and the photo causing him to pause. Joshua stumbled away from the couch, immediately walking up to Jeonghan and grabbing the phone.

His jaw dropped. The name, the bio, the photo—it was you. His very own sister.

He stared into the screen, concerned and confused, but also feeling a bit cringe. The thought of his sister sending a match request to someone who had been like a brother to her in the past sounded too awkward to begin with. It sounded unbelievable too, because the request was from just yesterday, and Joshua is damn sure you don't remember Jeonghan even in your most nostalgic dreams.

“Wait,” Jeonghan murmured, peeking over Joshua's shoulder. “I know her—”

“You what!?” Joshua turned around at the speed of light, eyes widened. Ofcourse, he should know her as a childhood friend, not something more, nor something less. Jeonghan stumbled backwards, startled as he nodded slowly. Joshua shoved the phone closer towards his face, making him lean away, concerned.

“You mean this woman?” He repeated his question, but got the same answer. A quiet, simple nod. Joshua sighed in defeat, completely and utterly beyond confusion.

“How and where on earth…” he mumbled, putting his phone in his pocket as he made his way towards the couch again. Jeonghan leaned forward as soon as Joshua moved away, sighing in relief.

“What's so wrong with her anyway?” He asked, sitting at the edge of the dining table as he fixed table cloth. Joshua paused, coming to a realisation.

Jeonghan had probably seen you around. He definitely doesn't recognise you. Definitely.

“Literally everything,” Joshua sighed, having no intentions of telling him as he rested his head on the palm of his hand as he scrolled through his phone, stressed.

“Why? Do you know her? Who is she?” Jeonghan looked up from the table, raising an eyebrow as he tapped his foot on the wooden floor.

“No, and you don't have to either." Joshua dismissed with a clear tone of strictness in his voice. Jeonghan clicked his tongue, disappointed.

“Well, I think I like her. Send me her account.” Jeonghan said as he took out his phone from his pockets, ready to send a text as soon as possible.

“Yah!” Joshua huffed, eyes wide and eyebrows furrowed in annoyance. Jeonghan reciprocated his expression.

“What!” He exclaimed. “Stop acting like that!”

“I told you you don't have to know her!” Joshua repeated.

“Why! Is she someone so special to you?” Jeonghan questioned.

“Yes, right, she is. So what?”

Jeonghan opened his mouth to say something but stopped, and sighed, turning away. “So I was correct. I am dying single and alone.” He pouted, scrolling on his phone, uninterested.

“There are literally hundreds of patients who come to the clinic just to see your stupid face everyday by the way.” Joshua reminded him of the fact that people were dying over him, yet he always told himself that he didn't have anyone.

“They just…” Jeonghan paused, scrunching his nose. “They're nice, just not what I think I need.”

“Then leave it up to me, I'll find you one like literally next week.”

“Only if she's better than Y/n, tho—”

“Don't get on my nerves!” Joshua threw the couch pillow, hitting Jeonghan's head as he yelped in pain.

——

OCTOBER 10

Jeonghan felt like he was staring at a mirror reflecting his own stupidity. An idiot. A brain-wrecking fool. How could he have been so blind? He blankly stared at the photograph resting on the dark wooden table, the image itself a silent, sudden heartbreak—like the needle skipping on a record just as the music soared.

The photograph was old, a little faded, but safely preserved in a plastic sleeve. Yet, it felt less like a precious memory and more like a heavy revelation dumped on him all at once.

“Mom…” he finally managed, his voice a low drag. “Are you absolutely sure this is Joshua’s sister? It could be a friend… a cousin.”

​His mother didn't even look up from slicing strawberries. She gave a confident shake of her head, the action final and uncompromising. “I’m not mistaken, dear. Not at all. I even remember the exact park, the exact day your father took this.”

​A bizarre cocktail of emotions—surprise, a dizzying happiness, a sense of rightness—churned in his stomach. A precious, lost piece of his childhood had been right here, close enough to touch. He’d unknowingly found a profound connection with someone who now filled his thoughts.

​But the joy curdled into a sharp, bitter regret. The easy, genuine smile you brought to his face—the one that was rarely offered to a stranger1—was shattered by the ghost of a childhood promise.

​Brother. He’d sworn to be your strongest brother.

​How, in the face of that memory, could he ever look at you now as a woman? How could he see you as anything other than the little sister he'd promised to protect?

But a more bitter, chilling thought silenced him: Did you know? Were you aware from the very start? You couldn't have been as blind as he was. So, why didn't you tell him?

——

OCTOBER 11

The sharp, metallic slam of the mailbox echoed through the quiet afternoon, cutting through the soft hum of the dishwasher your mother was running. You were curled up on the common room sofa, a half-written chapter open on your laptop, pretending to work while really just scrolling through every possible old photo of Jeonghan you could find. Your mind was a messy battlefield: disbelief that you had been so willfully blind, and a terrifying elation that the man who had effortlessly charmed you was, in fact, your childhood confidant.

“Y/n-ah! Did you order something?” your mother called out, her voice slightly muffled.

You closed the laptop lid with a weary sigh. “No, Mom! I don’t think so.”

A minute later, she walked into the living room, her arms full. Full of things. There was a massive white bakery box tied with a silky silver ribbon, a small bouquet of delicate white orchids, and nestled amongst them, a thick, cream-coloured envelope.

She set the gifts on the coffee table with a surprised, pleased smile. “The delivery man just dropped these off. It was a rather big parcel. And guess who sent this?” She asked, more than excited to reveal the name.

“...who?” You asked, still processing the mountain of gifts. “Yoon Jeonghan.” She chirped, picking up the elegant, cream envelope. “I think he is back in town, but oh I wish he visited himself. That boy remembered us after decades.” She smiled before handing the envelope to you.

“And he specifically marked this one as ‘Read First.’ for you.” She looked at you with an almost too-knowing glint in her eyes.

You stared at the pile, your heart beginning to beat a frantic, uneven rhythm. Orchids. He still remembered. It felt too grand, too fast for a person who, as far as he knew, was still a complete stranger who haggled over pastry prices and guitar chords.

But then your mother pushed the cream envelope toward you.

“Go on,” she urged, heading back to the kitchen. “I’m putting the box in the fridge. That beautiful cake needs to be saved for later.”

Your hands were shaking slightly as you picked up the envelope. It was heavy, sealed with a sophisticated wax stamp you couldn't quite decipher. You carefully broke the seal, unfolded the single sheet inside, and instantly recognized the elegant, slightly tilted handwriting.

You read it once, quickly, the words a blur of shock and excitement.

You read it again, slowly, letting the weight of each line settle in your chest.

Now, before I begin, I asked Joshua.

Yes, you knew everything. No wonder I connected with you so well, orchid. I know it sounds sudden but let’s meet tomorrow, there’s too much to catch on. Hopefully I’m not getting stood up –

hannie

Your breath hitched, painfully trapped in your throat. He knew. The realization hit with the force of a sudden stop. How? It didn't matter. Your internal world exploded: joy and terror indistinguishable in the chaos. Were you free now, or just exposed?

The air left your lungs with a soft puff. Orchid. The silly, childish nickname he'd given you because you were holding two orchids in your hands on the first day you met. And Hannie. Your own silly nickname for him. Twenty-three years had vanished in a single, perfectly written word.

You lifted your head, a dizzy smile blooming on your face. He knew. And he was asking to meet. The suddenness of it was jarring, but the sincerity, the sheer relief in his words, was palpable. He hadn't wanted to be a stranger either.

You checked the small note tucked into the end of the letter. “Tomorrow. 10 AM. The old clock tower near the riverside park.”

10 AM. You smiled. You wouldn’t be late for this.

——

OCTOBER 12

The cold rain wasn't a sprinkle; it was a rhythmic, drumming downpour. You were huddled deep under the narrow, cracked awning of the old closed bus stop nearest the clock tower, pulling the sleeves of your cardigan over your hands. It was 10:05 AM, and the riverside park was deserted, save for the relentless drumming of water.

You'd arrived too early, a flutter of excitement making punctuality impossible. Part of you was eager to witness the end of that polite, awkward distance—the shift from stranger to friend—and the other part simply dreaded being late for a moment you'd awaited so long.

A few minutes later, you heard a hurried splish-splash and looked up. Formal was the last word to describe Jeonghan's entrance.

He came jogging into view with a huge, bright yellow plastic bag pulled over his head like a makeshift, ridiculous poncho. It was a perfect absurdity that made you instinctively laugh under your breath, your nervousness dissolving for a split second. He skidded to a stop, quickly shoving the bag off and running a hand through his perpetually damp, black hair, sending droplets flying.

“I'm sorry I kept you waiting,” Jeonghan huffed between breaths, his voice warm despite the cold. He was already wet, but the smile on his face was sweet and genuine. “And this isn't a very ideal way to show up.”

“I think you're perfectly fine, hannie,” you assure with a smile, the nickname slipping through like an old, familiar habit that happens before you realise it. His lips twitched at the name, the nervousness that was tightening in his chest earlier soothing now.

“And I think you're lying, orchid,” he replies, a velvet layer of playfulness in his voice that makes your heart flutter. You smile, a genuine and soft one.

You lean in just a little, your gaze warm and steady as you hold out a handkerchief. “I mean it. A little rain can't possibly change that this warmer tone of brown suits you alot.” You pause, offering a gentle, almost shy smile. "Now please, dry off a bit before you freeze.”

His gaze lingers on you for a second longer, then he gently takes the handkerchief. “You think so? I think green suits me more, doesn't it?” He asked, keeping his eyes on you as he began wiping his face and hand.

You watch a kid passing by on his bicycle under the rain before nodding toward the street, a soft laugh escaping you. “You're not wrong,” you confirm, your voice soft and honest. “But I'm worried that sweet smile of yours is about to turn into a shiver. We can debate colors once you're standing next to that restaurant heater. Come on, let's get going.”

——

The cozy ambience of the traditional restaurant soothed your cold senses as your fingertips absorbed the warmth from the cup of hot coffee. You look outside the small, wooden window, the rain tapping mutely against the glass. The weather was completely contrasting with your heart. The rain brought immense cold, winter air swooshing through and through the town, but you felt warm inside.

You don't know if it's the coffee, or the fact that you were sharing a day with someone you'd known 23 years ago.

A soft, weary sigh left you. Your eyes traveled back to the door that led to the restroom, waiting for Jeonghan to step outside any moment.

To be honest with yourself felt like a punishment. You were nervous. You didn't know what to say to him. You don't even know if he enjoys grapefruit now as much as he did back then. Why is fate even bringing you together again?

“Did I take too long? I'm sorry,” Jeonghan's voice pulled you out of your thoughts as he sat down across the table, his hair looking a little less damp. You shake your head, wearing a small smile.

“No, not at all.” You reassured, adjusting your position on the cushion.

“This feels nice, although I don't remember the last time I visited this restaurant.” Jeonghan says, grabbing the coffee mug that you ordered for him. It was lukewarm, heat spreading through his hand as he wrapped his fingers around the cup, seeking warmth. 

“Me too, actually,” you responded, turning to face him better. “I don't remember stepping in here after you went away. This was like a resting place in the evening after we played all day. I guess my 5 year old mind just couldn't wrap around the fact that she'd have to spend time without her friend.”

A soft smile ghosted your lips as you recalled, your finger tracing shapes absent-mindedly on the wooden table. Jeonghan's eyes softened, his heart tugging at the memory. He felt guilty, regretful and empty whenever he thought of his childhood days. His memories became a blur whenever he tried to think of the days after he moved away. It's faded, dusty and forgotten.

“Well…” Jeonghan's voice was a soft, low murmur, and you would barely catch it under the sound of the heavy rain outside if you weren't so absorbed in the moment. “It was unfair, we shouldn't have been forced to separate as kids.”

You managed a small, subtle nod, your lips flattening in a tight lipped smile. “Hey, I don't think I'm prepared enough to talk about the past yet. I might bawl my eyes out.”

A soft, breathy laugh followed your words, and you honestly wouldn't be able to take it all without a drop of year rolling down your cheek. Jeonghan's eyes drifted to the weather outside, then dropped to the mug he placed on the table with a quiet thud.

“Then we won't,” he said, his voice softer than ever, a smile gracing his lips. “I’m not really able to sort my mind out yet, but I felt like I had to meet you. I was… anxious that if I wasted any more time, I'd lose this chance.”

Jeonghan wasn't looking at you, but you couldn't look away from him. He had a relaxed, thoughtful, almost pensive expression on his face, his finger tracing the mouth of the cup. For the first time since you'd met him, you truly studied his face, taking in every subtle detail that had changed. And now that you realise, he hasn't changed so drastically for you to not recognise him at first glance.

“I'm sorry,” the words slipped out before you could think straight, your emotions taking over your tongue. Jeonghan raised his gaze, his eyes, which held a hint of confusion, lingering on you.

“Why?” He tilted his head, his eyebrows lifted slightly.

You bit your lower lip, briefly meeting his eyes. “For not telling you,” your voice wavered lightly, your eyes lingering on his hands for a moment before you squirmed on your seat, locking eyes with him. “Even though I knew everything.”

Jeonghan's lips curved into a smile, and a flicker of amusement crossed his face. “You almost made me feel better about myself,” he chuckled, observing your face for a split second. “But no, it's not you who should be apologising. I literally met you, talked to you, even shared a guitar, and still had the stupidity to ask you how you knew my name.”

A quick chuckle escaped you, forcing you to cover your grin and bite back a full laugh. Propped up on his elbow, Jeonghan watched, his cheek resting against the back of his hand, his eyes glittering with focused amusement.

“To be honest, I found out about that through a photobook that Joshua had in his bedroom from ages ago.” You admitted as you sheepishly glanced at Jeonghan. He leaned forward with interest, keeping his arms folded on the table.

“Joshua has a photobook? From our childhood?” He asked, receiving a nod from you as a response. Jeonghan sat back slowly, a deeply suspicious look spreading across his face. “Wait. Does it have a photo of me falling down from the stairs and landing my head straight on the huge wall ahead, then dad had to drive me to ER?” 

You wheezed, nodding at the memory that always stayed as clear as day in your mind. Jeonghan laughed along, but his eyes were following your every movement. He noted every detail he could: the curve of your lips looked so familiar even after years, your eyes still crinkled whenever you laughed, and your hand still instinctively went to tuck your hair behind your ear, the same nervous habit he remembered.

Your laughter died down to a soft, happy sigh. Jeonghan was still observing you, his initial amusement giving way to a more sincere, gentle smile. He waited patiently for you to catch your breath, the sound of the rain and the soft restaurant murmur filling the brief silence.

“Well,” you finally said, wiping a stray tear of laughter from your eye, “it has a picture of you right after the incident. Your head's wrapped in a giant white bandage, and you’re giving the camera a grumpy look while holding a melting popsicle. Joshua wrote ‘The Great wall of Korea (Jeonghan's version)’ underneath it.”

Jeonghan let out a loud, incredulous laugh, shaking his head. “Oh my God. That idiot kept that? I never healed from that embarrassment.” He paused, leaning back in his seat and running a hand through his slightly damp hair. “But seeing you laugh like this… it brings back a lot. Maybe it's not too late yet.”

“It was never too late. I mean, atleast not until we die.” You chuckle softly, looking at him with a glint of newfound hope in your eyes.

——

The air was sharp and cool against your cheeks. You and Jeonghan had left the warm anonymity of the café, stepping onto a quieter, tree-lined street where the residual cold drizzle kept the atmosphere misty and clean. He held the umbrella high over both of you, moving with a calm, easy rhythm that finally made the overwhelming tension from earlier feel manageable.

“You know,” you said, enjoying the comforting sound of the light rain hitting the nylon above your heads. “Your schedule seems surprisingly flexible for a man who claimed his life was just 'work.' Are you secretly retired? Does aunt know?”

Jeonghan chuckled, the sound warm and close. “Let's just say my team can handle things for a few more hours. I'd rather be here, judging your choice of umbrella color.” He nudged his shoulder lightly against yours, a casual, friendly gesture that was anything but casual.

“Well I think black and yellow is a cute combination.” You were about to continue, when a sudden splash of color caught your eye. Tucked into the wrought-iron fence of an old house was a dense burst of late-blooming, dark purple flowers.

"Woah, what are these flowers?" you murmured, stopping abruptly to admire the vibrant hue against the muted backdrop of the rain-damp street.

Jeonghan stopped with you, pulling the umbrella back slightly to give you a clear view. He looked at the flowers, then back at you, a soft, unguarded look in his eyes. He lowered his voice, just for you.

“They're called 'Love-in-a-Mist',” he explained, his tone gentle and patient. “I think they’re beautiful because they shouldn’t survive this late in the year, but they do anyway.”

He shifted the umbrella, ensuring you were perfectly shielded. For a long moment, he simply looked at you, the easy banter gone, replaced by profound sincerity.

“Look,” he said softly, his voice barely rising above the sound of the mist. “I know I might've asked to meet too soon. I'm sorry. I haven’t figured out... the right way to be around you yet. But I'm having a really good time, Y/n.”

His lips bloomed a small, honest smile. You couldn't help but reciprocate, you hummed softly and nodded in understanding. But before you could say a word, his phone blared with an urgent, piercing alert tone. It was a sound that signaled immediate, non-negotiable crisis.

The change in him was instantaneous and shocking. The warm, playful man vanished. His eyes went cold, clinical, and intensely focused. He answered the phone with a low, firm, authoritative voice.

“This is Jeonghan. What's the status? I need a clear assessment of the damage. Is the site secure? I'm ten minutes out. Tell the team I need everyone prepped immediately.”

He snapped the phone shut, the decision final. He was already moving.

“Y/N, I have to go. Now. This is... a situation that requires me there immediately. I’m sorry and I'll call you, okay?”

He thrust the umbrella into your hand, the weight of the object a startling substitute for his sudden absence. He turned on his heel without waiting for your response, and sprinted away down the street.

You stood alone on the damp sidewalk, the umbrella heavy in your hand feeling suddenly foreign and huge in your hand. The air, which had felt warm moments ago, was now just a cold, biting mist.

You watched the space where Jeonghan had just been, your mind refusing to process the speed of his departure. One second, he was looking at you with that gentle, sincere expression, making a sweet, playful promise. The next, he was a cold, efficient stranger barking commands into a phone, sprinting away as if you were entirely irrelevant.

You blinked once, hard. The silence was deafening now, broken only by the persistent tap-tap-tap of the drizzle hitting the umbrella above your head.

Your heart, which had just been thrumming with anticipation, felt like a small, startled bird trapped in your chest. You walked a few steps, dragging your feet, the sound loud on the wet pavement.

You looked down at the umbrella he had thrust into your hand, its handle still slightly warm. It was his last physical trace, the only evidence that the moment of connection hadn't been a dream.

You kicked a small, loose pebble across the sidewalk, feeling the sudden, ridiculous surge of sulky frustration.

"Unbelievable," you mumbled to the empty street, your voice muffled and small. You tightened your grip on the umbrella. "A situation at the site? Is that really more important than finally meeting your best friend after two decades?"

The absurdity of the comparison made a tiny, bitter laugh escape you. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair that you were finally making progress breaking through the initial awkward barrier, only to have his entire secret, high-stakes life intervene. He had chosen the crisis over the connection, leaving you holding his umbrella and his unspoken promise to walk you home.

——

The day went by with absolutely no text or call from Jeonghan, leaving you feeling forgotten. You held your phone as your finger hovered above the keyboard many times, only to drown in your thoughts again and refuse to be the one to reach out first.

It wasn't stubbornness, it was self respect. He was the one that abruptly left and you stood under that umbrella all alone. He had some explanation to do, and you weren't going to ask him for it.

But he called a day later, repeating apologies like it was a prayer, a routine. You couldn't really say ‘it's fine’ sincerely until you understood his situation, but you did say it, atleast for the name's sake.

——

OCTOBER 15

The air outside was cold, damp, and perfectly still—the kind of light weather after rain that felt comfortable even when large puddles covered the streets. You were ready, dressed in your heaviest coat, feeling a tight, wary tension coiled in your chest. You needed answers, but you didn't want to show how much his abrupt departure had affected you.

You peered through the window before opening the door.

Jeonghan was standing just outside your garden gate. He was leaning against the stone pillar, hands shoved deep into the pockets of his heavy wool coat. He looked tired and slightly rumpled as if he hadn't gotten enough sleep because he was worried. He was completely still, patiently waiting, exposed to the cold air.

His car was idling silently at the curb nearby.

When you pulled the front door open, the sound drew his attention instantly. He straightened up, pushing off the pillar, his eyes meeting yours with a look of pure, focused sincerity.

You walked down the path, the crunch of your shoes on the damp asphalt loud in the quiet street.​You walked down the path, the crunch of your shoes on the damp asphalt loud in the quiet street. You simply reached the gate and waited for him to speak.

​“Good evening,” you greeted softly, a subtle smile on your lips. You noticed the way Jeonghan's worried expression softened, a huge weight—one he didn't even realize he was carrying—lifted off his shoulders.

​He opened his mouth to speak, his voice just above a whisper. “I almost thought you wouldn't want to see me again.”

​Jeonghan's face wasn't marked by panic, but by a deep, weary guilt. His eyes, though relieved you were here, still held a gentle seriousness. He had resolved many high-stress situations with unmatched calmness, but this felt different. He looked like he genuinely needed this conversation as much as you did.

​”I need to apologize properly, Y/n,” he continued, his tone low and soft, conveying a deep respect. “I know I left you confused.”

​You watched him carefully, realizing how much the awkwardness was genuinely affecting him. You knew this conversation needed to be serious, but you needed a break in the tension.

​“Well, I'm not very convinced yet,” you replied, leaning slightly against the gate. You managed a lighthearted, playful tone. “You might have some bribing to do.”

​A flicker of genuine relief and warmth crossed his features, melting some of the fatigue around his eyes.

​”I will,” he said immediately, his voice earnest. “I want to, and I need to. I promise I won't make the apology feel half.”

​You smiled at him then—a warm, true smile that reached your eyes, signaling that while the issue wasn't resolved, you were willing to listen.

​In that brief moment, Jeonghan's composure slipped. His heart gave a heavy, rapid jump in his chest, a purely physical reaction to the sight of your unguarded warmth. He instantly told himself he was being stupid; he shouldn't be getting distracted from the actual, serious reason he was here. He tried to convince himself it was just the residual nervousness from the emergency call, causing his heart to beat a little faster than usual.

​He tried to smile back fully, managing only a quick, controlled curve of his lips before he gestured and guided you toward the idling car.

​“Let's go,” he murmured. “I have the perfect spot for you to feel a bit better.”

——

You stepped outside the car, the crispy autumn leaves crushing beneath your shoes as the cool breeze hit almost immediately, making you hug your torso tightly. You walked a few steps ahead, admiring the view as Jeonghan closed the car door behind you.

The lookout point was not a formal park, but a wide, flattened shoulder of the hill, edged by a low, weathered stone wall. Along this wall, facing the illuminated city, were several sturdy, built-in wooden benches, permanently installed for visitors. They were worn smooth by the seasons.

Beyond the wall, the world dropped away.

​The rain was long gone, and the sky above was a breathtaking canvas of deep, cold navy, pricked everywhere by fiercely bright stars. Directly in front of you, the vast, sprawling city was laid out like a geographical map made of light—a mesmerizing, chaotic blanket of white, gold, and amber.

​The distance was immense. The usual sounds of horns and traffic were completely absent, replaced only by a low, continuous hum—the abstract, collective sound of thousands of lives being lived far below.

“I drove up here because I knew we couldn't do this conversation next to a cash register.” Jeonghan's voice, low and gentle, blended seamlessly, making the silence feel even softer. He stood behind you, maybe a few steps away, but you felt him come close just a bit, enough for you to feel the warmth radiating from his body.

“I think you like it,” he remarked, a soft smile ghosting his lips. “Maybe a bit too much.”

You tilted your head, a relaxed smile already on your face. “I like it here. It feels like I'm looking at Beon-dong from the sky.” You say, turning your head and glancing at him for a brief second. He hummed in response before a comfortable silence fell, the chirping of crickets and the faint sound of wind making the atmosphere peaceful.

“I'm sorry,” then, it finally happened. Jeonghan's gentle voice reached your ears, and your eyes drifted off to a tree that stood a few feet away. He didn't wait for a response, nor an action, and continued with the same tone.

“It was disrespectful to just leave you there all alone, especially in that weather,” he said, his gaze flickering to you before it faced ahead at the town lights. “I might've looked or sounded crazy after that phone call, but I need you to know it was just… important. Too important. Someone's life was at stake, and I had to be there.”

You spun around, a subtle shock instantly painting your face, your lips parting in silent confusion. "Had to be there...?"

​Jeonghan nodded, his gaze meeting yours for a heavy moment before dropping to the floor. A low, weary sigh escaped him, an answer in itself. “It's my job. I always have a life on my hands, depending on me completely to save it. It's scary, sometimes, but it feels like I'm built for this now.”

Your eyes never left him as he spoke, taking in the way his calm, soft expression didn't match his heavy words. His eyes were quiet, settled on the town beneath the hill. He kept his hands deep in his pockets, and the only break in the stillness was his smart watch that would light up on its own, flashing a quick glance at his long schedule.

“You…” you murmured, your eyes lingering on his face as if you were trying to see through him. “You're a doctor?”

Jeonghan's eyes turned to you, a glint of surprise in them. “You got it.” He chuckled, his lips blooming with a charming smile.

——

“So 7 year old Jeonghan, who taught me how to cheat better without getting caught, was actually serious when he did experiments with thermocol hearts?”

Jeonghan's bright, chiming laugh filled the air, his eyes reflecting the dazzling, scattered jewels of the town lights far below. You glanced at him, a warm grin stretching across your face. He took a shaky breath to quell the laughter, then turned to you, his smile reaching his eyes—a soft, genuine curve.

​“I guess so,” he managed, chuckling quietly. “He really took it seriously.” His gaze drifted back to the view. You took a moment, letting the cool evening breeze wrap around you, smelling the faint scent of pine before you spoke again. “And I’m really proud of you.”

Jeonghan's cool composure visibly cracked. His expression softened, a subtle smile touching his lips, and his eyes glinted with a raw, unmistakable gratefulness. He was genuinely taken aback. Slowly, his gaze turned to meet yours.

​Your smile didn't waver; it grew warmer, an open, honest expression that met his gaze and confirmed your sincerity.

​“Although that doll of mine never healed from your experimental ‘surgeries',” you said gently, “she’d be happy to know she wasn't sacrificed for nothing.”

​Jeonghan blinked, his chest constricting. The sudden silence seemed to amplify his heartbeat, a loud, heavy thump-thump in his ears, and he prayed you couldn't hear it. His face held nothing but pure gratitude—the exact reassurance he hadn't realized he’d been craving. He had heard the words from his parents, but hearing them from you, now, was different. A tremor of emotion ran through him, and he had to look away as his lips twitched, threatening to bloom into a wide, unguarded grin.

​He took a breath, letting a fraction of his usual coolness return. “Thanks,” he replied, his voice surprisingly steady. Then, the corner of his mouth lifted into a smirk. “You’ll get a complimentary discount on your first heart surgery.”

​The dark joke landed perfectly, making you laugh—a bright, genuine sound—as he finally allowed himself a small, fond chuckle.

——

OCTOBER 18

The university library was quiet, warm, and smelled pleasantly of old paper and dust. You were hunched over a spread of notebooks at a large mahogany table in the reference section, your forehead resting against the cool wood in a gesture of absolute defeat.

“I just don't know why she wouldn't trust him!” you groaned, lifting your head. “It makes no sense for her character arc.”

Mingyu, your colleague, leaned in close, his posture easy and familiar, his large frame crowding your space slightly. He rested his elbow on the table, tilting his head. “She wouldn't trust him because she's always been betrayed,” he whispered back, gently tapping a note on your page. “You need to plant a seed of doubt, Y/n. Something small, something unavoidable.”

You laughed, a quick, genuine burst of air. “You're right, you're always right!” you said, patting his arm.

A few minutes later, the door to the reference section hissed open, and someone walked in. But you two were too engrossed in fixing the plotholes to see people come and go.

It was Jeonghan—wearing a simple, dark turtleneck and his thin, silver-rimmed glasses, presenting a look of focused purpose.

His gaze was immediately trained high, locked onto the section of the shelves that held the obscure medical journal he needed. He walked directly to the required shelf, his attention entirely devoted to finding the rare volume.

He pulled out the heavy journal with quiet satisfaction. It was only after the book was safely in his hands that he allowed his concentration to break. He leaned back slightly against the shelf, and his gaze drifted down and across the room.

That's when he saw the table.

And that's when he saw you.

A soft, genuine smile began to form on his face—he was completely unprepared to see you here, in the serious, quiet corner of the city. He started to take a step toward the table, eager to greet you, but he stopped short.

He registered the man sitting beside you—Mingyu. The younger colleague leaned in close, his posture easy and familiar, his shoulder lightly pressed against yours as he pointed to your notes. You both looked utterly engrossed in a private consultation.

Jeonghan frowned. Recognizing Mingyu, he instantly decided not to disturb, assuming that it had to do something with your work. He turned his attention back to his books.

As he shifted the heavy journal, he noticed a brightly colored paperback wedged sideways next to his serious tome. He pulled it out of idle curiosity. The title screamed in bold font: “10 Ways Guys Act When They Like Someone.”

Jeonghan frowned, flipping it open. His eyes landed on the line at the top: “He Gets Too Physical.”

He immediately glanced back at your table. Mingyu was now resting his chin on his hand, tilting his head dramatically, his large frame occupying your space as he spoke earnestly about plot twists.

They are colleagues. That's professionalism. But why is his arm practically around her? He quickly flipped to the next page, trying to rationalize the strange, tight feeling in his chest.

The next point read: “He Finds Excuses to Delay Leaving.”

Just then, Mingyu sighed dramatically. “Okay, I'm starving. I need coffee. You are not to move until I get back. This is the crucial part.” He then paused, looking down at his notes for an exaggerated amount of time before slipping away.

​He just found an excuse to come back and delay this. This book is absurdly accurate.

Jeonghan felt a knot tighten in his chest. He snapped the paperback shut, looking genuinely irritated with the book's author, and shoved it back onto the shelf.

He took one last, lingering look at your table before turning to leave.

But you looked up just as he was turning away. Your eyes widened with immediate surprise, then lit up with a brilliant, genuine smile.

“Jeonghan-ah?” you called out softly. “What are you doing here?”

Jeonghan froze mid-step. The shock of being seen, combined with the warmth of your spontaneous smile, instantly melted his… whatever he was feeling a second ago. A true, full smile broke across his face.

“Y/n,” he replied, walking slowly toward the table, adjusting his sleeves. “Just borrowing a ridiculously outdated journal. I figured you and Mingyu were having a serious conversation so I just decided to slip away.” He pulled out the empty chair Mingyu had just vacated and sat down seamlessly next to you.

Mingyu, halfway to the door, spun around at the sound of Jeonghan's name, his face lighting up with genuine excitement. “JEONGHAN HYUNG!” He rushed back. “What are you doing in this corner of the library? I thought you lived on the other side of the town!”

Jeonghan smiled fondly at his younger colleague. “Hey, gyu. Still shouting in quiet zones, I see.”

“You know each other?” Mingyu asked, looking between the two of you, bewildered.

“Yes,” you confirmed, amused by the sudden, intense shift in focus.

“How? Why didn't you say anything?” Mingyu persisted, a small pout on his face.

“None of your business, little one.” Jeonghan answered smoothly, but without malice—it was the familiar, exasperated bickering tone they shared. He pulled the chair closer to your side.

“Hey! I'm literally the same age as Y/n!” Mingyu argued, but sat down across the table with a defeated sigh.

Mingyu immediately started trying to engage Jeonghan in a rapid-fire discussion about his recent work, but Jeonghan simply leaned toward you, his attention laser-focused on the problem you had introduced.

“So, about this betrayal plot hole,” Jeonghan began, immediately looking at your notes. “You’re missing the logical motivation. I had a thought while I was looking for a book.”

You laughed softly, easily pulled back into the problem. “See? I knew you'd have an opinion.”

Mingyu watched the two of you fall into a deep, intense discussion about character motivations and structural integrity. Within five minutes, he was slouched over the table, his enthusiastic excitement replaced by genuine boredom. Soon, Mingyu's head rested on his crossed arms, and he was completely asleep, his soft breathing a quiet counterpoint to your suddenly intense conversation.

Jeonghan glanced at his sleeping friend, a small, endearing smile briefly touching his lips before he turned back to you, his eyes shining with focus and a comfortable, undeniable connection.

“Why doesn't she trust him?” he murmured, lowering his voice now. “Let's figure this out.”

You nodded, finally feeling relieved with someone by your side who was as thoughtful as Mingyu.

——

OCTOBER 25

The small, independent bookstore café you favored was closed, but the owner—a friend who admired your work—had let you use one of the cozy, partitioned booths in the back. The air was quiet and still, smelling faintly of roasted beans and damp paperbacks. A single low lamp on your table casted a focused, golden pool of light over a scatter of notebooks and research papers.

Jeonghan had arrived shortly after you, wearing a comfortable hoodie, and the sight of him dedicating his intense focus entirely to your chaotic creative process made your chest tighten with an unfamiliar emotion.

“Okay,” you said, gesturing to the papers. “I'm stuck. It's the moment the protagonist needs to choose her motivation, but the logic is flimsy.”

Jeonghan leaned forward, his whole being narrowing onto your words. You watched the way the lamplight highlighted the clean, strong line of his jaw and the singular, focused intensity in his eyes. This was the quality you found so intoxicating: his ability to shut out the world and apply his sharp, systematic logic to your creative, chaotic universe.

“The logic is never flimsy, Y/n. It's just buried under the emotional wreckage,” he murmured. He pointed to a specific note you’d written. “You said she values safety above everything, right? So, ask yourself, if safety is the highest value, what is the least logical thing she could do that still serves that fear?”

As he spoke, he traced a line across your notes. His index finger, surprisingly elegant and steady, drifted onto the edge of your hand. He didn't pull away immediately. The brief, electric contact—skin to skin—felt like a small, unexpected surge of static in the quiet room. Your breath hitched slightly. He continued speaking, completely unaware of the physical contact, yet the quiet intimacy of the shared concentration felt like a secret confession only you received.

You realized with startling clarity that this feeling was no longer just the comfort of a childhood friend. It was the specific, overwhelming pull of attraction. He was focused on solving your problem, and that total, selfless attention was the most intimate thing he could offer.

You quickly pulled your focus back to the problem. “The least logical thing that serves the fear…” you repeated, your voice trailing off as the ideas began to flow. “Wait. What if her motivation isn’t fear of loss, but fear of hope?”

“Hope is a risk,” Jeonghan agreed instantly, his eyes shining with understanding. “If she chooses hope, she has to trust. And if she trusts, she can be betrayed again.”

For the next half hour, the two of you worked in perfect harmony, a seamless braid of logic and creativity. He was brilliant, precise, and completely absorbed in your world, offering the full capacity of his focus. Every time he validated an idea or dissected a premise, your respect and something you couldn't or didn't want to pinpoint—deepened.

When the final plot point snapped into place with satisfying certainty, you both leaned back, simultaneously sighing in relief.

“You are incredible,” you breathed, gathering the papers, meeting his eyes. “I would have been stuck on that for weeks.”

Jeonghan met your gaze, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “We are incredible,” he corrected softly, his eyes reflecting the deep, private pleasure of shared success.

Your heart skipped, acknowledging the ‘we.’ You knew, sitting there under the café light, that your heart was reacting in a different way. And now, only a cardiologist could fix that.

——

OCTOBER 30

Jeonghan texted you the next afternoon: No emergencies. Clean sweep. 7 PM. I want to see if you can keep up with me when the stakes are low.

You met him not at the university, but at a large, brightly lit independent bookstore downtown. It was deliberate, public, and not work-related, which felt like a victory.

Jeonghan was leaning against a shelf near the entrance, looking relaxed in a dark sweater. He spotted you, and the easy smile he wore suggested he was already planning his victory.

“You shouldn't keep me waiting for so long, orchid.” Jeonghan teased, an easy smile on his face that you loved. He pushed himself off the shelf and walked to you, placing the small book he had in his hands on a table.

“I'm only five minutes late, hannie, don't exaggerate.” You replied as you side eyed him, trying to hide your smile.

“Hm,” he hummed in understanding, looking away for a split second before a soft smile bloomed on his lips. “Anyways, this is a date. In the sense that two adults are attempting to spend time together without a medical emergency or a dissertation crisis.”

You smiled, taking a step forward as you looked around. “That sounds fun. But, why here?”

“Because,” he said, coming to stand beside you, his voice lowering to a playful conspiratorial whisper, “We’re going to play a game, and that requires being in the presence of books.”

You turned your head, just enough to be able to meet his eyes. “A game? With books?” He nodded, the edges of his lips tightening as he closed his eyes for a split second.

That smile. The simple act he always does that gives reassurance, understanding and affection—all at once.

“If you want to, ofcourse.”

“I’d love to. Tell me about it.” You agreed immediately, not leaving any room for further questions. Jeonghan paused for a moment, then broke into a grin.

——

And that's how you went round and around the library in less than ten minutes, checking each and every corner or shelf.

Yoon Jeonghan, the simple menace he is, had set a challenge for the both of you—find a book that describes eachother the best. Familiar with almost every corner here, you figured it'd be easy for you, as long as Jeonghan didn't try to do something funny.

You spotted him a few minutes later, hunched over a shelf, his brow furrowed in concentration.

"Find anything interesting, Doctor?" you teased, walking past.

He immediately snatched the book he was looking at and held it behind his back. "Nothing you need to worry about. Just making sure the philosophy section hasn't corrupted me yet."

You didn't push. Instead, you found a ridiculous, brightly colored paperback titled The Existential Dread of Being Very Attractive and held it up. "Does this count?"

He just laughed, his eyes crinkling. "Thirty minutes, orchid, focus!”

——

You met him by a cozy corner of the library exactly on time. The sunset glow through the window complemented his features, making him look angelic. You were holding a small, serious-looking volume titled The Unwavering Line. Jeonghan was holding two books, a complicated, slightly sheepish expression on his face.

“I’ll go first,” you say, placing your find on your lap. “I chose this. The Unwavering Line. Because even when you're laughing, your core is rigid. You're driven by duty, and you will choose the difficult, ethical, logical path every single time.”

Jeonghan let out a soft exhale. “Ouch. That's a direct hit.”

He placed his first book down. It was the thin black volume he'd tried to hide, titled: A Quick Guide to Fixing Broken Things.

“I chose this for you,” he said, his smile faltering slightly. “Because your entire life right now is fixing the broken narrative threads of your protagonists. You are constantly in repair mode.”

You pouted slightly. “Jeonghan, you're doing that clinical thing again. Are you still seeing my writing career as a problem that needs a solution?”

His eyes immediately went wide before he pushed the book aside. “I— no, orchid, I didn't mean it like that. I'm really sorry,” he sighed.

“Hey, I was just joking. You don't have to explain yourself.” You smiled, taking the black book from his hands. 

He then placed his second book on his lap. It was a slim, unassuming poetry collection, its title warm and inviting: Quiet Lessons under the glow of the moon.

“This is what I chose first,” he admitted, looking vulnerable. He didn't look at the book; his eyes were on you. “I chose this because, honestly, you make the serious moments feel easy. You remind me that there's a space—that this space is simple and hopeful. You embody the beautiful, messy, domestic comfort I forgot existed. I chose it because I think this describes… you.”

The sincerity in his gaze was a direct hit.

“...that's beautiful,” you whispered, reaching out to gently touch his sleeve, your eyes on the book. “You definitely win, hannie.”

“We both won,” he corrected, picking up both your book and his poetry book. “So let me treat you tonight. You can do it someday later.”

He gently took your hand—this time, it was a soft, gentle grip that felt like a clear statement of affection—and led you out of the bookstore and toward the warm glow of a nearby café.

——

NOVEMBER 8

A few days later, you found yourselves in the bright, busy supermarket. Jeonghan pushed the cart, leaning casually on the handle, clearly enjoying the absurdity of the errand.

"Wait, you're telling me your ‘monthly’ restock lasted less than a week?" Jeonghan chuckled, shaking his head, finding your frustrated expression adorable.

"Don't look at me," you huffed, crossing your arms. "It was seok, hao, and gyu. They basically showed up, opened all the cabinets, and became human vacuum cleaners."

"Ah, the price of collaboration," Jeonghan teased, pulling your list out and snapping it open. "Right. 'Essential comforts' only. No more raiding."

He paused in the produce aisle. "Okay, we need lettuce, sure. But we need fun food. Snacks are essential for emergency meetings."

"That sounds suspiciously like a bribe for your future plotting help," you countered, reaching for a bag of chips.

He took the chips with a laugh, gently tossing them back. “Nuh-uh. Gourmet pretzels. Less guilt, better crunch.” The casual bickering felt effortless and wonderfully normal.

You were arguing over which frozen pizza was “least disappointing” when Jeonghan's phone ringed. He pulled it out, glancing at the caller ID: Dr. Choi.

Jeonghan frowned slightly, then leaned back against the cart, shifting his focus. You watched him answer the call, his voice dropping slightly.

“Hey, Dr. Choi,” he answered. “Lunch at the new place?”

He listened for a brief moment—you could hear the muffled, excited chatter of his friends on the line.

He glanced over at you, smiling lightly at your intense study of the pizza box.

"Yeah, sorry," he said into the phone, his voice easy but firm. "Can't make it today. I've actually got a prior engagement I can't ditch... Yeah, it's a pretty important consulting gig. Tell them I said hi, and I'll catch them next week."

He hung up, slipping the phone back into his pocket.

He pushed the cart toward you and looked directly into your eyes. "A lunch invite from the guys," he explained simply.

You felt a little flutter of warmth—he was choosing this.

"A very important consulting gig, huh?" you teased, nudging the cart. "Does this gig pay in pepperonis?"

Jeonghan's eyes crinkled with genuine, affectionate humor. "It pays in domestic bliss. And yes, it requires my undivided focus." He gently guided the cart forward, resting his hand softly on your lower back for a fleeting, intentional moment.

"They'll survive lunch without me," he murmured, his voice low and sincere. "I'm off the clock. And my new routine involves making sure you're properly stocked for whatever chaos your friends decide to unleash next."

The simplicity and certainty of his choice made the sterile supermarket feel warmer than any café. He was prioritizing the small, comfortable moment with you.

——

NOVEMBER 20

The hospital lobby was aggressively bright and cold, even at 3:00 AM. The hallways were empty, the air heavy with the pervasive, slightly bitter scent of antiseptic and stale coffee—the smell of duty. You had been waiting nearly an hour in a stiff plastic chair near the residents’ entrance. Your phone, sitting in your lap, still held the last message from Jeonghan: Clear in 10-15. Don't wait. It arrived four hours ago.

You adjusted the bag beside you, which contained a thermos of steaming black coffee, a massive high-protein sandwich, and a clean, soft crewneck sweater. You weren't here to demand his time; you were here to perform a necessary, quiet function.

A door swished open down the corridor, and a figure leaned heavily against the jamb. It was Jeonghan, but reduced to his most fundamental, exhausted state.

He wasn't wearing his usual crisp shirt or even clean scrubs. His hair was damp and matted to his forehead, his scrubs were wrinkled and likely stained with old coffee or something worse, and his face was pale, lined with a deep, crushing weariness. He was holding himself up only by leaning his shoulder against the doorframe, his eyes half-closed.

He saw you, but the sheer effort of pulling his lips into a smile seemed too much.

“You didn't leave,” he murmured, his voice rough and low, sounding like gravel.

You were instantly on your feet, moving toward him. “You said 'ten to fifteen,' Jeonghan. That was before the last two hours of silence.”

You reached him and didn't try to touch his face or hug him—you knew better than to interfere with the exhausted shell of a surgeon. Instead, you gently took his elbow, steadying him, and guided him toward a nearby bench, carefully maneuvering his heavy body.

“Sit,” you commanded softly.

He obeyed instantly, collapsing onto the hard plastic. He dropped his head into his hands, his messy hair falling over his fingers. You heard him breathe a deep, shaky sigh that held the exhaustion of a hundred hours.

“It was… exhausting,” he managed to say, the words alone costing him visible effort. He didn't offer a diagnosis or a story. He didn't need to.

You opened the bag, pulling out the coffee first. You didn't ask if he wanted it. You simply placed the hot cup directly into his trembling hands.

“Eat this,” you said, unwrapping the sandwich. “You probably haven't had a calorie in twelve hours.”

Jeonghan looked at the sandwich. Then, his eyes—dark and utterly devoid of his usual playful light—flickered up to yours. He had absolutely zero energy left to maintain his clinical facade, his flirtatious teasing, or his patience. He was completely, devastatingly exposed.

“I'm tired,” he admitted, his voice barely a whisper. “The energy... it’s all gone.”

​You didn't need to say anything. You gently wrapped the soft, clean scarf around his neck, providing a small barrier against the cold air and a comforting texture. Then, you eased his coat open and tucked a soft blanket you had also brought around his shoulders, wrapping him in a makeshift cocoon of warmth.

​He leaned his head against your shoulder as soon as you were seated beside him. The weight of his head was immense, and you realized how long he must have been on his feet. He didn't move to speak; he simply existed there, using your stability as his anchor.

“Y/n,” he said, his voice muffled against your coat, a genuine, raw sound of gratitude. “I don't know why you're still here, but... thank you. I needed you to be here.”

You simply held him, steady and quiet, in the cold, harsh light of the corridor. You understood then, with a crushing finality, that this was the life you would be committing to—a love measured in sterile hallway visits and exhausted, half-spoken confessions.

——

DECEMBER 2

It was a crisp morning, three days after the first significant snow of the season—the kind of soft, deep quiet that muffles the city. Around ten-thirty, you were exactly where you wanted to be: curled up in the warm cocoon of your bed, lost in a book, with a mug of hot coffee warming your hands.

Your phone buzzed softly on the bedside table.

You glanced over, and a small smile touched your lips at the sight of Jeonghan’s name.

Hannie: the snow near your house is much cleaner, I don't know why.

You paused, sipping your coffee, curious about the odd comment. A few seconds later, the phone buzzed again.

Hannie: did you wash the snow? With detergent?

You chuckled, shaking your head at his obvious teasing. You knew this was leading somewhere.

Hannie: Okay, what do I have to say for you to know that I'm outside your house right now.

That made you laugh aloud, setting your coffee down quickly. You recognized his cute excuses and his impatience. You quickly opened the curtains and slid the glass door open to your balcony.

The cold air hit you immediately, raising goosebumps on your arms, but your gaze was locked instantly on the ground below. There stood Jeonghan, dressed in a thick, handsome coat and a knitted beanie, looking up and waiting impatiently for you to see him.

His expression lit up the second he saw you standing on the balcony.

“What are you doing here!” you shouted down, chuckling at the pure delight radiating from him.

With a wide grin, he shouted back, tilting his head with a teasing challenge. “Why can't I be here?”

You laughed, the cold air stinging your cheeks. “I'm not coming!” you shouted, just as a joke. He didn't budge. He knew you wouldn't let him wait long.

“Then I'll freeze here to death!” he shouted back, dramatically pulling his coat tighter around his neck.

You couldn't help but smile widely. “Okay, okay, Elsa! I'll be right there!” you shouted one last time before retreating quickly back inside to pull on a thick sweater and a muffler.

Meanwhile, Jeonghan’s grin was reaching his eyes, the victory of your simple compliance filling him with pure joy. He let out a deep breath of relief, watching the curtain fall back into place.

Then, he turned slightly to look toward the left side of your house, and his entire body immediately froze.

There stood Joshua. Leaning casually against a snow-dusted tree, dressed in a stylish but casual coat. His arms were crossed, his eyes narrowed, and the subtle, dangerous sign of his displeasure was the slight, deliberate poke of his tongue against his cheek.

Jeonghan's triumphant grin instantly dissolved into a sheepish, caught-in-the-act expression. He swallowed hard.

——

The rooftop patio of your house was surprisingly cozy. Joshua, always one for comfort, had strung warm fairy lights everywhere and set up a temporary clear roof and heavy plastic siding to protect the area from the elements. Inside, the space was filled with blankets, thick mats, and an enormous, soft beanbag chair.

You, Jeonghan, and Joshua were bundled up, sprawled around a low table littered with empty snack bags and nearly finished mugs of hot cider. The hours had flown by, filled with the easy humor of lifelong friends.

Joshua sighed dramatically, stretching his arms high above his head. “So basically, you two are making me feel left out, and I'm not liking it.”

Jeonghan smirked, nudging your foot with his. “Joshuji, you're my favourite loser, how could I do that to you—”

“Don't say that to my amazing brother,” you defended, smacking his shoulder light, earning a shared chuckle from both of them. Jeonghan raised his hand to rub the area you had hit, a pout of betrayal on his face.

"Exactly," Joshua agreed, pointing at Jeonghan. "Take that, my second favourite loser. It's a miracle we still hang out."

“Wait, who's the first favourite loser then?” Jeonghan asked, suddenly shifting the tone of air. Joshua bit his tongue, his eyes turning to look at you. But before he could confirm, you were already tackling him to the floor while Jeonghan protested only with his words.

The lighthearted conversation continued for nearly four hours—a perfect blend of shared memories, gentle ribbing, and comfortable silence. It was a demonstration of the easy, interwoven history the three of you shared.

The easy familiarity eventually gave way to heavy exhaustion. Joshua, unable to fight the warmth and the late hour, gave up first. He laid out completely on the huge, soft beanbag chair placed right at the center of the rooftop, spreading his long legs out with a groan of relief. Within minutes, his soft, steady breathing confirmed he was completely asleep, acting as the perfect, unconscious chaperone.

You were only a few minutes away from dropping dead yourself. You tried to shift on the mat, unable to find a comfortable position to truly surrender to sleep.

You looked over at Jeonghan, your eyes barely open and heavy with sleep. He was watching the steam rise from his forgotten mug of cider, looking perfectly content.

Unable to find comfort alone, you acted purely on instinct. You reached out, grabbed his arm, and snuggled close to him. You rested your head right on his shoulder, keeping your arm securely wrapped around his bicep, pulling his warmth closer.

Jeonghan froze instantly.

You felt the immediate, abnormal thump of his heart against your cheek. He didn't move a muscle, suddenly acutely aware of the deep, trusting weight of your head against him. He was thinking of all sorts of things right now: the warmth of your hair, the soft pressure of your arm, the fact that Joshua was right there.

He slowly gazed down at your face, which was relaxed and peaceful as you drifted off to sleep. For the first time since his feelings started to grow—since he diagnosed himself with “a disease called you”—he allowed himself to lean into the feeling, not run away from it. He made no movement to pull away, to categorize the contact as platonic, or to regain control.

With immense tenderness, he reached up and gently placed his other hand over the hand you had wrapped around his arm. He brought his head down to rest gently on top of yours, softly closing his eyes.

Under the silent, watchful protection of the sleeping Joshua and the soft glow of the fairy lights, Jeonghan finally surrendered. He didn't need to fix anything right now, he only needed to hold you.

——

You woke up slowly, feeling the distinct softness of a pillow under your head. You blinked, staring up at the temporary clear roof, where the fairy lights cast a diffused glow. You were wrapped in two thick blankets and perfectly situated on a plush mat.

A puzzled frown crossed your face. You didn't remember starting your nap on the mat. The last thing you remembered was practically glued to Jeonghan’s shoulder. You shrugged off the minor mystery, assuming you’d shifted in your sleep, and simply burrowed deeper into the blankets.

You looked over and saw Jeonghan already awake, sitting just a few feet away from you as he collected the mugs. His eyes crinkled with soft humor as he watched Joshua stretch.

A loud groan broke the spell. Joshua stretched out on the beanbag, announcing his return to consciousness. “My neck is going to kill me. What time is it?”

After a flurry of stretching and gathering blankets, Joshua checked his phone. “Shoot. Mom needs help with something downstairs. Duty calls, unfortunately.” He gave Jeonghan a ‘I’m sorry’ look before heading toward the exit, leaving the door slightly ajar.

——

You grabbed your coat and muffler and walked Jeonghan to his car, which was parked just outside the perimeter of the melting snow. You both stopped next to the vehicle, the air instantly cold again after the rooftop warmth. Jeonghan turned to look at you, his eyes soft and content.

“I'm cold,” he mumbled, a soft, playful pout curving his lips.

You immediately reached out to tug at the muffler around his neck, instinctively fixing the thick material. “Why? Do you need another coat? I can get one right now—”

Before you could finish, Jeonghan quickly pulled you into a hug—a warm, gentle one, wrapping his arms securely around your shoulders. You were taken aback for a second, but a smile spread across your face as you wrapped your arms tightly around his waist.

“Just say you want a hug, doc,” you chuckled, your voice muffled against his coat.

“Where's the fun in that when I can steal them,” he replied, his voice muffled as he buried his face into your shoulder that was heavy with sweater and muffler.

You two stayed embraced for a quiet while, the simple comfort of his weight sinking into the moment. You tightened your grip on his coat, finding the courage to finally speak the raw thought that had been building all afternoon.

“Please don't leave this time,” you whispered softly, your breath warm against his coat collar.

Jeonghan paused, the easy affection in his grip immediately giving way to absolute stillness as he processed your words. “Hm?” he hummed in question a few seconds later, gently pulling back a fraction to look at your face.

You took a shaky breath, tightening your grip on his coat again, afraid he might disappear if you let go. “Let's stay together this time. We're adults, Hannie. Not five or seven.” You meant the full weight of your words.

Jeonghan took a couple more seconds, absorbing the weight of the request. Then, he pulled away fully, his almond eyes soft and gentle, full of acceptance and promise.

“I won't leave,” he said firmly. “At least, not right now. So let's spend this winter together, just like we did back then.”

He lightly pecked your forehead, sealing the quiet promise in the cold winter air.

——

The winter agreement Jeonghan made in your driveway—the promise to just stay and “spend this winter together”—became the simple truth for the next three months. From late November on, the line between your personal lives got fuzzier, not because of big dates, but because you just slowly started sharing routines.

Jeonghan's intense work didn't slow down, but your apartment became the safe, quiet spot he always came back to. He started leaving little things at your place—his favorite coffee mug, an old hoodie—small, quiet signs that he belonged there now.

You both fell right back into the easy rhythm you had as kids, but now there was a constant, low buzz of adult attraction simmering underneath the surface. You shared late-night meals (always with those gourmet pretzels he insisted on), worked side-by-side in comfortable silence, and texted until the moment one of you finally crashed.

New Year's Eve was a perfect example. After a big party, you two had a quiet takeout. Jeonghan showed up after every guest left, too tired for anything but sitting on the sofa with his head on your shoulder, just grateful you were there. In those small, stolen moments, the real feelings grew—deep, tender, and way past just being friends.

You loved having that precious part of your childhood back, but now it felt stronger, more necessary. Every time he laughed at your chaos, every time he just watched you quietly, or every time he leaned into your hug, the truth became clear—He wasn't just Hannie anymore.

By late February, the pressure was huge. You weren't dating, but your lives were completely tangled up. The comfortable “winter agreement” had run its course. But what now? You had to move back to Seoul, and you're certain that Jeonghan had to aswell, but he probably couldn't tell you about it yet.

Maybe falling in love with your childhood friend wasn't the best choice. Maybe, just maybe, if it stayed the same—you as his little sister that he'd become a second brother to—everything would've been fine. But you two were in too deep to look back now.

——

FEBRUARY 18

The evening air was dry but cold, carrying the final chill of late February. The family function had long since ended, and the sudden quiet of the street felt vast after the hours of socializing. You emerged through the heavy wooden doors, already drained by the forced pleasantries and endless small talk.

You stopped dead on the top step.

Leaning against a sleek black sedan parked across the street, illuminated by the distant yellow glow of a streetlamp, was Jeonghan, scrolling away on his phone. He had clearly been waiting. He was wrapped in a long, dark coat, his hands tucked into his pockets, his posture easy and patient. The exhaustion from the day dissolved instantly, replaced by a surge of pure, delighted relief.

Your eyes widened in surprise, and a wide grin reached your eyes as you broke into a spontaneous run across the pavement. 

You didn't hesitate—you flung yourself into his arms, wrapping your arms tightly around his neck. He chuckled, the sound muffled against your shoulder, and instantly wrapped his strong arms around your waist, pulling you securely against the length of his body.

The natural, familiar force of the hug made both your hearts race—a simple, reflexive response to the sight and touch of him after a long absence. You breathed in the comforting scent of his cologne and the fresh winter air.

Finally, you pulled back slightly, planting a quick, loud kiss on his cheek before letting go of his neck.

Jeonghan's composure broke for the briefest moment. His eyes fluttered shut on the impact, and the smile on his face became something soft and uncontrolled before he quickly masked it, clearing his throat.

“You survived,” he noted, his voice smooth again. He reached out and gently smoothed your coat.

“Barely. I think I used up my entire social battery for the next three months.” You reached into your pocket and pulled out a crinkled, pocket-sized packet of chocolate buns, already tearing it open. You held a bun out to him. “Here. Restorative treatment.”

Jeonghan looked at it, then stuck his lower lip out in a small, ridiculous pout. “Oh, but I can't get my hands dirty right now,” he feigned sadness, lifting his empty hands slightly to emphasize the tragedy.

You sighed dramatically, though a chuckle escaped you instantly. You plucked a piece from the bun and held it up to his lips. “You are absurd,” you muttered, blushing fiercely at the absurdity of feeding the renowned Dr. Yoon Jeonghan on a public street although it was quite empty at this hour.

The moment he bit down, his soft lips briefly grazed your skin. He pulled back just enough to let his tongue trace the sweet smudge of chocolate on the corner of his lips, his eyes never leaving yours.

You spent the next few minutes finishing the snack as you walked toward his car, ranting about everything that had happened—the awful canapés, the confusing distant relatives, the boring speeches. Jeonghan listened patiently, his hand almost holding yours as you walked. His eyes held affection, amusement and something you couldn't quite pinpoint. But he was fighting the urge to lean down and simply kiss you right there.

He approached the passenger door and reached for the handle. Then, just as the moment was about to normalize, a powerful, unexpected twist hit him—an undeniable urge to seize the moment.

Jeonghan paused. He gently and suddenly grabbed your wrist, halting your movement.

You looked up, surprised by the abrupt shift. His easy playfulness was gone, replaced by a sweet, fragile sincerity. His eyes were wide, tender, and searching, and you could practically hear the abnormal, frantic thumping of his own heart in the sudden silence. You instantly felt nervous, your heart beginning to race in response.

He looked down at your hand, then back up to your eyes, his voice soft, barely audible above the quiet street sounds. “Can you let me do an experiment on your heart?”

“Hannie, what?” you joked, the nervousness palpable in your voice. “You're not going to rip my heart open, are you?” You knew, deep down, he meant something different. Something you probably weren't expecting tonight.

He shook his head slowly, his expression still locked in that tender, intense way. He took two steps closer, closing the distance until you were only inches apart. “No, but I... Just tell me. Will you allow me to do that? Allow me to test your heart?”

You were speechless, just staring at him, waiting for him to do anything to stop your heart from beating so ridiculously fast.

His hands came to rest softly on your back, a deliberate action, as if he was testing to see if you would move away—giving you full, final authority to reject him. He then leaned closer, his eyes never leaving your lips. He tilted his head slightly as he did, moving with agonizing slowness, giving you all the time in the world to pull back.

But you didn't.

He knew he couldn't back away now. This was what you both wanted.

He pulled you gently against him and kissed your lips—a quick, soft press, as if testing the waters, hesitant and almost scared to fully touch your soft lips with his. He pulled back, his breath coming short, and locked eyes with you.

You stared at him speechless for a few lingering seconds before you let out a little squeak, covering your face with your hands at the speed of light, the chocolate bun wrapper finally falling from your nerveless fingers.

Jeonghan laughed heartily, a deep, chest-shaking sound that made your heart hammer faster.

“This is so embarrassing, I didn't even apply lip balm properly today!” you mumbled into your hands, whining and wanting to disappear.

He stooped, picked up the wrapper, and tossed it in the nearby garbage can before reaching over to cup your cheek with one hand. “Your lips are soft enough, love,” he said, his voice laced with amusement and deep affection.

You instantly dropped your hands, your face flushed scarlet. “...What did you call me?”

He paused for a moment before looking around with a playful smile. “I don't know, what was it?” He looked back at you, his gaze teasing and you wanted to smack him across the face right there and then. “I'd remember if I had someone’s lips on mine right now.”

Despite being as red as a tomato, you hesitantly reached out. Jeonghan gazed at you with the same fondness, patiently waiting without any interruption. Then you did it. You kissed him—a long, lingering, and loving peck this time.

​His heart melted completely. He desperately wanted to sink to his knees, but he forced himself to maintain his composure—for the sake of both your sanity.

He chuckled softly when you pulled away. “You're a good kisser, love,” he said before leaning over and tilting his head. “Did you perhaps train with someone in those twenty-three years I was absent?”

You burst out into a shy laugh, shaking your head. “No, Hannie, you're my first kiss.”

Jeonghan's eyes instantly filled with such profound pleasure and love. He locked his arms securely around your waist, pulling you close, his forehead resting against yours.

And the way life was unkind enough to keep the devil himself as your neighbour and your department team leader at the same time always ruins your perfectly fine day.

Whether or not it was work hours, he was always around the corner, just waiting for the opportunity to test your patience.

Waking up in the morning and having an absolute normal day with no stress only lasted until you reached your company building. Or worse, only until you stepped out of your apartment. Because the moment Jeonghan came into sight, you knew you were not having a peaceful day.

He has the audacity to smile at you so sweetly after he manages to say the most nerve-wracking thing ever. It makes your stomach do this weird twirl that you can't explain.

You hate him and he hates you. Well, that should be obvious by now.

In your list of all the ways your team leader has made you frustrated, your brain ticks off another point.

Following your every move with an intense gaze.

Something that's making you want to scream at the top of your lungs right now is the way Jeonghan's eyes are following your every move while you are presenting your idea in front of your team. Almost as if judging you for every little mistake you might make.

It was a team meeting that was supposed to happen last Friday, but got delayed because of the poor weather, so it was taking place today. You had told everyone about an extremely helpful idea you came up with that might be a good plan for the company's sales to rise.

You had activated every single one of your professional bones before the meeting had started. Because you knew, in one way or another, your team leader would be bothering you.

But you never thought that it would be this way.

“And it would be a big advantage for our company, assisting the finance team as well.” You explain, turning around to face your team for a brief second, catching Jeonghan's focused gaze on you before shifting your attention to the projector again.

Why is he looking at you?

“Sorry to interrupt,” you hear the familiar voice that always drives you insane. In a good or bad way. You pause for a moment, gathering the courage to look him in the eye and then turn your head to shift your attention to him.

He sat on the extreme corner of the long table, arms folded as he leaned on his chair. Everyone present in the room turned their attention to him, holding in their breath as they could feel the tension crashing between you two.

The way his dark black hair fell on his face, his expression professional and concentrated as he read the file laying on the table in front of him—made him look so fine.

No matter how much you despised his guts, you could never deny the fact that he was one of the most charming and attractive men you have ever laid your eyes on. Maybe even the most. But you wouldn't admit that.

Your eyes stayed fixed on him, but they were quick to flicker to the person sitting beside him—Joshua—when he lifted his gaze again to look at you. Even when your eyes were on Joshua, you could see from the very corner of your eye that Jeonghan’s lips curved into the slightest bit of a smirk before he started to scan the file again.

Oh no.

You knew his next words would be basically telling you to lose your temper.

“What was in section four?” He asked, pressing his pointer finger on a specific part of the file he was reading, then turned to you for an answer.

“Our team’s contribution to the latest product launch.” Joshua responded, eyes darting between you and Jeonghan. Your eyes shift to Joshua then again at the man sitting at the centre, noticing the way his eyes narrow at him when he answers his question instead.

“I was asking her.” Jeonghan deadpanned, but the man next to him just shrugged it off like dust on his clothes.

“Same thing.”

Even during a meeting, the years of friendship they treasured was always palpable, earning a few giggles from your coworkers.

Jeonghan briefly glanced at you as the coworkers giggled among themselves at their antics, checking if you were finding this amusing as well. But your mind was too busy trying to come up with the worst sentence Yoon Jeonghan can possibly say to make your blood boil.

It was a known fact—except for Hong Joshua, his bestfriend from highschool (and you, his long-time rival), nobody really dared to mess with a serious Jeonghan even though he was a pretty liked and sociable guy.

Probably because of the demeanor that he carries while working is a complete contrast to that of when he is off work. But you disagree with that to a certain extent. Whether on work mode or not, he still finds every possible way to get on your nerves.

You watch as Jeonghan huffs, his cheeks puffing out in the process. ‘cute’ you think, but quickly slap that thought away.

“Well,” he clears his throat, sending a side eye in the direction of where his bestfriend sat, then sets his eyes on you. His eyes narrowed ever so slightly, and a hint of amusement he always carried when looking at you returned. You gulp down the lump in your throat, gripping on the pen in your hands a little more tightly as you maintain eye contact with him with the same narrowed eyes, but yours really didn't carry the amusement like he did. It carried agitation that Jeonghan caught immediately.

He was intentionally taking a lot longer than usual to complete his sentence, and it was frustrating.

“I need you to repeat it again. From the beginning.”

What the fuck. You were currently on the 9th section, and he wants you to go four sections back just to explain it all over again?

Your lips parted as you gawked at the man who stared back with an annoying grin. The room filled with gasps and concerned looks shared between your coworkers, including Joshua.

Joshua shot a look of disbelief in Jeonghan's direction, stepping on his foot to grab his attention. Jeonghan yelped and jumped, but managed to maintain his composure.

At this point, your mind absolutely went blank due to the rage building up in you. Jeonghan made no attempts to break the eye contact that was growing intense by each passing second, and neither were you going to back out. His eyes didn't only carry amusement, but now it looked like he was challenging you.

Your right eye twitched. This was it. You were not letting him win.

“Mr. Yoon, isn't that too mu—”

“I'll do it.” You cut your colleague, Chan, off. And in an instant, everyone's head snapped towards you as their jaws dropped in sync.

With an eye roll, you finally look away from Jeonghan and turn back to the projector behind you, tapping on the button aggressively as if you are letting out your anger on it to switch the slides back to section 4.

You could still feel his eyes on you, and you also knew that if you turned around right now, you would be met with an annoying smirk plastered across his face. Taking a deep breath, you look down at the presentation file you had prepared while pulling an all-nighter and flip the page backwards atleast twenty times before you finally reach section 4 again.

Your blood was boiling. You wanted to yell at your team leader. You wanted to let him know that he was annoying. But you somehow calmed yourself down and managed to stay professional.

“Okay, section four.” You began, jotting down all the basic important points on the small whiteboard beside the projector that needed to be revised.

“In detail, please.” A voice interrupted. You didn't have to turn around to know it was the same annoying menace.

“Alright.” You bite back without turning around, your tone firm.

Meanwhile, Joshua let out a deep sigh, purposely making himself heard by Jeonghan so he could be aware of the fact that he was stretching this out too much.

“Why are you acting like that?” Jeonghan leaned to his side, arms folded as he asked in a quiet whisper; careful not to disturb your explanation.

“Ask yourself, buddy, I don't know.” Joshua sighed again, his eyes fixated on the projector across the room.

“에이… aren't you caring too much?” He leans away, returning his gaze on you. “Don't get too attached. Stay professional.”

Joshua let out a quiet laugh, reaching up to cover his mouth with the side of his fist. He glanced at Jeonghan, observing his expression before teasing, “Shouldn't I be the one saying that?”

Jeonghan rolled his eyes ever so slightly, scoffing as he unfolded his arms and leaned forward, resting his elbow on the table. He placed his chin on his palm, giving Joshua a glance from the corner of his eyes.

“I am very professional, thanks.”

“That is. I was talking about the ‘attachment’ part.” Joshua quipped, mirroring his best friend's actions.

“...shush and focus.” Jeonghan nodded towards your direction as you stayed focused on explaining. With a snicker, Joshua flipped back twenty pages of Jeonghan's copy of the presentation file and nudged his arm with his elbow.

“Focus on this too.” He ribbed, trying his best to hold in his laugh at the sight of an incredibly provoked Jeonghan.

Well, to some extent, Joshua was the only one who could annoy Jeonghan just like how Jeonghan annoyed you. So it was fair to say that he made it up for you, even without knowing it.

After the meeting had finally ended, leaving you with a headache, you had gotten up from your seat to leave. When you thought your morning couldn't get worse, Jeonghan walked up behind you, muttering “good work” before leaving the room like nothing happened.

Your eye twitched again.

Unfortunately, your mind was recalling the scene from earlier throughout the whole day. Your face scowled each and every time it did, leaving your coworkers a bit concerned, but they decided to not budge onto it.

It was like a challenge to focus on work especially when constant thoughts about that jerk occupied your mind every now and then. You finally got up from your seat after hours of face-palming and sighing because of the amount of mistakes you had made in the file you were preparing, deciding that a cup of coffee would really help to relax your racing mind right now.

So, with that thought in your mind, you headed to the kitchenette of your department and grabbed your coffee cup, pressing the ‘pour’ button on the coffee machine.

There were thousands of other things to worry about at this moment—whether or not the idea that you gave this morning to your team would be chosen by the C-suite. And if it does, how you were going to present your ideas. There was another thing to worry about—your blind date that was scheduled this Sunday. But instead, your mind was busy with the thoughts of the gremlin, Yoon Jeonghan.

“Is that cup not big enough for you?” A voice pulled you out of your daydreams. But before you could worry about it being Jeonghan, your eyes widened at the sight of the coffee ridiculously overflowing from your cup. With a loud gasp, you hastily reach out to switch the pour button off, watching the perfectly clean table covered in a flood of coffee.

“You could use mine.” The man beside you (at whom you hadn't looked yet) offered in a playful taunting voice, placing his cup on the table before sliding it toward you.

Your eyes followed his hands as he brought it closer to rest his chin on it and leaned forward, eyeing you with an amused look and an annoying smile. As soon as your eyes landed on him, your nose scrunched ever so slightly before you rolled your eyes and basically ignored his presence. It didn't affect him, but only made his smile grow wider.

“No thanks.” You respond bluntly, sliding the cup back, earning a snicker from him. He slightly scooted closer, his eyes never leaving you as you held your cup and winced at the way the coffee was dripping from every direction possible.

“Rude.” He fake pouted.

From the corner of your eye, you noticed the handkerchief he was holding in his hands. You have to seize this opportunity to make his day just as worse as he made yours.

Without a warning, you snatched the handkerchief from his hands, making him startled. “Maybe you could stop being a pain in the ass,” you retorted, using his precious handkerchief to wipe the table and your cup clean as he stood there with his jaw dropped to the floor.

“I—”

“And go do some actual work.” Turning to face him with an uninterested look, you shove the soaked handkerchief back in his hands. The way his hands were frozen mid-air, exactly where it was two minutes ago when you snatched the handkerchief, was enough to let you know that he was indeed shocked.

Without another glance, you turned around and started to walk away, leaving a stunned Jeonghan behind. You giggled to yourself, imagining the look on his face.

Meanwhile, Jeonghan’s gaze dropped to the handkerchief in his hands as a scoff of disbelief escaped his lips. But he wasn't going to admit defeat.

Instead of crying over a literal handkerchief, he placed down his cup of coffee on the table and threw the handkerchief in it before following behind you, fastening his pace to catch up.

“I didn't know you were so annoying.”

His words reached your ears, and you closed your eyes tightly, holding in a scream that would really release all the frustration building up in you because of the man following behind you.

“Following someone like a creep isn't a very “professional” thing to do, y’know.” You snarked.

“Well, I'm not a creep, so, no, it's not creepy. It's romantic—”

“Who told you that? You, yourself?” You turned around, causing him to halt on his steps.

He smirked, already sensing that you were getting provoked by his teasing.

“Almost every lady in this department.” He answers in a smooth tone, bringing his hands behind his back. Your eyes narrow at him as you think of your next words.

“The world doesn't revolve around you.” You gibed, not bothering to take a step back when he takes a step forward. Too close for comfort.

“But your thoughts do, sweetheart.” He says. Too confidently. As if it's a matter of fact. You hate to admit, but those words did poke your heart a little.

The unprovoked facade you had put on falters for a moment. Gulping down the lump in your throat, you break eye contact before turning away from him. You square your shoulders and clear your throat. The fact that he was somehow correct about that, made you want to forget everything and snap at him for being able to ‘see through you.’

“If you're done wasting my time, I have work to do.” You say, taking a step forward to walk away, but your stomach does this weird twirl when Jeonghan grabs your wrist to prevent you from doing so.

“What work?” He asks, and you're so sure he is doing all this just to get a reaction from you—which, you wasn't about to get.

“Can you stop—”

“I'm just asking.” You notice the way his tone is a bit serious now, a complete contrast to that of just a few minutes ago.

Letting out a deep sigh, you turn your head just slightly, enough for him to know you were answering without seeming too disrespectful. Because, as much as you hate this fact, he was your senior and it was one of your basic manners to respect someone.

“The work Mr. Lee assigned me and Seungkwan a few days ago.” You respond, expecting him to let go of your wrist after that. But instead, he craned his neck to look at your face with the same annoying grin.

You thought he was asking seriously.

“아니, (no)” he denies, causing you to turn around to face him with a confused expression. “You have work there,” he nods in a specific direction, and as you follow his gaze, your eyebrows furrow.

Jeonghan sneaked a glance at you, scanning your face while holding in a laugh at the sight of your dumbfounded expression. He was referring to his office room that was all see through due to the clear glass walls. You squint your eyes and try to search for the possible ‘work' he meant, but he decided to help you himself.

“Those papers on my desk,” he points. “I need you to review them.”

“What!?”

Jeonghan snickers, raising an eyebrow when he realised he was about to get the reaction he wanted from you. You clenched your fists, your nose scrunching just a little.

Those papers he wanted you to review were a month old, and probably had been reviewed at least five times now.

“Yoon jeonghan!”

“Mr. Yoon.” Jeonghan corrected, leaning over with a stupid boyish grin.

He leaned back and mimicked your glare, furrowing his eyebrows and pressing his lips into a thin line that made his lips appear like he was faintly smiling. A smile you're unable to describe, yet you can call it an ‘upside-down smile.’

Before Jeonghan could say something to add fuel to the fire, you pushed your coffee cup against his stomach, forcing him to hold it for you before you turned away without another glance and stormed off to his office. He won't deny—he was taken aback with the sudden burst of aggression but he shrugged it off with a chuckle.

Out of everything Jeonghan can possibly do to cure his boredom, he chooses to be an impossibly annoying being. But that's only with you. As if it's a special thing.

──────୨୧ 11:00PM

After the office hours had ended, Jeonghan was nowhere to be seen when you left the company building. That meant you could finally take a breath of relief without the stress of your team leader roaming around you.

You knew you needed to freshen up your mind after the rollercoaster of emotions you experienced today. So you decided to visit the traditional restaurant just a few blocks away from your apartment and sat down to order your favourite bowl of noodles that you also call your ‘comfort food’. But when you received a call from your female colleague inviting you over for late night snacks, how could you refuse?

That's why; by the time you stepped in your apartment building, it was already past 11PM. Although your colleague had suggested you stay over since it was late, you figured that you don't want to be a bother. Plus, you'd rather be in the comfort of your apartment instead.

The elevator came to a halt, the doors sliding open smoothly. You stepped out of the elevator, letting out a sigh of exhaustion before beginning to walk ahead. It was already past Jeonghan's bedtime, so you didn't expect to see him waiting for you in the hallway like he always does when you're late by an hour or two.

As you entered the hallway, your eyes instinctively landed on the door which had the number plate ‘09’ on the wall beside it. Or more specifically, the door that led into Jeonghan's apartment.

You scrunch your nose when you realise you had been ridiculously staring in that direction for too long, and begin to walk towards your apartment room that was just after Jeonghan's, but parallel to him.

For a moment, when you’re almost about to pass by his room, you feel like the door would open and reveal Jeonghan whose eyebrows will be furrowed in concern for you. You chuckle at the thought. Because there was no way he would still be awake by now—

“You're late.” Suddenly, the room door you had been gawking at swung open, and a groggy but firm voice called out. You flinch a little, gripping the strap of your bag that hung from your shoulder as you snapped your head in that direction—only to find Jeonghan in his pyjamas, hair slightly messed up as he glared at you with eyes that could barely open from drowsiness and a pout that looked very genuine.

“I— what?”

“Do you know what time it is right now?” He said, with the same tone and same expression as the first time.

Your hand reached up to cover your mouth as you let out a quiet laugh at his appearance. “Did you jump out of bed at the sound of the elevator?”

Jeonghan doesn't respond for a moment, his eyebrows only furrowing further. “Answer my question first.”

“Go back to bed, gremlin.” You double down, unable to hold in the smile that brightened your features. With that, you turn away to walk to your doorstep and your fingers hover over the keypad lock.

“You got a new 남자친구 (boyfriend) or something?” Jeonghan called out, the permanent playful tone in his voice coming back to life. You gradually turned to look in his direction, your nose scrunching up as you watched him snickering while leaning his front body on the door frame.

“아니 (no), but I got another reason why I shouldn't be nice to you.” You scoff, but that menace kept snickering with an annoying smirk.

One thought that crossed your mind when you glanced at him—he looked so fine. Even though he jumped out of this bed in a hurry, and could barely open his eyes due to sleepiness, his face card still never declined.

“So you don't have one?” He tilted his head, asking with a grin.

You ignored him and his question, pushing your door open before stepping inside and shutting it close. But your lips immediately curved into a smile when you heard him yell “잘자! (goodnight!)” even though it sounded a little muffled.

Alright, Yoon Jeonghan was and is a menace. However, you can't help but always recall the way your eyes were starstruck when you first saw him. When he was just the man next door, the kind neighbour you had encountered who was willing to help you with every little thing ever.

──────୨୧ 6 MONTHS AGO

You thought that shifting from your previous apartment to a different and better one would be really convenient when you landed your dream job—since the new apartment was much closer to your company building as well.

But now, as you tighten your grip around the stick of the broom, sitting on the couch and holding your knees close to your chest, your eyes scanning the living room frantically—you doubt that.

There wasn't a single corner of the room that your eyes hadn't landed on. You swear you saw that menace of a cockroach just a few minutes ago by the curtain of the window, and you’ve been holding your breath in since then.

It's not like you were afraid of literal cockroaches! No way. The only thing that you were afraid of was the fact that it could fucking fly. Hell, it even dared to fly and sit down on your thigh when you weren't looking.

Suddenly, the cockroach appeared from nowhere and flew straight towards your face, and you let out the most terrifying scream ever. You didn't give a damn if there were people next door, probably judging you for being a coward, but the creature is so disgusting that you can't do anything but this.

Just when you were fighting for your life, swinging the broom in your hands aggressively in the air to try and hit the cockroach, someone rang the doorbell and you went quiet.

“저기요, 괜찮아요? (excuse me, are you okay?)” An unfamiliar voice called out from the other side of the front door. Letting out a shaky breath, you look around the living room, the cockroach nowhere to be seen.

“네 (yes), sorry for disturbance.” You respond, loud enough for the man to hear. The silence that followed after was deafening, causing you to finally come back to your senses.

Fuck. Did you scream too loud?

“I doubt that, are you sure you don't need help?” The stranger asks again, and you fall silent, actually considering his offer. Well, this cockroach will definitely not let you sleep tonight, you were too exhausted to fight it, and the stranger genuinely seemed to want to help.

Taking a deep breath, you put the broom away and slowly bring your right foot to the floor then the left one to stand up. You look down to check your fit, reaching out to fix your hair with your hands. Finally, you clear your throat and head towards the front door, pulling it open slightly just enough for you to peek out.

In front of you stood a man in a formal white shirt and black trousers, the sleeves rolled up till his elbows and the tie around his neck seemed to be pulled down. His short hair was dark brown, shining under the lights of the hallway and he held a black suit.

And oh my god. He was majestic. His facial features were soft, eyes coloured in a cozy shade of brown. He seemed to have just arrived from work and decided to check up on his crazy neighbour who was screaming at the top of her lungs.

Before the embarrassment could drown you further, the stranger offered a soft smile. You noticed the way it made him appear so angelic.

“Hi,” you say awkwardly, mentally cursing yourself.

“Hello,” but he responded so gently, doing a great job at making your cheeks heat up.

“I'm sorry to be a bother, but it’d be a great help if you could— uh..” you force a smile, trying to think of how you can possibly tell a stranger that you are afraid of flying cockroaches at the age of an adult who should be more than capable of handling them.

“I could?” He repeated, patiently waiting for you to continue. And you figured that it would be better if you showed it to him instead.

“이야! (iya!)” The man infront of you placed the glass bowl on the floor with a loud thud, a smile creeping up to his face.

You jumped, crawling from the other side of the couch to peek over the armrest. He slowly removed his hands from the bowl, revealing the cockroach who was now trapped inside it.

“Woah…” you breathe out, turning to look at the man who was kneeling down with one of his arms resting on his knee. “That was fast.”

“That was easy.” The man replied, shooting a smile in your direction. He had just entered your apartment two minutes ago after you decided to show him the problem instead of using your words so you don't sound stupid, and he already spotted and trapped the cockroach.

It takes skills.

You watched as he slowly got up from the floor, patting the dust on his clothes. “So, you're new here?” He asked, glancing at you.

“응 (yeah).” You nodded, straightening your posture before getting up from the couch.

“그렇구나 (I see), I live just next door.”

“room number 09?”

Jeonghan nodded, grabbing his suit from the table. He swiftly wore it, tugging on the ends to ease the crumps.

You don't realise as your eyes stay fixated on him, admiring his charismatic and loveable self, until he forwarded a hand as he introduced. “I'm Jeonghan. Yoon Jeonghan.”

Yoon Jeonghan. A name just as pretty as the person himself.

Giving a little nod and smile of acknowledgement, you reach out to shake his hand for a brief second. “Y/n.”

Although you looked like you were in the conversation, your mind could only process the way his hands were so soft and warm, fitting perfectly against yours. As if it was meant to be held by you.

“Y/n. That's a pretty name.” Jeonghan remarks, a soft smirk playing on his lips as he leaned in, mindful to maintain a respectful distance. That action alone made your cheeks heat up as they dusted a light shade of pink.

“Thank you. Yours is prettier, though.” Your words slipped before you could comprehend them, but his lips curved into the same soft smile again as he let out a small laugh.

“It's getting late, I should head back.” He says, and you glance at the clock before nodding.

“Right. Thank you for this,” you pointed towards the glass bowl that had the cockroach trapped inside it. When you did so, Jeonghan paused as if he remembered something suddenly.

“Ah, what are you going to do with that?” He asks, gesturing to the cockroach. You smile, waving your hand.

“Don't worry about it, I'll throw it out. I'm not scared of it once it's trapped.”

He softly laughed again, nodding his head before heading over to the front door to leave. As he steps outside, you call out for him.

“I’m really sorry for bothering you, I probably look like an idiot right now.” You say sheepishly, but he simply shrugs it off.

“There's nothing to be sorry about. Plus, I think it's good to be helpful as neighbours.” He assures, offering you a small smile that didn't reach his eyes, but still carried genuineness and warmth. For a moment, you catch the slightest bit of drowsiness in his body language, and let out a sigh, genuinely feeling bad for wasting his time.

You nod, mirroring his smile. “맞아요 (you're right), I'll definitely make it up to you for today.”

His smile brightens ever so slightly and he bids you a final goodbye before walking away to his apartment room.

From that day onwards, you never had a day where you wouldn't encounter Jeonghan. Mostly because he was the one to approach you whenever he would see you.

You had shifted in your apartment one month before the first day of your work intentionally so you could get familiar with the place. But now, with Jeonghan, it became so much easier to know about everything. From local shops to fancy restaurants and supermarkets, you got familiar with everything in less than 2 weeks. And Jeonghan was the most perfect neighbour you could ever ask for. Even without asking, he was always ready to help you with things.

Especially when you ordered this huge cupboard that you could barely lift up, let alone fix it in your living room. But as soon as Jeonghan caught you struggling with that, he took the full responsibility of it, only asking for a bowl of the dumplings you had made earlier in return because he was craving some. Something you also liked about him was his playful nature. He had the type of personality that could light up any room with his back-to-back jokes and teasing. You liked the way his jokes and teasing were never overboard, and it wasn't too constant to the point it would become a headache.

You thought he was the most ideal man ever.

Keyword: “thought” “was”

Finally after a whole month of eagerly waiting, it was your first day of work at your dream company. Finally.

You could barely contain your excitement as you quickly got ready and headed out of your apartment room. Just as you step outside, you spot Jeonghan outside his apartment, fixing his shoes. He seemed to be leaving his apartment for work at the same time too.

“Jeonghan?” You called out, catching his attention as he looked up from his shoes. His face immediately brightened with a smile before he locked his door and waited for you to walk forward.

“It's your first day of work?” He asked as you walked up to him and both of you began to head towards the elevator. You nod, flashing a smile towards his direction.

“음 (hm)! I'm really excited.” You chirp softly, making him chuckle.

“You’ll do great, fighting!” He exclaimed, waving his fist in the air to emphasize.

You muttered a ‘thanks’ as the elevator door opened and you both walked inside. Jeonghan pressed the button all the way to the ground floor, and stepped back before shoving his hands in his pockets as both of you waited for the elevator to halt. You and him shared a few jokes and conversations, finally heading out of the apartment building. The spring air was fresh yet a bit cold. Good thing you had decided to wear proper warm clothes to face this weather.

Bidding goodbyes with Jeonghan, you walked to your car as he headed towards his. You opened the driver's seat door and sat down inside, shutting the door close before starting the engine. Just as you pull your car out, your eyes catch Jeonghan’s car already exiting the parking lot. You simply started to head towards your company location, but after a while, you realised that Jeonghan was heading in the same direction as you.

You shrugged it off, thinking that his workplace might just be near yours. Soon, you finally arrived infront of the company building. The building was situated in a really gorgeous area—surrounded by a beautiful landscape that was adorned with greenery. Despite being in the middle of a bustling city, it had a huge front lawn of its own with a parking lot equally large, completely dividing it from the noisy roadsides.

Stepping out of your car, you were just admiring the building that stood so tall, when you noticed a car that looked too much like Jeonghan’s pull up in the parking lot aswell. You weren't quite sure about it, so you brushed your thoughts away and headed straight inside, loving the way the front entrance was a revolving door. You walked up to the reception, patiently waiting as the lady talked with other employees.

Suddenly, you hear a group of female employees squeal and let out excited giggles. You turned your head in the direction of the sound, tilting your head in confusion before you followed their gaze and looked at the entrance. Instead of clearing up your confusion, the sight in front of you jumbled your brain even more.

The group of employees were squealing over Jeonghan as he walked past the entrance, radiating a charming and attractive energy, offering a smile to every employee who walked past him.

Yes, he did look handsome and everything. But the real question was—what was he doing here? And how do these people know him? The way he walked in, so comfortably as if he is familiar with every single corner of this building, confuses you even more. You were just about to approach him—

“Are you Ms. Y/n?” A voice snaps you out of your thoughts. You turn around, greeting the lady in the reception with a smile before nodding in response to her question.

The lady smiles back warmly, rummaging through some papers. She takes one of the papers that seemed to have information about you, scanning it.

“You’re the new shift from Busan branch, correct?”

“Yes, it's me.”

The lady opens her mouth to say something, but she pauses as she looks over your shoulder. “Ah, this is perfect actually,” she says. “That is Mr. Yoon, the captain of the marketing team!” She adds, gesturing to a specific man that stood by the lounge area, talking to someone.

You followed her gaze, eyes landing on a man whose back was facing you, but his attire looked exactly like Jeonghan's. The thought that it could be Jeonghan didn't even cross your mind at all. Without being able to see the man’s face, you nod along with the lady’s words as she calls out to someone and asks them to bring ‘Mr. Yoon’ here.

You were in the marketing team, so it was great that you already encountered the team leader. That is, until the man turned around when a person approached him.

Your jaw dropped to the floor, and your eyes went wide.

It was Jeonghan. Yoon Jeonghan. Your neighbour.

Actually, you were dumb enough to have not guessed it sooner.

“That is… our leader?” You ask, hesitantly.

“He is! He's very charming and friendly. I'm sure you'll get along with him.” The lady replied.

You kept gawking at Jeonghan. He nodded to the person, saying something that you figured out to be “알았어요 (I got it)” before he looked up, his eyes immediately locking with yours. And just like yours, they went wide in surprise.

Without wasting another second, he walked over to the reception. Or more like to you.

“Y/n? What are you doing here?” He asks, genuinely confused, eyebrows raised.

Before you could answer, the lady spoke. “You guys know each other?”

Jeonghan turned to look at her, nodding in response. He let out a soft gasp, eyes softening in realisation.

“와 (woah), so you're the new shift from Busan branch?”

You nod subtly, smiling, despite being a bit taken aback yourself.

That was the first day of your work, and also the greatest coincidence that had ever happened. Jeonghan was just as kind and playful with others as he was with you. Upon being the new shift in the marketing department, you soon became really popular. Even employees from other departments were always greeting you, smiling at you or some even approached you to be friends. And as friendly you are, you welcomed each and everyone without even thinking twice.

Three of them were Seungkwan, Chan and Joshua. You learned that Joshua was Jeonghan’s bestfriend, and they were pretty much like frenemies. But aside from them, you also befriended female colleagues. They were all so beautiful.

It didn't take long for you to start receiving love letters and gifts. There would be atleast three of them whenever you came by your cubicle in the morning, and honestly, they were pretty cute. You didn't think much about it because other than harmless gifts and cute letters, nobody approached you in person that could make you uncomfortable.

It wasn't a problem for you.

But it was for Jeonghan.

He hated the way you gave attention to everyone but him. Whether or not it was just his overthinking capabilities, he knew who liked you and the way you became so friendly with the same people boiled his blood. No, he wasn't possessive or anything, but he could see whenever they tried to overly flirt with you. And as oblivious as you are, you never realised and laughed along.

Jeonghan was well aware of his feelings—he liked you. Alot.

And why on earth would he sit there and watch you basically drift away from him and he wouldn't even have the chance to be yours?

He started nagging you about how you need to distance yourself from these things because they can be ‘distracting’ and would be a problem in the long run. But soon, this nagging turned into annoying teasing. He would do everything in his power to annoy you, even reaching to the point where he would throw all the unnecessary work on you to do.

A part of him was still nice, but that was just barely half of his behaviour towards you. Whenever he would see you, he would start being a pain in the ass and refuse to shut up with his nonsense.

Soon, you've come to realise that Jeonghan was mean to this extent only with you. And soon you started to despise his guts, his ability to leave you speechless and his ability to make you flustered under a minute. He carried a hint of mischief in his eyes whenever he saw you, and the little smirk that crawled up his lips every time.

But, you wouldn't lie—he was still caring sometimes. You started to become a bit upset when he would take a day off from work, when he would be focusing on something else even though you were right there, or basically when he's not being playful like he usually is. But it was far away from your realisation. You never realised that you felt like that. And even now, as of the present, you still fail to realise your own feelings.

Even if Jeonghan is an evil gremlin, you have a soft spot for him and you, yourself, aren't aware of that.

──────୨୧ PRESENT (TUESDAY)

Next morning, you don't even realise that you had been snoozing the alarm for twenty minutes straight, refusing to wake up. But when the alarm rang again, you jumped up from your bed, gasping when you saw the time.

7:29AM.

Your office hours started by 8.

Ignoring the exhaustion and the painful pounding in your head, you searched your entire closet for a suitable outfit and rushed your morning routine. You definitely didn't have the time to cook breakfast, so you decided that you'd stop by your favourite store near the company building and grab a bun or two.

Finally stepping out of your apartment, you took the stairs instead of waiting for the elevator and took out your car key—only to see that your car was nowhere to be found in the parking lot. You paused, holding in the urge to let out a scream when you remembered your friend borrowed your car just yesterday.

What a way to start your day.

By the time you left your apartment, Jeonghan was already off to work so you were glad that you didn't have to deal with him in the morning. Especially because you weren't in the mood for his teasing right now, and if he was here, you would've probably lashed out. Which you would regret later.

Glancing at the watch that adorned your wrist, you winced when it displayed ‘7:50AM.’

You fastened your pace, and then began to run in a hurry. You were so sure that that menace would start nagging at you for being a ‘sleepyhead’. After what felt like ages of running and bumping into random strangers on the street, you finally reached the store, the company building just a few blocks away.

“저기요 (excuse me), two cream buns please.” You say as you hastily take out your wallet to pay. Just then, you turn your head to see Seungkwan and Chan huffing as they come running to you in a hurry.

“Y/n!!” They yell in unison, and your life flashed before your eyes as Seungkwan almost lost his balance, about to crash straight onto you. But Chan grabbed his shirt just on time, pulling him back and they came to a halt, panting heavily as if they had been chasing a thief.

“Chan? Kwan? What are you two doing here?” You asked, looking at them up and down in concern. “Isn't it almost time for work?”

Both of them put a hand over their chest, trying to catch up with their breathing before they could actually respond.

“I—”

“지금은 아니야 (not right now), we have only two minutes to reach our office! 빨리 가자 (Let's go fast)!” Just when Seungkwan opened his mouth to answer your question, Chan interrupted and let go of Seungkwan's shirt.

Before you could say something, Seungkwan nodded aggressively, grabbed your wrist along with Chan’s and began to sprint towards the company building at the distance.

“Hey! Slow down!” You shouted at him as he kept running. Luckily, you had already paid the shopkeeper and grabbed the two buns in your hand just before this menace decided that it would be a good idea to make a run for it.

“Just come along!” Chan urged as he pulled himself out of Seungkwan's grip and ran forward. You too, shrugged off his hand and ran on your own.

“Why did you buy two cream buns?” Seungkwan asked, almost shouting. Although his voice was barely audible because of the pace you three were running at, you still managed to catch it.

“To eat.” You reply, shouting-back.

“Or to share it with your 애인 (lover)!” Chan added with a sly smile.

“I don't even have one?” You say.

“Oh c’mon, we both know you have a teeny tiny crush on him.” Seungkwan doubled down, fastening his pace to catch up with Chan at the front. You frown at both of them, slowing down to catch up with your breathing as they giggled among themselves.

“I don't like Jeonghan!” You exclaim, eyes widened and your lips pursed. Both of them halted, and turned around to look at you with the silliest grin ever.

“We never mentioned him?” Chan teased, wiggling his eyebrows while Seungkwan leaned against his shoulder, laughing his heart out.

“I—” you pause, feeling your cheeks burning up.

“Just give up at this point, oh my go—” Seungkwan made his way to you, giggling, and wrapped an arm around your shoulder that you shrugged away.

“Shut up,” you mutter embarrassingly, squaring your shoulders before beginning to walk away. You picked up your pace, outrunning them to the company building.

“That's cheating!” Seungkwan yelled, chasing after you.

“Stop, or you like Jeonghan!” Chan added, but you weren't going to listen to them for another second. You were already ten minutes late to work.

You've just come to accept that these two were nothing but a headache. Just like Jeonghan.

You sneaked in your cubicle, saving yourself from Jeonghan and his nagging. As soon as you took a seat, Seungkwan and Chan also stepped out of the elevator, tiptoeing their way to the cubicle.

“You're so mean!” Chan hissed, making his way to his cubicle just beside yours. You simply shrugged it off with a smile, and watched as Seungkwan plopped down on his seat, parallel to you, with the most dramatic sigh ever.

“You didn't slow down either, that means you do like Jeonghan!” Seungkwan whispered, your nose scrunching up in annoyance.

“Shut it and do your own work.” You huffed, reaching out to take a look at the papers you had left yesterday. You paused as you saw that there was a new stack of files with a little sticky note on the file cover. Furrowing your eyebrows in confusion, you remove the sticky note and read through, your jaw dropping to the floor.

‘hope you don't mind reviewing all of these by the end of office hours! (p.s stop being a sleepyhead) — your handsome hannie.’

“What the fuck.” You breathed out.

Chan turned his head to look at you. “What the fuck, what?”

While you were gawking at the sticky note in your hands, Seungkwan slowly stood up and leaned forward, sneaking a glance at it. “이게 뭐야 (what is this)?”

Without moving your eyes, you pass the note to Seungkwan and glance at him as he audibly gasps before passing it over to Chan.

“Oh my god, screw Yoon Jeonghan!” Seungkwan hisses, resting his arms on the cubicle divider.

“I don't know if you like him,” Chan began, and you could tell by the tone of his voice that he was about to say something to test your patience. “But I'm damn sure he likes you.”

You glared at the two grown men who were giggling like highschool teenagers.

“Shut up before I report you two for verbal harassment!” You snapped, and the two of them immediately put a finger against their lips, shushing themselves. Seungkwan slowly leaned away and sat down on the chair with a sigh as Chan busied himself with work.

Again, you were stuck with loads of work and it frustrated you so much. Like Seungkwan said, screw that menace.

After atleast 2 hours of continuous work, Seungkwan and Chan asked you to join them for lunch, but you could manage with coffee for now. Plus, over eating would really slow down your work and it was due 6PM. So, you tell them to bring you a sandwich from the corner shop when they come back.

You watch as everyone leaves one by one, and when you think everyone is gone, you get up from your seat and head to the department’s kitchenette to get coffee.

As you pour yourself a cup of coffee, a thought suddenly hits you—the blind date. You pause, letting out an annoyed sigh.

You had completely forgotten about that…

Well, the blind date isn't really yours because it was supposed to be your friend's. But when she came running to beg you to cover this up for her in exchange for a pochacco keychain that you always had your eyes on, there was no way you could turn down this tempting offer.

But the thing was—how will you even mess this blind date up? The original plan was that you'd act so dumb and weird to the point the blind date would reject you himself. But you figured out that you would not last a second especially since it was a fancy restaurant. There is no way you're embarrassing yourself just for a man to reject you.

Then it hit you—you can just pay someone to be your fake boyfriend for like an hour, and he can mess this blind date up.

Seems like a perfect idea, doesn't it? The problem is, where and how on earth will you get a fake boyfriend for an hour?

The first two people that came to your mind were Seungkwan and Chan, but then you know they’d suck at this job. It's not like they would agree anyway.

“What's got you so zoned out?” A familiar voice pulled you out of your thoughts, and you turned around to see Joshua entering the kitchenette with a cup in his hand.

“Ah, it's nothing.” You say, smiling.

He mirrors your smile, walking to the coffee machine to pour himself a cup. “You didn't go out for lunch?”

You shake your head, taking a sip of your coffee. “I have some work to do, I'll go later.”

“Remember to take breaks, don't overwork!” He reminds with raised eyebrows. You nod in acknowledgement, letting out a chuckle.

“What about you? Shouldn't you be having lunch with Jeonghan right now?” You ask, referring to the fact that they usually have lunch together.

Joshua presses his lips in a thin line, taking his cup of coffee and turning to face you. “Well, yeah, but he's been busy lately. The chairman demanded all the team leaders to attend the following meetings and do extra work.” He says, scrunching his nose before smiling.

“Oh…” you trail off, subtly nodding. No wonder you hadn't seen him all day.

“But don't worry, he should be back in just an hour or two.” He assures, taking a sip of his coffee.

For a moment, you look at Joshua, who was busy reading the details of a food pack. Then, as if your mind unlocked an idea, your eyes went wide in realisation.

He could be the one to help you with this blind date.

“Shua,” you called out, grabbing his attention as he raised his gaze to look at you.

“Yeah?”

You take a few seconds to form your words, biting the inside of your cheek. “Remember when I took the blame of accidentally tearing Jeonghan’s favourite coat but it was actually you who did it?” You recall, a glint of mischief in your eyes.

Joshua paused, his lips parted slightly as he blinked. “I— are we really bringing that up?” He whined, his eyebrows furrowing as he leaned on the counter.

“Well, yes we are!” You grin, and he pouted.

“Please don't tell him, you promised you won't!” he pleaded, placing the cup on the counter to rub his palms together.

“I won't, I won't,” you reassure, patting his shoulder. “I just need you to return that favour right now.”

He straightened his posture, looking at you with wide puppy eyes. “What do you need me to do?” He asked, waiting for your answer.

You take a deep breath before looking at him with a sheepish smile.

“I need you to pretend to be my boyfriend for an hour.”

Joshua’s smile dropped, and he looked at you as if you were insane. He tilted his head, his face painted with confusion.

“뭐? (what)” He exclaimed, raising an eyebrow.

“You heard me!”

“Yes I did, and it's absurd.”

Your lips jut out in a pout at his words. “Come on, please!”

“But why do you even need a fake boyfriend?” He asks, then you realise that you'd make sense if you told him the reason.

“It’s not my date… I just agreed to cover up for my friend and I need to mess this up. It's coming up this Sunday…” You confess, making Joshua frown’s grow deeper.

“First of all, why would you even agree to that? And second of all, I'm not gonna be the one helping you with this.”

Closing your eyes tightly, you huff out a breath. He wasn't even wrong, so you couldn't be mad at him. Instead, you just take a sip of your coffee, and lean back on the counter with a disappointed sigh.

“You’ll get paid for it.” You say in an attempt to bribe him, following after him as he starts walking towards the office area.

“I'm still not doing it, Y/n.” He sighs.

Joshua, indeed, had no problem with pretending just for an hour. Especially if he got paid for it? Perfect. But there was no way in hell he would accept this offer, being fully aware of the fact that Jeonghan is his bestfriend.

“Just say you hate me,” you mumbled, purposely making yourself heard by him.

“There are other people you can ask—” he paused, turning around. “Actually, no. Not other people. Only Jeonghan.”

Your face fell. You squint your eyes at him, looking him up and down. “Are you, like, sick in the head?”

Joshua sighed, not fazed by your judging. “C’mon, I'm being serious!”

“You don't sound serious. He is probably the last person I'd ask about this.” You say, resting your hands on your hips.

“And the only person who would agree without a question.” He states as a matter of fact, his lips curving into a sly smile. “You know that yourself.”

You pause, staring at him as a wave of hesitation and realisation wash over you.

If you were to ignore his words right now, it wouldn't seem like a big deal. But as you drown in your own thoughts, you start to wonder about it too.

Would he? But what if he doesn't? What if he rejects right away? Or would he actually accept it without a question?

“Hello? Hellooo?” You snapped out of your thoughts as Joshua waved his hand infront of your face.

“I—”

“Y/n!! We're back!” Chan shouted, looking around the office as he stepped out of the elevator with Seungkwan. You turn your head to look at them, biting your lower lip, still hovering over Joshua's words.

“I'll get going now,” you say, flashing a smile as you glance at him. He nodded, the sly smile never leaving his face. You knew he was aware that you were considering what he said, but you decided to play it cool.

Giving Joshua one last look, you turned away to walk up to Seungkwan and Chan. “얘들아 (guys)!” You called out for them, and they ran to you with huge food bags in their hands.

Before the three of you headed to your cubicles, you turned to look at Joshua—who was watching something on his phone. “Shua!” You yell from the office, waving your hand as a gesture for him to come over and have lunch together.

He scrunched his nose and pressed his lips into a thin line, shaking his head with a soft smile. Just as you were about to insist, Seungkwan made his way to him and wrapped his hands around his arm, pulling on it.

“Enough with your no's!” Seungkwan complained with a mouthful of fried chicken, practically dragging Joshua into the office and sat him down on your chair. You threw your head back in laughter as Chan clapped at the scene unfolding infront of you two.

“I said it's fine,” Joshua laughed, amused by Seungkwan's behaviour.

“Just have lunch with us, it's been awhile since the last time.” Chan said, and you nod.

“Right? You only stick to Jeonghan all the time!” You say, folding your arms.

“Like you?” Chan giggles, already holding his hand up to prevent you from hitting him. You frown, smacking his shoulder while Seungkwan got busy gossiping with Joshua.

Soon after the four of you had lunch, you all got back to your own work as everyone returned to the office. You thought you would take a bit longer than usual today because of the amount of work you had received from Jeonghan, but call it your experience over the months or the desperation to go home, you were surprisingly done much earlier than expected. But Seungkwan, Chan and Joshua had already left an hour ago. Even though they insisted that they wait for you, you didn't want them to waste their time.

As you get up from your seat, stretching your body to ease the stiffness, you glance at the time. It was 4PM already, and you hadn't seen Jeonghan all day.

Where was he?

You sling your bag over your shoulder, heading towards the elevator as you take out your phone and check his last dm.

Yesterday at 10:49PM

handsome hannie😇: 잘자~! (goodnight) handsome hannie😇: 🤍🤍🤍 You: bad night ◠‿◠ღ

You softly smiled as your gaze lingered on his name saved on your phone.

You had given Jeonghan your phone password for important work, but instead of doing what he was supposed to, he cared more about changing his nickname from ‘mr. yoon’ to ‘handsome hannie’ and made sure to put an angel emoji after it. Even after you had seen it, you never really bothered to make any changes. Plus it made you smile whenever you noticed it.

With a long sigh, you stepped into the elevator after the other employees had gotten off, and pressed on the button that led to the first floor. The elevator seemed to move a bit faster than usual because you were just putting your phone in your bag when the doors were already open.

Stepping out, you offer small smiles at the other employees before reaching the entrance, bracing yourself to walk to your apartment since you didn't have your car.

“Took you long enough,” a voice called out from behind, and you have to pause for a bit to comprehend your hearing skills. As you slightly look over your shoulder, you watch as Jeonghan walks up to your side with a grin across his face.

“너 (you)?” You ask, causing him to fold his arms, exaggerating a pout.

“Aren't you happy to see me after so long?” He asks, expecting nothing but a scoff and an eye roll from you in response.

You scowl, rolling your eyes. Just like he guessed. You were hesitant to ask him where he was for so long, but lucky for you, he is already starting on that topic.

“I suddenly wanna quit as a team leader,” he sighs. That's when you notice the slightest hint of drowsiness in his eyes—they were looking much softer, almost droopy.

“왜 (why)? I thought you liked abusing the privilege.” You remarked, your eyes refusing to leave his even after he looked away with a pout.

“Well, that is true,” he says, lifting his gaze. You immediately looked away, praying that he didn't catch you staring like a stupid. But when he took a few seconds to continue with his sentence, you knew you were done for.

He let out a chuckle, deciding that he will let it slide today because he didn't want to annoy you. Also because he was a bit tired to keep up with his own antics.

“Let's just say… It's a moment of weakness. Like, right now I'm hating my job, but I know I'll be loving it by tomorrow.” Jeonghan grinned, putting his hands behind his back.

Your gaze lingered on him for a bit, uncertain about his words. “Did they give you too much work?” You ask, furrowing your eyebrows.

He shook his head, his grin never leaving his face. “That's not something to worry about right now,” he says, bringing his hand to rest on his stomach. “I'm hungry. Like really hungry.”

You squint your eyes. “Go eat something?”

“That, I'll do. But…” he trails off, batting his eyelashes at you.

“뭐 (what)?”

He sighs, one of his hands reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose as the other one rested on his hip. He goes on with his dramatic act for a moment before turning to face you.

“Let's have dinner together.” He says in a rushed tone, already rubbing his palms together.

You stare at him for a second, then let out a laugh. “And what do I benefit from it?” You retorted, and the corners of his lips curved into a small smirk as if he had the perfect reply to that.

“Free food, and a very handsome man by your side that you can show off as your boyfriend for tonight.”

As you heard the word ‘boyfriend’, your mind recalled Joshua’s words.

“The only person who would agree without a question.”

And the idea of Jeonghan as your boyfriend sounded so… tempting. No. Hold on. You need to get a grip, really.

What are you thinking?

Pushing your thoughts aside, you shift your gaze from him with a snicker. “Not interested,” you say, turning to walk away.

You had barely lifted your other foot, and Jeonghan's hand was already wrapped around your wrist, keeping you from walking away. That small gesture was strangely enough to make your head spin for a millisecond.

“Are you really gonna leave me alone like this?” He exaggerated his pouty tone, putting a hand over his chest to emphasize his ‘pain.’

“Jeongha—”

“Please?” His tone softened ever so slightly. You turned around, looking at him for a moment before letting out a sigh.

“Okay, fine,” you huff, pulling your wrist out of his grip gently. “But I want the limited edition butterscotch sundae with chocolate wafers in my favourite ice cream parlour.” You add with a smile, and watch as he shakes his head.

“That's it?” He quipped, sliding a hand in his pocket to take out his card, waving it in his hand while wiggling his eyebrows. “I'm richer than that, sweetheart.”

“Oh my god.” you groan, rolling your eyes as you turn away to storm off. Jeonghan quickly shoves the card in his pocket, laughing like a menace while rushing after you.

“I'm sorry, I'm sorry! I'll get you the biggest butterscotch sundae to ever exist, I promise.” He jabbered, jumping around from your left to right. You had to grab his wrist to stop him because it was getting embarrassing.

The dinner went pretty well, and surprisingly, Jeonghan indeed fulfilled his promise by taking you to your favourite ice cream parlor. But you were convinced that it was your extreme bad luck when they ran out of butterscotch sundae just before you arrived there.

You ended up getting an alternative—a chocolate bar—instead. While Jeonghan was satisfied with the strawberry bar he had bought for himself, you were still sulking over the butterscotch sundae to the point he got you another ice cream so you could stop cursing under your breath every two seconds.

Well, you wouldn't say you were completely satisfied, but two chocolate bars were enough to shut you up.

By the time both of you arrived at the apartment building, it was already past 9PM.

“We're here,” Jeonghan said, shoving the car key in his pocket. Just as you reached out to open the car door, he told you to wait before getting out of the car in a hurry and walking over to the passenger side.

A sly smile played on his lips as he opened the car door, extending his hand dramatically for you to take. You scoff, smiling a little at his antics.

“How could you ignore such a handsome man?” He stressed, leaning against the car door when you refused to take his hand and got out of the car on your own. You lightly hit his head, earning a much exaggerated grunt from him in response.

“I’m more than capable of getting out of the car myself, stop crying.” You jested as he turned around with a huff.

Before he could open his mouth to protest, a car loudly pulled into the parking lot, catching both of your attention.

“Isn't that Joshua's car?” You remarked, and Jeonghan nodded.

“It is.” He confirmed, taking a few steps back to get a better look of the car. The driver's seat door opened, revealing Joshua as he got out of the car and spotted you two.

“Ah,” he smiled, making his way towards Jeonghan's car.

“You didn't tell me you were coming?” Jeonghan asked, causing Joshua to frown.

“So now I'm not even allowed to visit my bestfriend without permission?” He deadpanned, eyes shifting between you and Jeonghan.

“Oh my god,” he gasped, lifting his finger to point at you two. “A late night date?”

Hearing that, your hand instinctively reached out to smack Joshua's head, but he was quick enough to move away with a giggle.

“I mean, if it seems so… then, probably yes!” Jeonghan grinned.

This time, you shoved Jeonghan with all your power, resulting in him almost falling flat to the ground.

“Why are you violent?” Joshua chuckled in amusement, grabbing his bestfriend's arm just in time as Jeonghan held his shoulder for support.

“Ask yourselves.” You retorted.

“Is this what I get in return after buying you two ice creams?” Jeonghan sighed, rubbing his hips dramatically with a pout.

You look at him up and down, holding in a laugh. “Yeah, because I wanted butterscotch. Not chocolate.” You reply, mimicking his pouty tone before turning around to walk inside the apartment building.

“Goodnight!” Jeonghan shouted and kept giggling, watching you walk away while Joshua stood there—lips parted, eyebrows furrowed as if he was just told the most confusing lore to ever exist.

“You two… right after work.. ice creams…” Joshua mumbled, shifting his gaze on Jeonghan. “Isn’t that literally an ice cream date?”

Jeonghan looked at him, putting a hand on his shoulder as he leaned in. “Not just an ice cream date. A dinner date.” He corrected, leaning away with a proud grin.

“와 (woah),” Joshua raised an eyebrow, a soft laugh escaping his lips. “You're really stepping up your game, huh?”

Jeonghan closed his eyes, nodding, satisfied and proud with his great work.

“Well, I have another thing for you that can take you close to victory.” Joshua added, shoving his hands in his pocket as Jeonghan snapped his head to look at him.

“What is it?” He asked, following after him as he started to walk inside the apartment building.

“I take fried chicken with cold drinks as a form of payment.” Joshua said, causing Jeonghan to let out a whine.

“C’mon, let me survive one minute without spending my money!” He protested, but Joshua shook his head with a smile.

But at the end, Jeonghan had to order take out for his dear bestfriend, and he swears that if this piece of information isn't useful, he is kicking Joshua out. (He won't, but that's just his way of exaggeration)

“Okay, now begin.” Jeonghan plopped down on the couch beside Joshua in his pyjamas, holding a small bottle of cold drink in his hand.

Joshua chewed on the fried chicken in his mouth, gulping it down before he spoke. “Y/n has a blind date on Sunday.”

And Jeonghan immediately spat out the drink in his mouth, coughing out loud. Joshua winced with a scowl, patting his back.

“Calm down—”

“What!?” Jeonghan shouted at the top of his lungs, eyes widened to the point it looks like they will pop out any moment.

“Oh my god, be quiet!” Joshua hissed, smacking his shoulder.

Jeonghan, the horrified expression never leaving his face, sinked into the couch and covered his face with his hands, letting out an exasperated sigh.

“Hey, listen to me first,” Joshua says, taking the cold drink from his hands and placing it on the table. “It’s not her blind date, it's her friend's.”

Upon hearing that, Jeonghan slid his hands down from his face to rest on his chest with a frown. “What do you mean?”

“The reason is because her friend wanted her to mess this date up, and she asked Y/n to do it for her.”

“And she agreed?” Jeonghan asked, somewhat relieved but genuinely dumbfounded. Joshua nodded, taking a sip of the cold drink before he continued.

“I don't know what her plan is, but here's the chase,” his tone lowered slightly as he shifted his position to face Jeonghan better. Sensing that this was the important part, Jeonghan sat up straight, listening intently while nodding to each word.

“She is looking for someone to pretend to be her fake boyfriend for this.”

Jeonghan’s eyebrows furrowed as he stopped nodding at the last five words. He clicked his tongue, clearly in disbelief.

“Wait,” He paused, glancing at Joshua. “How do you know all this?”

At that question, Joshua blinked, lips parting slightly. He cleared his throat, giving Jeonghan a hint with his expression.

Jeonghan’s jaw dropped to the floor. “설마… (no way)” he breathed out, and when he received a sheepish nod from Joshua, his mind went crazy.

He put a hand over his forehead, throwing his head against the couch with a loud thud.

“Hey, I didn't accept it though—”

“That’s not the point,” Jeonghan sighed, sounding much more serious as the whiny tone in his voice dropped. “I’m probably not even the last person she would ask about this.”

“땡 (wrong)!”

“What?”

“Let’s be real here,” Joshua began. “It's so painfully obvious that she has a soft corner for you.”

Jeonghan bit his lower lip, considering his words.

“I suggested she talk to you about it, and from what I noticed, she is actually giving it a thought!” He added, making Jeonghan gasp.

“진짜 (seriously)!?”

Joshua nodded proudly, raising his eyebrows. Then, he sucked in a breath before starting to speak again.

“I’m sure she has doubts about what I said,” he says, reaching out to pat Jeonghan's shoulder. “So now, you have to be the one to erase those doubts.”

──────୨୧ NEXT MORNING (WEDNESDAY)

With a sigh, you shut your closet after you had gone through it for the third time and still failed to find your muffler.

Today's weather was really the complete contrast of yesterday's, and you're joking to yourself that this is a sign for something interesting. Although your predictions never turn out correct, you still like to try your luck.

Maybe one day after your retirement, you could try being an astrologer?

Jokes aside, you're seriously screwed today. The weather outside your window looked like it could freeze you as soon as you step out of the apartment building. And you are one hundred and ten percent sure that you left your muffler on your cubicle desk yesterday.

How great.

Just as you had given up searching for it and headed to the living room to slide in your shoes, someone knocked on the front door.

“Coming!” You yell, quickly placing your phone on the table before making your way towards the door. You peeked through the peephole while squinting your eyes to find Jeonghan on the other side of the door, waiting for you to come outside.

Twisting the doorknob, you gradually opened the door, watching as Jeonghan’s eyes immediately lit up at the sight of you.

“Good morning,” he greets with a sly smile, lifting his arm to rest it on the doorframe as he leaned against it.

“What are you doing here?” You ask, tilting your head.

“Waiting for you.” He replies, leaning away from the door frame as he shoves his hands in his pockets.

“왜 (why)?”

“애이… you're asking too many questions, sweetheart.” Jeonghan quipped, one of his hands reaching out to open the front door fully before he walked past you. You made no efforts to stop him, because you know it was just a waste of energy in the morning. So, you just close the door and fold your arms as you watch him roam around your living room like he owned the place.

“Y’know, you can just wait for me at the office if you want to start ruining my day.” You joke, fighting a smile when Jeonghan pauses with a frown.

“I didn't know you hated me so much,” he sighed, plopping down on the couch as his gaze followed you to the kitchen island.

“You’ll be surprised, Yoon Jeonghan.” You chuckle, not failing to catch the amused smile on his face while he playfully glared at you.

“Don't call me that.”

“Call you what?”

“That.” He pointed his finger at you, referring to how you called him by his full government name just now.

Your expression shifts to amusement. “Isn't that your name?” You say, turning around to stir something in the pot that laid on top of the stove.

Instead of arguing back, Jeonghan gets up from the couch and walks towards you, peeking over your shoulder. “What are you cooking?”

You jump at the suddenness, placing a hand over your chest as you snap your head, only to find him just a few inches away from you.

“I—” You freeze, the realisation that his face was so close to yours dawning on you. You stare at him, eyes widened and lips parted as he gawks at the pot with raised eyebrows like a curious kid.

“Woah, that looks delicious,” he breathed out, shifting his gaze on you. “You don't mind if I take a bite, right?”

Maybe he noticed the way your cheeks were heating up and how you couldn't take your eyes off him, because his face brightened with that same annoying smirk when you didn't respond.

“Stop staring, you’ll fall in love.” He teased, leaning in to the point your noses almost touched. But before they could, you returned back to your senses and immediately stepped back, stumbling on the rug beneath your foot.

Just when you closed your eyes tightly, thinking that you were about to crash straight onto the floor, you felt a warm hand on the lower of your back that pulled you back upward.

Oh my god. No way.

You know the moment you open your eyes, the first thing you’ll see is him. Especially with that sly smile dancing on his lips, just a few inches away.

Jeonghan noticed how you refused to open your eyes even after he pulled you in, an amused smile creeping up to his lips as he just stared at you for a moment, tilting his head.

“You can open your eyes, I don't bite.” He chuckled. When you felt his hand move away from your waist, you slowly opened your eyes, raising your gaze to look at Jeonghan timidly. He burst into laughter, his hand reaching up to pinch your cheek gently before you shrug it off.

“Go away, I'm doing something.” You mumbled, using your forearm to shove him out of the way. His grin never left his face even as he winced at the harshness.

“You're not gonna share that?” He asks, referring to the ramen you were cooking as he stepped forward. But he just let out a soft laugh when you stepped away from him, as if he was radiating danger.

“No, I'm eating this alone.” You say, serving the ramen on a plate and turning to walk away with it.

“Hey! That's not fair!” Jeonghan whines as he follows after you. He kept complaining, plopping down on the couch beside you before you finally had to give up and feed him a bite.

“Now shoo!” You gently push him by your elbow, earning a giggle from him. He took out his phone, leaning away to click a picture of you.

You were too busy with your food to argue.

When Jeonghan came into your apartment, there was still an hour until office hours started. But when you told him to go wait in his own apartment because he would get bored here, he denied.

“It’ll be more boring if you're not there.” He had said, winking. As always, you ignored his corny words and busied yourself with your own chores.

“Let's go, I'm ready.” You say as you walk out of your room, fixing the watch on your wrist. Jeonghan looked in your direction, got up from the couch before putting his phone in his pocket.

“Okay, beautiful.” He leans over from behind, his tone unbelievably flirty as he whispers before heading over to the front door like nothing happened. You take a deep breath, glaring at him as he unlocks the door and steps outside.

Grabbing your handbag, you walk out of the apartment, turning around to lock your door.

“Give me that,” Jeonghan says, lifting his hand. You glance at him, then at his hand, tilting your head.

“Give you what?”

He sighs, a faint smile playing on his lips. He leans over, taking the handbag from you. You watch confusedly as he does, not bothering to stop him.

“This.”

“What will you do with that?” You ask.

“Nothing, just being the gentleman I am.” He smirks, waving your bag in his hands.

Letting out a scoff, you look at him up and down with an unamused expression. “Not very like you.” You remark, happy to see him offended by your words.

Jeonghan opens his mouth to say something, but then pauses with a frown, lifting his finger to point at your neck. “Where’s your muffler?”

You couldn't help the sigh that left your lips when he mentioned it.

Clicking your tongue, you scrunch your nose before speaking. “I can't find it… I think I left it at work yesterday.”

At that, Jeonghan let out an amused chuckle. “Didn't know you were forgetful,” he ribbed, his hand reaching out to ruffle your hair.

What the fuck. Why did he just ruffle your hair? He had never done it before?

“I— you’ll mess up my hair!” You complain, fixing your hair with your hands.

“Okay, I'll let you live.” He snickered, following after you as you turned around to walk to the elevator. Just when you were about to reach there, Jeonghan called out.

“Wait, no,”

You turn around, furrowing your eyebrows. “What's wrong? We’ll be late!”

“Just wait a second,” he urges, turning around to run towards his apartment room before he unlocked the door and rushed inside. With a sigh, you folded your arms as you waited for him.

You opened your mouth to call out to him again, pausing when he steps out at that very moment and quickly locks the front door before making his way to you with a muffler in his hands.

“What are you—”

“Let's head to the ground floor first.” He quickly says, nodding towards the elevator. You do as he says, stepping into the elevator with him. As soon as the doors slide open, you two walk towards the main entrance. Just before reaching there, he tells you to wait and walks infront of you.

“Hold this,” Jeonghan says, handing your bag. You stare at him curiously and confusedly, doing what he tells you to. When you took your handbag, he wrapped the muffler around your neck, carefully overlapping the cloth.

For a moment, your heart skips a beat when you realise how close he is standing. His eyebrows were furrowed, lips pursued in concentration as if he was doing the most risky thing ever.

The longer you stare at him, the more your cheeks dust a warm shade of pink and your heart beats uncontrollably against your chest, making you feel like it's about to burst out.

“There!” He grins, leaning away as he tugged at the ends of the muffler. “Much better.”

Surprisingly, you're quick to look away this time, your hands reaching up to touch the soft cloth around your neck.

“You… didn't have to do that.” You mutter, sounding embarrassingly shy and affected.

“I can't have you freezing in this weather, y'know.” He smiles, not forgetting to take your handbag before he glances down, fighting a full grin.

Then, before you know it, his hand is holding yours as he leads you out of the apartment building. You swear, at that moment, your heart stopped beating and your soul flew out of your body before entering again.

Your eyes were stupidly gawking at his hands that were holding yours—so gently and sweetly, like you were the most precious one in the world for him right now. Gulping down the lump in your throat, your hands reacted on their own as you wrapped your fingers around his hands aswell.

The feeling made you smile. In this weather, it felt like summer without the overbearing heat. That's the only way you can explain this sweet feeling.

Your eyes trailed up to him, staring at the faintest hint of a smile playing on his lips. You're not sure if it's because you held his hand, or because of something else.

You wonder if you can hold his hand forever like this—

“Are we standing here all day?” Jeonghan's amused voice snapped you out of your dreamland. You flinched slightly, gripping his hand a little tighter as you looked around, taking in your surroundings. Then, your eyes land on Jeonghan’s car infront of you, with the passenger side door opened.

Biting the inside of your cheek gently, you glance at him before stepping forward to sit on the passenger seat. As you took your seat, Jeonghan’s hand slowly slid away before he closed the door, still smiling like a menace.

You want to hate yourself for it, but your stomach flipped ten times when he took his hand away. The cold air didn't waste a second before stinging your hand, making you wince. Your gaze dropped to your lap, watching your hand that Jeonghan had held.

“Why are you so quiet?” He suddenly broke the silence, starting the car engine. You didn't even realise that he had entered the car. “Aren’t you in a mood to, like, nag me or something?”

Composing yourself, you let out a soft scoff, looking out of the window. “Focus on driving, gremlin.”

He chuckled, humming in response before beginning to drive out of the parking lot. The whole ride to your work felt like a fever dream, and he spent the entire time teasing or flirting with you while all you did was roll your eyes and scoff in response.

It wasn't your fault. It was him who cared enough to bring a muffler for you, initiated to hold your hand. And you don't know why you are affected by the bare minimum.

One thing's for sure, though—you’d like to hold his hand again. Took you a long time to convince yourself.

──────୨୧ THURSDAY

Yesterday was, well, interesting. Just like you guessed in the morning. Maybe you should really start preparing to become an astrologer.

The sun must have risen from the West, because there was no extra useless work given by your team leader yesterday. And your day went… peaceful?

Well, that's what you had thought until Jeonghan literally asked to go watch a movie together tomorrow (today). When you asked why it was so out-of-the-blue, he only replied with “I’ll take that as a yes.” and ran off to his room.

As you let yourself drown in your thoughts, you gawk at your reflection in the mirror, reaching out to pinch your cheek to double-check if you were really alive and breathing.

Knowing you, Jeonghan wouldn't really bother to wait for you to go to the movie theatre together. Because it's either that he’ll end up wasting a ticket, or he’ll have to endure your nagging during the entire ride there. You generally wouldn't bother to join him either. But now as you are scanning through your closet, trying on every one of your favourite clothes, you are doubting yourself.

“This is it!” you mutter to yourself, grinning as you look at the dress you had just tried on and it seemed perfect. Fair to say, you're too excited to go to this “hang out” with Jeonghan, and wasting your two hours on finding the perfect outfit was probably worth it.

Just as you picked up the lipgloss from your vanity, your phone rang—it was Jeonghan. Pausing for a moment, you take your phone and answer his call.

“Are you ready?” Jeonghan asks from the other end of the call. You shake your head, as if he could see.

“아니 (no), not yet.” You respond, placing the phone down on the vanity before opening the lid of the lipgloss and applying it on your lips slowly.

Although it was a bit muffled, probably because he had covered his mouth, you heard him let out a soft laugh. “Don’t look too pretty, though. Can't have others thinking that they stand a chance against me.”

Hearing that, you mildy paused while staring at yourself in the mirror. You let out a chuckle, dropping your gaze to the lipgloss in your other hand before closing it with the lid.

A part of you came to the realisation—no matter how many times he passes over his ridiculous pick up lines, you’ll never get used to it. It does something to you each and every time that you can't explain, but it feels special and close to your heart.

“Too late, you’ll have to fight now.” You joke in response. Jeonghan’s smile widens, clearly satisfied with your response.

“Really?” He asks, amusement audible in his tone. You hum in response, putting on your favourite sandal.

“Okay, I'll do it.”

“Do what?” You ask, having zoned out for a moment.

“Fight those who think they stand a chance against me.” He says, making you playfully scoff.

“We’ll see. You’ll probably back out before the fight even starts.”

“No way,” he is quick to deny, sounding offended. “It’s your fault for being so gorgeous. Now I'll have to hurt my pretty hands by punching someone… ouch.” He exaggerates, faking a weeping noise.

“Oh my god, you should be casted in a romance movie.” You sigh, trying your best to calm down as your heartbeat quickened by his words.

How could he call you gorgeous so casually like that, then pretend like nothing ever happened?

“I know right,” Jeonghan chuckles, enjoying your cooperation in his playfulness. “In a romance movie where we are the main leads. Sounds perfect.”

“Wait wha—”

“Let me know when you're ready, sweetheart, I'm waiting! Mwah!” With that, the call ends with a beep as Jeonghan hangs up.

You swear this man is after your heart.

Finally done with taking your time to dress up and do your makeup, you walk out of your apartment and head towards the elevator. You quickly rush out of the apartment building, looking around the parking lot for Jeonghan.

He had told you that he was waiting for you here beside his car.

You fight a smile when you spot Jeonghan, leaning against his car while scrolling on his phone. With soft steps, you sneak up behind his back and peek over his shoulder to find him playing some kind of a puzzle game. You gently hit head, and he jumped, letting out a small yelp.

“I didn't know you still played these,” you teased, trying to take a look at his phone screen. He yanked his arm away, shoving the phone in his pocket.

“It's not a crime! I was just getting bored.” He argued back, pouting before the corner of his lips curved into a smirk as he finally took a good look at you.

“Woah,” He breathed out, his eyes glinting with mischief. “Waiting for hours was really worth it, huh?”

You paused, blinking. He tilted his head with a sly smile, causing you to step away and clear your throat.

“가자 (let's go), we’ll be late.” You say in an attempt to ease the tension building up in you.

“Did you take this much time to look pretty for me? Or for yourself? Hm?” He poked your cheeks with his finger, staring at your annoyed state fondly.

You slapped his hand away, huffing. He giggled, helping you to open the car door as you struggled to do so. You shut the door close after you got in, looking anywhere but at the menace who leaned forward, resting his arms on the window.

“Sweetheart, you look pretty everyday. And damn, when you take your time to glam up, you look ethereal. But what about my poor heart? It suffers to beat after seeing your gorgeous self, oh my go—”

“Shut the hell up, Yoon Jeonghan!” You snap, fighting a smile as you gently shove his shoulder with your hand. He continues to snicker, finally walking over to the other side of the car to open the door and sit on the driver's seat.

“Do you think I should become a writer or something?” Jeonghan asks, playfulness laced in his voice.

“No, I think you should zip your mouth and drive.” You respond, your gaze fixated outside of the window. He glanced at you, laughing under his breath before he started the car and began to drive.

“Someone's blushing because of my words, huh?” He grins, leaning over a bit to elbow your arm. Shooting a glare in his direction, you reach out to flick his forehead.

You're glad he wasn't looking, or he would catch the stupid smile playing on your lips. He winced, rubbing the area where you hit with his hand.

“Okay, okay, I'll shut up~” he sighs, glancing at you for a brief second before focusing on the road ahead.

The car ride to the movie theatre was anything but peaceful. And you got reminded again—this was the same Jeonghan who you used to call your ‘worst enemy' a few weeks ago. But no one would smile while listening to the cute rants of their worst enemy.

And oh my god. No one would think their worst enemy is cute.

For what felt like the thousandth time, you slapped Jeonghan’s shoulder, throwing your head back with a loud cry. He winced, rubbing his arm with a frown.

“Hey, stop hitting me, it hurts!” He hissed, careful not to disturb anyone present in the hall. Instead of acknowledging his words, you hid your face in your hands, crying like a kid that had been denied sweets. Jeonghan’s eyes observed you, concerned.

There was no way you were crying this much over a movie.

“He—” hiccup. “Is dead—” hiccup. “Oh m—” hiccup.

Unable to form a sentence due to your overflowing emotions, you hit Jeonghan's shoulder again, weeping loudly.

Now, normally the others present there would be mad at you. But the fact that almost everyone was crying just as loudly as you were, made it worse.

The movie was indeed emotional, and if Jeonghan had focused on watching it instead of you, he would be crying like you right now.

He knew this wasn't the most ideal situation where he should be holding in a laugh, but as he watched you, looking so adorable with your cheeks red and puffy, he couldn't help but smile. He took his time, staring at you fondly before he reached out, wiping the tears from your cheeks.

An extremely sad music started playing in the movie’s ending scene, causing everyone including you to cry even harder.

Just when you sinked in your seat, covering your face again while sobbing loudly, Jeonghan reached out and wrapped an arm around your shoulder, pulling you close against his chest as his other hand tucked a hair strand behind your ear. He got a bit concerned about your behaviour, but he pushed that thought aside with a chuckle.

“Shh, It's okay,” he whispers, careful not to startle you. You were so into bawling your eyes out that you couldn't process the little to no distance between you and Jeonghan, and instead of moving away, you buried your face in his neck, sniffing and sobbing.

He froze, his eyes widening for a split second out of surprise. He had thought of thousands of things that could have happened when he held you close like this for the first time ever.

You burying your face in his neck and resting a hand on his chest wasn't one of them.

He knew that it was only possible because you weren't really aware of your surroundings due to your emotions, but he melted under your touch, smiling to himself.

Even without being in your presence of mind, you could feel yourself getting comfortable and relaxed in his warm embrace. You two spent atleast twenty minutes like that, with him patting your arm gently, occasionally reaching up to wipe away your tears while you kept on crying.

Finally, the movie came to an end as people started to get up from their seats and make their way out of the hall, some of them still sobbing. You, on the other hand, had stopped crying just a minute ago, still sniffling and hiccuping every now and then.

But you hadn't moved an inch, and how he held you so gently made you feel safe and comfortable. It was as if you hadn't really come back to your senses, just exhausted from all the crying and seeking warmth.

“Don't fall asleep,” hearing his soft voice, your breath hitched. Reluctantly, you lift your gaze to look at him, not bothering to move away. He met your gaze, the corners of his lips curving into a warm smile.

“아이고… you cried alot,” Jeonghan cooed, tilting his head as he reached out to touch your tear-stained cheek. Meanwhile, you couldn't keep your eyes off him. He looked so calm, his gaze full of affection that you don't think you've ever noticed before, and his smile so sweet as if it was only meant to be seen by you.

Suddenly, one of the people leaving the hall sobbed loudly, catching Jeonghan's attention as he glanced at the person. But your gaze didn't shift even one bit. He let out a soft laugh, returning his eyes on you.

“But you're not alone, don't worry.” He assured, his arm around your shoulder loosening just enough for you to move away. Your lips reacted on their own as you faintly smiled.

The air around you suddenly felt cold when you pulled away from him. You gulped down the lump in your throat along with the strange feeling blooming inside you. Jeonghan pulled a handkerchief from his pocket, handing it to you.

With a sigh, you lift your gaze and look at him. “Do I… look stupid?” You ask, your voice barely above a whisper. He stares at you amusedly for a moment before shaking his head with a chuckle.

“Not at all,” he reassured, reaching out to push the hair falling on your face away. “You look pretty all the time.” He teased, his grin widening at the sight of your shy smile.

“Shut up,” you mumbled, hiding your smile with the handkerchief. Jeonghan glances at the exit of the hall, noticing that everyone had already left.

“Let's get out of here,” he says, getting up from his seat. “Unless you want to watch this movie again?”

“No way, I'm leaving.” You say, already getting up from your seat and walking towards the exit, causing him to laugh.

“We should watch it again, it was fun!” He ribbed.

“I can't ruin my makeup again!” You argue, and he giggles uncontrollably, following behind you while resting his hands on your shoulder.

Looking around the gorgeous neighbourhood that was adorned with spring flowers everywhere, you wait as Jeonghan talks with the shopkeeper.

“Here,” you turn your head at the voice, looking at Jeonghan as he extends his arm to give you the ice cream. You take it, frowning when you notice that he only got one ice cream.

“What about you?” You ask, lifting your gaze to look at him. He shakes his head, pressing his lips into a thin line.

“Not in the mood.” He shrugs off with a smile.

“Not in the mood? You need to be in a specific mood to be able to have ice cream?” With a judging look, you retort.

“I didn't mean that~” he laughs, following after you as you start to walk.

You click your tongue, taking a bite of the ice cream.

“I could enjoy a bite from yours instead!” He chirps, leaning over to your side with mouth wide open. But you shoved him gently, refusing to share, causing him to pout.

Suddenly, your eyes land on a vending machine a few blocks away. Without saying anything to Jeonghan, you sprint towards it as he calls out for you.

“Where are you going?” He asks, confused yet still rushes after you. You come to a halt upon reaching the vending machine, take out a coin from your purse before inserting it in the machine and tap on the ‘cold coffee’ option.

The machine makes a whirring sound, a can of cold coffee dropping out. You take it, turning to face Jeonghan as he stops running when you extend your arm in his direction.

He stares at the cold coffee in your hand confusedly until you speak.

“Take it, it's for you.” You say, faintly smiling as Jeonghan pursued his lips and took the can from your hands. He lifted his gaze to look at you, a soft smirk playing on his lips.

“Do I have to thank you?” He quipped, leaning forward while wiggling his eyebrows. With a huff, you turn your back at him and begin to walk away, fighting a smile.

Jeonghan watches amusedly as you walk away for a bit before glancing at the can of coffee in his hands with a small smile.

Maybe Joshua was right. You do have a soft corner for him. You do care about him.

He takes a deep breath, looking up in the sky to calm his racing heart. Then, he looks ahead before running after you.

“Wait up!” He shouts, fastening his pace to catch up with you.

The two of you walk for a bit, admiring the mesmerizing view of the neighborhood and pointing out random things to each other.

Soon, your thoughts began to revolve around Joshua’s words from two days ago, your head instinctively turning to look at Jeonghan.

But your mind starts to race with thousands of ‘what ifs’, making it impossible for you to initiate this topic.

What if he says no? What if it gets awkward? But Joshua's words seemed to make sense. Is this good timing? Should you be casual about it?

“Fuck it.” You mumbled to yourself, taking a deep breath before turning to face Jeonghan.

“Jeonghan,” you call out, and he pauses, looking at you as he waits for you to continue.

“Hm?”

Pushing your thoughts and nervousness aside, you bite the inside of your cheek before continuing.

“I… well— I wanted to ask…” you stammer, looking away with a heavy sigh.

He waited patiently, although a part of him was eager to hear your next words. Maybe this was the time. Maybe you would finally ask.

“Yeah?” He says, turning to face you better as he shoves his hands in his pocket.

After closing your eyes tightly to think about your next words, you gather the courage to look him in the eye. Then, in one breath, you ramble the words—

“I need you to be my fake boyfriend for… an hour…” you trail off, nervously pressing your lips into a thin line. You watch as Jeonghan's expression shifts to something you can't seem to pinpoint.

The corners of his lips curved into a giddy smile as his eyes glimmered with joy. He started to softly laugh uncontrollably, one of his hands reaching up to cover his face that was ridiculously turning red. He turned away for a moment before squaring his shoulders.

“Ah, 좋다 (great),” he breathed out, returning his gaze on you with a silly grin.

Your eyebrows furrow at his behaviour, causing you to get concerned for him instead of what his answer would be.

“...what?”

“I thought you'd never ask. ” He gushed, grinning from ear to ear.

You couldn't help but let out a confused chuckle at the sight of him getting so giddy all of a sudden. Just then, your mind clicked.

“I thought you'd never ask.”—does that mean he already knew about this?

“Wait what? How do you—” You pause, your eyes widening as Jeonghan suddenly shuts up.

“Oh my god, Hong Joshua…” you gasp, starting to feel the embarrassment get to you. Jeonghan chuckles in amusement as you cover your face and turn away.

“Put him aside, I want to know why I'm the last person you asked,” he asks, followed by a dramatic sigh of disbelief. You gulped before turning slightly.

“Well, I—” As soon as your gaze landed on Jeonghan—who was leaning in too close than necessary—your breath hitched. Heck, your lips were just a few centimetres away.

Without a word, you immediately stepped away, clearing your throat. He clicked his tongue, faking a small pout.

“Well, in that case…”

Your ears perked up at his words. “No!” You exclaim, your hand frozen mid-air.

But then you let out a sigh, your shoulder slumping. “Nevermind, you can say no..” you mumbled, mentally cursing yourself for believing Joshua's words.

“Say no to what?”

“This… fake boyfriend thing.”

“But I don't want to say no.” He says, tilting his head to observe your face better. You snapped your head to look at him with widened eyes of expectation.

“Are you saying that…” you trail off. He pressed his lips into a thin line, smiling faintly as he nodded.

As soon as you see the gesture, you let out a gasp, immediately throwing your arms around his neck to pull him in for a tight hug.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you!!” You squeal, using all your power to hug him tight.

Jeonghan, on the other hand, froze on the spot, taking a few seconds to process your sudden burst of happiness. Then, with a fond smile, he wrapped his arms around your torso and hugged you back.

“Oh my god,” you breathe out, pulling away from the hug just when he thought he would enjoy this moment for a few seconds more. “I have to tell Seoyun about this! 가자! (let's go)”

Before Jeonghan could even look at you properly, you had wrapped your arms around his and began to run towards the parking lot. But nevertheless, he still managed to match your energy.

Mainly because of the fact that he was the one helping you with this blind date. Not someone else. And he might give Joshua a big smooch the next time he sees him, because oh my god—he’s a literal cupid.

After the little “hangout”, you had dragged Jeonghan to your female colleague, Seoyun's, place to break the news to her since it was her blind date and now the plan was about to be perfectly executed.

You also got to know the reason behind why Seoyun didn't want to attend this blind date—it was her new boyfriend.

She had gotten into a relationship just a few weeks ago, and her parents are still unaware. And so, they prepared a blind date for her while she doesn't even know what the man looks like. But for the pochacco keychain, you are ready to help her out of this misery.

You, Jeonghan, Seoyun and her boyfriend really got along well. Soon, Joshua had also joined the friend group, helping you and Jeonghan to make up a good plan for this blind date. You really wished Chan and Seungkwan could join, but amidst all the planning and plotting, that thought had flown away from your mind.

The five of you had planned a little hangout after the blind date to celebrate it anyway, so you could invite them over then.

──────୨୧ SUNDAY (THE BLIND DATE)

Friday and Saturday had passed by in the blink of an eye, and your brain was about to burst from all the nervousness.

Seoyun had helped you get dressed up and did your makeup. Because even if this blind date was to be doomed, you had to dress up nicely since it was a fancy restaurant.

So, here you were—looking out of the huge window by your booked table, bored. It had been exactly 20 minutes since you had been sitting here, waiting for the blind date to arrive.

You don't know if you would even have to do anything and this date would already be cancelled, because this man was late—

“저기요 (excuse me), are you Ms. Shin?” A voice pulled you out of your thoughts. You raised your head to look at the person, blinking.

It was a man in a suit, his hair oddly styled and as much as you tried to ignore it, he had definitely overused his perfume.

After taking a minute or two to process his question, you bring yourself to nod. Well, you weren't ‘Ms. Shin’ but you figured that he was Seoyun’s supposed blind date since her last name is Shin.

“네, it is me.” You force a smile, watching as the man’s eyes flickered to your outfit. He swiped his tongue across his lips disgustingly, as if checking you out. Clearing your throat, you sat down on your chair without a word.

“Wow, not even asking me to sit down?” The man laughed, and your left eye twitched.

Yeah, no. Not after the ick he was giving you. You ignored his remarks, avoiding eye contact as he took a seat across from you.

“Well,” he sighed, leaning forward on the table. “You're a lawyer, right?”

With an uninterested expression, you nod.

“Then… you probably won't mind me asking what your monthly salary is?”

Huh? The date literally just started, and that's the first question you ask?

But you maintain your composure, trying to think of a made up answer. Then, he speaks again, not failing to piss you off.

“I mean, I wouldn't want a woman who depends on me all the time. Not only me, any other men wouldn't.”

This time, your right eye twitched.

First of all, Seoyun was not unemployed. She has a stable job, more than capable to support herself and she has worked hard for it. Whether the salary makes her a millionaire or just enough to survive a day, it should not matter to a literal blind date.

You're glad that Seoyun wasn't the one attending this date, because you know she would've snapped. And you really don't blame her as you almost roll your eyes at his words.

“Why does it even matter to you—”

A loud bang coming from the direction of the entrance interrupted you. Your eyes shifted to the entrance, immediately widening at the sight of… Jeonghan!?

Although it was a part of your plan (to barge in the restaurant dramatically), your jaw dropped to the floor when he walked in like he owned the place, his hands in his pockets. Not to mention his outfit was making every head turn in the room.

There was no way he looked so good in just a plain black buttoned up shirt, sleeves folded till his elbows and beige coloured pants. His dark brown hair fell on his face gracefully.

His eyes land on you, his lips widening into a smirk as he winks. Your breath hitched, and all you could focus on was the way he was heading to your booked table, your blind date still unaware. You noticed a group of young girls gasping, giggling and whispering among themselves.

You couldn't blame them, because oh my god.

Upon reaching your side of the table, he pulled his hands out of his pocket and the glint in his eyes shifted from smugness to something innocent effortlessly. It looked so real to the point you couldn't tell if he was really putting up an act.

“자기야 (baby), what is this?” Jeonghan asks, a frown painted on his face as he looks at you. Almost everyone present in the restaurant gasps.

First of all, your mind went spinning at the pet name he used so casually. And secondly, you have no idea what he is talking about because whatever he just said isn't a part of the script you two prepared.

“Are you seriously on a blind date right now? 자기야 (baby), do you want me to go crazy?” He asks again, his sad eyes looking straight into yours. You gawked at him, too focused on his words that sounded so genuine and real.

“What the hell is going on?” The blind date scowled. “Ms. Shin, is he someone you know—”

“Am I just someone you know?” Jeonghan feels the need to interrupt, and you want to punch his face for being so good at this.

Gulping down the lump in your throat, you look away from him and shift your gaze on the man. “He's not just someone I know,” you began, getting nervous as you feel Jeonghan’s eyes on you.

“He's the one I like.”

“What nonsense is this!?” The man snapped, slamming the table before getting up.

“You're making a mistake, woman. I'll show you who I am.” He threatened, aggressively pointing at you. Jeonghan grabbed his wrist tightly, his eyes narrowing as he deadpanned at him.

“How about you leave,” he snarked, his grip on his wrist tightening. “Before you know who I am.”

You and Jeonghan watched as the man shrugged his hand off and scoffed in disbelief, storming off while cursing under his breath.

“He seems like a pain in the ass.” He sighed, turning to look at you.

“And I'm the one you like, huh?” His tone immediately shifted to a softer one as he stepped closer, resting both of his hands on the table and leaning forward with a side smile. Unlike usual, you didn't move away when he came closer, but instead, you stared at him for a moment.

“You went out of script, so I had to aswell.” You say, rolling your eyes with a smile. Jeonghan sighs heavily, putting a hand over his chest.

“정말 (really)? I thought you were confessing your love for me.”

“가자 (let's go), we have to let the others know about this.” You say, ignoring his teasing and slinging your bag over your shoulder before getting up.

He watches as you probably bite back a smile and begin to walk.

“Hey, wait for the one you like!”

You were too indulged in the thought of how he protected you so effortlessly. How he could appear intimidating and then shift to his usual self with his loved ones—it all fascinated you so much.

You're glad he was behind you, or he would have another thing to tease you about—your stupid smile and blushing cheeks.

The evening sky was bright, and the gentle but cool breeze made you huff every now and then.

“It's cold?” Jeonghan asks. You nod in response, rubbing your hand together to provide them the warmth they craved. And not long after, you feel a coat being wrapped around you from behind.

Letting out a sigh, you turn around to find him smiling warmly as he adjusted the coat on your shoulders.

That definitely stirred something in you. Clearing your throat, you look away and breathe slowly.

“Is that better?” He asks, patting your shoulder one last time before stepping forward.

“You don't have to do this every time, y’know..” you say.

“But I want to.” He simply replies as both of you start walking again. While he keeps his gaze ahead, you steal multiple glances at him, suddenly feeling goosebumps.

Your eyes land on a bunch of big clay pipes lying on the ground just by the side of the street. It's been awhile since you tried balancing on those.

As you walk near one of the pipes, you use all your power to climb on top of it, letting out an excited yelp as you try to balance yourself.

“Hey! What are you doing, you’ll fall down!” Jeonghan yelled with panic, eyes widening. Just as you were about to lose your balance, you quickly crouched down, holding onto the pipe.

“Then hold my hand!” You exclaim, watching as he breaks into a grin.

“You could've just held my hand, no need to put up an act.” He teased, lifting his arm to hold your hand tightly and securely.

You ignored his remarks and the same feeling from the first time you held his hand, slowly standing up to your feet. Without a doubt, Jeonghan was still staring at you with a teasing smile, but you couldn't care less.

“I'm happy Seoyun wasn't the one attending this blind date.” You say as the two of you walk the quiet street, hand-in-hand.

“왜? (why)”

“Because that man was pissing me off,” you scowled, turning to look at him. “You won't believe what he said!”

Jeonghan bit his lower lip to hold in a chuckle at the sight of your puffy cheeks and widened eyes that gleamed with unreleased frustration.

“What did he say?” He asked in a soft voice, tilting his head.

“The first thing he asked was how much my salary is. Which, first of all, isn't what you ask as soon as you take a seat,” you began ranting, looking ahead while Jeonghan kept his eyes glued to you with a smile. He let out a “hm!” with a nod in response, full-on agreeing with your statement.

“And secondly, he dares to say that he doesn't want a woman who depends on him all the time? Who will tell him that nobody wants to depend on him anyway?”

“Hm!”

“Oh my god, who will tell him that he's not even this close to Seoyun or my type.”

“Hm, I know right!”

“Mind him, Seoyun is an extremely successful woman and it's because she worked hard for it!”

“맞아! (exactly)”

“I bet Seoyun's bank balance is ten times better than his!”

“Hm!”

You paused, turning to look at Jeonghan with a frown.

“Are you even paying attention? You're just hm-ing with everything I’m saying.” You ask, your eyebrows furrowed.

Jeonghan pulled himself out of his dreamland, looking up at you. He processed your question before the corners of his lips curled into a breath-takingly beautiful smile.

“You're cute. Really cute.”

He squeezed your hand gently, letting out a chuckle as you froze on the spot. It's unfair how he could say these things and make butterflies dance in your stomach.

After what felt like hours of staring at each other, you forced a scoff and looked away, trying to hide your face that was turning red as your grip on his hand loosened a little.

Just when you took a step forward, the pipe began to shake uncontrollably. But before you could even scream from the panic taking over you, Jeonghan quickly pulled you to his side and the two of you dropped to the ground with a loud thud. You, on top of him.

The way his hands held your waist to keep you from falling made your stomach twirl weirdly. Your eyes were closed tightly, but you knew that the moment you open them, the first thing you'd see is Jeonghan’s face just an inch away. Heck, you could even feel his warm breath hitting your face. Yet, you still dared to open your eyes gradually. Whether or not you realised it, you were staring at him while his eyes were closed. And even when he opened them, your gaze didn't falter even a bit.

If you wanted to, you could've looked away. But the dim lights of the street that brightened his features, and the gentle breeze that was the complete contrast of your trembling heart made it impossible.

The first thing you notice as you stare at him is his eyes. So soft, so dreamy and definitely carrying a deeper secret within them. Never in a million years did you think that you'd want to find out what it really was, but you're curious. Curious to find out the deeper meaning behind his special gestures that was only meant for you.

Maybe, just maybe, a part of you already knows. But now, in this moment, the realisation hits you—you want to be aware of each and every detail. Not just what you think is a hint.

You don't have to run away from the fact anymore. It's Jeonghan. Not someone else.

It's Jeonghan, the one you swear will be the first one to annoy you about something but also the first one to celebrate even your smallest achievements. The one who doesn't give a damn if it's freezing cold, but his first instinct is to shield you from it.

It's definitely worth it. It is—

“Are you gonna let me up, or are you gonna kiss me?” Jeonghan teased, his voice barely above a whisper.

Hearing that, you knocked some sense into your head and immediately pushed yourself up. You could hear him chuckling under his breath as you stood up on your feet.

“Tsk, kissing was a better option.” He sighed heavily, resting his arm on his knees as he lazily sat on the ground.

“Shut it and get up. Isn't that your favourite pair of jeans?” You remind him, holding in a laugh as the realisation settles in and he jumps up, patting the dust from his jeans.

“Oh my god, is it dirty?” He asks, a rush of panic painting his expression.

“몰라! (don't know)” Shrugging your shoulders, you flash a grin and turn around to walk away.

“야, 그러지 마! (hey, don't be like that)” He whines, trying to keep up with your pace, checking his jeans every now and then.

──────୨୧ AFTER-PARTY (12:40AM)

The celebration for successfully ruining the blind date was chaotic. Almost everyone, except Joshua and Jeonghan, was more than tipsy. You and Seoyun were busy living in your own world while Seungkwan, Chan and Seoyun’s boyfriend danced around the room. As expected, Joshua had to be the one to drop all of them because Jeonghan decided to stay back and clean your apartment.

And it was only when they all left, you realised that your apartment was… well, let's just say, it was not the most pleasing. But you relaxed a bit when Jeonghan reassured you that he'll help you with the cleaning.

So, here you were—sitting on the kitchen counter as Jeonghan washed the dishes. You two were done with all the cleaning and had taken a shower (not together, wake up). The only thing left was the mountain of dishes and surprisingly, he was kind enough to offer to do it.

“Seungkwan is a menace, he wasted six glasses just to drink.” You sigh, eyeing the pile of glasses and plates that Jeonghan had washed so far.

“That isn't even half of what he left behind,” he chuckled, rubbing his palm along a plate under the running tap water. “Look over there.” Nodding towards the trash he had swept away in a corner earlier, he said. Slowly, you follow his gaze, the slightest hint of smile on your lips immediately fading.

“Aren't those… the flowers you gifted me yesterday!?”

He nods, glancing at you with a smile. You caught the way he showed no signs of disappointment or sulkiness over the flowers, causing you to frown.

“And you're happy about that?” With a tone of disbelief, you question him.

“Ofcourse not,” he says, the amused smile never leaving his face. “But it means I can give you another one tomorrow.” With a flirty wink, he adds.

Mirroring his smile, you keep your eyes glued to him longer than necessary. “It better be tulips this time.”

“Got it!” He grins, placing another washed bowl on the counter.

You look at the torn flowers scattered away in the corner of the living room, letting out a sigh.

Those were your favourite flowers.

Placing your hands on the counter for support, you jump down to stand on your feet and accidentally hit one of the plates, causing it to shatter on the floor. You gasp at the sight, startled by the sudden loud noise.

Jeonghan immediately snapped his head in your direction, eyes widening with concern. Without thinking twice, you lean down to pick up the broken pieces, but he was quick to grab your hand.

“Let me do it,” he said, gently moving your hand. You pout, watching as he kneels down and begins to collect the pieces one by one.

“미안… (sorry), I didn't mean to.” You apologise softly, nervously fidgeting with the hem of your shirt.

Jeonghan glanced up at you for a brief second, flashing a reassuring smile. “Don’t apologise, it's really okay.”

“Be careful, you'll hurt yourself,” you say, leaning slightly to observe his hands. He smiled at your words, feeling giddy about the fact that you were worried about him.

Suddenly, his hand slipped over a sharp piece of the broken plate, slicing his skin deeply. He flinched, and let out a wince.

Your heart dropped.

Letting out a loud gasp, you kneeled down infront of him. Your eyes were wide in concern, your heartbeat quickening the more you frantically stared at the cut, and your hands reacted on their own as they reached out for his injured one in a hasty manner.

“Oh no,” you breathed out, gripping his hand tightly in panic. “Are you okay? Is the cut too deep? Does it hurt too much?” Your words slipped out in a hurry. Your eyebrows knitted together as panic and worry filled your emotions.

Jeonghan couldn't help but stare at you. Almost blinded by your beauty—if he can add. His heart skipped a beat or two, then began to beat unbelievably fast, just a few seconds away from bursting out of his rib cage. The way your hands gently clasped his was enough to subside the pain he was supposed to feel.

Finally breaking into a soft smile, his eyes never leaving your face. “I'm fine—”

“Wait here, I'll be back.” You take one last look at his wounded hand, then get up without a second thought to run to your bedroom.

Jeonghan paused with his words as his hands froze mid-air. His eyes followed you curiously until you were out of sight, then softened as you came rushing over to him with a med kit in your hands.

You grabbed his hand, which surprisingly showed no signs of uneasiness, and pulled him to stand on his feet, dragging him towards the couch. He plopped down on the couch, his gaze unwavering from your face as a soft smile ghosted his lips.

The hazy lights of the lamps you had turned on to make it seem more “cozy” was casting a gentle glow on your face. If he could stare more intensely and with more obvious love eyes, he would definitely see a halo above your head.

As you hurriedly take a seat next to Jeonghan, placing the med-kit on the space between you two, you could feel Jeonghan's gaze pierce through your soul. But at this moment, the extremely unsettling view of his bruised hand had occupied every corner of your mind. Worrying about him picturing every one of your moves was far away from your concern.

“Give me your hand,” your soft, but perturbed voice replaced the silence as your hands rummaged through the med-kit. While his heart tugged at your unusual serious face, the small smile that his lips were blooming with weren't leaving anytime soon.

As one of your hands continue to look through the unorganised medicines in the kit, you extend your other arm with open palms and wait for him to rest his hand on yours. Suddenly, you feel something heavy on your hand instead of a delicate hand.

Your eyes turned to him, softening as they met his content smile. As expected, he was resting his chin on your palm instead of his hand. His eyes locked deep into yours, a brighter and ethereal smile adorning his lips.

Before your lips could curve into a shy smile and cause your composure to teeter, you concedingly move your hand away to grab his hand.

A soft chuckle escaped his lips as he admired each and every detail about you—the way your lips were struggling to fight a smile, the way your eyes carefully examined his small wound, your delicate and fluffy cheeks, the quick glances you stole through your lashes, how comforting your hands felt with his, and how he is more than willing to sacrifice everything for this everlasting bloom of emotions that surged through his whole body whenever he was in your presence.

Unlike usual, no words were being spoken to lighten the mood, and to be very honest, neither of you two were bothered by the silence. It was comfortable, easy and serene.

But Jeonghan couldn't breathe without letting you know he is enjoying the moment.

“Someone's more worried than the injured himself,” he cooed sweetly, causing a warm feeling to envelope your heart.

“And the injured one isn't bothering to check the wound himself.” Without lifting your gaze, you deflected. Jeonghan realised that he had successfully lightened your mood up, and maybe he could regain the privilege to see your fluttering smile in this sensitive moment.

“Does it hurt?” You ask, pressing your lips into a thin line. He shook his head, his fingers wrapping around your hand.

“Since you're holding it so gently, it really doesn't— AGH!!”

His flattery-talk came to a devastating end as soon as the disinfectant touched his wound, as if the harsh reality thundered on him. He was, indeed, injured. And a wound wasn't about to be fluttered by his teasing.

He held in another yelp as the disinfectant kept coming in contact with his wound while he struggled to stay still.

“Be gentle, please!” He begged, his voice now a complete contrast to earlier. You glanced at him, holding in an urge to laugh at the sight of his over-stressed expression.

“왜 (why)? I thought it wouldn't hurt as long as I'm the one doing it?” You teased with a smile, causing his pink lips to jut out in a pout. 

Finally, the highlight of the day he'd always remember—your soft smile amidst the unwanted chaos. The wound was painful, ofcourse, but keeping him distracted from the obvious feeling was your comforting presence and gestures.

Just when he thought he could stretch this playful moment longer with his nonsense, you stopped applying the disinfectant and moved to grab the ointment. But small obstacles like these cannot stop Yoon Jeonghan from finding his way to your heart.

“You should hold my hand, it's better than this stinging thing and I'll be healed much sooner,” he dramatically whined when you let go of his hand to search for the ointment, outstretching his arm in your direction.

His words, supposedly his way of flirting, carried a much softer and genuine tone to it, causing your heart to swoon. Another smile touched your lips like a soft bloom, then soon brightened as Jeonghan leaned forward to get a better view of it.

“You're hurt, and you're busy flirting.” You laughed softly, reaching out to take his hand after you found the ointment.

“It's in my blood.” He boasted with a grin, finding solace in your feather-light hands that held his.

“I can tell.”

Jeonghan leaned back, grinning from ear-to-ear with satisfaction at your response. He began to move his hand weirdly and avoid the ointment you were about to apply, reaching out to wrap his fingers around your hand tightly instead.

“Hannie, will you stop and let me do this peacefully?” You lift your gaze, sighing softly as your eyes meet his amused ones. For a minute or two, he stayed still with an unexplainable expression on his face, staring at you.

But the way he gazed at you clearly held sweetness, longing and the secrets to making you feel cherished and loved.

He finally opened his mouth to say something, but the one calling you was, unfortunately, faster than him.

‘Can't help it, I'm so hopelessly in love with you.’ those words, that he thought would be his next ones, were interrupted.

Jeonghan paused as your phone started to ring, cutting through the comfortable and sensitive moment shared between you two. With a sigh, your gaze dropped to his hand before looking away.

Grabbing your phone from the coffee table, you glance at the name flashing on your screen.

“It's my friend,” you say, briefly looking at Jeonghan. He smiled with a quiet rassurance, nodding subtly.

“Don't move around too much, I'll be back.” You added, getting up from the couch to head to your room. Jeonghan whispered a soft ‘okay’ in response, watching as you entered your room and disappeared from sight. 

As soon as you left, a gust of air left his lips and he placed a hand over his chest to soothe his over-excited heart. A phone call was probably the last thing he'd expect to ruin this moment that was unfolding perfectly. All he could do was wait for you, and the realisation settled over Jeonghan like a horror—it would take everything in him to build up the same tension in the room again.

Maybe, today wasn't the perfect day. Or it probably was, but a phone call wasn't happy with that news.

The indistinct faint sounds of you chatting with your friend was the only thing preventing a dreadful silence. Jeonghan quietly listened to the conversation even though the voices were muffled, a smile flickering across his lips as an immediate response to your joyful laughter.

He began to stare at the painting on the wall, his smile never bidding a goodbye from his lips. Your voice filled the silence, and his eyelids grew heavy, each blink a little slower, a little longer.

It was probably the influence of the long day he had enjoyed, or your voice that sounded sweet as honey that soon coaxed him into sleep. And there he was, his lips pouting ever so slightly unconsciously and his lashes touching the skin below his eyes.

This day was unfair. For his heart, and for the feelings he carried. He had the perfect chance to let you know about it, but it slipped away from his hands in the blink of an eye.

Maybe tomorrow. Or even the day after tomorrow.

──────୨୧ 1 MONTH LATER

You're confused.

It's been exactly 28 days, 12 hours and 34 minutes since you’ve learnt to accept the feelings you carry for Jeonghan, and yet, you're confused.

You could swear—the door that led to his heart was open for you always and all you had to do was walk in. But now, amidst the chaos in your mind, you're starting to doubt it.

Yes, you’ve gotten used to Jeonghan's constant, out-of-the-blue, flirting. But there was only so much you could take.

He would consistently invite you to join him for lunch and dinner, often surprising you by sneaking into your apartment just to share breakfast together. He had a way of calling you adorable names like pretty, love, baby, and sweetheart, among many others. He was always the first to notice when you weren't feeling your best, and never hesitated to shield you from the cold or anything else that might make you uncomfortable.

And that was it. Nothing more, nothing less. While you’re desperately waiting to know how genuine his feelings are. It feels like a suffocating wish buried in your heart, desperate to move forward to build a future. A promising future.

To be very, very specific, you're scared of his reaction. His reaction when you confess to him that you want more than just the casual heart-fluttering pick-up lines and smiles shared between you two, the ridiculously long time spent with each other, and the small and big gestures that make you question if it's normal for “friends” to do.

Maybe it's just the paranoia in you. You can't help but think of the worst responses you could receive. A rejection? It turns out that all the time you two spent together really meant nothing to him? Or worse, him straight up laughing at your face? How stupid would you look?

You want whatever you have with Jeonghan to be a future. And for that, you'd have to tell him, you'd have to confront him about it. But at the same time, the consequences that may come along with a risky decision you take was like a burden—telling you to keep your feelings just where they are.

The question is, for how long? For how long can you stay quiet with butterflies dancing in your stomach when you catch the way the corners of his pink lips curve into an ethereal smile?

For the past week, Jeonghan has been busy. Caught up with work, leaving the apartment early, arriving late at night and barely having the time to even eat. Yet, he always took the time to text you about his day.

Whether it was early in the morning or midnight when he arrived at his apartment, he'd let you know about the smallest things. Even during work hours, he would glance at you every five minutes and smile warmly, sending your heart into a spiral. However, whenever you two could talk to each other, it was always through the phone. It had been a while since the last face-to-face conversation.

So, you decided to plan a small hangout after work at his favourite cafe as a way to make up for each other. Usually, Jeonghan would be the one to plan these things, but you realised he was really not capable of doing so at the moment.

Especially with the messed up sleep schedule? Definitely, no.

The problem is that Jeonghan's extra work hours had ended hours ago, and the seat across from you was still empty.

You’ve memorised the advertising clips that looped on the big screen of the cafe, the pattern of the workers as they entered the kitchen once and checked up on the customers the next second—you have been waiting here for so long.

Again, with an exhausted sigh that escaped your lips, you glanced at the time on the watch that adorned your wrist, and to make sure your watch wasn't wrong, you looked at the clock on the wall too, only to be met with the same result.

It wasn't supposed to bother you that much, but it did. It really did. It bothered you so much to the point you could feel your eyes getting teary at the sheer thought of Jeonghan forgetting about you as you stared out of the window.

Did he really forget about today?

You gulp down the lump in your throat, let out a shaky breath and stand up to your feet, beginning to step towards the entrance of the cafe.

Pressing your lips into a thin line, your mind recalled the last message you sent Jeonghan that had been left unanswered.

“Aren't you gonna come? It's past work hour…”

As simple of a question as that, yet it wasn't answered. Perhaps, and hopefully his phone’s battery had died. But he would've been here with you if that was the case. But otherwise, even a phone call to let you know he is caught up with something would have been… nice.

The gloomy and unpleasant night weather that probably held a heavy rainfall behind its dark clouds catches your attention as you step out of the cafe. It wasn't any different from your mood right now. Bracing your unshed tears and thoughts together with a sniffle, you begin to walk down the street steadily, having no other destination than the comfort of your home.

However, as luck has a habit of testing you everytime, the sky brought together each and every thundering cloud to drizzle gently, hiding a downpour just a minute away.

Using your bag to shield your face from the drizzle, you picked up your pace, aimlessly running straight. After some minutes, you finally realised the intensity of the rain growing and sprinted to the nearest shelter you could find, huffing and puffing.

You catch up with your breathing, frantically looking around in hopes to find a cab. Your gaze stopped just on three people inside the arcade as they cheered one of them to win a plushie from the claw machine.

Your heart dropped.

The one they were cheering for was none other than Jeonghan.

“There, I'm going now.” Jeonghan announced, already reaching out to grab his coat from his colleague’s hands.

“No, wait! Just play one more time!” A female colleague insisted, reaching out to tug at his sleeve with a pout. His gaze dropped to her hand, a sigh leaving his lips.

“Right, just one more!” The male colleague added, holding Jeonghan's coat a little tighter to prevent him from snatching it.

“I gotta go, it's important.” He explained, gently and smoothly moving his hand away from the female colleague’s reach.

“More important than us?” She questioned, her voice dropping to a lower tone. Without hesitation, Jeonghan responded with a “yes” and grabbed his coat.

He swung it around his shoulder, sliding in his arms through the sleeves. “Try it yourselves too, It's not difficult to grab a plushie.”

“That's not the point—”

“어머, the rain is going crazy.” The male colleague’s voice rose in surprise as he gawked at the rain pounding against the window, followed by the noises of the drastic change in intensity of the rain.

Jeonghan whipped his head, his eyes widening gradually as the realisation settled over him.

You were probably still waiting for him.

His gaze lingered outside for a moment before he looked towards the left slightly, pausing immediately. His eyes took in the sight of someone familiar. Before he could even register the fact that it was you standing outside, looking at him with an unexplainable expression of hurt and disbelief, he turned around to face the window fully—lips parted, a flicker of surprise in his eyes.

“Y/n…” he breathed, knowing he had messed up. Really, really badly.

Even from a distance, Jeonghan caught the way your eyes were flooded with unshed tears. As soon as you looked away, his heart shattered into a million pieces, the urgent need to hold you in his arms taking over him like an overwhelming tidal wave crashing over a fragile shore.

He stood there frozen, desperate yet hesitant to run to you. But when you began to walk away even in the thundering rain, he reacted faster than he ever had—sprinting towards the exit of the arcade, ignoring his colleagues as they called out for him.

“Y/n!” He yelled, coming to a halt just outside the building. The distant fog and rain blurred his vision ever so slightly, but he continued to chase after you. A tear rolled down your cheek as you heard his voice—his tone urgent, yet never failing to carry the softness which you fell for. But your heart was stubborn, telling you to keep walking ahead without looking back.

When Jeonghan realised that you weren't about to slow down, his pace fastened. The puddle water he had been avoiding to keep his clothes from getting muddy was splashed everywhere as he stepped into them with his rushing feet.

He couldn't care less about the mud. Not when you were walking away from him. And he knew he had to stop you, explain to you.

He lunged forward with his arm to grab your hand, forcing you to come to a halt.

“What are you doing? You’ll get a cold if you—” he began with the worry of your health, his eyebrows knitted together and all the emotions visible in his eyes that he was supposed to hide.

“No, I'm fine.” You respond, your tone unusually and heart-achingly cold as you jerk his hand off. Jeonghan felt the slightest hint of hope present in him get washed away with the overwhelming rain, leaving behind nothing but the ache caused by your sharp words.

The way your gaze refused to look away from the ground to atleast make an eye contact with him, how your actions were unusually harsh when you jerked his hand off—he caught it, and that small detail held him back from saying anything further.

No more words exchanged, and you turned to walk away again. But as the realisation dawned on him that this small misunderstanding could create a bigger problem to the point he won't be able to be by your side, he rushed after you again.

“Will you listen to me? Please?” Jeonghan coaxed, his voice soft like the delicate petals of a rose. His fingers brushed against your forearm, hesitant to reach out for you.

“I didn't forget about it. I could never forget about it, you know that. My colleagues wanted me to accompany them for a moment and I was supposed to go to you after that but then—” He paused, his steps impatient as he walked behind you.

“Are you listening? Please let me expla—” Jeonghan stepped infront of you, desperate to make himself heard.

“Can't you understand that I'm fine!?” You yelled, your harsh and cruel voice ripping through his soft and tender one. All the emotions you had been carrying snapped in the form of anger.

Jeonghan flinched.

His hand, that was reaching out for you earlier, dropped back to his side. His eyes, that carried softness earlier, were now looking into yours as if he had been wounded. By your words.

A strange, but strong feeling of agony surged throughout his entire body, threatening to spill in the form of tears. Where your eyes had been glaring and unwavering, meeting his tender, hurt ones brought a subtle but noticeable change. The weight of your words began to settle, easing the intensity of your stare.

Slowly, almost with guilt, your gaze drifted away from him and dropped to the ground. It felt like darts being thrown at his heart—violent, merciless and sharp. The rain's soft illusion had shattered. Now, it hammered down like accusing stones, each impact a physical echo of your brutal words that were crushing his soul.

To intensify the stinging feeling in your heart, silence soon followed—making the tension so much more palpable along with the loud thudding of the rain. The unbearable silence gave way to your voice, now a low whisper that seemed to carry the guilt and weight of your words that had slipped from your lips unwillingly.

“Just… just leave me alone. I don't want to see you right now.” You gulped the lump in your throat, folding your fingers in a tight fist. The words were simple, but an excuse to hide the threatening tears behind your eyes that could overflow at any moment now. Without another word, you step forward, ready to run away to somewhere.

Somewhere you could hide yourself. From the cruelty of your words that filled your heart with guilt.

But Jeonghan wasn't willing to let go. Not in this weather, not at this moment. Even if it was a fine sunny morning, he would still hold onto you like a lifeline forever.

His hand reacted sooner than you could, grabbing your hand as soon as you stepped forward. He didn't turn to look at you—probably overwhelmed by his emotions that he, for the first time in a while, was unable to take control of.

You paused, and he gently pulled you back, his gaze lingering on your wrist that adorned the specific bracelet he had gifted you.

“Why… why do you not want to see me right now?” His voice was low and almost plain, the genuine curiosity but disbelief audible in his tone. Your fingers ached to wrap around his hand and embrace the warmth of it to stop the throbbing of your heart, but for the first time ever, you hesitated.

Gathering the courage to meet his eyes, you felt your composure falter for a second. “Let me go.” You breathed, but made no effort to shrug his hand off.

“No, I won't let you go. Not until I know why you're so desperate to… to get away from me.” If his voice wasn't quiet enough, it lowered even more on the last word.

That was it.

A question—whose answer you've failed to find—caused the tears welling up behind your eyes to finally roll down your cheeks slowly.

You don't know why you're running away from him. Out of everything, you didn't want your feelings to get to you this much.

You stared down at his delicate hands that, even in this moment, held yours with the same gentleness you're fond of. Your mind was a chaos of thoughts, ready to spill in reckless words. But you held back, putting each and every word together to form the softest way to express your emotions.

“Why are you holding my hand so… so—” you whispered, stuck in the mess of your own feelings and overflowing tears. Jeonghan’s eyes stayed glued to you as they soon softened when you struggled to form words. He gazed down—observing the way your hands trembled against his.

“Gently..?” Your voice cracked, and your burning tears grew into a burden behind your eyes. Jeonghan lifted his gaze slowly, feeling his heart shatter into pieces by the way you sounded so helpless and lost. Your words echoed in his ears, leaving him confused and eager to understand you.

“I’m really confused… really, really confused.” You breathed, your other hand reaching up to wipe your tears away. You gulped down the lump in your throat along with your sobs, and the rain seemed to quiet down as if to let the whole world be aware of your vulnerability.

Jeonghan couldn't understand. For the first time, he couldn't understand your words. You were crying, you were vulnerable, you needed to be protected. Yet, he couldn't pull you into his arms.

What if you shrugged his hands off? What if you refused to even look at him if he tried to comfort you? What if, under this rain, his hands couldn't warm your cold ones anymore?

“I'm tired, Jeonghan, I'm— I'm tired…” you cried out softly, your hands slipping away from his grip. “I'm tired of trying to find out what I mean to you. I'm tired of waiting to know if I even mean anything to you,”

There they were. The words that had been stinging, rotting in your heart, waiting to be spoken to him.

“If I don't, then—” you sobbed, your mind racing at the next words. “Then why did you let me fall for you!?”

Your voice raised instantly, and you slapped his chest—gently, yet enough to tell him the weight of your emotions—bursting into tears loudly. Jeonghan’s breath hitched. The cut in his heart deepened—slowly, steadily and intensely.

The world seemed to slow down, the moon only shining on the two of you. His eyes widened ever so slightly, carrying each and every word’s significance in unshed tears.

He stared as you cried your heart out, his eyes heaving with warm tears and an unexplainable look. The heavy rain that had felt like darts against his skin earlier, now nothing in comparison to your precious and aching tears.

All this time, all this damn time, you were ready to be his. And he was out in the dark, searching for the light of your smile that kept him wrapped around your finger. But amidst the chaos of his countless failed attempts to be yours, he missed the constant, beautiful curve of your lips whenever he was by your side, when it was the only thing he yearned for. To be the reason for your laughter and smiles.

The hesitation in his system that had been dragging him down had vanished into thin air, leaving behind nothing but his longing to hold you close and tight. Without giving it another thought, he stepped forward and engulfed you in his embrace. His grip around you was strong, protective and loving, his warm neck touching your skin softly.

Your tears continued to flow uncontrollably as you sobbed and sniffled on his shoulder. One of his hands patted your back slowly and gently while the other cradled your head. Jeonghan felt his own tears start to roll down his cheeks, but he is quick enough to hold them back.

“Why didn't you just push me away or disappear…” you blubbered, your voice a little gentler, softer now. Jeonghan inhaled deeply, pulling away just enough to look you in the eye.

“How can I?” He whispered, his breath warm against your skin. You finally lifted your gaze, staring into his deep, loving eyes.

“How can I push you away or disappear when you're my lifeline?”

There. That alone was the answer to all your questions, but the way those words touched his lips—genuine, certain and overwhelmingly gentle—left no more room for doubts in your heart.

His voice was always soft, especially with you. But this time, at this moment, even the softness seemed too overly sweet for you to process. If it weren't for his dreamy eyes that you were lost in, you would've cried once again, unable to handle it.

“You're my lifeline, Y/n. And I'm sorry… I'm so sorry I took so long to say this,” he apologized, reaching out to cup your cheeks with one hand.

“I never knew you were waiting for me. Because if I did, maybe I wouldn't get lost in those playful moments, taking everything so slow and for granted.”

Your eyes stayed glued to eachother, and your heartbeat fastened like never before, eager to hear his next words. Jeonghan’s eyes softened even more as if time had slowed down, the universe guiding both of you toward eachother’s hearts.

“I love you. I've loved you for the longest I can remember. I feel like a coward for not saying it sooner, but I'm so madly in love with you it drives me insane—”

Jeonghan would've rambled about his feelings for a little longer, letting you know about each and everything about how he feels. If your soft lips hadn't touched his rain-soaked ones out-of-the-blue and sent him into a spiral, he would have.

He froze, feeling the ground beneath his feet shake and the world around him spin.

You pecked his lips, and the corner of your lips curved into a small smile.

He stared at you like you were insane—eyes widened, lips parted and jaw about to touch the ground. He tried to form words, but they came out as nothing but stupid stutters.

“Wha— why did you—”

“Go on, I liked listening to how much you love me.” You chuckled, a soft but bright smile playing on your lips—a complete contrast to earlier. It was the way he sounded so genuine, so in love just like you—you couldn't help but feel giddy.

Jeonghan didn't move nor say anything, but his gaze was locked onto yours, an unexplainable look on his face. Then, as if the world had turned upside down, he pulled you in by the waist. And the next thing you know—

His lips were firmly, yet softly pressed against yours. The first thought that crossed your mind was the fact that his lips were so tender and sweet, perfectly resting against yours. He didn't move his lips, allowing himself to get familiar with the warmth of your lips.

It felt like a dream come true. All the emotions and feelings both of you had been bottling up within yourselves finally burst out so sweetly that your one-month-ago self wouldn't believe it. It was lovely, it was beautiful, and most importantly, it was what you always yearned for.

Reluctantly, Jeonghan pulled away, a newfound twinkle in his eyes. As your gaze locked, your eyes began to tear up again, causing the man infront of you to panic.

“What's wrong?” He asked softly, his thumb grazing your tear-stained cheek. You shook your head, lifting your hands to rest on his shoulders.

“Nothing. I feel bad for raising my voice like that…” you mumbled, your voice laced with guilt. At that, Jeonghan let out a chuckle, mirroring the pout on your lips.

He pulled you in for another hug, rocking you like a baby. “But I'm glad you did. Because if this didn't happen today, I doubt we’d have the courage for tomorrow.”

A soft smile bloomed on your lips, your heart satisfied with his words of reassurance. You never thought this day would come, but it did. And you don't think you could thank the universe more.

For some minutes that felt like hours, the two of you continued to hug, letting each other embrace the warmth that radiated from your newfound relationship. Jeonghan thought he'd get to spend more time with you—as a way to celebrate—but when you complained about feeling cold and wanting to rest, his hopes were shattered in a second.

The realisation dawned on him—the two of you had been drenched in the rain. Something that had completely slipped out of his mind this whole time.

So, begrudgingly, he pushed all his ‘romantic’ thoughts aside and focused on walking back to the apartment. The entire time you were walking hastily, in a desperate need to change out of the uncomfortable clothes, there was Jeonghan on the other hand who was taking his time ‘admiring the view.’

Although you'd usually tell him to fasten his pace, a part of you completely understood his feelings. And so, your grip on his hand tightened every time he sighed.

Soon enough, you were already infront of your apartment building while he stood there, glaring at it.

“Let's go,” you tugged on his arm, reminding him of his surroundings with a soft laugh. He shifted his gaze on you, his eyes softening as a small pout played on his lips.

“Stop sulking, come on~” you softly sing-sang, dragging him towards the entrance of the building. A whine left his lips and his eyes closed, already hating the view.

Upon reaching the elevator, you let out a groan after seeing the ‘out of service' sign.

“See? Even the elevators want you to stay with me for sometime!” Jeonghan seized the opportunity to make his point sound valid, wiggling his eyebrows with a grin.

“Stairs!” You chirp, pointing towards a specific direction. Before his eyes could follow, you were already dragging him to the staircase, ready to walk all the way to the 4rd floor.

He complained, although he was fully aware it wasn't useful.

While your steps were stable and steady, Jeonghan was sighing, wobbling and reluctantly climbing the stairs. If it weren't for you dragging him with all your power, he would've stood there the whole night until you agreed to spend more time with him.

“Come on, don't be like that,” you sigh, letting go of his hand as you reach the 4th floor.

Jeonghan’s shoulders slumped as he hung his arms loosely, gazing at you with sad puppy eyes. You couldn't help the chuckle that left your lips.

“Please…” he mumbled, pouting his lips and exaggerating.

“I know you're sleepy, your eyes are heavy.” You sighed. He realised just after you pointed it out, actually feeling drowsy now. Although the pout on his lips didn't disappear, he straightened his posture and reached out to rub his eyes.

You smiled, finding his small actions adorable. Before you could hold yourself back, you tiptoed just a little to peck his cheek and ruffled his hair.

“Goodnight, I'll see you tomorrow.” Your voice and sudden act so loving and gentle, it sent shivers down his spine. He immediately froze, his eyes refusing to blink. With a silly grin, you turned away to walk to your front door. Even after you had reached there, Jeonghan stood there dumbfounded, his hazy mind trying to register everything taking place.

“Don't keep standing there the whole night, you'll catch a cold.” You reminded him, shooting a smile in his direction when he snapped his head to look at you with wide eyes and parted lips. You had just stepped in your apartment, closing the door half-way until Jeonghan barged in, slamming it open against the wall.

“I— what are yo—”

“You can't just leave like that!” Jeonghan complained, his energy level having burst out of its maximum bar.

“Leave like what?” You teased, your words and tone feeling like stinging pokes at his heart. His face ridiculously heats up, his red cheeks and ears giving it all away.

He stepped in, gradually closing the door behind him. Now, it was your heart that was getting poked.

“Why are you closing that—” you stammered, backing away from his menacing smirk. He kept stepping forward, the mischievous glint in his eyes just growing each second.

“I'm sleeping here today!” He suddenly chirped, his giggles replacing the silence around you. You watch as he zooms from the front door to the couch, jumping on it and laying on his stomach as he flaps his arms like a bird.

A scoff of disbelief left your lips, embarrassed at the way he managed to make your cheeks all red just with that subtle closeness. But a smile of fondness soon replaced your lips as you took in the sight of an overly happy and excited Jeonghan.

“Hey! You were literally drenched in rain, don't sleep on the couch like that!” you whined, throwing your bag away somewhere as you rushed to get him off your couch.

“So were you!” He argued back, laughing at the way you were grabbing him by his collar.

“Get off or else you’ll have to be the one washing the covers for one whole month!” You yelled in between laughs, shaking him back and forth. Then, just as he felt that he was losing, he pulled his ultimate weapon and began to poke your sides with an ‘adorable-but-annoying’ grin.

“Stop, that's cheating!—”

His arms suddenly wrapped around your waist, pulling you against him.

He had successfully seized the opportunity once again.

“I'll wash the covers for one whole year, let's just stay like this, please?” He asked, a gentle and genuine smile touching his lips. Your heart melted, washing all of your other thoughts away. His arms around you felt protective, safe and gentle.

Who were you to deny him?

You rested your head on his chest, smiling. That was more than an answer for him. His smile grew, his hold tightening around you. After a moment of comfortable silence, you spoke.

“You better keep your promise,” you say, tapping his shoulder with your hand. He glanced down just enough to get a glimpse of your eyes before ruffling your hair.

“Do you think I'll miss the chance to stay with you for one whole year?”

You blinked, finally realising. “You’re crazy!”

Jeonghan burst into laughter, holding you tightly to keep you from getting up or getting away. 

You really, really couldn't lie. The idea of staying with him for another year (or the rest of your life) sounded too tempting.

You might as well try it out?

[READ THE EPILOGUE !!] © kissbyoon 2025. taglist: @ateez-atiny380 @haotelmania @jeonghaniehaee @starshuas @woncheecks @zahrareadsstuff @imhereonlytoreadxoxo @himewonu @fancypeacepersona @lavunyan @inseonqt @https-seishu @technicallyleftkoala @viciousdarlings @tournesol155 @metaphorandmoonlight @nonbanhg @justanotherkpopstanlol @lily409

You were on your knees, carefully gathering eggs into a wicker basket, trying your best not to get pecked. The hens, as usual, were not cooperating. One particularly feisty Rhode Island Red was perched on a nesting box, glaring at you like you were trying to steal her firstborn.

“Come on, Goldie,” you muttered, reaching a hand out slowly. “Just one little egg. We'll split the profits.”

Just as you finally managed to coax her off the box, you heard loud footsteps and frantic shouts of your name. Seungkwan, your neighbor, came running in with his face flushed and his hair a mess.

“You won't believe it!” he panted, doubling over to catch his breath. “The town is going crazy! There's a weird guy out there and he's asking for you!”

You sighed, carefully placing an egg in your basket. “Seungkwan, I'm busy. The chickens need me. Goldie is giving me a serious side-eye. So I'm sure you know that means I don't have time for—”

“But you don't understand!” he insisted, grabbing your arm. "He's gorgeous! Like, movie star gorgeous! And he's on a giant white horse and he's got hair down to his shoulders! Golden hair! And he says he's a prince from some other world! Nonsense, I know but why's he looking for you?!”

You scoffed. “Seungkwan, he's probably another con man you all have to fight. Now go on, I've got work to do.” You shooed him away with a flick of your wrist, but you couldn't help feeling a little curious. A long-haired prince on a horse? The image was ridiculous, but intriguing.

You turned back to your work, an egg in one hand and your other arm wrapped around a plump hen, when a new sound cut through the clucking—the loud clip-clop of hooves on dirt. You looked up, straightening your posture and nearly forgot to breathe.

Moving slowly towards you from the far end of the farm was a sight straight out of a fairytale. A man with flowing, light blonde hair was sitting atop a majestic white horse. He was dressed in clothes that looked twice his size but not shabby. He was incredibly handsome, and he was a stranger.

The horse stopped just a little far from you, and the man dismounted with an effortless grace. He took a single step toward you, and in that moment, you saw it.

The small mole just under his right eye, a tiny speck you had always loved. His eyes, the same warm, brown eyes you had memorized over countless dates five years ago.

The egg slipped from your hand, shattering on the dirt floor. The hen you were holding squawked in surprise, fluttering out of your grasp. Your mouth opened to say something, but no words came out. You were frozen, your brain struggling to process the impossible truth standing before you.

The man didn't hesitate. A wide, relieved smile broke across his face as he walked the last few feet and pulled you into the tightest hug you’d ever received.

If you still knew what breathing felt like, you'd forgotten it now.

The scent of him—a mix of fresh air, horse, and something you couldn't place—flooded your senses. In his arms, all your doubts and denial dissolved. The feel of his body, the way he held you like he had been searching forever…

It was him. It was Jeonghan. Your past lover.

You were curled into a tight ball in the corner of your room, your knees tucked up to your chest. The farm noises from outside seemed muffled and far away because all you heard was your own heart beating loudly in your chest.

Your eyes were fixed on a spot on the wall, and your mind replayed a scene you had worked so hard to forget.

It was the last time you saw him.

He was laughing, telling a silly joke as he left your doorstep, promising to see you the next day. But the next day never came. He just vanished. You called, you texted, you drove past his house a hundred times. You made up every excuse for him, trying to protect your heart. Maybe his phone died, he had to move away for family, he lost his number. But eventually, you had to face the truth. He ghosted you.

You remembered the sleepless nights, the days where you couldn't eat, the way your friends had to drag you out of bed just to get you to face the world. It had taken so long to heal and to build a life where his absence wasn't a burden on your chest.

And now he was back. But not as the boy who ghosted you. He was back as a strange, beautiful man with a story about being a prince in another world.

He changed. The soft charm of his boyhood was gone. He looked confident now, having a gaze that held a lifetime of untold stories.

The way he held you a while ago, the strength in his arms, his scent—it all made the past five years feel like a cruel joke. He was back, yet it felt like he never left, and that thought was terrifying.

Suddenly, a loud bang on your door shattered the silence.

“Hey! Are you okay there?! Why did you just run away!” Seungkwan's voice was loud from the other side. “He's all upset! He's yelling and begging you not to cry and that he just wants to talk!”

Another series of heavy bangs rattle the door frame. You didn't know what to do. The sound was too much. The thought of facing him was too much. You grabbed the two biggest, fluffiest pillows from your bed and pressed them hard against your ears, blocking out the noise. You squeezed your eyes shut, desperately wishing everything would just go back to normal, back to a world where a beautiful stranger on a white horse wasn't turning your life upside down.

For a few next days to follow, the world shrank to the four walls of your room. Your house was a small place tucked into the expanse of your farm, but right then, it felt like the walls were the only things holding you together. Days blurred into one another and you stayed locked inside.

You only opened the door a crack when you heard Seungkwan's soft knock. He never tried to force his way in. He just slid a plate of food onto the floor and gave you a status update, his voice always full of concern.

“He's still there,” he whispered on the first day, the sound of your own silence so loud in your head. “Just sitting on the porch. Doesn't talk to anyone else. It's so weird.”

On the second day, a new update came with a bowl of your favorite pasta. “I told him to go home,” Seungkwan said, “and he just looked at me with those big eyes and said, 'This is my home.' I think he's lost his mind.”

By the third day, the updates changed. “Okay, so he's… helping,” Seungkwan said, his voice full of disbelief. “He's cleaning the stables. The chickens love him. I think he thinks he's a Disney princess or something.”

Each day, you heard Seungkwan’s voice, and each day, you stuffed the food into your mouth, your heart aching with the image of him waiting. He was still there. He hadn't left. And the thought of it made you want to cry, but you were too tired for tears.

Finally, on the fourth day, you realized you couldn't stay cooped up forever. You needed to see with your own eyes what was happening on your farm. You quietly waited until the familiar sounds of Seungkwan's footsteps faded away, and then you opened the door and stepped outside.

The cool air felt strange and new against your skin. You took a slow walk through the farm, checking on the animals. The sheep looked content, and the chickens seemed happy. Everything was exactly as it should be, as if the past four days hadn't even happened.

And then you saw him.

He was kneeling in the pen with your goats, his long golden hair catching the sunlight. He had a handful of feed and was giggling softly as a baby goat nibbled at his hand. He looked so completely at peace, so innocent and endearing, his simple clothes now dusty and a little stained from the farm.

The sight of him pained you. The boy you remembered, the one who loved to play with your animals and laugh with you… he was still there. The urge to run to him, to throw yourself into his arms and just hold on, was overwhelming.

It was in that moment that he looked up, his eyes catching yours from across the pen. You saw the desperate plea etched on his face as he started to get up, your name on his lips, but you didn't stay to hear it.

You turned on your heel and sprinted back to the one place you felt safe, and slammed the door behind you.

The sun streamed in through your window, and for the first time in days, the light didn’t feel heavy. You were tired of being a prisoner in your own home. The groceries were running low, and you weren't about to put your life on hold because a past love decided to waltz back into your life. You had to eat, you had to live, and you had to buy milk.

You crept to the window and peeked outside. The farmyard was quiet. The goats were bleating softly, and the chickens were pecking at the ground. No sign of Jeonghan. He must have given up, you thought, feeling a strange mix of relief and disappointment. You quickly grabbed your purse, made a mental list of essentials, and headed for town.

The town square was its usual bustling self, but as you approached the corner shop, you heard a familiar, raised voice. It was Mrs. Park, the town’s most enthusiastic gossip, and she sounded very upset. You stopped short, your gaze drawn to the center of a small crowd. There, looking completely out of his element, was Jeonghan.

He was standing agitated, his long hair shining under the afternoon sun, as Mrs. Park and a few other elderly ladies lectured him. He looked confused and annoyed, holding up his hands in a gesture of surrender.

“You lived here, you say? And you're a prince?” Mrs. Kim scoffed, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. “Nonsense! I’ve lived in this town for sixty-five years and I never saw a boy with such long golden hair! We don’t know any Jeonghan!”

“It is me, though!” Jeonghan answered, his voice not straining for one second. “I’ve just been away for a very long time. I came back from another kingdom! That’s why everything is so different.”

The ladies just stared at him, their skepticism practically radiating off of their postures. Mrs. Park poked him in the shoulder with a finger. "You're a conman, young man! Trying to sell us some tall tale. You're not from around here."

You knew you shouldn't, but you couldn’t just stand there and watch. Taking a deep breath, you pushed your way through the small crowd.

“Hello ladies!” you said, your voice firm but friendly. “What’s all this fuss about?”

The ladies turned to you, annoyed at Jeonghan but still happy to see you. “This young man here is a troublemaker, dear,” Mrs. Park said, gesturing to Jeonghan. “Says he’s a prince and his name is Yoon Jeonghan. I told him we don’t know any Jeonghan.”

You put a hand on Jeonghan’s arm, a simple gesture that felt huge to you. You were touching him after years, and it sparked something in you. “Of course you do. This is Jeonghan. My friend. He’s the Jeonghan we all used to hang out with five years ago. Remember? The one who used to help me with the animals? The one who got his head stuck in the fence trying to get a stray kitten?”

You practically saw the ladies’ faces softening into remembrance, and it was funny how quickly they calmed down.

“Oh… that Jeonghan?” Mrs Kim said, her tone completely changing. “He used to bring me fresh-baked cookies every Sunday!”

Mrs. Park’s eyes widened as she looked at Jeonghan’s face, then his hair. “Goodness gracious! I knew that face looked familiar, but the hair! You were just a sweet little thing with short hair back then!”

The hostility in the air evaporated completely. All the ladies started cooing over him, touching his hair and commenting on how much he had grown.

“Look at you! All grown up now!” Mrs. Park exclaimed, patting his cheek. “My goodness, and that hair is just beautiful! You look so handsome!”

Jeonghan just stared at you, his eyes wide with shock and gratitude. The ladies' words seemed to be a language he understood far better than their accusations.

You sighed. You had just dug yourself even deeper into this ridiculous situation, but at least he wasn’t being run out of town anymore. You pulled him gently through the crowd, heading towards the grocery store, and for the first time in days, Jeonghan was finally smiling.

The walk back to the farm after you bought groceries was just as ridiculous as you had imagined. You walked with your grocery bags digging into your hands, and beside you, Jeonghan walked with his beautiful white horse trailing along like an obedient puppy. He was happy with a soft smile on his face, occasionally patting the horse’s neck as if this were a perfectly normal evening stroll.

“So, you’re just staying with Seungkwan?” you said, breaking the strained silence that had settled between you.

He nodded, his smile growing wider. “Yeah. He’s been very kind. Said I could stay as long as I needed to. And I spend all day at the farm, of course.”

You shot him a look. “Of course.” You couldn’t help but roll your eyes. The man had only been here for a few days, and already he had turned your quiet life into a public spectacle. “You know, you’re lucky Mrs. Park and Mrs. Kim didn’t call the police. Going around town telling everyone you’re a prince is not exactly the best way to get people on your side.”

He sighed, his shoulders slumping a little. “I know. I tried. But they just didn’t believe me. You did, though. You saved me.” He looked at you, his eyes full of earnest gratitude, and for a moment, you felt guilty for ever ignoring him.

“I just told them a story they could understand,” you muttered, trying to ignore the warmth spreading through your chest. “No one’s going to believe you unless you stop with the whole prince act.”

You finally reached the gate of your farm. The sight of your home made you feel a little steadier. You dropped the groceries on the ground, ready to get inside and lock the door on this entire situation once again.

Jeonghan stopped you, placing a hand gently on your arm. “Please,” he uttered in a desperate voice. “Give me a chance to explain. I’ll tell you everything. Just… listen to me once, Y/N.”

You looked at his sincere face and a weary sigh escaped you. It was time for this to end, one way or another. So, you looked him dead in the eyes and said, “Go on. Explain.”

He hesitated, his gaze darting to the horse, to the sky, to the ground and everywhere all at once. His jaw tightened, and he visibly struggled to find the words. The grand, ridiculous story was right there on his face, but he just couldn't seem to say it. Finally, he took a deep breath.

“I traveled to another universe,” he blurted out, the words sounding even more unbelievable spoken aloud.

A deafening silence hung in the air for what felt like a full minute. You looked at him, then at the sky, then back at his earnest, hopeful face. Then you started to laugh. A loud laugh that bordered on hysteria. It was just too perfect, too absurd.

You patted his shoulder, still giggling. “Right. And I’m the queen of England, trying to escape the paparazzi.” With that, you scooped up your groceries and turned, slamming the door shut on your house with a firm thud, leaving him standing alone in the yard with his majestic, ridiculous horse.

The world outside your door could have been ending for all you knew. You stayed locked in your room for the rest of the day, while the sunlight shifted from bright to gold to a deep lavender outside your window, marking the relentless passage of time you wished you could stop. You just sat on the floor, your back pressed against the door, and your thoughts ran a marathon in your head.

You heard Seungkwan’s hesitant footsteps a few times. He knocked, then spoke through the wood. “Hey! I left some dinner for you! It’s still warm. You gotta eat something.” You never responded. You just waited for the silence to return.

And it did. For a long time, you only heard the chirp of crickets starting their evening song. You closed your eyes, feeling the ache of exhaustion from so much emotional turmoil.

Then, a new voice greeted your ears. It was soft, right on the other side of the door, and filled with a yearning that made your heart clench.

“Princess?”

The name hit you in all the right places—a whisper you hadn't heard in five years. A name no one else ever called you. Your eyes flew open, and a tear you didn’t know you were holding back slid down your cheek. The simple sound of him felt like a hand reaching through the door and touching your very soul. You could feel his presence just inches away and the anger you had been clinging to disappeared in that single word.

Without a second thought, you pushed yourself to your feet, your hand finding the doorknob.

Jeonghan was right outside. He wasn’t a prince or a boy who had ghosted you; he was just Jeonghan, looking tired and hopeful. He took a hesitant step back, as if not quite believing you would let him in.

You didn't say a word. You simply stepped back and gestured for him to come inside. He walked in, his gaze darting around the familiar space as if seeing it for the first time. The door clicked shut behind him, sealing the two of you in a bubble of silence.

Finally, you turned to him. “Okay,” you said, your voice shaky but firm. “Tell me everything. From the beginning. But don’t tell me a fairytale, Jeonghan. Tell me the truth. Make me believe you.”

“You won’t believe me if I tell you,” he answered softly after a while, his gaze dropping to the floor. “I’ve tried telling the townspeople, Seungkwan… even you. The words just aren’t right.” He looked up, his eyes meeting yours with an intense determination this time. “I have to show you.”

You were confused, but the least you wanted to do was argue. Hence, you just followed him as he walked to the door. He led you out into the cool night air, the crickets singing a different song now, one that felt more like a prelude. The white horse was still waiting patiently in the yard.

Jeonghan helped you onto its back with an ease you hadn't expected. Then he mounted the horse behind you, his arms wrapping around your waist to hold the reins. The warmth of his body against your back was familiar and yet so foreign, nevertheless making your heart flutter in your chest. You didn't dare say a word. You just held on as he nudged the horse into a gentle canter, moving away from the safety of your farm and into the moonlit fields.

He didn't take you far. The horse came to a stop at the edge of the large, ancient willow tree in the outskirts of town. It was a spot you both knew well, a place you had carved your initials into as teenagers. A place you had spent countless hours under, dreaming of the future. You were about to ask why you were there, but then you saw it.

In the center of the tree's gnarled roots, where the ground was usually just dirt and moss, there was a faint, shimmering light. It pulsed with a soft glow, and as Jeonghan dismounted and led the horse closer, the light grew brighter. It didn't light up the area like a lamp. Instead, it felt like it was pulling the light from the moon and the stars, twisting it into a kaleidoscope of colors.

Jeonghan silently took your hand and led you to the shimmering portal. The light felt warm and a little tingly on your skin. You flinched, pulling away and looking at him, horrified. He sighed.

“Five years ago, I had a dream,” he began, his voice softer, but distant. “A dream that told me to come to this tree. My ridiculous desire to explore, I guess, was so strong that I must have sleepwalked here.” He paused, his gaze fixed on the shimmering light.

“I somehow woke up in another universe, in another life. The prince of that realm had just died, and for some reason, I… I was there to take his place because I had his face.”

He looked back at you, with a sad smile on his lips. “For me, it was only about a year. A whole year of figuring out how to be this other person, how to set things right there. But when I finally found my way back… five years had passed here. And all I wanted was to find my way back to you, princess.”

He gestured to the shimmering light with a solemn reverence. “This is the truth. This is what happened. And the only thing I wanted was to find my way back home to you.”

You stared at the shimmering light, then back at Jeonghan. You could feel your mind spinning in circles, trying to grasp the story he just narrated to you. It was so far-fetched it belonged in one of the books on your shelf. But the light… the light was real. It hummed with a strange power, and you could feel the goosebumps on your arms just being near it. You couldn't believe his story, but you couldn't believe he was lying either. The truth was somewhere in the middle, in a place your mind couldn't yet comprehend.

You slowly pulled your hand from his, the strange warmth of the portal lingering on your fingertips.

“I... I need time,” you finally said, your voice barely above a whisper. “I need to think.”

Jeonghan nodded with understanding in his eyes. He didn't push. He just quietly helped you back onto the horse, and you began the silent, surreal ride back to your home.

When you got back, you slid off the horse, your legs feeling weak beneath you. Jeonghan dismounted and led the horse toward the stables. “You can… you can keep him in the old paddock,” you said, your voice still so quiet you barely heard it yourself. He paused with his back to you, and you added, “And you… you can stay here. I… I don’t want you to sleep on the porch again.”

He turned to look at you, and you saw the relief in his eyes. He didn't say a word but just gave you a small, grateful nod.

You were too exhausted to say anything else, too overwhelmed to even feel relief. You walked into the house, and the silence of the night comforted you a little. You didn't bother changing your clothes or brushing your teeth. You just collapsed onto your bed, the weight of everything that had happened pressing down on you. You were asleep almost instantly, but later, in the deepest part of the night, you felt a soft weight on your forehead. You stirred, but your eyes didn't open. A tender kiss was placed there. You felt the warmth of Jeonghan’s presence for a moment longer before you heard the gentle rustle of clothes and the sound of a body settling onto the couch in your room.

The next few weeks fell into a strange rhythm. Your days were filled with the comforting routine of farm life. Milking the cows at dawn, feeding the chickens, mending fences. You fell back into your own world, but it wasn’t the world it had once been.

It was filled with Jeonghan. He started working with diligence, his hands quickly learning how to handle the chores. He fed the horses, mucked out the stables, and even seemed to have a natural way with the goats. He never pushed you, rather kept a respectful distance, ate the meals you left for him, and slept on the couch every night.

You liked that he gave you space, but you also grew restless. His presence was like a constant hammering under the surface of your life. The silence of your house was no longer peaceful; it was heavy with all the things you weren't saying. Your heart ached for the laughter you once shared with him, for the simple touch of his hand, for the boy who had disappeared. You saw how he had changed, how he had grown, but he was still the same person inside, and every day, the urge to talk to him grew stronger. You wanted to know everything. You wanted so much more, but you had no idea what that more even was.

You just stepped out of the henhouse with a full basket of eggs when you saw him under the evening sun. He was sitting on the porch steps with Seungkwan, the two of them sharing a bag of tangerines.

You assumed Seungkwan was telling a story, his hands gesturing wildly, and Jeonghan was laughing—something you hadn’t heard in years. He peeled a tangerine and offered a slice to Seungkwan with a carefree smile on his face. He looked so happy, so at home, and so completely real.

He looked up just then, his laughter dying on his lips as he saw you standing there, staring at him. His expression softened, his smile turning into a hopeful look.

Seungkwan looked between the two of you, and suddenly stood up. “Oh! Look at the time!” he said a little too loudly, stuffing a handful of tangerines into his pocket. “I’ve gotta go. See you two later!” He gave you a quick wave and darted off, leaving the two of you alone.

The silence returned, but this time, it was different.

For weeks, you had been waiting for him to come to you. But now, you knew what you had to do. You took a deep breath, and with the egg basket still in your hand, you started walking towards him.

The few feet of grass between you and him seemed to stretch on forever. Your heart pounded wildly against your ribs, and you felt warmth creep up your neck and into your cheeks. You didn't know what you were going to say. You just knew you had to get closer.

You finally stopped in front of him, looking at your shoes, at the egg basket, at the faded wood of the porch. Anywhere but at him.

He cleared his throat softly. “You could drop your basket, princess.”

Your eyes snapped up, a little confused. He was looking at the basket in your hand. “Oh,” you said, your voice barely a whisper. “Right.” You fumbled with it, nearly dropping an egg, before setting it carefully on the empty space beside him.

He smiled softly, and without a word, picked a tangerine from the bag Seungkwan had left. The scent of citrus filled the air as he offered you a slice, and you took it, your fingers brushing against his for just a second.

You sat down on the step next to him, the space between your shoulders feeling both vast and too small. You ate the tangerine slice slowly, the sweetness bursting on your tongue. “Thank you,” you mumbled, still not quite able to look at him.

He tilted his head to look at you, smiling softly like it was something permanent on his face.

You gulped, looking straight ahead with warmth spreading on your cheeks. “Seungkwan said you’ve been helping out a lot,” you said, the words feeling clumsy and inadequate.

Jeonghan chuckled, handing you another slice. “Someone had to. And I also wanted to let you know that I wasn’t going anywhere.”

You finally turned to look at him. He was carefully peeling another tangerine, still smiling and focused, like he knew you were studying him.

For the first time, you saw not the boy who left or the prince who returned, but just Jeonghan. He looked back at you, and you inevitably smiled a little.

Jeonghan finished peeling the tangerine and set the small, perfect pile of slices on the step between you. He didn't offer you one this time. Instead, his hand, which had been resting on his knee, slowly moved towards you.

You saw his movement out of the corner of your eye and your heart fluttered. You didn't move. You just watched as his fingers, calloused from weeks of farm work, gently brushed against your own. Even though the touch was tentative, a jolt of electricity shot through you.

In his gaze, all the questions and pain and wonder finally gave way to something else—something you recognised as longing.

He leaned in, slowly, giving you all the time in the world to pull away if you wanted to.

You didn't. You held your breath as he closed the last bit of space between you, and his lips met yours.

The kiss felt so hesitant, and full of a tenderness that made your knees feel weak. It tasted faintly of citrus you both had been consuming, and you couldn't help but feel a little hazy.

When he pulled back, you both just sat there for a moment, breathless, the last rays of sunlight turning your cheeks a soft pink. The tangerine slices sat untouched between you. It was only then that the real conversation began with a simple, hopeful gaze that said everything you had both been too afraid to say for years.

You didn't know how much time had passed after you kissed Jeonghan, but you both still  sat on the porch steps, the remnants of the tangerine peels scattered between you. The sun was dipping below the horizon, painting the sky in soft shades of orange and purple, and the sounds of the farm animals settling down for the night filled the air.

You were the first to move. You leaned your head against his shoulder, and with a soft sigh, you reached for his hand, your fingers lacing through his. He responded immediately, his arm coming to rest gently around your shoulders, pulling you into his comforting embrace. His warmth felt like a home you had been looking for, and for the first time in five years, you felt safe.

“Tell me everything,” you said softly, your voice no longer shaky or sarcastic, but full of genuine curiosity. “The whole story and the truth.”

And so he did. With the twilight sky painted behind him, he began to speak, the rumble of his voice vibrating gently against your cheek. He told you about the dream that led him to the willow tree five years ago. He described the jolt he felt as he woke up, no longer in your quiet town but in a world of high stone castles and strange, beautiful flowers. He talked about how he was discovered, and how, because of his resemblance to the recently deceased prince, he was forced to take on that identity.

He described his year in that other realm—the weight of a crown he never asked for, the customs and traditions he had to learn, the courtly intrigue that made every day a challenge for him. 

He told you about the people, the food, the different stars in the sky. But most of all, he told you about the constant loneliness he felt—a loneliness that was born from missing you. He explained how he had spent every day trying to find a way back, a way to reverse whatever had happened, and how the one year he spent there was five years for you.

You listened intently, nestled into his side, your hand remaining in his the entire time. As he spoke, the story began to feel less like fiction and more like a long, painful chapter in his life. To you, he was still just Jeonghan, the same boy who had been searching for you all along.

By the time he was done, the moon was high in the sky and the stars were beginning to appear. The air was cool now, but the space between you felt warm.

“So you see,” he said tilting his head to catch a sight of your face, “I didn’t ghost you. I never would have. The prince came back, but all he really ever wanted was to be with you again.”

His words rang in your ears as the most beautiful thing you had ever heard. You didn't dare move, for you were scared to find the truth in his eyes. But when you did lift your head slightly to look at him, you found a question in his gaze, as if still unsure if you believed him, if he was truly forgiven.

“I know,” you whispered, reaching up and. “I believe you.”

A wave of relief washed over his face, so powerful that it almost made you cry. He squeezed you tighter, burying his face in your hair. For a moment, neither of you spoke before you finally pulled back just enough to look at him again. “But what about… all of that?” you asked, gesturing vaguely to the world he had just described. “The kingdom? The prince?”

He just shook his head, with a soft smile on his lips. “I’m here now,” he whispered. “That life was just a chapter maybe. This is my home. You are my home.”

He kissed the top of your head—a gesture that felt like the completion of a circle that had been broken for five years. You cuddled deeper into his embrace, chasing the warmth of his body. You finally felt like you were exactly where you were supposed to be. 

It smelled like eggs and bacon in the kitchen. As you stood at the stove, the morning sun streamed in, painting everything in a warm golden light. Jeonghan shuffled out of your room, still sleepy, his long golden hair tousled from sleep. He was wearing one of his old white tank tops that you hadn’t seen in years, and it hung a little loose on his broad frame.

He wrapped his arms around your waist from behind, burying his face in the crook of your neck. “Good morning, princess,” he mumbled, his voice still thick with sleep. “Something smells amazing.”

You leaned back into his embrace, a soft smile spreading across your face. “Morning,” you replied, stirring the scrambled eggs gently. “Just making a little bit of everything.”

He nuzzled closer, his hands sliding up to rest on your waist, pulling you closer against his still-warm body. “You know,” he said, his voice taking on a playful, teasing tone, “For a farm girl, you sure know how to spoil a prince.” He emphasized the word prince with a wink against your neck.

You laughter filled the cozy kitchen. “Oh, so you're back to being a prince, are you?” You teased back, turning your head slightly to look at him. His eyes were bright with mischief, the same playful glint you remembered so well.

He turned you around in his arms, his hands still resting on your waist. He looked down at you, his gaze lingering for a moment before flicking down to your lips. “Only for my princess,” he whispered, leaning in for a soft, lingering kiss.

You kiss him back, your fingers tangling in his beautiful hair. “Your hair,” you murmured when you finally broke apart, your breath coming in short gasps. “It really does look… princely.”

He grinned. “I know,” he said, running a hand through his golden locks. “It's a curse, this effortless beauty.” He winked again, and you playfully swatted his chest.

He caught your hand and brought it to his lips, kissing your knuckles. “Seriously though,” he said, his voice softening again and his gaze earnest, “Thank you. For everything.”

You smiled with your heart full. “You're home now,” you said, your fingers tracing the line of his jaw. “That's all that matters.”

He leaned in for another kiss, shorter this time,. “Now,” he said,, his eyes sparkling, “About that breakfast for the prince…” He released you, but not before giving your backside a playful squeeze, making you blush and laugh all at once. “Ridiculous,” you mutter, plating his breakfast anyway. 

The morning sun streamed into the kitchen, illuminating a future that suddenly felt bright and full of bope, filled with the sweet aroma of breakfast and the comfortable warmth of a love that had found its way back home.

Epilogue: A year later

You stared at the ancient willow tree, your fingers tightening around Jeonghan’s hand. Your heart nearly leaped out of your chest everytime he pulled your head ahead to touch the light, and he finally gave up with a sigh. 

“Let's just go back, princess. You can't do this.” 

“No!” You insisted, shaking your head. “I want to do this. I had a dream! I can't just go back.”

“Well,” Jeonghan huffed, pointing to the light. “Then touch it.” 

“I'm scared!” You yelled, your breathing heavy. You knew you'd be terrified when you woke up from your dream, and instantly informed Jeonghan. Even dragged him all the way here just to know what your dream meant. But trying to experience it in reality was far more horrifying than you could've thought. 

“I'm not even sure if you're gonna end up there with me! I don't know how I'll come back if I get stuck. We're not sure about anything!”

Jeonghan shut his eyes tight, and held your hand softly, pressing a kiss to your temple. “I know. Let's not do this then, yeah? We can go back if you—” 

“But I want to do this,” you muttered, making Jeonghan widen his eyes a little. “I want to explore the world. The worlds. I want to know everything.” 

Jeonghan looked at you quietly for a while before breaking into an unbelieving smile. “This desire is gonna kill us one of these days.” 

You whine, making him shake his head and calm you down like a toddler. “Okay let's do this. We can try to go together. If we do end up going together, then we're good. If either one of us goes alone, let's promise to find our way back to each other? And let's promise to wait.” 

You nod fervently at his words and Jeonghan saw the same wanderlust in your eyes that had once sent him on his journey. 

“Alright,” he said, his voice full of a giddy excitement you hadn’t heard since he first ran into the henhouse. “Let’s go see my kingdom.”

He stood up, pulling you to your feet. You took a deep breath, your hand fitting perfectly into his. The shimmering light grew brighter as you approached it, humming with an energy that seemed to welcome you. You didn’t hesitate. You just squeezed his hand, and together, you stepped into the heart of the portal.

When you opened your eyes again, you were no longer under a willow tree but in a grand, beautiful room bathed in the soft light of a new morning. Silken sheets were draped over you, and the scent of expensive incense filled the air. You were lying in a massive, ornate bed, and nestled beside you, smiling down at your surprised face, was Jeonghan, no longer the simple farm boy, but the prince from another world. 

“Ready for this adventure, princess?” 

“Oh, absolutely!”