n.

the fair is loud, bright, and full of motion. laughs coming from everywhere, colorful decor, and the smell of popcorn and funnel cakes filled your nose. but somehow, the only thing that kept his attention was you — and the way he keeps glancing at you like he’s trying not to get caught.

except you do catch him and it sent butterflies straight to your stomach.

you’re just holding a drink, adjusting your lip gloss in a tiny mirror, and when you look up… there he is. staring.

not in a creepy way — in that soft, vulnerable way, like he forgot for a second that you existed outside his thoughts. his eyes linger too long on your mouth, glancing at the shine, then flicking up to your eyes like he’s terrified you noticed.

and the moment your gazes meet pushed his heart straight to the bottom of his chest. it felt like it physically dropped. he physically jumped. he thought you didn’t see the jump so he looked away quickly — except the tips of his ears turn bright red, and then your stomach flips because oh… he’s nervous. you could tell.

you looked away as if you’d been the one caught. you were nervous, he was nervous, you both were nervous. and not just the “oh nervous for rides and this and that” no, the kind of nervous that means something.

he keeps being quiet after that. looking at the ground. fixing his hair. fiddling with his fingers. you talk, and he answers softly, but his voice feels strained — like he’s trying to keep something locked behind his teeth. like he’s trying to control himself.

you don’t know why, but your chest grows heavy with it. it gets worse on the ferris wheel.

when you get inside the little compartment, it’s warm. close. too intimate. the world outside shrinks as the wheel starts moving, and suddenly all you can hear is your own heartbeat and the tiny sound of jiung’s breath catching every few seconds.

you looked at how he sat, in front of you with no eye contact. you worried something might be wrong. maybe he wasn’t looking at you like that? maybe he regretted coming out with you?

he stares out the window at the lights, jaw tense, hands fidgeting in his lap.

you tilt your head, watching him. wanting to make sure everything was good. “you okay?”

he swallows. “yeah. i’m fine.” he said shortly.

you raise a brow, chills spreading throughout your body. god why are you so nervous? this is your friend. “you’re being quiet.” you mentioned quietly. shyly, not wanting to upset him further.

he hesitates. tries to speak. stops. tries again.

“nothing, i…” he stutters, voice tight. “it’s nothing.”

you shift closer, noticing how close you are when your knee brushing his. “jiung.” you hesitated.

and that one word — your voice, soft, gentle, worried — it breaks something in him. you see it just in time.

the way his shoulders drop. the way his breath hitches. the way he finally dares to look at you.

his eyes met yours — searching, nervous, full of something he’s been hiding all day.

and something in him snaps loose.

“you look really pretty today,” he blurts out, before he can stop himself.

your breath stills, more butterflies inhabiting your stomach.

his eyes widen — like he hadn’t meant to say it out loud. but then something braver kicks in, something small and trembling and real.

“well — you look pretty every day,” he corrects softly, voice shaky. “all the time. i… well…” his cheeks are burning now.

“you’re always pretty to me.”

you freeze. you stared at him longingly, trying to figure out if he actually said what you heard or if you were hallucinating.

he exhales shakily, eyes darting between your lips and your knees and anywhere except your direct stare because he’s scared he’ll fall apart if he holds your gaze too long.

“i didn’t mean to stare earlier,” he murmurs, barely above a whisper, “but you… you had lip gloss on and your lashes looked really nice and i just…”

his fingers twist nervously. his leg starting to bounce lightly. a billion thought were going through his head. he just wanted to tell you. tell you that he was nervous to hang out. to tell you that he tells his other members about you. to tell you that every waking thought and every dream he’s had involved you.

his leg continued to bounce and before he knew it, words spilled from his lips.

“i couldn’t stop looking.”

your heart was pounding so hard it hurt.

he keeps going — quietly, shyly, like he’s peeling his heart open one layer at a time. be just wanted to say how he felt. he had the courage, he was just thinking just do it.

“and then we got on this ride and it’s just… it’s just you and me up here and i can’t—” his voice cracks. “i can’t pretend around you anymore.”

you swallow, stunned, breathless, completely caught off guard.

he looks down at his hands, voice smaller. “i like you. a lot. more than i’ve ever liked anyone.” he inhales, shaky.

“and i’ve been trying so hard to act normal but today it was impossible. the way you are, the way you talk, the way you look, the way you smell, the way you laugh and— and the way you just carry yourself. i want to hold your hand all the time and be close to you. i want to be the one to put a smile on your face. i want to be the one that just gives you everything. i think about you all the time, yn. all the time.”

the wheel slows near the top, leaving you suspended above the fair — glowing lights below, quiet air around you, everything soft and still.

you turn toward him fully, your knee pressing into his, your voice barely a breath. you swallowed harshly, “jiung…“ you hesitated. “i like you too.”

his head lifts instantly and the relief on his face — god — it’s like watching a weight fall off his shoulders. his eyes soften, lips parting in disbelief, chest rising like he can finally breathe.

“you have?” he whispered, a deep breath filling his lungs.

you nod. “yeah.” you didn’t smile, too shocked at what’s going on at the moment.

he stares at you like you’re sunlight. like you’re water after thirst. like he’s been yearning so long he doesn’t know what to do with the ache easing in his chest.

“that’s… that’s good to hear.” he clears his throat.

both of you had a nervous look on your face but then jiung cracked a smile, bringing a tiny smile to your face. you bit your cheek and looked down nervously. “yeah.” you laughed breathlessly before looking up at him. “so what now?”

he pressed his lips together trying to suppress his smile. “whatever you want.”

you hesitated before moving over to his side, sitting right beside him.

he smile looking down at you. his eyes trailed all over, wondering how he met someone as beautiful and precious as you.

he took a deep breath before hesitantly brushing his hand over yours. when you don’t pull away, he lets his hand fully settle over yours. the way someone touches something they’ve wanted for a long, long time. like he couldn’t believe his eyes. like he finally got what he wanted. what he needed and yearned for.

you.

everyone already knows you and jiung like each other.

they see the way his eyes soften when you walk in the room. they see the way he drifts toward your side without thinking, like you’re a magnet to him. they see the way conversations stop when someone mentions your name because jiung’s ears perk up like he’s tuned in to you only.

but neither of you have said anything. it was like an unspoken relationship. you both were undefined by a set boundary or label but everyone knew. even though they know though, it still wasn’t real.

maybe that’s why it hit him so hard today.

the hallway backstage is full of people, noise bouncing off the walls, stylists rushing around, staff calling out directions. but jiung spots you instantly, like he’s wired to find you. like it’s in his dna.

you’re standing with one of the male stylists. he’s standing besides you, joking about something small — and you laugh. innocent. polite. soft, heaven-like.

that made jiung stop completely.

his steps slow until he’s standing still, half-hidden behind a pillar, pretending to check his phone. but his eyes… they don’t move.

they stay on you.

his eyes make note, the curve of your smile, the way your shoulders lift when you laugh, the way you look down shyly at something the stylist says. he hates how easily he makes you do that.

as if you just felt someone staring, you looked to the side and met his eyes. they flashed with something. jealousy? could be. all you did though was smile and look away, trying to be polite to the guy speaking to you.

but you still felt it, his stare.

warm, heavy, burning across your skin. heat spreads throughout your body, blooming in your stomach, tightening your throat. because even without looking, you know when jiung is watching you. you always know because the always is.

because jiung yearns for you— painfully, quietly, constantly.

the kind of yearning that builds in his chest until his breath feels too tight. the kind that makes jealousy flare before he can stop it. the kind that makes him want to step in, wrap a hand around your wrist, and pull you away from anyone who smiles too long at you.

you turn your head just a little, eyes meeting his from across the hallway and the moment your gaze touches his, everything in him shifts.

his jaw tightens and his grip on his phone loosens. his breath catches — barely, but you see it — painfully obvious.

because he wants to be the one you laugh at like that. he wants to be the one who stands close to you. he wants to be more than the “almost” you two are stuck in.

after gaining the courage, jiung finally walks toward you — slow, steady, like he’s deciding something with every step. like he’s trying to figure out what to say and how to say it. he’s thinking maybe i shouldn’t say what i’m thinking. his thoughts were too slow compared to his pace because he was now next to you.

the stylist says something else, but you barely hear it. jiung is close now, close enough that his presence settles around you like a shadow and a warmth all at once.

he brushes past the guy with a quiet “sorry,” then turns to you, voice soft but edged with something deeper. “you ready?”

you hear what he means. you always do. he wanted you alone, all to himself.

you nodded, “yeah.” observing his facial expression.

when the stylist said his goodbye he walks away, leaving you and jiung alone. jiung exhales — the kind of breath people let out when they’ve been holding something too heavy.

he steps closer, lowering his voice. “you… laugh like that when you’re happy.” he stated, as statement not a question. “what made you laugh so hard?” he questions curiously, brushing a piece of your hair back.

you blink up at him. “you heard that?”

“hard not to,” he murmurs, eyes dropping for a second before rising again — more vulnerable, more raw.

“i don’t like it when other guys make you smile like that.” he said quietly, almost inaudible.

you swallow, your heart twisting and turning. your stomach doing backflips. “jiung…” you said softly, as if caught off guard by his statement.

he shakes his head slightly, eyes flicking to your lips, then your eyes again. “you don’t see it,” he says quietly. “how guys look at you. how they try to get your attention.”

his breath hitches, just a little. “and i’m standing there wanting—” he stops, jaw clenching. he felt like he had said too much. even though jiung was always so happy and smiling all the time, he hated being vulnerable— but when it came to you he couldn’t help what came out of his mouth.

you step closer, close enough to hear the shaky inhale he tries to hide. “wanting what?”

his eyes soften, melt, give everything away without a single word.

you already know the answer. so does he. so does everyone.

but he says it anyway — not fully, not directly, but enough “something… more than this,” he whispers.

it’s not a confession. but it is. the kind only an unspoken relationship can hold.

and when he looks at you like that — a mix of jealousy, yearning, fear, want — you feel it too. deeper than friendship. more than “just friends.” more than either of you have said out loud.

“i’m glad we’re on the same page.” you said quietly, softly wrapping your pinky around his before walking toward the exit backstage, leading him behind you.

it was backstage at a year-end show. i was still new, still learning how to breathe around people who shined brighter than the stage lights. my group had just finished performing, and i’d messed up a step, a tiny one, but enough to replay over and over in my head until it felt like a bruise.

i ducked into a hallway between dressing rooms, thinking no one would notice me disappear. i just needed a second—just one—to swallow the panic rising in my throat. but the moment i pressed my back to the wall, everything spilled over. tears i didn’t have permission to cry. frustration i didn’t want anyone to see. the fear that maybe i wasn’t cut out for any of this.

i remember trying to wipe everything away fast, hands shaking, breath choking in and out. and then—

“hey… are you okay?”

his voice wasn’t loud. it wasn’t even surprised. it was just… gentle. too gentle for someone who had no reason to care.

i looked up and keeho was standing a few feet away, holding a water bottle like he was afraid to scare me if he moved any closer.

i’d known who he was before that, of course. everyone did. keeho, the outspoken one, the loud one, the leader with the sharp wit and the big laugh. but none of that matched the expression he had right then. his face was soft, eyebrows pulled together as though my tears were something he felt physically.

“sorry,” i whispered, swiping my cheeks. “i—I’m fine. i just need a minute.”

“you don’t have to apologize for crying,” he said immediately, like he’d been waiting for me to finish so he could correct me. he stepped forward but slowly, like approaching a frightened cat. “do you want some water?”

i didn’t, not really, but i took it because saying no felt impossible under the weight of his concern. my fingers brushed his when i did and i felt my breath snag.

i don’t know how long we stood there—me trying to stop crying, him pretending not to notice how hard i was trying. the hallway was quiet except for the muffled music bleeding from the stage and the distant cheering of fans.

“rough night?” he asked after a bit.

i nodded. “i messed up part of our choreo.”

“one part?”

“one part,” i admitted, staring at the ground.

“and that’s why you’re out here crying alone?”

i shrugged. “i just… i hate disappointing people.”

there was a pause, but not an awkward one. more like he was choosing his words carefully.

“you didn’t disappoint anyone,” he said. “trust me. and even if you did… you’re allowed to be human. it’s okay to break down sometimes. it doesn’t make you weak.”

i don’t know why his words hit as hard as they did. maybe because no one else ever said them. everyone around me kept expecting strength. perfection. composure. but keeho looked at me like I wasn’t failing by feeling anything at all.

and maybe that’s why the tears came back, harder this time. i covered my face, embarrassed, but he didn’t rush or push or panic. he just moved forward and—very gently—rested a hand on my shoulder.

that was the first time anyone in this industry touched me like i was fragile instead of breakable.

“you’re okay,” he murmured. “you’re okay. just breathe.”

and i did. with him there, i breathed.

i didn’t know then that his voice would become something i memorized. that his presence would become something my body recognized before my heart did. that one single moment—me crying in a hallway, him offering water—would carve its way so deeply into me that i’d return to it months later over and over again.

but it did.

**

we didn’t talk much after that night. not at first. idols never know how to behave around people who’ve seen them vulnerable. it felt easier to smile politely whenever we ran into each other at shows, to wave from across a dressing room, to keep it light and normal.

but keeho… he never treated me like i was the girl who cried in a hallway.

he treated me like i was someone he genuinely liked being around

and i found myself craving that. craving him.

one shared music show turned into brief conversations. brief conversations turned into inside jokes. inside jokes turned into moments where he’d lean in too close, grin at something i said, then look away quickly like he had to physically stop himself from staring.

soon he didn’t look away.

“you look tired,” he’d say, concerned even when i swore i was fine.

“did you eat?” he’d ask, handing me snacks before i could answer.

“text me when you get home,” he’d say casually, like it wasn’t something only people who cared said.

i tried to pretend that my heart didn’t tug every time.

**

but it wasn’t until months later that i saw his secret crying face.

we’d been passing each other backstage again—different show, different stage, different year—but he looked off. forced smile, tense shoulders, something hollow in his eyes. i almost didn’t say anything, thinking maybe he needed space the way i once did.

but then i remembered that day. the one he helped me through without asking for anything in return.

so i followed him quietly when he slipped into an empty practice room.

i knocked lightly. “keeho?”

he didn’t answer. when i pushed the door open, he had his back to me, head bowed, hands pressed to his eyes. his shoulders shook—so slightly i almost missed it.

my chest tightened.

“keeho,” i said again, softer.

he turned his head a fraction, just enough for me to see the emotion he was trying to hide. his breath stuttered and he looked away quickly, wiping his cheeks with the heel of his palm

“sorry,” he muttered, voice thick. “i didn’t want anyone to see— i just needed a second.”

the words echoed my own from that day.

i stepped toward him, heart rattling but steady. “you don’t have to apologize.”

he gave a broken laugh, more exhale than sound. “this industry is exhausting sometimes. i didn’t want to dump that on you.”

“you didn’t dump anything on me,” i said. “i’m here because i care.”

his breath hitched, and when he looked at me fully, his eyes were glossy and vulnerable, the way mine had been months ago. except seeing his pain hurt me so much more than feeling my own.

“that day,” he said quietly, “when i found you crying? i didn’t know why, but it hurt to see you like that. i just… didn’t want you to feel alone.”

i reached out, taking his hand—something i’d never been brave enough to do before. “you’re not alone either, keeho. not with me.”

the silence that followed wasn’t heavy. it was warm. his fingers tightened around mine, slow and hesitant, like he needed permission even for that.

“thank you,” he whispered.

but it didn’t feel like enough.

so i stepped closer, close enough to hear his uneven breathing, close enough to feel the warmth of his body. and when he didn’t pull away, i wrapped my arms around him.

he melted into me instantly—head lowering to my shoulder, hands sliding around my waist. i could feel the tension leaving him in waves, could feel his heartbeat gradually steadying against mine.

“i remember the day we first met,” i said softly, fingers brushing his back. “and you didn’t let me be alone. i’m just doing the same.”

he didn’t speak for a moment, just held on a little tighter.

“that day,” he whispered, “i think… i think that’s when i started caring about you more than i should’ve.”

my breath caught.

i pulled back enough to meet his eyes, our foreheads nearly touching. “and now?”

he swallowed. “now it scares me how much i feel.”

“me too,” i admitted.

the tiniest smile curved his lips, still wet from tears. “we’re a mess.”

“a little,” i said. “but we’re a mess together.”

his laugh was small but real. then his gaze dropped to my mouth and lingered—long enough that i felt heat rush to my cheeks.

i didn’t move first.

he did.

the kiss wasn’t dramatic. it wasn’t rushed. it was soft, trembling, like two people finally letting themselves feel everything they’d been holding back. his hands framed my face, careful and warm, and i felt myself exhale into him like i’d been waiting to breathe the whole time.

when we finally pulled apart, foreheads still touching, his thumb brushed my cheek.

“thank you,” he murmured again.

“every time you need me,” i whispered. “i’ll be here.”

and i meant it.

because that day—the one we both remembered—never really ended. it just turned into this moment, and then into all the moments after. the ones we hadn’t lived yet but would, together.

that day, once again.

and again.

The late afternoon sun painted the sidewalks in warm orange hues as you and Shota walked side by side, school bags lazily slung over your shoulders. The soft thud of your shoes against the pavement filled the comfortable silence between you two, your fingers occasionally brushing but never quite daring to hold.

It had been a while since you started dating, yet the habit of addressing each other so formally with your lastnames and honorifics still clung awkwardly to your conversations, like a shirt that didn't quite fit. Today, though, Shota had promised himself he'd finally cross that line.

As you turned down a quieter street, away from the main road and the prying eyes of classmates, he suddenly stopped. You halted a step ahead, turning back to him with a curious tilt of your head.

Shota shuffled his feet, his hand gripping the strap of his bag a little too tightly. His cheeks were already tinged a soft pink, and you could see how his gaze darted everywhere—the sidewalk, the sky, even a distant crow—anywhere but your eyes.

and then out of nowhere—his soft voice cracking slightly, as he carefully pronounced your first name without the usual honorific.

You froze, stunned by how gently your name slipped from his lips, as if he were holding something precious. You didn’t realize you were staring—intensely, shamelessly—at him, your heart hammering away. His face turned an even deeper shade of red under your gaze, and Shota looked like he wanted the ground to swallow him whole.

But all you could think about was how adorable he looked, trying so hard not to combust on the spot.

Your mind short-circuited, blank except for a looping replay of him saying your name. Only when you noticed you boyfriend's worried glance—a silent "are you okay?"—did you snap back to reality.

Right—it was your turn.

You sucked in a deep breath, your chest puffing out slightly with excitement. "Sho–ta?" you called, grinning so widely it hurt your cheeks. You stretched out his name like it was the most exciting thing you'd ever said.

His eyes widened in shock for a split second before his lips trembled into a helpless, crooked smile. His heart practically exploded inside his chest at how happy you looked just calling his name.

Without a word, Shota dropped his bag onto the ground and pulled you into his arms, burying his burning face against your shoulder. His hug was tight, desperate—almost like he was using you as a shield to hide how completely flustered he was.

You laughed softly at his little sounds he usually made when he's feeling excited—wrapping your arms around him in return, feeling his body tremble slightly with all the feelings he couldn't put into words.

The world around you faded, the sun melting behind the rooftops, leaving only the two of you—tangled together, hearts pounding, names still warm on your tongues.

The bell above the entrance rings, the sound delicate and inviting.

You glance up from behind the counter, startled by the sound. Your friend had just slipped into the bathroom a minute ago, leaving you alone, which always made you a little nervous. Working in the coffee shop had surprisingly become the easiest part of your life in Korea. It was the one place where things felt routine and manageable despite the language barrier.

Coming here to study was a last-minute decision. You hadn’t had enough time to properly learn the language, or the basics at least, before arriving. And finding a job had seemed impossible at first. Luckily, your English speaking friend had offered you a spot here, reassuring you that you’d always work with someone else, so you could focus on making drinks while they handled the talking.

Six months later, you were finally starting to feel like you’d established a life in the country. Most days were peaceful. Most days, things went smoothly.

But now, standing behind the counter alone with a customer walking in, you can feel your heartbeat speed up.

The boy who enters looks quiet, dressed casually with a beanie pulled low and his hands in his pockets. He glances around the shop, taking it in for the first time, his eyes flicking to the handwritten menu on the chalkboard wall, the small tables, and the hanging plants.

Then his gaze lands on you.

You freeze for a split second before offering a small, nervous smile, cursing your friend in your head. I’ll be quick my ass.

He steps up to the counter, and politely waits for you as he reads over the menu. You mentally prepare yourself for the sure to be awkward conversation and stand in front of the register. 

“Annyeonghaseyo.” You greet timidly with a small nod of your head.

His eyes widen just barely at the Korean word, not expecting you to say it since you so clearly look foreign. The corner of his mouth twitches upward before he mimics the greeting back to you, his tone polite and soft.

He glances back at the menu, scanning the chalkboard to make up his mind. After a moment, he looks back at you.

“Do you… have any recommendations for what’s good here?” he asks carefully, his Korean slow and clear.

Your stomach drops. Some of the words sound familiar, but your brain scrambles to keep up with them, your heartbeat picking up pace as you realize he’s waiting for an answer.

You manage a hesitant, “Mianhaeyo,” before switching to English, words tumbling out quickly. “I’m sorry— my Korean isn’t good.”

The moment the words leave your mouth, your cheeks flame. You can feel the embarrassment creeping up your neck as you force a nervous smile, ready to climb inside a hole and live in it for the rest of eternity.

He blinks, taken aback for a second, then nods in understanding. His hand comes up to scratch the back of his neck, a sheepish smile slipping out. 

He glances at the menu once more, lips pressing into a thin line. Why did I try to be adventurous today? He thinks to himself, fighting the urge to just walk out.

Finally, he decides to order his usual. “Uh… Iced Americano.” he says, meeting your eyes again.

Relief floods you. You nod quickly, repeating, “Americano.” and enter it in the register, pointing at the screen opposite him so he could pay. You turn to make his drink, grateful for the distraction.

He moves to a nearby table, settling into a seat by the window while he waits. You try to focus on the sound of the espresso machine, on filling his cup with ice, anything to distract yourself but you can feel his gaze flick toward you every few seconds. The weight of his curious eyes makes your pulse quicken.

Your movements grow a little clumsier, your fingers brushing the counter awkwardly as you pour the shot and swirl the drink. You can practically hear your own heartbeat over the soft café music.

Finally, you place the lid on the cup and slide it onto the counter. “Iced Americano.” you call out softly, hoping your voice doesn’t sound as shaky as you feel.

He stands at the sound of your voice. When he reaches the counter, his eyes meet yours for just a second. “Thank you.” he whispers, the words in English this time, quiet and shy, and then he smiles.

It’s the most endearing smile you’ve ever seen in your life.

Before you can even react, he’s already walking out, the bell above the door chiming as he disappears down the street.

You stand there for a moment, still staring at the door, trying to process what just happened, when your friend finally emerges from the bathroom.

She groans dramatically. “Did I take long? I think my morning coffee gave me diarrhea.”

You turn to her slowly, blinking in disbelief. “What?”

She barely gets the word out before you start smacking her arm repeatedly. “Ow—ow! What are you doing?!” she yelps, raising her arms to shield herself.

“A customer came in!” you exclaim, your voice full of despair.

“So? That happens every now and then.” she says, rubbing her arm, still confused.

You huff, crossing your arms with a pout. “I completely embarrassed myself!”

She tilts her head, clearly trying to understand what could’ve gone that wrong in her absence. “How?”

You groan and drop your face into your hands. “He was soooo cute,” you mumble, voice muffled. “Like, extremely cute.”

She snorts, trying not to laugh. 

You let out another dramatic groan and straighten up, pouting. “I’m taking my fifteen.”

“Go,” she says, waving you off with a smirk. “Maybe splash some cold water on your face while you’re at it.”

You glare at her playfully before stomping toward the back, still muttering under your breath.

Meanwhile, halfway to FNC, Shota takes a sip of his drink, the cool bitterness refreshing him after the awkward encounter. As he tilts the cup, a bit of writing catches his eye. 

He lifts it closer.

In uneven, almost childlike korean handwriting, it reads:

“Sorry again (⸝⸝⸝-﹏-⸝⸝⸝)”

He just stares for a moment and then a small laugh escapes him, light and genuine. He shakes his head, a smile lingering on his lips.

The cute message from the even cuter barista makes the bitter coffee taste just a little sweeter.

He comes in a few days later.

The bell chimes, and when you look up, your eyes widen slightly. He smiles, that same endearing smile and you can’t help but smile back before quickly looking away.

This time, he orders with your coworker, asking for an iced americano but for dine in this time. Your heart beats a little faster as you make it, and when you bring it to his table, he looks up, eyes gentle.

“Thank you.” he whispers in that same sweet tone.

You smile shyly and hurry back to the counter, pretending to focus on work while feeling his glances now and then. Sometimes you catch him looking, and you both turn away, flustered.

When he leaves, you go to collect his cup, and right beside it, sprawled on a napkin, are the words:

“So good ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡”

You grin, cheeks warm, and slip the napkin into your pocket, your steps a little lighter after that.

Seeing him quickly becomes something you look forward to. 

Every time the bell above the door rings, your heart skips a beat before you even look up just in case it’s him. You start catching yourself glancing at the clock more often, noticing the times he tends to show up. Your friend even began to notice, teasing you over the little crush you’ve developed.

Your doodle exchanges become a quiet routine, your own way of talking despite the language barrier. 

The next time he orders, you sign the message with your name. You think about how silly, almost childish these exchanges were, but the innocence of it all excites you anyways. 

He sits down and you watch as he sneaks a look at the message, a giddy smile tugging at his lips. He looks up at you, and you don’t look away. You hold each other's eyes for a moment and you finally break eye contact as you struggle to contain your smile and turn away. He watches happily, savoring the silent acknowledgment between you two. 

When you go to clean up his table later, you eagerly search for the napkin first, hoping he’d left what you were looking for. 

“Have a good day (˶' ᵕ '˶)- Shota”

You trace the letters with your thumb, smiling to yourself.

From then on, you always greeted him with his name. Whenever the door opens and you see him walk in, you say “Hi, Shota.” and wait for the small, delighted smile that spreads across his face. And when he steps up to the counter to collect his order, he always thanks you softly, whispering yours to see the same reaction.

—

The café is packed that afternoon, a steady stream of customers, the hiss of the espresso machine never stopping, chatter and clinking cups blending into the background. You’re in the middle of it all, hair pinned back, sleeves rolled up, focused but tired.

When the door opens you look up, and there he is.

Despite how busy it is, your face lights up immediately. You smile at him, saying his name softly over the noise. “Hi Shota!”

Just like always, his cheeks tint pink at the sound of it, his lips curling into that shy, endearing smile that makes your heart flutter every single time. But this time, he isn’t alone. Standing beside him is another boy, handsome and clearly confident.

Shota gives a small, almost bashful wave before going to place his order with his friend.

They move to wait in front of the pickup counter and you can feel their gaze on you as you make their drinks, trying to move efficiently despite the rush. When you glance up to offer Shota a quick smile, he clears his throat and gestures toward his friend, speaking in a slightly uncertain voice. “This is Steph.”

You blink, caught off guard for a second, then smile wider. “Annyeong, Steph.”

To your surprise, Steph grins and replies in clear English, “Hi, it’s nice to meet you.”

Your eyes widen slightly. “Oh! Your English— it’s really good!”

He laughs, easy and friendly. “I’m Canadian.”

You let out a small laugh at yourself and shake your head. “Ah, that makes sense.”

He glances toward Shota, who’s standing awkwardly beside him, pretending to study the pastries on display. Steph leans a little closer to him and says something in Korean. Shota's ears turn pink, and he gives a tiny nod before waving at you with that same cute, shy smile before going to sit at the one free table available.

When you turn back to Steph, he’s watching you with an amused expression. “I’ve heard a lot about you,” he says casually, like you’ve known each other longer than 3 minutes. 

Your face heats up instantly. “Oh?”

He nods, lips curling into a knowing smile. “Yeah. Whenever he meets us after coming here, he’s always in a good mood.”

Your stomach does a little flip, but you try to play it off with a teasing grin. “Must be the coffee. It’s really good.”

Steph chuckles, shaking his head. “I think it’s the person who makes it.” Then seriously he adds, “He talks about you a lot.”

That makes you giggle, soft and surprised, before your eyes flick over to where Shota is sitting. He’s pretending not to watch the two of you talk, scrolling on his phone with furrowed brows. His posture  is stiff, a little tense, his foot tapping lightly against the floor.

You finish their drinks and hand them to Steph, who takes them with a polite smile. Then, before turning away, he leans in slightly, voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Can you keep a secret?”

You blink but nod immediately, curious.

He grins. “I think he might have a little crush on you.”

You feel your breath hitch, your chest tightening in the best way possible. You can’t stop the shy smile that spreads across your face.

“Can you keep a secret?” you whisper back.

Steph raises a brow and nods, amused.

You glance toward Shota again, who’s now sneakily peeking in your direction, and then lean closer just enough to murmur, “I do too.”

Steph's grin turns mischievous. “Yeah,” he says under his breath, straightening up. “I was hoping you’d say that.”

And as he walks away to join Shota you watch the two of them, your heart fluttering wildly as Shota whispers hurriedly to Steph, no doubt interrogating him on what he said.

A while later as they start gathering their things to leave, you call out to them.

“Wait!” 

Both boys turn back toward the counter as you reach beneath it quickly, grabbing the small pastry box you’d prepared and held it out to them.

“This is for you, on the house.”

Steph looks pleasantly surprised, his eyes lighting up. “Really?”

You nod, smiling wider. “Mhm.”

Shota steps forward to take the box from you, his fingers brushing against yours in the exchange, and your hand tingles from the touch. His eyes flicker up to meet yours, and for a split second, neither of you moves.

Then with wide eyes and that same, endearing, heart-melting smile that first got you into this mess, he says quietly, “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” you reply, feeling a little bolder this time. You glance at him and, in careful Korean, say, “See you later?”

His expression softens instantly. The corners of his mouth lift into a happy grin, his eyes crinkling as he nods, “Yes.”

Steph lets out an exaggerated “awww.” earning an elbow from Shota before they both laugh and start heading for the door. 

The bell rings again as they step outside, and through the window, you can see Steph animatedly teasing him. Shota's ears turn pink immediately, and he swats at him half-heartedly, muttering something that only makes Steph laugh harder.

As they walk down the street, Steph insists on opening the box, curiosity getting the better of him. When they peek inside, their laughter fades into quiet surprise.

Right on top of the pastries lies a small napkin, your number followed by a tiny doodle of a bunny with a heart beside it sprawled on top. 

Shota just stares at it for a moment, his lips curving happily. He tucks the napkin carefully back into the box, shaking his head, but the blush on his face gives him away.

He turns to Steph who was watching him with a grin. “Can you help me with my English?”

So when you told him you couldn't come because your vacation request was denied at work, the disappointment on his face had been instant, even though he tried to hide it.

“It’s okay,” he’d said with a small smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “We’ll celebrate when I’m back.”

Now, standing in the dressing room with a small birthday cake on the table beside you and your hands shaking just a little, you prayed the lie would be worth it.

You arrived earlier that day and were able to go home and see your family, and you had just enough time to bake Jiung his favorite lemon blackberry cake that you always made.

Loud cheers erupted from the TV as the boys waved goodbye to the crowd. The screen flickered to a shot of Jiung, smiling so brightly it made your chest ache. He was glowing, but you could tell that smile wasn’t as wide as it normally was.

The staff around you had already been in on the plan. They whispered excitedly as they got into place, ushering you and the cake into the perfect hiding spot behind their cluster of bodies, adjusting the confetti poppers in their hands. You all waited a few moments until you heard their footsteps and you held your breath.

The moment the door opened and Jiung stepped through first, the room exploded.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!”

Confetti burst into the air, colorful pieces raining over the boys and staff. You couldn’t see Jiung’s whole face from your hiding place, but you caught a glimpse. His eyes widened, the way his mouth tugged upward into an adorably flustered smile as he instinctively ducked from the confetti.

“Ah—! Thank you so much!” he laughed, bowing deeply while the staff clapped and cheered.

The boys stood behind him, trying very hard, and failing very badly, to hold back their grins.

Then Keeho cupped his hands around his mouth dramatically. “Wait, wait, WAIT— where’s the cake?”

“Oh yeah, yeah, where’s the cake?” Jongseob echoed, too innocently.

Murmurs rippled around the room, everyone playing along.

“Did someone forget it?”

“I thought YOU had it?”

“Where’d it go?”

Jiung blinked, looking confused. “There's really no need for another one, we already had one on stage.”

Right on cue, you took a small breath and called out:

“Found it!”

The staff parted like a curtain.

When Jiung's eyes landed on you, his eyes widened in shock and disbelief, almost as if he thought he was imagining you.

“Happy birthday, Jiung." you said softly.

That snapped him out of his daze.

He took a sharp breath and rushed toward you. But before he could tackle you in a hug, you quickly held out the cake between you two, gesturing to the open flame.

“Wait! Make a wish first.”

He froze, blinking down at the tiny cake in your hands. A single candle flickered gently at the center, its glow lighting the awe on his face.

Without even hesitating, Jiung leaned down and blew out the candle in a single breath.

He immediately grabbed the cake from your hands, passed it to the nearest staff member without even looking, and then wrapped his arms tightly around your waist, lifting you slightly off the ground in a soul crushing hug.

You gasped, bursting into laughter as your arms instinctively went around his neck. He held you close, spinning you the tiniest bit, burying his face in your shoulder just to make sure you were in fact really there.

The room filled with soft claps and a chorus of “Awwwwwws!”

Keeho and Soul sniffled dramatically.

Intak pretended to wipe a tear.

Theo whispered, “He’s so whipped.”

Jongseob recorded everything like the angel he was.

Jiung didn’t care. He didn’t even hear them.

When he finally set you down, his arms didn’t leave your waist, not even for a second. His forehead rested against yours, breathing uneven, smile shaky.

You leaned up and whispered quietly just for him to hear, “You didn’t even make a wish.”

He let out a breathy laugh, voice low and warm.
“You’re all I wanted for my birthday.”

Your heart flipped so hard you almost forgot how to stand for a second. You pulled back just enough to see his face, flushed cheeks, soft eyes, lips curved in the purest smile you’d ever seen.

“I’m sorry for lying to you...” you whispered.

He shook his head immediately. “Don’t be. Lying is okay sometimes.”

Before you could respond, Theo caught a glimpse of Jiung’s glassy eyes, just a little shimmer at the corners , and let out a high-pitched, “JIUNG’S CRYING!”

The others instantly joined in.

“Hyung, your eyes are shiny!”

"Someone get him tissues!”

“He’s emotional!”

“A BABY!”

Jiung groaned in embarrassment, burying his face into your shoulder again.

You rolled your eyes at the boys and tugged his head closer into you, wrapping your arms around him protectively.

“Stop,” you warned them playfully, smoothing your hand over the back of his hair. “Let him have his moment.”

You felt the faint dampness reach your skin and you couldn't help the smile that spread on your face at your adorably emotional boyfriend.

Jiung tightened his arms around your waist just a little more as you whispered softly,

“I missed you, birthday boy.”

And he whispered back, voice shaking with happiness,

You always know when Jiung is at your house.

The sound of the front door opening is different — softer somehow, followed by his quiet “hey, I’m here,” and your brother’s loud footsteps thudding down the hall. 

Then there’s laughter, voices colliding in that easy, familiar rhythm that’s been part of your home for years.

It used to feel normal. 

Comforting, even.

Now it just makes your chest ache a little.

You’re in the kitchen when Jiung appears, hair slightly tousled from the wind, his smile already tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Hey,” he says, voice warm, soft — that same tone he’s always used when talking to you. 

Friendly. Effortless. Dangerous.

“Hey,” you reply, pretending to be focused on pouring juice.

He leans casually against the doorway, watching you with that small, amused expression he always seems to have. “You always hide in the kitchen when I come over,” he teases.

You shrug. “Someone has to make sure my brother doesn’t eat everything before dinner.”

He laughs — that soft, full sound that somehow makes the whole room feel lighter.

From the living room, your brother yells, “Jiung! You’re not flirting with my sister again, are you?”

Jiung shakes his head, still smiling. “Never. I’m a saint.”

You roll your eyes, but your heart beats faster anyway.

───────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

─────────

Later that evening, they’re sprawled across the couch, controllers in hand, the screen flashing colors. 

You’re curled up at the other end with a blanket, pretending to scroll on your phone while half-listening to their conversation.

Jiung’s concentration face is unfairly pretty — his brow furrowed, lips pressed together, the corner of his mouth twitching when he’s about to win.

You try not to stare.

“Guess she picked her side,” your brother says, gesturing at you when Jiung looks over. “She’s rooting for you. Traitor.”

“I’d root for whoever’s losing,” you say.

Jiung glances at you, eyes glinting. “Then I guess I’ll have to lose on purpose.”

Your brother groans. “Stop being weird, man.”

Jiung just laughs, and you bite back your own smile. Because it’s easier to pretend his words don’t mean anything — easier than wondering if maybe they do.

The next morning, you wake to the faint clinking of mugs in the kitchen. 

It’s too early for your brother to be up, and when you peek through the doorway, you see Jiung instead — barefoot, in an oversized hoodie, pouring coffee like he lives there.

“Morning,” you mumble.

He turns, smiling when he sees you. “Hey. Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you. Your brother’s still asleep.”

“It’s fine. You’re here early.”

He shrugs. “Couldn’t sleep. Figured I’d come over and steal your coffee.”

You raise an eyebrow. “So you came here instead of making your own?”

He grins. “Yours tastes better.”

You don’t tell him it’s because you started using the brand he once mentioned liking.

He leans against the counter, eyes still a little sleepy. “You’ve got bed hair,” he says softly, and before you can respond, he reaches forward, brushing a strand away from your face.

His touch is light — barely there — but it lingers, like static.

Your breath catches.

Then the moment breaks when your brother stumbles in, yawning loudly. “Man, why are you both awake? It’s a Sunday.”

Jiung pulls back instantly, smile shifting into something easy again. “Because we’re productive members of society.”

You roll your eyes, trying to ignore the warmth still blooming across your skin.

───────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

─────────

Over the next few weeks, Jiung keeps showing up.

Sometimes with your brother, sometimes on his own. Sometimes with takeout, sometimes with a sheepish smile and a “hey, I was in the neighborhood.”

He helps you carry groceries when your brother’s too lazy, stays to watch movies, or talks with you on the porch when the night feels too heavy to sit through alone.

And slowly, without meaning to, he starts to feel like part of the rhythm of your days.

There’s something about Jiung that’s steady. 

He never rushes you, never makes things complicated. When he listens, it’s like he’s really there — not just waiting to talk. When you laugh, his eyes soften like you’re the only thing worth looking at.

You know you shouldn’t read into it.

You know it’s dangerous, this quiet closeness that grows between the cracks of friendship and something else.

But Jiung is warmth in human form, and you’re just a little cold sometimes.

So you let yourself stay near him.

Even if it means pretending it doesn’t mean anything.

One evening, you’re both sitting outside while your brother’s out. Jiung brought pizza, and the sky is painted in slow colors — lavender and gold, fading into blue.

“You ever think about leaving this place?” he asks suddenly.

You glance at him. “Leaving?”

He nods, looking thoughtful. “Yeah. Like, just… going somewhere else. Somewhere quiet. By the sea, maybe.”

You smile faintly. “You? The city boy?”

He laughs softly. “Hey, I can adapt. I just think it’d be nice. Slower. You could breathe easier there.”

You hum in agreement, watching him take a bite of pizza. There’s something wistful in his expression, something that tugs at your chest.

“Would you go alone?” you ask quietly.

He looks at you then — really looks — and his voice comes out gentle. “I don’t think I’d want to.”

And for a moment, it feels like he’s saying something else entirely.

───────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

─────────

Later, when you say goodbye at the door, he lingers like he doesn’t really want to leave.

“She’s gonna make me late again,” he jokes, referring to your brother, who’s already inside changing shoes. “You’d think I’d learn by now.”

“You like it too much here to leave on time,” you tease.

He laughs under his breath, the kind of sound that stays with you long after he’s gone.

When you close the door behind him, you realize your cheeks hurt from smiling too much.

And you wonder — not for the first time — if Jiung knows just how dangerous he is when he’s kind.

Your brother’s trip isn’t supposed to be a big deal — just a short work retreat that leaves the house quieter than usual. Still, he looks worried when he’s zipping up his bag.

“You’ll be fine, right? Jiung’s gonna check in on you.”

You wave him off. “I’m not twelve.”

“Yeah, but the house feels empty without me. Admit it.”

You laugh. “Sure, whatever helps you sleep on your business-class flight.”

When the car finally pulls away, the quiet lands all at once — like dust settling after years of motion. You stand in the doorway for a moment, watching the street, until you hear the faint hum of a familiar engine. 

Jiung’s car.

He steps out carrying a small overnight bag and that easy smile.

“Hey. Your brother told me to make sure you don’t burn the place down.”

You raise an eyebrow. “What’s that — the emergency-stay bag?”

He shrugs, amused. “Just in case you get lonely.”

You tell him you won’t, but somehow he ends up on your couch that evening anyway.

───────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

─────────

The first night is unremarkable in the best way. 

You order takeout, eat in front of a movie you’ve both already seen. He stretches across one end of the couch, socked feet pressed lightly against your leg. 

You think about moving them, then don’t.

“You’re quiet,” he says.

“I’m always quiet.”

“Not like this.” He glances at you. “You look like you’re trying to memorize the silence.”

You smile. “Maybe I am.”

He nods thoughtfully, eyes drifting back to the screen. “It’s nice, though. I never get quiet like this.”

And somehow, that feels like a confession.

───────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

─────────

By the second morning, a rhythm has already formed.

You wake to the smell of toast and the clatter of a pan. Jiung’s in the kitchen wearing your brother’s apron, sleeves pushed up, hair a mess. 

The scene shouldn’t feel intimate, but it does.

“You cook now?” you tease, grabbing a mug.

He grins. “Trying to impress the homeowner.”

“You’re failing.”

He laughs, sliding a plate toward you. “Then eat before you write a bad review.”

Breakfast turns into dishes, dishes turn into music from someone’s playlist, and before you realize it, you’re singing under your breath while drying a pan. Jiung joins in quietly, a little off-key, and it makes you laugh.

He looks pleased by the sound. “Haven’t heard you laugh like that in a while.”

You glance up. “Maybe you haven’t been around enough.”

“I’ll fix that,” he says simply.

The words are light, but they stay with you.

Afternoons are slower. 

Sometimes you both work — him on his laptop, you half-reading a book. The house hums with domestic stillness: the whirr of a fan, the soft tap of keys, the occasional creak when someone moves. 

It feels ordinary, and yet it anchors something in you.

At some point he looks up from the screen. “You’re staring.”

You blink. “No, I wasn’t.”

He smiles knowingly but doesn’t push. That’s what you like about Jiung — he never demands more than you can give. 

He just sits there, steady, until you find the courage to meet his eyes again.

───────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

─────────

On the third day, rain rolls in. 

It starts as a whisper against the windows, then turns heavy, steady. You’re both on the porch, watching the world blur into gray.

Jiung leans on the railing. “Smells good, doesn’t it?”

“Like wet pavement,” you reply.

He nods, smiling. “Yeah. It reminds me of when we used to run around after basketball games. Everything felt endless back then.”

You watch the rain slide down his arm. “You still come over like you used to.”

“Maybe that’s why it still feels endless.”

The words settle between you, soft as the rain itself. You sip your tea, pretending not to notice how your pulse picks up.

Evenings are easy.

You cook together, argue about which show to start, fall into quiet stretches where neither of you speaks. It’s the kind of peace that sneaks up on you — unremarkable but full.

One night, you find him on the couch reading one of your books. He looks guilty when you catch him.

“You were bored?”

“Curious,” he says. “You have good taste.”

You sit down beside him. “You didn’t even get to the good part.”

“Show me,” he says, leaning closer so you can point out a passage. You’re suddenly aware of how near he is — the warmth of his arm, the quiet of his breathing. 

You read a few lines aloud, and when you glance up, he’s already looking at you.

“See?” you say, trying to sound normal.

“Yeah,” he murmurs. “I see.”

You don’t move for a while after that.

───────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

─────────

By the fifth day, it starts feeling like this is how it’s always been — morning coffee, quiet errands, shared jokes. 

Jiung folds laundry like it’s the most natural thing in the world. He hums while waiting for the kettle to boil. 

When he catches you watching, he just smiles, as if the sight of you in his periphery has become routine.

At night, you sit on opposite ends of the couch, feet brushing sometimes. The television glows faintly; outside, crickets hum. 

You think about how temporary this is, how your brother will come home soon, and the thought makes your chest tighten.

“You okay?” Jiung asks, turning down the volume.

You nod. “Just thinking.”

“Dangerous,” he says softly, eyes still on you. “You think too much.”

“Maybe.”

He smiles a little. “It’s one of the things I like about you.”

The sentence lands so gently that it almost doesn’t register. You blink, but he’s already looking back at the screen. 

The moment passes — or pretends to.

───────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

─────────

On the last night, you stay up later than usual. 

The air is cool, the lights dim. Jiung’s half-asleep on the couch, head tilted back, mouth parted. You think about waking him but don’t. 

Instead, you pull a blanket over him, careful not to touch more than necessary.

“Thanks,” he mumbles, eyes still closed.

“You’re awake.”

“Half.” A small smile. “You take care of everyone, don’t you?”

“Someone has to.”

He opens his eyes then, sleepy but clear. “You don’t have to with me.”

You don’t know what to say, so you just stand there, the quiet stretching until it feels like a thread between you — fragile, glowing.

“Good night, Jiung.”

“Good night,” he whispers, and something in his tone sounds like stay.

When your brother returns the next afternoon, Jiung helps unload the car, laughing easily, like nothing’s changed. And maybe nothing has. 

But as you stand at the doorway watching him, you realize the house already feels different.

There’s a warmth left behind in every room he touched — a mug on the counter, a folded blanket, a familiar shape in the silence.

And when he says goodbye that night, you almost tell him not to go.

But you don’t. You just smile, and he smiles back, both of you pretending it’s the same as before.

───────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

─────────

After Jiung goes home, the house feels too big.

It’s not empty — your brother’s loud again, filling the rooms with the usual noise — but there’s something different about the quiet between moments. 

Like the air remembers him. Like everything is still tuned to the sound of his voice.

You keep catching yourself expecting him to walk in, to drop his keys on the counter, to laugh at something your brother says.

He doesn’t.

Instead, you start seeing him in small, ordinary flashes — when your brother’s phone lights up with his name, when you pass the café near the basketball courts, when someone laughs in a way that almost sounds like him.

And every time, there’s that same soft tug in your chest.

───────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

─────────

One afternoon, you find yourself sitting on the porch steps, sipping a cold drink, watching the sun stretch over the street. 

The neighborhood hums — a car passing, a lawn mower in the distance, a kid laughing somewhere down the block.

It’s peaceful. Too peaceful.

Then your phone buzzes.

jiung: hey

jiung: your brother told me you baked today. save me some?

You smile without meaning to.

you: if you get here before he eats it all

A few minutes later, there’s a knock on the door.

“Wow,” you say, opening it. “That was fast.”

He grins. “Coincidence. I was just in the area.”

You step aside to let him in, heart doing that familiar, inconvenient thing it always does around him. 

He moves easily through the kitchen, like no time has passed, like the week he stayed still lingers somewhere in the air.

“Chocolate chips?” he asks.

You nod. “Always.”

He steals one, still warm, and you swat at his hand. “You didn’t even wait for coffee.”

“I live dangerously,” he says, smiling through a mouthful of cookie.

And just like that, the space between you feels light again.

───────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

─────────

Over the next few days, Jiung starts appearing again — not constantly, just enough. 

Sometimes to drop something off for your brother, sometimes just to say hi. You tell yourself it’s nothing new, that he’s always been around, but it feels different now. 

Softer. Calmer.

He’s busy — you can tell. New work, new hours, the kind of life that keeps moving faster than you want it to. 

But when he’s here, it’s like the world slows down a little to make room for him.

One evening, he finds you in the backyard stringing up fairy lights.

“Need help?” he asks, voice floating through the golden hour.

“You volunteering?”

“Always.”

You hand him a few clips, and he reaches up to hook the lights along the edge of the fence. You watch the sunlight slide across his skin, the way his hair glows at the edges. 

When he looks down, you look away too quickly.

“Perfect,” he says when the last bulb flickers on.

You murmur, “Yeah.”

But you’re not looking at the lights.

───────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

─────────

That night, the three of you sit outside — you, Jiung, your brother — the air thick with summer warmth.

Music hums low from someone’s speaker, and fireflies blink lazily in the dark.

Jiung leans back in his chair, eyes half-closed, and you wonder if he feels it too — the strange peace that sits between all of you now.

“Remember when we used to camp in the yard?” your brother says suddenly, laughing. “You two would fight over the flashlight.”

“I never fought,” you protest.

Jiung chuckles. “You threw it at me once.”

“It slipped.”

He smiles, eyes glinting. “Sure it did.”

The conversation drifts after that, your brother growing sleepy and quiet. By the time he goes inside, only you and Jiung are left under the soft, humming lights.

You hug your knees, resting your chin on them. “It’s weird,” you say. “Everything’s the same, but it doesn’t feel like it.”

Jiung looks at you for a long time before replying. “Yeah,” he says quietly. “Some things change even when nothing really does.”

You both sit there until the air cools and the lights start to dim. When he finally stands, he hesitates like he wants to say more — but he just smiles instead.

“Good night,” he says.

“Good night, Jiung.”

───────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

─────────

Days stretch into weeks. 

Life returns to normal, or close enough to it. But now, when you pass him on the street, something always lingers — the memory of quiet mornings and shared laughter and the simple comfort of existing in the same space.

Sometimes he’ll text you at random:

jiung: did you ever finish that book?

you: eventually

jiung: you said that two weeks ago

or

jiung: new café opened by the park

the cookies are almost as good as yours

You save them without meaning to.

One weekend, you run into him at the grocery store. 

He’s standing in front of the cereal aisle, frowning like the world depends on this decision.

“Complicated choice?” you tease.

He glances up, instantly smiling. “You caught me. I’m bad at picking.”

You point to the one he usually eats. “That one.”

He laughs. “Still remembering the details, huh?”

“Some things are hard to forget.”

He looks at you for a second too long, and suddenly the air feels warmer than it should.

You end up walking through the rest of the aisles together, tossing snacks into each other’s carts, talking about everything and nothing. When you say goodbye in the parking lot, the sun is already sinking.

“See you soon?” you ask, trying to sound casual.

“Yeah,” he says softly. “You always do.”

───────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

─────────

That night, you sit on your porch again, the same place where he once talked about leaving. 

The street is quiet; a single light glows from a window across the road.

You think about the week he stayed, how every morning had a heartbeat of its own — laughter, coffee, shared silence. You think about how he still smiles at you like nothing’s changed, even though everything has.

And when your phone buzzes again — just a small hey from Jiung — you type back without hesitation.

you: come by tomorrow

jiunh: what for?

you: I made cookies again

jiung: guess I’ll have to be in the area then

You put the phone down and smile.

Maybe the story isn’t changing — maybe it’s just unfolding. 

Slowly, quietly, in all the spaces between ordinary days.

───────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

─────────

It happens on a Sunday.

The air is warm, the light slow and golden, and you’re half-distracted, trying to fix the shelf your brother somehow managed to break before leaving for his weekend trip.

You’re standing on a stool, arms stretched up, when you hear the knock.

You already know who it is.

Jiung doesn’t wait for you to call out; he opens the door the way someone does when they’ve done it too many times to count.

“Need help?” he asks, grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.

You roll your eyes. “Do you ever not show up at the perfect moment?”

He laughs, setting his phone down on the table. “I’d say it’s a gift.”

You climb down, pretending your heart doesn’t race a little faster. “Fine. You can help. But if the shelf falls, I’m blaming you.”

“Noted.”

He takes the screwdriver from your hand, and for a while, it’s quiet. The only sounds are the small scrape of metal and the soft rhythm of his breathing beside you.

There’s something comforting about it — about how easily he fits into the room, how natural it feels to stand close enough that your shoulders almost touch.

When the shelf is finally fixed, he steps back to admire it.

“See? Perfect.”

“You sound proud.”

“I should be. That was a team effort.”

You smile. “Yeah, maybe it was.”

───────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

─────────

He stays longer than he means to.

You make tea. He sits on the couch, legs tucked beneath him, still talking about the most random things — your brother’s new hobby, a movie you both hated, a song that’s been stuck in his head.

It’s easy. Familiar.

But somewhere between laughter and silence, something shifts.

You catch him watching you, the kind of look that holds a thousand unspoken things. You look back, and neither of you say anything for a moment too long.

“Jiung,” you murmur, voice quieter than you intend.

He blinks, as if waking from a thought. “Yeah?”

“Why do you always show up right when I start missing you?”

He exhales, the faintest smile playing at his lips. “Maybe it’s because I miss you too.”

You feel your heart stutter — not wildly, but softly, like it’s known this moment was coming all along.

───────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

─────────

The evening fades slow.

He helps you put the tea cups away, the two of you moving around each other in that quiet rhythm that comes only with time. Every brush of his hand feels deliberate, even when it isn’t.

When he reaches for the same cup you do, your fingers graze, and you both stop.

It’s such a small thing — a tiny pause in an otherwise ordinary moment — but the air thickens with meaning.

He doesn’t pull away.

Instead, his voice drops, low and careful. “You know I’ve been trying not to say something for a while, right?”

You swallow, suddenly aware of how close he is. “Say it now.”

He searches your face, and for the first time, he doesn’t hide behind the calmness or the teasing.

“I like you,” he says simply. “I have for a long time. I just… didn’t want to make things weird with your brother. Or with you. But every time I try to step back, I end up right here again.”

There’s no grand music, no perfect backdrop — just the quiet hum of the evening and the sound of his voice, steady and real.

You whisper, “You’re not making it weird.”

He smiles, almost disbelieving. “No?”

You shake your head. “Because I like you too.”

The silence that follows isn’t awkward. It’s full. Warm. The kind of silence that only happens when everything you’ve been holding back finally settles into place.

He steps closer, slowly enough for you to stop him if you want to — but you don’t.

When he cups your cheek, his hand is gentle, thumb brushing the edge of your jaw like he’s memorizing it.

“Can I—?” he starts, but you don’t let him finish.

You nod.

And then he kisses you.

It’s soft — the kind of kiss that feels like a question and an answer at once. There’s no rush, no urgency. Just him, tasting faintly of tea and summer air, holding you like he’s afraid to break something delicate.

When you part, you stay close enough to feel his breath against your skin.

“I should’ve said it sooner,” he murmurs.

“You said it when you were supposed to.”

He laughs quietly, forehead resting against yours. “You always make things sound easy.”

“They are, when it’s you.”

───────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

─────────

You end up on the couch again, the world outside fading into the kind of peaceful silence that only comes after everything’s been said.

Jiung leans against you, arm draped over the backrest, fingers brushing your shoulder in absent circles.

For a while, you just sit like that — the TV on low, the clock ticking softly, the air calm and safe.

“Does your brother know?” you ask eventually.

“Not yet,” he says. “But I’ll tell him.”

You laugh under your breath. “You make it sound like a confession.”

He looks at you, smiling. “It kind of is.”

You nudge his arm. “He’ll be fine.”

“I know,” Jiung says. Then, quieter: “I just… didn’t think I’d get this far. With you.”

You tilt your head against the cushion. “What do you mean?”

“I thought I’d just stay in your life the way I always have — close enough to care, far enough to not mess things up.” He pauses, a soft exhale. “But then you started looking at me differently. And I couldn’t unsee it.”

You glance up at him. “How was I looking at you?”

“Like I wasn’t just your brother’s best friend anymore.”

The honesty in his tone makes your chest ache in the sweetest way.

“Maybe you never were,” you say.

Later, he walks you to the door, even though he doesn’t need to. The night air is cool now, the sky deep and endless.

He lingers there, smiling that soft, sleepy smile you’ve grown too used to.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” he asks.

“Of course.”

“Good,” he says, almost to himself. “I don’t think I could go another week pretending I don’t want to.”

You laugh, the sound quiet but genuine. “Then don’t.”

He nods, and before he leaves, he presses a quick, tender kiss to your forehead.

“Good night, you,” he says, voice full of warmth.

“Good night, Jiung.”

You watch him go, the sound of his footsteps fading down the street.

When you finally close the door, your reflection catches in the hallway mirror — soft eyes, quiet smile, the glow of something new.

And for the first time in a long while, the house doesn’t feel too big anymore.

It feels exactly right.

───────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

─────────

┆彡 INTAK [ 인탁 ]

he’s so loverboy im actually gonna cry 

he was not build for this please save him from this misery 😿😿😿 

cannot survive without calling you at LEAST twice a day. like for real. 

will spam you with i love yous and i miss yous so so much because he just wants to be sure that you know his feelings for you are unchanged:(

facetiming is a must as well, he’ll often do that at the end of his (or yours if you’re in diff time zone) day so you can talk before going to sleep:( 

won’t admit but loves when you fall asleep on ft:( like at least he can adore your sleepy face like he does when he’s with you:(

deffo buys everything that he thinks you’d like so when you reunite he has BAGS of gifts:(

(can you tell i love him so dearly.)

┆彡 THEO [ 테오 ]

he’s so:< 

checks up on you everyday!!!!! tracks your lil icon on find my and calls you sometimes like “oh i saw you’re in your fav cafe, what are you getting?” 

i believe he’s a romantic okay? so you two deffo have those apps for couples that like ,, you can draw something and it’ll pop up on his screen 

or locket! :( like he loves getting notifs n he deffo stares at the silly selfies you take:(((( 

he also sends flowers for you, sometimes no matter the occasion <\\3 may or may not send a bottle of his cologne because he just knows you’ll feel less lonely if you can smell his perfume🥹🥹🥹

he’s sooo nostalgic❤️‍🩹 will scroll through your pics and videos… watch them all the time… m smile so fondly at the screen (while others make fun of him >:T) 

has bought tickets to your place impulsively… at least three times 

(and obv used them ?! like hellour he won’t waste the money now that he bought them !!! )

┆彡 JIUNG [ 지웅 ]

please end his suffering pt2 

he is physically sick when you’re not around !!! (his tummy hurts… well, his heart too…) 

spams you all day everyday – he saw a cute cat? sent. cool clothes? sent and asking for advice. a dead frog on the street? sent with caption ‘me when you’re 372028193 km away’ 

selfies too!!! you’ll get soooo many selcas bc he just knows you miss his face (and worry not, you send yours in return!! he kicks his legs like a teenage girl whenever he sees them~~) 

facetimes you (or you him) even when doing the most mundane things ever… you could be studying in silence and he’ll be playing on his switch, none of you talking because you’re locked in… but he steals glances at the screen and your face,,, mentally counting down days when you’re gonna meet again 🥹

literally thinks about you sm that he can’t help but mention you whenever he can:( “omg yn would love that!” “oooo this is yn’s favorite snack!!” “i need to take a pic for yn!!!” 

atp his friends scheme how to get him to you ASAP!!!

┆彡 SHOTA [ 翔太 ]

i feel like he’d handle it the worst actually:( but only bc he’s just such a lover boy, he needs you close:( 

keeho or other members will often send you pictures of sulking shota once you hang up on face time <\3 

will spam you even with single kaomojis so you’re an expert with those, professional translator if you will

definitely spams you with lots of content too, like pics of plushies, his short blogs, food pics 

requires food pics in return (secretly makes sure you do eat this way) 

when he’s feeling like a little tease, he’ll send lots of pics with keeho when they’re hugging and caption them with something sassy 😭 

deffo tracks you on find my when he’s bored but deep down he just checks up on you and makes sure you’re safe 

┆彡 JONGSEOB [ 종섭 ]

you’re literally vlogging to each other 😭😭😭 voice memos or insta stories just for him !! 

and you bet your ass he’ll reply to every single one 

loves face timing you when he’s writing new songs… you’re his muse (but it’s not like he’ll say it out loud) 

definitely looks at your pictures with a whipped smile (and got caught sooo many times but they don’t tease him that much since he’s just so in love it hurts

another one to use every app possible to keep in touch w you HOWEVER he’s not very cheesy,,, so expect him to doodle theo with a big butt in return to your hearts and flowers 

sending memes and reels is his love language, will send lots with the caption “us when i get back” :(( 

masterlist <3

taglist. @primoppang ,, @laylasbunbunny ,, @slytherinshua ,, @planetkiimchi ,, @weird-bookworm ,,

soft groans leave him as he stretches his sleepiness away, the rain providing much needed background noise to the overbearing sound of loud men talking about spreadsheets and mergers through his laptop. but jiung could care less when he can watch you from the corner of his eye, one arm wrapped around his waist, face flush against him. 

sometimes he slips a hand from his folded arms to hold yours, his thumb running over your palm — or your engagement ring, toying with the metal band while he nods away to a senior, glasses reflecting himself on the screen. other times he'll unfold his arms completely to massage your back, hiking up your shirt so he can draw freely, calloused hands warm on your skin. 

talks to his co-workers like it's nothing, his glasses tilting everytime he moves or speaks, a gentle laugh leaving him when someone makes another corny joke (peeps from the corner of his eye to see if you've smiled too, makes a mental note use it on you again). 

jiung keeps finding himself trying to bite back his giggles everytime you poke his side. cheeks puffed and lips pursed and nose scrunching when you poke too hard, practically jumps sideways whenever you do so (his face does nothing to hide the smile or his eyes that are so filled with love </3 )

when there's a break he'll slide himself into the covers, pulling you by the waist and holding you so so close.

fixing the position of his laptop to sit gently in front of the two of you. lets you type away and search things up on his laptop, coos at your sleepy state and you'd frown playfully — but can you even blame him?

every single morning jiung finds himself on his knees thanking the heavens for being able to breath the same air as you — can't help but press a quick peck to your lips and your cheek and your nose and quite literally anywhere he reach.

jiung shamelessly oggles you, drinking in your features while you look at some shopping site, bottom lip escaping the grazing of your teeth for a solid moment. a hazy smile fixes itself on his lips, perching himself on his elbow, cheek in hand while the other keeps itself drawing on your back.

"i think I'm in love you," he sighs, breathlessly.you narrow your eyes gleefully. "really?"

he grins. "like I'm really really in love with you," you part your lips to speak but he continues, "like i want you very very much," and kisses the corner of your mouth,"—very—" kiss to your eyelid, "—very—" kiss, "—very much."

but it comes out in a playful whisper, hovering above you to place a gentle kiss to your lips, smiling into your lips and giggling to himself because he genuinely cannot contain himself.

and soon you find your hands slipping into his hair, your own giggles slipping between kisses. his glasses refuse to stay in place, bumping against your own nose. when he finally pulls away his lips curl, lazy and crooked and so in love.

when he hears his co-workers speak through the laptop and he whines, burying himself into the crook of your neck and wrapping his arms tight around you.

jiung will ask you to fix his hair when they call for him, eyes like crescents when you reach above his head to fix the back of it. looking at himself in the camera and can't keep his fingers of his swollen lips. he loves you, choi jiung really really likes you.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ pls reblog & leave feedback （*＾3＾）/～☆

Of course when you first joined, FNC had been skeptical. You didn’t have much experience with the fast-paced TV-style content most idol agencies wanted. Your portfolio leaned more toward short films and visual storytelling filled with cinematic scenes. You weren’t sure they’d go for that.

But when you had proposed making more cinematic videos focused more on showing the boys in their element with minimal talking, they decided to give your idea a chance. Once they saw your early edits, they realized they’d hired someone special, especially when the fans began to notice, and the comments were full of praise.

You’d also been with the team long enough to learn everyone’s quirks and preferences. 

Mina, the lead producer, refused to talk to anyone before she could have her morning coffee. No one dared to break that rule.

Jisoo from styling was a perfectionist, always anxiously fixing the boy's hair whenever a strand would go out of place, even when it was unnecessary.

And Jun, one of the newer camera operators, had a habit of humming under his breath while filming, which you found weirdly comforting even though it drove everyone else insane.

Perhaps that's why you were well liked on the team. You were very observant and good at reading people, knowing what to say and to who. You knew how to read the room and helped things run smoothly, which was always valuable in an industry as busy as this one. The way everyone functioned had become familiar and predictable.

Then there was you of course, who just preferred to get the job done. 

You weren’t unfriendly. You said good morning, bowed when you passed your coworkers, even laughed politely when anyone would make a joke. But you kept a comfortable distance, there was a reason you preferred being behind the camera. 

No one really minded your closed-off nature, though because you always delivered exceptional work. 

The same went for the boys.

Keeho was the easiest to get along with. He was always joking, and had a talent for making sure everyone was comfortable, his leader position fit him well. You’d caught yourself quietly chuckling at his antics more than once, which he’d immediately point out just to fluster you.

Jiung was endlessly polite, always thanking you after shoots, genuinely grateful for your hard work.

Soul didn’t talk much, which was a trait the two of you had in common. You’d often find yourselves at the same table during breaks, eating in silence.

Intak was pure energy, he couldn’t stay still for longer than five seconds, but he always made the mood on set lighter.

Jongseob was surprisingly mature, especially for his age, often checking that you’d eaten on longer days. It reminded you of a little brother you never had.

Theo was... different.

He was a little too much for you at times. He was the kind of person who made it hard to stay in a bad mood because his laugh carried through a room like sunlight filtering in through blinds.

He was nice to everyone, in a genuinely real way. You could tell when people’s smiles didn’t reach their eyes, but his always did.

Still, you never knew how to act around him. There was something disarming about how easily he got through to people, his soft voice wrapped in a blanket of warmth when he spoke. It irked you because … you just weren’t built for that kind of softness.

You didn’t mind keeping to yourself. In fact, you preferred it. While the other staff chatted easily with the boys or joked around behind the cameras, you were content staying on the sidelines and doing your job quietly and efficiently. It wasn’t that you didn’t like them, they were good guys. You just… didn’t see the point in trying to befriend people you’d eventually have to move on from. 

You’d been in enough environments where getting too close only made it harder when everything ended. The most you’d done is have dinner with Jiung one time after you spent the whole day filming him. He’d practically forced you into it and you appreciated it, but the whole night all you could focus on was the familiar ache in your chest whenever someone tried to get close. You went home as soon as you finished eating. 

They all continued to treat you the same way they treated everyone else, not offended by your lack of reciprocation. They pretty much just let you be.

Well, except Theo. You’d caught him watching you a few times before, usually when you were behind the camera, adjusting a lens or checking lighting. He always had this curious look on his face, like he was trying to figure you out. You never gave him the chance. A simple raised brow or flat expression was usually enough to make him look away, a small smile tugging at his lips as if he found your indifference amusing. You didn’t think much of it until today.

You were traveling with them on tour, currently in New York. The morning was chilly, sunlight slipping through the tall glass windows of the hotel lobby where everyone had gathered. Mina stood at the front, tablet in hand, running through the filming schedule. 

She announced they were trying a new concept, one you had actually proposed a few weeks back. Each member would explore the city alone, and the videographers would capture their personal experiences for a more intimate vlog series. You hadn’t expected them to approve it, but Mina had liked the idea right away.

Now, as she listed off the filming pairs, your name came up with Theo’s.

You simply nodded, camera strap slung over your shoulder. You could feel his gaze on you from the corner of your eye, but you didn’t look his way.

Mina finished running through the logistics, reminding everyone to check their mics, stay in touch, and have fun. “And please,” she added, half-laughing, “don’t get lost.” She gave Soul a pointed look.

Theo was the first to approach you once Mina dismissed everyone.

“Hey,” he said brightly, walking over with his hands stuffed in his pockets. “Guess we’re partners today.”

You adjusted the strap on your camera, giving him a small nod. “Looks like it.”

“Well, is there anything specific you want to do?” He asked, rocking back and forth on his feet.

You looked up at him, blinking. “You’re supposed to decide what you want to do.”

“Right, but I mean—” he tilted his head, squinting playfully. “You’re gonna be stuck with me the whole day. There’s nothing you want to see while we’re out?”

You shook your head almost instantly. “It’s not about me Theo. Where do you want to go?” 

You could see him deflate a little at your answer, but he quickly brushed it off. “Honesty, I kinda just want to go with the flow and walk around, see where the day takes us.”

You nodded easily at him and handed him a camera on a mini tripod so he could film himself throughout the day. “Sounds good.”

You both said quick goodbyes to the others before heading towards the hotel doors.

Theo held it open for you, stepping aside with a small flourish. “After you.”

You gave him a brief, unimpressed look, but walked through anyway. The cool New York air hit instantly, crisp and alive, the city buzzing. Theo pulled up the hood of his jacket and fell into step beside you, hands tucked back into his pockets with a light smile on his face. 

“So,” he said as you started walking down the street, “We should probably eat breakfast first. Any ideas Sunshine?”

You shot him a sharp look the moment the word left his mouth. “I asked you to stop calling me that.”

Theo only grinned wider, clearly unbothered. “Yeah, I know. But the annoyed face you make every time I do gives me joy.”

You let out a huff through your nose, opting to ignore the comment he made entirely. “There’s a good bagel place close by,” you said instead, quick to redirect. “It’s my favorite.”

That caught his attention immediately. “Wait, you’ve been to New York before?”

“Used to live here,” you said, eyes on the busy crosswalk ahead. “When I was younger. I have family that still lives here, so I visit sometimes.”

Theo’s head snapped toward you, genuine surprise flashing across his face. “Seriously? You never told me that.”

You shrugged, tightening your grip on the camera strap. “Didn’t think it matters.”

“Of course it matters,” he said, slowing his steps just a little, his voice softer now. “That’s kind of a big thing to just… not mention.”

You looked at him briefly, then away again. “I don’t really talk about myself. There’s not much to say.”

Theo tilted his head, eyes scanning your expression like he was trying to read between the lines. “Now that I think about it,” he said slowly, “you’ve been with us for a while, but we don’t actually know that much about you.”

You exhaled quietly, gaze fixed ahead. “There’s not much to know.” you repeated, this time more firmly.

That was enough for him to get the message. Theo nodded once, falling back into silence beside you. As you crossed the next street, camera swinging lightly against your hip, he glanced at you again and found himself wondering what it was that was making you act so guarded.

When you entered the bagel shop, the smell of toasted bread and roasted coffee wafted around you were hit with a feeling of nostalgia.

Theo looked around with wide eyes, hands buried in his jacket pockets. “This place is cute.” he said, tone bright as always.

You glanced at the menu above the counter. “What do you want? I’ll order.”

He blinked. “You’ll—oh, uh, okay.” He studied the list for a moment before pointing. “Egg and cheese bagel?”

You nodded, already turning toward the cashier. “One egg and cheese bagel, please.”

Theo froze for a moment, taken off guard by your naturally fluent English as you conversed with the cashier. It gave him a bit of whiplash, hearing you speak an entirely different language. It was then that he decided it would be his mission to learn more about you that day. 

You finished with the cashier and moved aside to busy yourself with filming clips of Theo and some b-roll of the shop. He leaned against the wall, glancing at the people bustling outside the window. “So… did you come here a lot when you lived here?”

“Mhm.”

“Do you miss it?”

You shrugged, adjusting the lens. “Not really.”

“Why’d you leave?”

You hesitated for only a second. “Family moved to Korea.”

He nodded slowly, watching your face as you lowered the camera. Each answer was clipped and neutral, but he wasn't going to give up so easily. 

Before he could try again, the cashier called your name. You grabbed the brown paper bag and led the way to a small table near the window.

Theo sat down across from you and opened it up, the smell of warm bread filling the air. He reached inside and pulled out a singular bagel.

“There’s only one..” he said, brow furrowing.

“I’m not hungry.”

Theo blinked at you. “Did you eat before we left?”

“No.”

He scoffed under his breath, tearing the bagel in half and sliding one piece across the table toward you.

“Really Theo, it’s fine.” you said, not even looking up from your lens.

“I hate eating alone.” he said easily, though the small smirk tugging at his mouth gave him away.

You looked at him for a long moment, exhaling through your nose before taking the bagel half. 

He leaned back in his seat, a grin blooming across his face in victory. 

You rolled your eyes and took a small bite, pretending not to notice the way his expression softened as he watched you with quiet satisfaction.

Theo took a bite of his half as he watched you eat with downcast eyes and that’s when he realized that cracking through your walls might take time, but he didn’t mind. Not one bit.

He finished eating (his stomach still growling with hunger that he ignored) and wiped his hands on a napkin, glancing toward the window. “So,” he said, his voice casual but laced with excitement, “how about Central Park next?”

You looked and nodded. “That could work. I can get some good footage there.”

“Perfect,” he said with that usual burst of energy, standing up and slinging his bag over his shoulder. “Lead the way, New Yorker.”

You rolled your eyes but did exactly that, weaving through the crowded sidewalks with ease. The city was busier than usual that day, but you moved through it with muscle memory as you sidestepped tourists without breaking pace. You occasionally walked backwards so you could film Theo, who was following close behind, his hood pulled up and his camera in hand, constantly getting distracted by random things he saw.

“That shop has a 2 for $50 deal!”

You didn’t even glance over. “Those souvenir shops overcharge Theo.”

He pouted but continued walking. 

After several more blocks, you descended the steps into the subway station. Theo’s eyes darted around curiously as the rumble of trains echoed through the tunnels. You filled your MetroCard and motioned for him to follow, moving quickly.

You entered the car just before it closed and it was packed. You immediately adjusted your camera strap and glanced for space. Theo spotted a single open seat near the center.

“Sit.” he said, nodding toward it.

“I’m fine.”

He shook his head. “You’re carrying the camera. Sit.”

You sighed but obeyed, sinking into the seat. He stood in front of you, one hand gripping the metal rail above, the other with the tripod resting against his side as the train lurched forward.

You looked up at him, intending to tell him to hold onto something properly, but your words caught in your throat. The way the low subway lights hit his face, the faint grin playing on his lips, and the loose strands of hair falling into his eyes made him look unfairly attractive. 

Theo caught your gaze almost immediately. His grin widened just a little and he caught the way your lips parted slightly before you changed your expression and turned toward the window.

“Something interesting over there?” he asked, voice light but teasing.

“Just checking how many stops we have left till we need to get off.” you said quickly.

“Mhm.” he hummed, clearly amused, and he swore he could see a light blush dust your cheeks.

When the train stopped at the next station, the doors slid open and a group of passengers shuffled out, pushing Theo closer toward you. He braced himself with one hand on the railing, his legs bumping lightly against yours.

You froze for a second, pretending to focus on an ad but your heartbeat betrayed you, a steady, quickened thrum.

Theo didn’t say a word, but the small, knowing smile on his face said everything. He knew you liked to pretend like nothing affected you, but he could see clearly that this was, and he was loving every second of it.

You shifted in your seat, crossing one leg over the other to create some distance. You told yourself that you were just being polite, it wasn’t about him, or how good he looked hovering above you, or the way your pulse hadn’t slowed since he first caught you staring.

Because you weren’t blind. Anyone with eyes could see that he was attractive, all the members were in their own way. 

But something about Theo just bothered you.

That was the excuse you gave yourself, anyway.

The train slowed again, and the crowd thinned. Theo shifted back slightly, giving you space, though his gaze never wavered.

When you finally stood, your voice came out a touch tighter than you intended. “Our stop’s next.”

He smiled, effortlessly casual. “Lead the way, Sunshine.”

You rolled your eyes but didn’t bother to correct him, mostly because your throat felt too dry to even try.

It was warmer by the time you reached Central Park, the sounds of the city fading into the soft pounding of joggers’ feet, and the occasional bark of a dog. Theo stopped beside a stand of rental bikes, eyes lighting up like a kid at an amusement park.

“Bikes,” he said, pointing at them as if you couldn’t already see. “Can we ride them?”

“We can do whatever you want Theo.”

As you paid for two bikes, he glanced over with a trace of concern. “Are you sure you’ll be okay filming while riding? I don’t want you to get hurt.”

You gave him a dismissive look. “Don’t worry about me.”

He chuckled under his breath, watching as you adjusted your camera strap and climbed onto your bike. “Okay, but if you wipe out, you have to put it in the behind-the-scenes reel.”

“Not gonna happen.” you said, pushing off before he could get another word in.

Theo rode ahead so you could record him, arms stretched out like he was flying, the wind catching in his hair. You followed close by, catching quick shots of him turning around to flash you a grin or shout something you couldn’t quite hear over the breeze.

“Come on, slowpoke!” he called once, circling back to ride alongside you.

“I’m literally filming.” you said flatly.

“Put the camera down for a second. Let’s race!” he teased as he sped off.

You muttered under your breath about his happy energy and how annoying his loud laughter was. 

At one point, you slowed near a quiet stretch of path lined with trees turning gold. Theo rode ahead a little, the sunlight catching on his face as he threw his head back and laughed.

You lifted your camera instinctively. Through the camera he looked so carefree, you felt something stir in your chest. The corner of your lip twitched just barely.

When he turned and caught you filming, he grinned and waved at the camera. He then motioned for you to catch up with him.

As you neared him he called out to you, posing dramatically. “Did you get my good side?”

“Which one?”

“Ouch.” He clutched his chest in mock offense. “That was cold.”

“It was a genuine question.” you corrected.

Theo laughed, the sound bright and effortless as the two of you came to a stop near a large patch of open grass. “Alright, alright,” he said between breaths. “You win. My ego and my legs are officially tired.”

You raised an eyebrow at him. “Aren’t you supposed to be athletic?”

“Don’t mock me. I’m delicate.”

You huffed and pointed toward a shaded area beneath a tree. “Let’s sit there. It’ll look good on camera too.”

Theo followed you over without complaint, tossing himself dramatically onto the grass as you recorded him. You knelt to frame a few shots of him leaning back, the wind ruffling his hair, sunlight dancing across his face. You recorded different parts of the park as well. 

You got a few clips of him gazing off toward a couple playing with a frizz bee before he turned his head to you. “You should sit. You’ve been filming nonstop. You’ve earned a break.”

“I’m fine.” you said automatically, still adjusting your lens.

“Sit.” he said again, more firm this time.

You sighed but finally lowered yourself onto the grass a short distance away, keeping a comfortable, professional gap between you. You glanced down at your camera, already flicking through clips.

“Of course,” Theo muttered with mock exasperation. “Do you know what break means.”

You ignored him.

That is, until his hand suddenly reached out, plucking the camera right from your grasp.

“Hey—!” you started, eyes wide.

He held it just out of reach, smirking. “Enjoy the moment. Look, trees, birds, fresh air! Enjoy nature, Sunshine.”

You scowled. “I’m here to work, not to relax.”

“I don’t care.” he said simply, lounging back onto one hand and holding your camera away like a taunt.

“Theo, seriously. Give it back.” You reached for it, but he quickly shifted, laughing.

“Say please.”

You glared. “Give. It. Back.”

“Didn’t sound like ‘please.’”

You leaned in again, trying to grab it, but he kept moving it just out of reach, his laughter getting louder every time you missed. Finally, he leaned farther back, bracing on his elbow with that infuriating grin still plastered on his face and before you realized it, you were leaning over him, your hair falling slightly forward as your fingers grazed the edge of the camera. 

You froze. Your eyes flicked up to his, close… too close, and for a split second neither of you moved. His smirk softened, eyes flickering over your face like he’d just realized the same thing.

Your breath caught, and you quickly pulled back, muttering, “Fine. Whatever.”

You sat down again, arms crossed tightly over your chest, refusing to look at him.

Theo chuckled softly, victorious. “See? Isn’t this nice?”

You shot him a sharp glare but he only grinned wider, leaning back on his elbows again in satisfaction.

Theo stretched out on the grass, letting the sunlight warm his body, before finally turning toward you. “So… did you use to come here often when you lived in New York?”

You shook your head, looking out at the path ahead. “Not really.”

He tilted his head, curiosity still in his voice. “And… do you prefer Korea over—”

You cut him off, voice low and serious. “Theo.”

His grin faltered, and for a fraction of a second, the usual brightness that seemed to radiate from him dimmed slightly.

You met his gaze. “Why do you keep asking about my past?”

He exhaled softly, running a hand through his hair. “I just… I want to get to know you.”

You let a small shrug escape, eyes returning to the trees. “I appreciate the sentiment, but you don’t have to pretend to care.”

That seemed to hit him harder than you expected. He blinked, mouth opening slightly, caught off guard. “I’m… not pretending.” he said quietly, the faintest edge of hurt in his tone.

“Then… why do you want to get to know me better?”

He had no answer. The silence stretched, the air suddenly thick with tension. Theo chewed the inside of his cheek, clearly searching for words.

You noticed it immediately and softened slightly, though your expression remained serious. “Really, it’s okay.”

“I… I’m sorry,” he said finally, quiet and sincere. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable with the questions. You don’t have to talk to me if you don’t want to. I didn’t mean to overstep your boundaries.”

You stayed quiet, letting him speak, watching his posture tense slightly. Then, after a moment, he stood abruptly, brushing off his hands on his pants. He forced a smile back onto his face, a little too wide and manufactured.

“Anyway,” he said, stepping toward your bikes. “we should return the bikes and go get lunch.”

You followed silently, feeling a twinge of guilt twist in your stomach. You’d shut him down quickly and dismissed his curiosity as if it were nothing, even though… maybe he was genuinely interested.

As you pedaled back toward the exit, your thoughts ran wild. Maybe he really had wanted to know you. Maybe he cared.

And then, just as quickly, the familiar walls in your mind came back up. He was just being kind, you told yourself. He didn’t actually care about you. It was just… politeness.

You tightened your grip on the handlebars, forcing your face into a neutral expression, convincing yourself that it was fine.

But a small, stubborn part of you couldn’t shake the quiet pang of regret at his forced smile. 

You returned the bikes and Theo bounced slightly on his feet as he asked, “Are you craving anything.”

You shrugged. “If we’re in New York, we should probably eat pizza.”

His eyes lit up. “Pizza? Perfect. Lead the way.”

You guided him through the bustling streets toward one of the city’s iconic 99¢ pizza joints. The smell of baking dough and melted cheese hit immediately as you stepped inside.

You set up your camera as he grabbed a slice, the gooey cheese stretching almost ridiculously as he lifted it. He made exaggerated faces while taking a bite as you recorded the cheese pull.

After finishing, you wandered through the streets again, following him with your lens. Theo dragged you into a few stores, letting you film as he tried on all sorts of ridiculous things. He kept laughing at himself in the mirror and sometimes at you, clearly enjoying the chance to just be a normal person for a while.

Then you spotted a small vintage guitar shop tucked between a cafe and a record store. You pointed it and Theo’s eyes practically sparkled. “Let’s go in here.”

The bell above the door jingled as you entered, and Theo looked around in amazement. The worker noticed and said, “Go ahead, play whatever you want.”

He didn’t hesitate. He picked up a Sunburst Stratocaster first, strumming a few chords before moving on to a more worn acoustic. You stayed off to the side, camera in hand, watching as his playful energy lulled to a calmer one.

He looked so at peace while he played. You could tell just from watching him how passionate he was and how natural it felt for him. The shop’s amber lighting wrapped around him, highlighting the curve of his jaw and the soft focus in his eyes as his fingers moved effortlessly across the strings.

You adjusted the camera, zooming in slightly, trying to pretend that this was purely for work. But the truth was, you couldn’t look away. He felt different in this moment compared to the Theo he’d been the rest of the day. You felt like you were getting a real glimpse into him. 

He started humming a song under his breath and you lowered the camera slightly, caught off guard by his soft vocals.

When he finished the song, his fingers stilled on the strings, and the last note lingered in the air like a held breath. He looked up and met your eyes.

You realized you’d been staring, but you didn’t look away this time.

His lips stretched into a small, almost vulnerable smile that made you blink slightly. 

Then, as if it were completely natural, he returned his attention to the guitar, letting the strings sing under his fingers some more.

You swallowed hard, trying to shake the flutter in your chest. You felt ridiculous. You were supposed to be documenting his trip, not… whatever this was.

You lifted your camera again, hoping it could hide your expression. 

“You sound good.” you managed to let out, voice quieter than you intended.

Theo looked up again, a spark of amusement lighting his face. “Yeah?” he asked, still strumming. “You think so?”

You shrugged, keeping your tone casual even as your heart betrayed you. “Not too shabby.”

He grinned at that, the teasing glint returning to his eyes. “High praise from you.”

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t ignore the feeling bubbling in your stomach. “Don’t let it go to your head.”

“Too late.” 

Then he looked back down at the guitar and started to play a lighter, happier tune this time. You turned around when you felt yourself smiling, and he caught sight of your reflection in a glass case, his pulse racing at the fact that he made you smile. 

It hit him then, how strange it was that someone could feel like a storm one moment and like calm the next.

And as you turned back to watch his fingers glide effortlessly over the strings, you thought, maybe for the first time in a long time, that letting someone in might not be as terrifying as it used to be.

—

You left the shop with Theo grumbling over wishing he could buy the guitar.

“Well if you wanted it so bad you should have bought it.”

“But I already have one I have to carry for tour.” he said dramatically, glancing back at the storefront as if the instrument might levitate to him.

“Okay well too bad then.”

“You’re mean…” he muttered.

You continued your walk of the city, filming Theo as you go. 

When you turned a corner, a crowd had gathered around a group of street dancers, and you stopped to watch.

“Whoa…” Theo muttered, eyes wide with amazement as he took in the performance.

His smile stretched from ear to ear, that kind of unfiltered happiness that made him look slightly juvenile. When one of the dancers pulled off a particularly impressive spin, Theo turned toward you, eyes bright. “Did you see that? That was insane!”

You blinked at him, momentarily caught off guard by how animated he looked. The corners of your lips twitched, a thought sneaking in before you could stop it, cute.

You immediately shook it off. Nope. Not going there.

He tossed a few bills into the open guitar case at their feet. As you continued your walk Theo spotted a coffee shop and turned to you. “Want to grab some coffee?”

You sighed. “Whatever you want.”

He led you to the shop without a response. Theo held the door open for you, giving you a cheeky little bow when you passed.

“Such a gentleman.” you said unimpressed.

“Only for you.”

You rolled your eyes. “That was cheesy.”

“So,” he said, stepping up to the counter. “Some cheesy things are nice.”

You shook your head at his words, and went to grab a table while he ordered. You set your camera down and quietly began replacing the drained battery.

By the time you snapped the new one into place, Theo was back. He slid into the seat across from you, placing a drink in front of you with a casual grin.

You looked up at him, then down at the green liquid in confusion. “I didn’t ask for anything.”

“I know,” he said simply, already sipping from his own straw.

You blinked. “Then why—”

He just shrugged, eyes twinkling with that annoyingly smug satisfaction.

You narrowed your eyes suspiciously at the drink. “How do you even know I like matcha?”

He didn’t miss a beat. “You always drink it on shooting days.”

You hated how he said it so casually, as if it was totally normal to pay attention to something like that.

“Oh.” you said simply, the word slipping out before you could stop it.

You wrapped your hands around the cup, hesitating for a second before taking a small sip. It was exactly how you liked it, not too sweet, perfectly smooth.

Theo leaned back in his seat, watching your reaction with a small, knowing smile.

“It’s good, right?” he said, all too pleased with himself.

You took another sip, refusing to meet his eyes. “It’s fine.” you muttered, but the satisfaction in your tone betrayed you.

A few quiet seconds passed, as you sit in silence. Then under your breath, you mumbled, “Thanks.”

Theo smiled wider. “You’re welcome, Sunshine.”

You sighed deeply at the nickname, but this time, you didn’t have the energy to correct him. You just took another sip of your matcha, pretending not to notice the way he was still looking at you, like he’d just uncovered something about you no one else had.

—

When you exited the coffee shop, Theo sighed beside you, stretching his arms above his head.

“I can’t think of anything else to do,” he said, glancing at the sky that had begun to turn orange.

You slowed your steps, hesitating. There was one thing you thought of. A place you hadn’t been to in years since your last visit. You looked down at your watch. If you left now, you could just make it.

Theo noticed your expression immediately. “What’s up?”

You chewed the inside of your cheek, debating for a moment before saying, “I know a spot to watch the sunset.”

He tilted his head. “Yeah?”

“If we walk fast, we’ll make it in time.”

Before he could ask anything else, you turned sharply. “Come on. No time to explain, just follow me.”

Theo blinked, startled, but quickly fell into step behind you, laughing under his breath. “You’re very mysterious today, Sunshine.”

You ignored him, weaving through the evening crowd, your pace brisk. Every few blocks, he asked where you were going, and every time, you just shook your head. “You’ll see.”

As the sun dipped lower, you started jogging lightly. Theo laughed, his breath coming out in short bursts beside you. “You’re seriously making me run through Manhattan right now?”

“Do you want to see it or not?” you called back, holding your camera steady as you slowed just enough to capture him mid-laugh. His grin was wide and loud, pure, genuine happiness. You had to bite back a smile of your own.

You turned down a narrow alleyway and stopped in front of an old brick building. The door was padlocked, but you knelt and pulled it open just enough to slip through. Theo stared at you, eyes wide.

“You’re kidding.”

You rolled your eyes. “Relax. I’m not gonna kill you.”

“I wouldn’t put it past you.” he muttered, but followed anyway.

The stairwell was dusty and smelled faintly of old paint. You climbed quickly at first, but by the fifth flight, you were pausing to catch your breath.

“This better be worth it.” Theo huffed behind you, dramatically leaning on the railing.

“Stop whining,” you said, panting a little. “We’re almost there.”

When you finally reached the top and pushed open the heavy metal door, a rush of golden light spilled through and Theo fell completely silent.

“Holy…” he breathed, stepping forward.

From the rooftop, the city stretched endlessly in every direction, the skyline bathed in a soft amber glow. The sun was halfway gone, sinking between the skyscrapers, turning every glass surface into molten gold.

You smiled faintly, your chest tight but full. “Told you it was worth it.”

Theo turned to you, his eyes wide, a disbelieving grin on his face. “This is unbelievable.”

You lifted your camera and began shooting him immediately.

After a few minutes, you let the camera hang from your neck and stepped up to the ledge, leaning against the barrier as the city stretched beneath you. Theo joined you know, clearly full of questions.

He glanced at you. “How’d you find this place?”

You froze for a moment, that old, familiar tension flickering in your chest. But before he could take it back, you said softly, “I spent a lot of time alone as a kid. Did a lot of exploring.”

He nodded slowly, but didn’t interrupt. The fading light air brushed your skin in a pretty red hue, and he found himself memorizing the moment and how calm and open you looked, even if it was only a little.

You exhaled softly, almost to yourself. “It really never gets old. It’s perfect, isn’t it?”

“Yeah.” he said, gaze fixed on you.

He turned back to the skyline as silence settled between you again, but this time it was comfortable. The hum of the city below was distant and muted as if the world had shrunk to just this rooftop and the two of you.

After a moment, you spoke, your voice quieter now. “Hey… about earlier. At Central Park.”

Theo blinked, caught off guard. “What about it?”

You hesitated, fingers brushing against the edge of the rooftop. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you. You were just trying to be nice, and I—” You sighed, searching for the right words. “I overreacted.”

Theo’s expression softened. He leaned slightly closer, resting his forearms on the barrier beside you. “You don’t have to apologize,” he said gently. “I was being nosy.”

“You were being curious,” you corrected, glancing at him briefly. “There’s a difference.”

He smiled faintly at that. “Still. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

You shrugged, staring out at the skyline again. “You didn’t. I just… don’t really open up to people that easily.”

“I noticed,” he teased.

You rolled your eyes and shook your head as he laughed, leaning forward to rest your chin on your hands. 

Theo took a deep breath beside you, then with a certainty that made you glance his way, he said quietly, “You will.”

You tilted your head, one brow raised. “I will what?”

He turned to meet your gaze, his plump lips curling into that infuriatingly smug smile of his. “Open up to me eventually.”

You blinked, caught between amusement and disbelief. “Oh yeah?”

“Mhm.” he hummed, the corners of his mouth tugging higher into a confident grin. “Im very charming. You’ll break soon enough.”

You scoffed, crossing your arms. “You’re insane.”

He threw his head back and laughed, loud and carefree, the sound echoing faintly against the nearby buildings. When he looked back at you, there was a spark in his eyes.

“You’ll see.”

He sounded so sure of himself. You shook your head, pretending to focus on the skyline again, adamant on holding back a smile.

If he noticed, and you were sure he did, he didn’t say anything. He just stood there beside you, both of you bathed in the last light of the setting sun.

—

When you both got back to the hotel, the sky was dark and lit up by the city lights. 

Theo stretched his arms above his head with a groan. “Well,” he said, glancing at you with that familiar lopsided smile, “Thanks for your hard work today.”

You took the hand held camera from him and replied casually, “Just doing my job.”

He made a low sound of protest, shaking his head. “You seriously can’t just take a compliment, can you?”

You shot him a small, amused look but didn’t answer.

Inside the elevator, the two of you stood side by side. The soft hum of the mechanics filled the silence until Theo spoke again.

“I had a lot of fun today.” he said, his reflection catching yours in the mirrored walls.

You stayed silent, staring straight ahead.

After a moment, he turned so he was standing directly in front of you, brows raised. “What?” you asked flatly.

He tilted his head. “Did you have fun?”

“It was alright.”

Theo squinted, unconvinced. “Alright?”

“Yeah.”

He folded his arms, that playful stubbornness glinting in his eyes. “Be honest.”

You let out a frustrated sigh. “I am honest.”

When the elevator dinged and the doors slid open, you immediately tried to step past him but he shifted just enough to block your way.

“Theo,” you muttered warningly.

“Just answer the question!” he insisted, his grin threatening to break through.

You rolled your eyes, gave him a light shove, and managed to squeeze past. As you walked off, he called your name.

You turned, eyebrows raised.

Theo’s expression eased, the teasing fading. “Did you have fun with me?” he asked, his voice quieter now, hopeful and shy beneath the confidence.

You blinked at him, heart skipping for just a moment. The elevator doors began to slide closed, and before they shut completely, you managed a simple, “Bye, Theo.”

He stood there, staring at the metal doors long after they’d sealed shut.

When he finally made it up to his shared room, Jiung was sitting on his bed reading a book. He looked up immediately. “What took you so long?”

Theo blinked. “What do you mean?”

“The rest of us got back hours ago.” Jiung said, giving him a surprised look.

Theo paused, then shrugged nonchalantly. “Guess we lost track of time.”

He washed up and got ready for bed, the earlier events replaying in his head. 

He had just climbed into bed when his phone buzzed on the nightstand. He reached for it lazily then froze when he saw your name on the screen.

A single message.

I did.

Theo smiled so hard his cheeks ached. He flopped back onto his pillow, phone pressed to his chest, and muttered into the dark, “Knew it.”

—

In your hotel room, you sat at the tiny desk, plugging in your sd card, the familiar chime echoing as your folders began populating the screen. Theo’s card sat beside yours, waiting its turn.

You leaned back in your chair, stretching your sore shoulders as progress bars filled the screen. The silence in the hotel room felt peaceful compared to the hustle and bustle of the city. As your mind drifted, you caught yourself thinking that, surprisingly, the day really hadn’t been half bad.

You turned back to your laptop just as the first few clips appeared in the preview window. You clicked on a random video and watched Theo’s grin as he strummed the guitar happily. He looked so carefree and in the privacy of your room you watched as you smiled. 

Then you slid Theo’s SD card into the reader.

Folders popped up instantly and you began transferring the footage. As they loaded, one of the thumbnails caught your eye.

You leaned forward to look at it and you froze, it was you.

Curious, you double-clicked.

The video opened to shaky footage of you riding your bike through the park, your hair whipping in the wind as he followed behind, laughing softly under his breath. You could hear his voice faintly. “Look at her go…” he mumbled, amused.

Your heart stuttered.

You scrolled down to another video. This time, you were crouched in the park, capturing b-roll of the scenery. Theo’s camera zoomed in slightly. You heard him hum quietly, almost absentmindedly, before whispering something you couldn’t make out.

One clip turned into two, then three. Each one was the same, him filming you without you realizing.

You furrowed your brows, your stomach tightening at the unexpected discovery.

You hovered over your phone for a moment, thumb ready to type out a message. But after a long pause, you set it back down and shook your head.

“Don’t overthink it.” you muttered to yourself.

You finished the transfers, organized the folders, and shut the laptop with a soft click. The room dimmed, lit only by the amber glow of the table lamp.

As you slid beneath the sheets, the quiet returned. But your mind didn’t rest. It replayed flashes of laughter, of sunlight over his hair, of that boyish grin that shouldn’t have been stuck in your head as much as it was.

The last thing you thought about before sleep took you was his voice humming softly.

—

The next day you were able to sleep in a bit before heading to the venue that they were playing at that night. You arrived with your camera slung over your shoulder and ready to shoot some BTS content. 

You got to their dressing room, stepping in and bowing while greeting the staff and the boys that were present. 

A chorus of hellos greeted you back, but your gaze stopped when Theo’s head lifted from where he was sitting on the couch. His face brightened instantly, that familiar grin stretching wide.

“Hey,” he called out, motioning you over with a wave.

You walked over, trying to ignore the way you could feel your cheeks warming under his gaze. You mentally cursed your body for the reaction.

“Morning.” you said, keeping your tone neutral as you fumbled with your camera.

“Morning,” he echoed, eyes bright. “How’d you sleep?”

“Fine.” you replied quickly.

He nodded, his grin lingering. “How’s the footage looking?”

“Really good,” you said honestly. “I think the video’s going to turn out great.”

He looked pleased by that, leaning back against the couch. You hesitated as you debated whether to say what was on your mind.

Finally, you did. “By the way… I noticed some of the footage you took yesterday.”

“Oh yeah,” he said casually. “Actually, can you give me the SD card when you’re done with it?”

You blinked. “Why?”

He shrugged, the corner of his mouth twitching up. “I want to save the videos.”

You tilted your head, confused. “Why?” you repeated.

This time, his grin widened, lazy, playful, and it made your stomach flip.

“Because,” he said simply, eyes locking with yours, “you looked happy in them. Pretty too.”

The room suddenly felt smaller, but you could sense Jongseob and Jiung were listening to your conversation. You blinked, caught completely off guard, and Theo just smiled. 

Your cheeks heated instantly. You shifted your weight, trying to mask the way your pulse jumped at his words. “I still don’t understand why you’d want to keep them.” you mumbled, avoiding his gaze.

Theo tilted his head, like he was debating whether to tease you or give a real answer, but before he could reply, a knock sounded at the door and their manager poked his head in. “Soundcheck in five.” he called.

Theo stood, brushing off his pants. “Guess that’s my cue.”

You crossed your arms, watching him warily.

He turned just before leaving, that same faint smirk tugging at his lips. “Don’t delete them, alright?”

You scoffed, trying to play it off. “I will.”

“Don’t.” he said, voice gentle before he turned to go.

As he walked out of the room, Jiung and Jongseob exchanged looks with silent amusement. You rolled your eyes and huffed out a breath but your face still felt warm long after Theo disappeared down the hallway.

You made your way down to the venue floor with a few of the staff, camera in hand and badge swinging against your chest. The arena was mostly empty, lights half-dimmed, the sound of instruments being tuned echoing faintly through the space.

The boys were already on stage, mics in hand, testing the sound as the techs adjusted their levels. Theo’s laughter carried easily, rich and warm through the speakers, and before you realized it, your lens was pointed directly at him.

They ran through a few verses, Theo’s voice effortlessly smooth and he turned to joke with Intak between songs. The sight made something tighten and twist pleasantly in your stomach. You hated it.

You lowered the camera slightly, pretending to check your settings, but your eyes still drifted back to him and his grin and the faint sheen of sweat on his temples under the stage lights.

God, why did he have to look like that doing nothing?

You shook your head, willing the thoughts away. You were here to work. You forced your attention to the rest of the members, capturing shots of the band and stage crew, anything to keep yourself focused. But your camera always seemed to drift back to Theo.

And when he finally caught your gaze from the stage, he grinned and waved at you and you quickly turned the camera away, heat rising to your cheeks.

Annoying. That’s what he was. Completely and utterly annoying.

The rest of the day, you did your best to avoid him.

It wasn’t exactly easy and  Theo seemed to appear everywhere, but you kept your distance, keeping conversations short and professional, always pretending to be too busy to talk.

By the time you got back to your hotel room that night, exhaustion had set in. You pulled your laptop onto the bed and started editing. Hours passed without you realizing and the coffee you bought to keep you awake had gone cold. The clock blinked 12:57 am when your phone buzzed beside you.

You picked it up, squinting at the screen.

Did you eat yet?

You frowned. 

Why?

A few seconds later, his reply came.

You ask that too much. Just answer the question.

You rolled your eyes at the reply.

No. I’ll eat later.

He read the message immediately but didn’t respond.

You sighed and tossed your phone aside, muttering under your breath, “Why is he even texting me?” You tried to refocus on the footage again, dragging clips into the timeline.

When a knock suddenly echoed from your door a few minutes later, you froze.

You glanced at the clock, 1:04 a.m. Who would knock at your door this late?

Another knock.

Setting your laptop aside, you got up and padded over to the door, looking through the peephole.

You furrowed your brows and cracked the door open. “What are you doing here?”

Theo looked annoyingly energetic for someone who’d just performed in front of thousands of people. “What do you mean, ‘what am I doing here?’ You said you’d eat later. It’s already 1 am.”

Your eyes widened. “You came all the way here to—”

“Come on,” he interrupted, grinning. “Let’s grab something quick. I checked google and there’s a 24-hour diner a few blocks away.”

You blinked at him, confused. “Aren’t you tired from the concert?”

He shook his head. “Not really.”

You stared at him for a long moment, trying to read whatever ridiculous logic was fueling this. But part of you figured… maybe a quiet walk through the city one last time before heading to the next stop wouldn’t be so bad. You knew you wouldn’t be back in a while.

“Fine.” you said finally.

Theo’s face lit up instantly. “Good. Let’s go. You don’t need to bring anything.” He turned to leave, clearly expecting you to follow.

“Wait—I just need to change.” you said quickly.

He stopped, turning back to you with one brow raised only for his gaze to drop automatically. His eyes flicked over the oversized hoodie you were wearing, down to your long bare legs, and his mouth twitched into a smug grin.

“Yeah… you probably should put on some pants,” he said casually. “It’s pretty chilly out.”

You scowled at the insinuation that you weren’t wearing anything underneath, grabbing the hem of your hoodie and yanking it up just enough to show the pair of shorts you had on. “I have shorts on.”

That only made his grin widen. His eyes darted back down lingering a second too long and your cheeks burned at his gaze. “I’ll be back.” you muttered quickly, and before he could tease you again, you slammed the door shut. 

You pulled on a pair of gray sweatpants, ran a quick hand through your hair, and opened the door again.

Theo was leaning against the wall across from your room, phone in hand, but he immediately looked up when you stepped out. His lips curved into that now too familiar smile. “Ready?”

“Yeah.”

He straightened and led the way down the quiet hall. The sound of your footsteps echoed faintly against the patterned carpet as you entered the elevator.

“Is anyone else coming?”

He shook his head. “Just me.” Then, a moment later he added, “That okay?”

You simply hummed in reply.

True to his word, the diner was only a few blocks away. The air outside was crisp, the streets nearly empty except for the occasional taxi or late-night wanderer. The neon sign of the diner flickered in warm red and white, reflecting faintly on the wet pavement from an earlier rain.

Inside, it smelled like coffee and pancakes. There were only a few other people scattered around, an old man reading a newspaper, a couple sitting close in a booth, two tired-looking students sharing fries.

You and Theo were seated by a window. The vinyl seats creaked as you sat down across from each other, menus sliding between your hands.

Theo leaned forward, brows scrunched as he focused on the English words. When the waitress came over, he asked her a couple of questions about the burger he wanted, stumbling through his phrasing with that charming determination that made him oddly endearing.

When she left, you couldn’t help but comment. “Your English is getting better.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “Barely.”

You let the silence settle after that, both of you gazing out the window. A man walked past, hands in his pockets, followed by a couple laughing quietly as they disappeared down the street.

Eventually, your food came. The clinking of plates broke the calm as you each thanked the waitress quietly.

Theo took a bite of his burger, then leaned back. “So,” he began, “how are you liking touring so far?”

You swallowed a bite of your sandwich before answering. “I’m grateful,” you said honestly. “It’s… nice, getting to travel, especially for free. And I like how busy it keeps me.”

He nodded slowly, chewing thoughtfully. “Do you find it stressful?”

You shook your head. “No. Especially not compared to you guys.”

He tilted his head curiously.

“I mean,” you continued, “I can only imagine how much pressure it is to perform every night and meet everyone’s expectations.”

Theo’s lips curved into a small, thoughtful smile. “It’s gotten easier over the years,” he said. “But yeah. In the beginning? It was tough. Really tough. It took a while before we felt confident enough on stage to not be nervous for every performance.”

You nodded, listening quietly, your gaze flickering between his face and the reflection of city lights in the window. You could tell by the way he spoke that he really loved what he did.

“This is also our longest tour yet,” he added after a moment. “Do you ever feel homesick?”

You paused mid-bite, then slowly shook your head. “Not really.”

His brows lifted slightly. “You don’t miss your friends or family?”

You hesitated, eyes dropping to your plate. “There’s not… many people to miss.” you said quietly, then bit into your sandwich again, hoping the motion would end the conversation.

Theo’s expression softened instantly. He didn’t say anything, but his eyes lingered on you a moment longer than before, just a little bit sad.

You let out a small, awkward chuckle, hoping to shake off the heaviness that had settled over the table.

“You don’t have to look at me like that.” you said lightly, trying to sound nonchalant.

Theo blinked. “Like what?”

“Like you feel bad for me.” you clarified, giving him a half-smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes.

He opened his mouth to defend himself, but before he could, you tilted your head, studying him. “Is that why you’re talking to me more than usual?”

His reaction was immediate, “No, not at all!” he said quickly, leaning forward slightly as if to make sure you believed him.

You hesitated, then asked, softer this time, “Then why?”

It reminded you of the park the day before when you’d asked the same question but with sharpness in your tone, trying to push him away. This time, though, it came out quieter, genuine, and curious.

Theo chuckled under his breath, the sound low and easy, diffusing the tension that had crept between you. “Is it that hard to believe that I just want to get to know you?” he asked, eyes glinting under the warm diner light. “And to be friends.”

His words made your chest feel oddly tight. You looked away from his gaze, focusing instead on your plate. “Well, I’m not good at having friends.” you murmured.

He shook his head immediately. “That’s not true.”

You looked up, and his expression was firm. “I get it,” he continued. “It might be harder for you to open up. That’s okay. But I just… genuinely want to be your friend. I think you’re cool, you know?” he spoke with a shrug.

That made you blink. “It’s that simple?”

He grinned, leaning back against the booth. “Yeah. It’s that simple.”

You found yourself nodding slowly, still processing his sincerity.

Theo took another bite of his burger, chewing thoughtfully before looking back at you again. “You know, I know you like to keep your distance from everyone at work.”

You frowned slightly, unsure where he was going with this. He noticed and added quickly, “I don’t mean it in a bad way. It’s just… you’re always so formal. Professional. Like there’s this invisible wall between you and everyone else.”

You picked at a fry, pretending not to care even though his words hit closer than you wanted to admit.

He leaned his elbows on the table, studying you with quiet sincerity. “But you don’t have to be like that all the time. Not with us.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but he kept going, his tone gentle. “I don’t know why you are like that,” he said honestly. “But I do know that there are a lot of people who’d also want to be friends with you. You just have to take it easy sometimes… not be so closed off.”

You felt your throat tighten a little. In your head, a dozen memories flashed, all the moments that shaped the way you were. The times when being too open had backfired. When your kindness was mistaken for weakness. When trusting people only led to disappointment.

You wanted to tell him all of that. To explain that it wasn’t just a choice.

But instead, all you managed to say was, “It’s hard.”

Theo nodded immediately, as if he understood more than you expected him to. “Yeah,” he said softly. “I know. But just try, okay?”

You looked back at him and at his small, encouraging smile. The reassurance in his eyes told you that he wasn’t asking for anything in return, just your effort, and something inside you eased just a little.

“So,” he said, raising an eyebrow as he reached for his burger again, “friends?”

Your cheeks warmed at his tone, half teasing and half earnest. “Sure.” 

“Good.” he said, satisfied, and took another bite of his burger.

Back at the hotel and in the elevator, he clicked the button for only your floor. You reached out to click the button for his and he stopped you, saying he wanted to walk you to your room.  You tried telling him it was unnecessary, but all he did was shoot you a look, lips twitching. “Shhh.”

You sighed but didn’t argue, too tired to. The silence in the elevator only made you more aware of how close he stood next to you, his shoulder brushing yours. 

When you reached your floor, he followed right beside you until you stopped in front of your door. You turned to face him, feeling a little awkward now that you arrived and he was still standing there.

“Okay,” you said, fumbling for your keycard. “You can go now.”

Theo let out a small laugh, clearly amused by your stiff tone. His eyes sparkled as he tilted his head slightly. “You’re so awkward, it’s really cute.”

Your eyes widened. “What??”

He just grinned. “Goodnight.” he said, taking a few steps back before turning around and walking down the hall.

You stood there for a second, processing, before shaking your head. “Irritating.” you muttered under your breath.

Inside, your suitcase sat half-open on the floor, clothes spilling out in a mess of exhaustion and procrastination. You looked at it and groaned softly. “I’ll wake up early.” you told yourself, kicking off your shoes and climbing into bed.

The room went quiet except for the faint hum of the air conditioning. You lay there staring at the ceiling, and without meaning to, your mind drifted back to the sound of Theo’s voice.

So friends?

You sighed, pulling the blanket up to your chin.

Why not, you thought. You’d known been with the team for months already, and everyone else on the crew seemed so close.

It wouldn’t hurt to be more friendly with them.

Only a little, you told yourself.

—

The next few weeks of tour passed by in a similar manner. It was a blur of early mornings, flights, and busy schedules. The change in your demeanor was gradual after your conversation with Theo. You were still your same old self,  focused, reserved, and brooding, but it showed in small ways. 

You started hanging back more with the crew instead of immediately retreating to your hotel room. You laughed more at the jokes that were told and engaged in more meaningful conversations with them. The crew picked up on the shift especially when you began to feel more at ease. It wasn’t a huge transformation, but to everyone who had gotten used to your quiet professionalism, it was enough to make their hands tilt in question.

And with Theo… well.

He had made it his mission to linger in your space as much as possible. No matter the situation, he always seemed to end up near you, tossing comments your way that had you rolling your eyes. And every day, he pushed a little further.

During rehearsals, he’d always find a reason to stand near your camera. 

“Shouldn’t you be, you know, rehearsing instead of bothering me?” you’d say without looking up from your viewfinder.

Theo would grin, leaning just enough into your shot to be a nuisance. “I’m giving you good behind the scenes footage.”

“Or ruining everything I’m recording.” you muttered dryly, trying to adjust the focus.

He backed away slightly at your sarcasm. “You always look so serious. It’s kind of intimidating.”

You glanced up at him now. “Good. Maybe you’ll leave me alone.”

He grinned. “Not a chance.”

And for some reason… you were starting to not want him to.

The following week, the “solo day in NYC” videos went live and the response to his video was… overwhelming, to say the least.

You scrolled through the comments: 

“This lowkey felt like a short film.”

“Why do I feel like I am there with him.”

“You can tell the person behind the camera really understands him.”

You scrolled through them in bed that night, your stomach twisting strangely. You hadn’t meant for it to come across that way, you’d just captured him how you saw him in the moment.

Later that day while you were backstage helping the crew set up, Theo approached you. His expression was sheepish, his hands tucked into his hoodie pocket.

“So, uh,” he began, glancing at the camera in your hands, “I watched the NYC video.”

You didn’t look up. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He hesitated, then broke into a small, sincere smile. “It turned out really good. Like… really good.”

You snorted. “It was all you, I just filmed.”

He laughed quietly, rubbing the back of his neck. “No, seriously. You have a talent. The way you filmed and edited it, seriously you’re so talented.”

His words caught you off guard. Compliments never sat easily with you, and you weren’t sure what to do with the warmth that spread in your chest.

You shrugged lightly, eyes flicking toward him. “Well, thank you.”

The first time Theo really felt like he was breaking through to you was a few days later. You were all sitting backstage in a dressing room. The others were sprawled out, half-asleep or watching videos. Theo sat across from you, fidgeting with a phone tripod.

Without warning, he pointed the camera at you. “Say hi to the vlog,” he announced.

You looked up, deadpan. “No.”

“Come on, it’s just for me.”

“You’re so annoying.”

Theo gasped dramatically, clutching his chest. “Annoying? Me?”

You raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “Yes. You.”

He turned to Keeho who was lounging on the couch scrolling through tiktok. “Keeho, do you agree? Am I annoying?”

Keeho didn’t even look up from his phone. “Absolutely.”

You giggled at that, the sound escaping before you could stop it.

Theo turned back to you instantly, catching that sweet little laugh like it was a rare melody. A smile tugged at his lips, softer than his usual teasing grin. “It’s funny,” he said, tilting his head, “the first time I hear you laugh, it’s when I’m being insulted.”

That only made you laugh harder as your shoulders shook a little. His expression was a perfect mix of disbelief and amusement, and the more bewildered he looked, the harder you laughed.

He leaned back in his chair, still smiling to himself as he watched you try to catch your breath. Through all the teasing, he felt triumphant. 

It didn’t take long for the others to notice.

Theo wasn’t exactly subtle, they had all quickly noticed how much he seemed to be hanging around you. 

One night they were having dinner together in one of their hotel rooms when they confronted him.

“Okay,” Keeho said suddenly, his tone playful but suspicious. “I’m just gonna say it — what’s going on between you two?”

Theo froze mid-bite. “What do you mean?”

Jiung smirked from where he sat on the floor, leaning back on his palms. “Come on. You’ve been glued to her side lately.”

“And we all noticed how she’s changed a bit these past few weeks,” Intak added, grinning. 

“How so?” Theo asked, crossing his arms.

“She smiles more,” Keeho said immediately, pointing his chopsticks at him. “Like, way more. You realize how rare that used to be?”

Jiung nodded. “Yeah, and she actually talks to us a lot more, too. You got her to loosen up.”

Theo tried to hide his grin, staring down at his plate. “Maybe she’s just more comfortable with everyone now.”

“Uh-huh,” Keeho said, raising a brow. “Or maybe it’s because of you.”

Intak leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand. “Be honest, hyung. Do you like her or something?”

The room went quiet. Theo’s fingers drummed lightly on the table as he thought for a moment. Then, with the same casual tone one might use to comment on the weather, he said, “Yeah.”

All three of them froze mid-chew.

“Wait— what?” Keeho blinked.

Theo shrugged, pretending not to notice their reactions. “Yeah. I do.”

Jiung’s mouth fell open slightly. “You’re serious?”

Theo gave a half-smile. “I mean… since she started working with us, she’s just been… I don’t know, interesting to me. I tried to talk to her before, but she never really gave anyone the time of day.”

Keeho chuckled, nodding. “Oh, I remember that. You’d say hi and she’d just nod and walk off.”

“Exactly,” Theo said, laughing softly. “But after that day in New York, when we hung out— I don’t know. I saw a different side of her. She’s funny, smart, and she actually talks to me now so that helps.”

Intak tilted his head. “Do you think she likes you back?”

Theo hesitated, twirling his chopsticks between his fingers. “I don’t know,” he admitted quietly. “She’s hard to read. But I’m not gonna do anything about it.”

“Why not?” Keeho asked.

“Because she just agreed to try being friends,” Theo said simply. “I’m not gonna mess that up.”

The others nodded slowly, the teasing fading into understanding.

“Fair enough,” Jiung said. “Still, it’s kinda wild seeing you like this.”

Theo only hummed, pushing rice around his plate, but his mind was elsewhere. His thoughts lingered on you and he wondered if you could ever feel the same way.

You slowly began opening up to him more, something Theo did not take for granted.  

One night, you found yourself sitting alone by the hotel pool, the water reflecting the soft lights above as your thoughts wander. You were so engrossed in the sight that you didn’t notice him walking up until he was right beside you.

“Taeyang.” you said automatically, turning to greet him.

He froze mid-step, caught completely off guard by the sound of your voice using his real name. His brows lifted slightly, and he looked at you, trying to hold back a smile.

“What’s wrong?” you asked, noticing his reaction.

He chuckled softly and sat down beside you, leaning back on his hands. “You… said my name.” he said simply, eyes still on yours.

You felt your cheeks heat up immediately. “I heard someone in the crew say you like it when people call you that.” you mumbled, looking down at your hands.

He nodded, smiling lightly. “I do.”

You gave a small nod in response and quickly turned your gaze back to the shimmering water, trying to hide the blush creeping across your face.

He leaned a little closer, tilting his head. “What are you doing out here all alone?”

You shrugged lightly, your gaze still fixed on the water.

“Something on your mind?” he asked gently.

You hesitated for a moment, debating whether to give him your usual “nothing,” but there was something in his tone that made you feel brave enough to say it. You looked up at him, meeting his expectant gaze, and finally admitted, “It’s my birthday.”

His eyes widened in surprise, and for a moment he just stared at you. “I… didn’t know.” he said quietly.

You shrugged, trying to downplay it. “It’s not a big deal.” you murmured, forcing a small smile.

Theo didn’t push or say anything else, simply settling into the quiet beside you. He let you take your time, giving you space to open up at your own pace.

After a long pause, you exhaled softly, finally letting your guard down a little. “Since I was young… my parents were always busy,” you began, voice low. “And over the years… they just… stopped caring about birthdays. So I… I don’t really like to celebrate.”

Theo listened quietly, his gaze fixed on you, silent but attentive.

You continued, a bitter sort of laugh escaping you. “I… foolishly stay awake as long as I can… hoping they’ll call or remember. But they never do.”

He didn’t interrupt, just kept his eyes on you, his comforting. You could feel that he wasn’t judging, wasn’t trying to fix anything, he was just… there, letting you speak.

You hesitated for a moment, the words feeling heavy on your tongue, but the quiet patience in Theo’s gaze gave you courage. “I… I guess this is why I am the way I am,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “A lot of it comes from… neglect, I guess. From parents who were always too busy to notice me, or too wrapped up in their own lives to care.”

He nodded slowly, encouraging you to continue without a word.

“I moved around a lot as a kid,” you continued, the memories stirring a mix of frustration and sadness. “Different cities, different schools… never really settling anywhere. I never had the chance to make friends or attachments, because everything always felt temporary. So I… I learned to keep my distance, to not get close to anyone. It just… felt safer that way.”

Theo leaned slightly closer, his presence steady but not intrusive. “That sounds… really hard.” he said quietly, his tone gentle, but there was no pity in it.

You nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat. “Yeah… it made me… closed off and distant… I guess I built walls so I wouldn’t get hurt or disappointed.”

You took a deep breath, finally letting your gaze meet his. “I… I guess I’m telling you all this to say that I shouldn’t let it affect me anymore. And… you helped me realize that I don’t have to be like that. So… thank you.”

Theo blinked at you for a moment, caught off guard by the sudden softness in your voice. He shook his head lightly at your words. “You don’t have to thank me.”

You give him a small smile and turn back to the water as the two of you sit in silence, just enjoying each other's presence. 

You gave him a small, teasing smirk. “Don’t get used to me being this sentimental.”

Theo raised an eyebrow, smirking. “Oh, don’t worry. I won’t.”

You glanced at the sky, the stars just starting to peek out. “We should probably get some sleep.”

He nodded slowly. “Yeah… probably.”

You pushed yourself up from the edge of the pool, brushing off your hands. “You coming?”

“I’m gonna hang here for a bit.”

You nodded and gave him a small smile. “Alright. Goodnight, then.”

You head up to your room started your usual bedtime routine, your mind still replaying the conversation by the pool. Just as you were about to set your phone down and drift off, a notification lit up the screen: Theo.

Are you awake?

You blinked, fingers hovering over the keyboard before replying: Yes.

A moment later, another message popped up: Open your door.

Confused, you got up and slowly opened your door. There he was, holding a cupcake with a single candle flickering softly. You froze, your heart catching unexpectedly.

“Can I come in?” he asked gently, his tone careful, almost afraid you would say no.

You nodded, stepping aside, still wide-eyed. He entered your room, cupcake in hand, and you followed, your curiosity warring with your shyness. He hesitated for a moment, scanning your face before a soft, reassuring smile broke across his features.

“Your birthday does matter,” he said quietly, almost reverently. “Your life is worth celebrating, and it doesn’t matter if you or anyone else doesn’t see it that way… because I do.”

You were rooted to your spot, overwhelmed by the sincerity in his voice. He cleared his throat gently and began to sing Happy Birthday, his voice low and soft. Step by step, he closed the distance between you, his gaze never leaving yours.

When he finished, he stood just in front of you, holding the cupcake with the flickering candle. “Make a wish.” he prompted, his smile bright but gentle.

You looked into his eyes for a long moment, your chest tightening, before finally glancing down at the candle. With a small breath, you blew it out. Theo’s grin widened as he set the cupcake on the table and when he turned,impulsively, you wrapped your arms around him. He stiffened slightly, caught off guard, but then slowly returned the hug, his hands sliding around your back. He held you there firm against his chest, as if trying to shield you from all the disappointments of past birthdays.

Your head rested against his chest, and you could feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. After a moment, you pulled back slightly, and he noticed the glimmer of tears in your eyes.

“Hey…” he murmured softly, brushing one away with his thumb. “I didn’t want you to cry.”

You shook your head lightly, your voice trembling. “That… that’s the sweetest thing anyone’s ever done for me.”

Before you could stop yourself, you pulled him back into another hug. This time, there was no hesitation. He tightened his arms around you, burying his face lightly against your hair. His warmth, his presence, and the gentle weight of his body made you feel safe in a way you hadn’t allowed yourself to feel in years.

You stayed there for what felt like an eternity, letting the quiet comfort between you settle. 

—

The final stretch of tour came quickly, and exhaustion was setting in for everyone, even the brief moments of downtime felt fleeting. You could feel the weight of it all settling over the group, everyone was looking forward to finishing and finally getting a little rest.

You tried to show your support for everyone as much as you could in little ways, especially with Theo who was particularly tempered by the fatigue he was trying to hide. 

You quietly passed him snacks when you noticed he was skipping meals. You made sure his water bottle was always full, placing it within easy reach without making a fuss. When he paused to catch his breath or wiped sweat from his brow, you offered a quiet smile or a small nod of encouragement.

In the back of your mind you also caught on to the slightest change in your dynamic, though you kept it exactly there, in the back of your mind. You caught him looking your way constantly, and though you pretended to focus on your own work, you felt the warmth of his attention. He’d lean slightly closer when discussing anything or quietly brush his hand against yours when handing something over, just little touches here and there. 

He also became bolder with his teasing, playfully nudging you or smirking whenever you did something small for him.

“You've been spoiling me recently.” he’d joke when you handed him a water bottle or passed him a snack.

You’d brush it off with your usual defense, tilting your head and saying, “Don’t get used to it,” or “I’d do this for anyone.”

He never seemed deterred. In fact, his teasing seemed to grow alongside the subtle gestures you continued to make for him, like a game neither of you fully admitted to playing. 

And though you pretended to be indifferent, there were moments when his attention made it impossibly hard not to feel it deep in your stomach, a reminder that your small acts of care hadn’t gone unnoticed.

You and Theo spent more time alone than you even realized at first. Late-night talks in one of your hotel rooms, quiet morning walks, sneaking away for coffee and matcha runs. 

You talked about everything and nothing. Sometimes, he’d ramble about his interests, other times you’d sit in silence. 

One day when you were walking back to the hotel he said, “You know, I thought at one point you were kinda mean.”

You rolled your eyes. “Wow thanks.”

He laughed, shaking his head. “No, listen, now I know you’re actually the sweetest person, you just pretend to be all ‘I’m so mean and stoic. Grrr’.”

You looked at him in disgust. “First of all I don't sound like that. Second of all, when have I ever growled??”

He burst out laughing, delighted at your reaction. “Come on, admit it,” he teased, leaning closer. “You’re so sweet.”

You rolled your eyes. “You’re an idiot.”

Before you could react, he looped an arm around your shoulders from behind, resting his chin near your temple. “You can’t fool me,” he said with a smug smile. “I know you like hearing it.”

You squirmed in his hold, trying to shake him off. “Get off, Taeyang!”

He only laughed harder, holding on just a second longer before finally letting go. You shot him an exasperated glare, but the tiny smile tugging at your lips betrayed you.

—

It was finally their last show, and this time you watched from the crowd as the boys took the stage for the final time.

Theo caught your gaze more than once, and every time, your heart gave a small, traitorous flutter. You’d seen them perform countless times, but this one marked the end of your first tour with them and it felt bittersweet. 

When the confetti began to fall during their encore, you slipped backstage before their final song ended. The sound of the crowd still rang through the air when they ran off stage, flushed and breathless, laughter and cheers filling the space. Staff members handed them flowers and a cake while everyone shouted congratulations.

You stood off to the side, smiling softly at the chaos. Then Theo’s eyes started scanning the room until they landed on you. His grin widened instantly, bright and genuine, and you couldn’t help but clap for him.

When things began to settle, he made his way toward you, sweat still glistening on his temples.

“Congrats,” you said, your smile widening. “You did it.”

“Don’t I deserve a hug then?” he asked, half-teasing, half-hopeful.

You blinked. “Is that… necessary?”

He didn’t even bother replying, just pulled you into his arms before you could protest. You squirmed at first, muttering something that was drowned out by your lips pressing against his chest, but your resistance melted fast. His arms were warm and solid around you and without realizing it, you squeezed him a little tighter.

When you finally pulled back, your face was flushed, but your tone was sincere. “Seriously, though—you guys were amazing. The whole tour, not just tonight. You should be proud.”

His teasing expression softened. “Thank you,” he said quietly, meaning every word.

Someone called his name from across the room, pulling him back to reality. You gave him a gentle nod. “Go,” you said. “Enjoy the moment. You earned it.”

He hesitated for a second, part of him didn’t want to leave, but then he smiled at you one more time before walking away, disappearing into the sea of celebration.

— 

The company arranged a rooftop dinner celebration and small party for everyone at the hotel and you all changed and freshened up before heading to the roof. 

When you got up there, most people had already arrived. The rooftop was buzzing with conversation, laughter, and the clinking of glasses. Fairy lights crisscrossed above the tables, and the warm evening breeze carried faint traces of music from the speakers.

You glanced around, spotting clusters of staff and members talking. You made your way to the drink table and poured yourself something cold, taking a moment to enjoy the small reprieve from the chaos of the past few weeks.

When you turned around, your eyes met Theo’s from across the space. He was standing with Soul and Intak, laughing at something they said until he noticed you. His grin faltered and you waved lightly. His gaze trailed down your body, over your dress and down to your heels, a little too noticeably, before you turned and walked toward another videographer you worked closely with. You could practically feel his eyes on you as you chatted, pretending not to notice.

When it was time for dinner, you sat with some of the staff while Theo joined his members at another table. You tried to focus on the conversation around you, but every so often, you’d catch that same heavy gaze lingering your way. You’d look up just in time to see him glance away, poorly pretending to listen to Keeho talk.

After dinner, the music picked up as people danced and sang. You stayed for a while, smiling, nodding, taking it all in, but it wasn’t really your scene. So after a few more minutes, you quietly slipped away toward the elevators.

You pressed the button and stepped inside. The doors had nearly closed when a hand darted through the gap, forcing them back open. Theo stumbled in, a little breathless, one hand braced against the wall.

You blinked at him. 

He huffed, straightening up with a small pout. “Were you avoiding me?”

Your brows furrowed. “What?”

“You didn’t talk to me all night.” he said, his tone a mix of teasing and genuine offense.

A laugh slipped out of you before you could stop it. “I wasn’t avoiding you, Taeyang.”

He nodded slowly. “Why are you leaving early?”

You shrugged, pressing the button for your floor. “It’s just… not really my vibe. What about you?”

His answer came easily. “Because I’d rather be with you.”

You froze, heat creeping up your neck. You quickly covered it with a roll of your eyes and a fake yawn. “What if I don’t want to hang out? I could use some sleep.”

He leaned back against the wall with a grin that was far too pleased. “Then that’s not my problem.”

You turned away, cheeks warm despite your best effort to seem unfazed, as the elevator hummed quietly around you.

You reached your room and swiped your keycard, holding the door open for him. Theo hesitated for a second before stepping inside, the soft click of the door closing echoing through the quiet room. He slipped off his jacket, tossing it onto a nearby chair, and rolled up his sleeves. You tried not to look but your eyes still flicked to the movement, catching the veins along his forearms before you quickly turned away.

You needed air.

Crossing the room, you pushed open the balcony doors and stepped outside. The night breeze met you immediately and it cooled your burning skin. You leaned against the railing, inhaling deeply, trying to calm the flutter in your chest.

A moment later, you heard the door slide again. Theo stepped out, his hair slightly tousled from the wind. He sank onto the small couch near the railing, his elbows resting on his knees as he looked out at the view. For a few quiet moments, neither of you said anything.

You finally turned toward him, resting your arms on the railing. “How are you feeling?” you asked softly. “Now that it’s over, I mean.”

He tilted his head back, thinking. “Relieved,” he admitted, exhaling with a faint laugh. “But it’s always sad when a tour ends.”

“Yeah… I get that.”

He looked up at you, his expression softening. “What about you? How was your first tour with us?”

You smiled faintly, eyes glimmering at the memories from each city and country visited. “Incredible,” you said after a moment. “I’ll never forget it.”

He hummed in reply and you gazed up at the sky.

When you finally turned your head back, he was still watching you, the faintest curve of a smile playing on his lips. His gaze lingered on your hair, your eyes, the way the moonlight shone down over your face.

“You look beautiful.” he said quietly.

You froze, heart skipping a beat, unsure what to do with the warmth creeping up your neck. Before you could even think of how to respond, Theo’s lips twitched into a faint smile. “I’ve been wanting to talk to you all night,” he said, voice low, “just so I could tell you that.”

You tried to brush it off, mumbling something about him being tired, but he stood up from the couch and stepped closer, until he was in front of you and your back was pressed against the railing. The quiet between you thickened. 

“I mean it,” he said again, firmer this time. “You’re beautiful.”

You glanced away, trying to collect yourself, but his gaze didn’t waver. He looked down with a small, shy smile before admitting, “I’ve always thought so. Since the first time I met you.”

That made your breath catch. You turned back to him, curiosity flickering in your eyes.

He looked up again, meeting your stare. “You know,” he continued, leaning in just a little, “I had a little crush on you back then, when you first started at FNC. But every time I tried to talk to you…” He chuckled softly. “You’d shut me down.”

You swallowed hard, the sound loud in the still air. “Sounds like me,” you murmured, half-embarrassed, half-amused.

Theo hummed in agreement, his smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Yeah. But you’re not the person I thought you were.” His voice lowered, quiet and sincere. “You’re kind. And gentle. And sweet. And caring…”

He trailed off, eyes falling to your lips before he spoke again, barely above a whisper. “I really want to kiss you right now.”

Your pulse thundered in your ears as he leaned in, slow enough to let you pull away if you wanted to but you didn’t move.

“Tell me to stop…” he murmured, his breath brushing against your skin.

You didn’t say a word.

So he closed the remaining space, pressing his lips softly, almost hesitantly, against yours.

He started slow and tentative, but as the kiss deepened, you found yourself melting into it. Your hands moved without thinking, clinging to the fabric of his shirt like a lifeline. He felt warm and solid beneath your fingers.

Theo pulled back just enough to let you breathe before pressing his lips to yours again, harder this time. His hand reached up to cup your cheek, his thumb tracing gentle circles on your jawline. You moaned into the kiss, feeling your body flush further with heat.

He walked you back slowly, hands coming up to massage lightly over where your back had been pressed against the railing while simultaneously fitting your body snug against his. He sat down on the couch, pulling you on top of him in the process.Your hands rested on his shoulders as you kissed, until you had to pull back for a breath. His lips transitioned to your neck, trailing kisses down your throat and you arched your back towards him, offering him more access, and he took it, his tongue dancing along your skin.

"Taeyang…" you moaned out his name, barely recognizing it as your own voice.

He smiled against your neck, kissing lightly as he mumbled, "You sound so pretty." 

You pulled his lips back against yours, kissing him deeply. Your hands slid around his neck, tugging gently at his hair. He groaned into the kiss, arching against you. But suddenly, doubt began to creep into your mind. Wasn’t this happening way too fast? What if you were letting yourself get too close? You weren’t used to anyone actually caring this much, and the thought of being so vulnerable made your chest tighten.

And then the familiar whisper of self-doubt followed: Why would he even want this? He probably doesn’t really care about me, he’s just being nice. 

Your lips were beginning to stutter against his, hands loosening in his hair. The warmth of the moment with him felt real, yes, but your mind kept pulling you back, reminding you of the walls you’d built and the years of being overlooked. You tried to push the thoughts away, but they lingered, stubborn and insistent.

What if he changed his mind? What if he got tired of you, just like everyone else eventually did? The fear of being left behind clawed at the edges of your mind.

And deeper still, memories of past hurt surfaced, flashes of all the times you had been disappointed, ignored, or abandoned, making your chest ache. Every instinct screamed to pull back, to protect yourself before it was too late, even as your body ached to stay close to him.

Theo’s brow furrowed as he noticed your sudden stillness, the tension in your body. “Hey… are you okay?” he asked softly, reaching out.

Something inside you snapped back into the harsh reality of your fears. You climbed off him quickly, pressing your back against the balcony railing, putting as much distance as possible between the two of you as your breaths came fast and shallow.

Theo rose immediately, concern etched across his face, taking a careful step toward you. “What happened? Did I—”

You raised your hand, shaking your head slightly. “No… you… you should leave.” you said, voice tight, trembling despite your effort to sound steady.

His confusion and hurt flashed in his eyes. “Wait… what did I do wrong?”

You felt your chest tighten, tears threatening to spill over. “Theo… please,” you whispered, your voice cracking. “Just… leave.”

He stood there, frozen for a moment, his gaze lingering on yours as if searching for some clue. Your own eyes watered, guilt twisting through you because you could see how much you were hurting him, even as you were trying to protect yourself.

Finally, Theo nodded slowly, his jaw tight, shoulders heavy with the weight of your words. Without another word, he turned and walked away, leaving you rooted to the spot.

Once the sound of his footsteps faded, you sank to the floor, your back against the railing. Your hands trembled as you brought them to your face, gasping for air, trying to calm your racing heart—but the dam broke. You cried, silent sobs wracking your body as the mixture of fear, guilt, and longing surged through you.

Even with him gone, the ache of what you wanted and what you feared twisted inside you, leaving you raw and trembling on the balcony, all alone.

You only managed to get an hour of sleep before your alarm went off. Your eyes felt heavy, head pounding from exhaustion and from everything that had happened the night before. You dressed quietly, movements robotic, forcing yourself to focus on packing up your last few things before heading downstairs to the lobby.

The group was already gathered when you arrived, the boys clustered together with their luggage. Your heart jumped when you spotted Theo among them, also visibly tired, his hair still damp from a shower. You quickly averted your gaze, mumbling a brief greeting to the staff before busying yourself with checking your bag to distract yourself.

You didn’t look at him once.

Even when you could feel his gaze flickering toward you, pleading for you to look at him, you pretended not to notice. You kept your focus on the floor, on your phone, on anything that wasn’t him. The tension between you was heavy.

At the airport, things didn’t get easier. You walked ahead of the group when you could, always finding a reason to sit far from them, to double-check your equipment, to scroll mindlessly on your phone. Thankfully, the seating arrangements for the long flight home put the boys in first class while you and the staff sat in economy. For the first time, you were grateful for the uncomfortable seats.

You spent most of the flight pretending to sleep, headphones in, trying to drown out your thoughts, but every time you closed your eyes, you saw him again. The confusion in his face. The hurt. .

When the plane finally landed, everyone looked exhausted but relieved to be back home. The group gathered near baggage claim, chatting quietly as they waited for the company cars that would take them to the building where their own cars were parked.

You stood apart from them, your hands gripping the handle of your suitcase, the weight of the last twenty-four hours pressing down on you. You couldn’t take it anymore, the proximity, the guilt, the way your heart twisted just knowing he was nearby.

So, before anyone could say anything, you turned and started walking toward the exit.

He called your name.

Your heart clenched at the sound of his voice and the desperation behind it. You froze for a split second but forced yourself to keep moving, speeding up your pace until you slipped through the automatic doors and out into the cool air.

Behind you, Theo stood still, watching you leave with a heavy expression, fist clenched tightly by his side. The only thing he could do was wonder if he’d pushed too far, or if he’d ever get the chance to fix what went wrong.

The company had given everyone a well-deserved week off after months of nonstop traveling. Normally, you would have been grateful for the break, taking the chance to catch up on sleep, to rest your body, maybe work on a side project. But instead, it only made the quiet of your apartment feel unbearable.

You tried to distract yourself with editing, with cleaning, with anything that could keep your mind busy. But your thoughts always drifted back to him. The way he laughed. The way he’d hover near your camera during rehearsals. The way he would always try so hard to make you feel wanted. You hadn’t realized how used to being around Theo you’d become until now, when his absence felt like a hollow space you couldn’t fill.

But you ruined it.

You told yourself it was for the best, that it would’ve happened eventually anyway. He would’ve gotten tired of you, of your walls, your distance, your inability to let anyone stay too close for too long. That’s just how things always went.

Still… you couldn’t help but hope. Hope that maybe, just maybe, he’d text. Or call. Or send some dumb picture like he used to. But your phone stayed silent, and the longer it did, the more reality began to set in.

By the third night, the loneliness became almost too much to manage. The quiet of your apartment pressed against your ears until you felt like you were on the verge of a breakdown. Eventually you started to wonder how you’d gotten so used to being like this, so accustomed to isolation that it had become your normal.

Without Theo, without his light, his warmth, the darkness around you felt colder and so much harder to escape.

You mentally prepared yourself as much as you could to be back in the FNC building. You had no filming schedules with the boys that day, but you knew they’d be there.

When you arrived, you headed straight to your office, keeping your head down and your earphones in as if that alone could make you invisible. You buried yourself in editing, putting together clips from the tour your eyes blurred and your shoulders ached. You didn’t even leave for lunch, too afraid of running into him in the halls. 

When the building finally began to empty and the lights dimmed, you packed your things and lingered a little longer just to be sure. By the time you stepped into the quiet hallway, it was nearly dark outside. The only sound was the soft hum of the air vents and your own heartbeat in your ears.

You reached the elevator, pressing the button with a shaky hand. You waited for the elevator to reach you, and the metallic doors slid open, revealing the only person you had been avoiding.

Theo.

The second his eyes met yours, the world seemed to still. Neither of you said a word. Seconds passed, stretching painfully into what felt like hours.

Your throat tightened, and before you could think twice, you turned sharply, deciding to take the stairs instead. But before you could take a step, his hand wrapped around your wrist and he tugged you in just before the doors closed. You stumbled from the force, your chest colliding with his. The familiar scent of his cologne engulfed your senses, a scent you'd missed more than you cared to admit, and it made your heart race.

You immediately pushed yourself off him, your breath unsteady as you refused to meet his eyes. The enclosed space of the elevator didn't help, and you wondered what you did in your past life to deserve this torment.

The elevator ride down is silent and suffocating. The hum of the machinery fills the cramped space, and yet it feels deafening. Neither of you say a word, and somehow that makes it worse.

When the doors slide open, you rush out immediately, desperate for air and distance. But his footsteps echo behind you.

He says your name so softly, so quietly, and this time it stops you in your tracks. You turn around slowly, your heart pounding as you finally meet his gaze.

And that’s when you see what you’d done to him. The exhaustion in his eyes. The sadness sitting heavy on his face. The faint slouch in his posture.

His voice is gentle when he finally speaks. “Can we talk?”

Something in his tone cracks through your defenses. It’s not angry or demanding… just tired. So tired that it makes your throat tighten. You fight to keep your expression unreadable, to slip back into that calm, unbothered version of yourself that he used to know.

“There’s not much to say.” you manage.

He shakes his head slightly, eyes locked on yours. “That’s a lie.”

You open your mouth, then close it again, and just as you’re about to turn away, a loud growl erupts from your stomach.

The sound echoes embarrassingly in the quiet lobby.

Your eyes widen and your cheeks flush instantly, burning hot as you look away.

Theo blinks, and then his brows knit together. “Did you… eat today?”

You want to lie. You want to tell him yes, that you’re fine, that he doesn’t need to worry. But the truth slips out before you can stop it. You shake your head, eyes still averted.

He exhales softly, nodding once. “Let’s go eat.”

You open your mouth to protest, but nothing comes out. So instead, you just nod faintly and follow him, your steps quiet beside his as you both make your way into the street. 

You’re quiet the entire way to the restaurant. Neither of you speak, afraid that one wrong word might shatter everything. When you reach the restaurant and finally sit down, the air is still heavy, the only sound coming from the soft clinking of dishes and the faint slurping of noodles between you.

You find yourself both comforted and nervous. Comforted because his presence, despite everything, still feels familiar and safe. Nervous because you don’t know what to say, how to explain the mess in your head, or whether you even should.

When the meal ends and the bill arrives, you slip your card into the pocket but Theo just looks at you for a moment before gently sliding it back across the table. 

You stare at him, wanting to argue, but the look in his eyes leaves no room for it. So you just exhale, defeated, and let him handle it.

Once outside, the cool night air greets you. You stand together for a moment and he asks, “Do you live close?”

You nod. “Yeah, just a few blocks.”

“I’ll walk you.” he says simply.

“You don’t have to…” you reply immediately, already shaking your head.

He gives you that same look again and it reminds you of that night in New York when he walked you back to your hotel room even when you insisted he didn’t need to. You’d felt safe then. You feel that again now, and so once again you accept the defeat with a soft sigh.

The walk starts off quiet, footsteps echoing softly against the pavement. You can tell he wants to say something when his jaw flexes slightly and his hands fidget in his pockets. Eventually, he exhales and breaks the silence.

“I’m sorry,” he says quietly, his tone almost uncertain. “For making you uncomfortable… that night.”

You stop walking. He keeps talking before you can interrupt. “I wasn’t planning on doing that, or even confessing to you at all. I just—” he pauses, glancing down at the ground, “—I told myself I’d keep it to myself. But I couldn’t help it.”

You take a deep breath, your chest tightening as you finally look at him. “Theo… you didn’t make me uncomfortable.”

He turns toward you, brow furrowed in confusion.

“I don’t want you thinking that’s why I stopped,” you say, shaking your head firmly. “You didn’t do anything wrong. You didn’t… you didn’t hurt me. So please, stop blaming yourself.”

He studies you for a long moment, searching your expression. His voice comes out fragile this time.

“Then why did you stop?”

You open your mouth, but no words come out at first. The weight of his question lingers and you finally take a shaky breath.

“I stopped because…” you trail off, your throat tightening, “because there’s no point, Theo.”

His brows knit together, confusion flashing across his face. You force yourself to keep going, even though every word feels like it’s scraping against your chest.

“I know it won’t work out. It never has with me.” You gesture vaguely between the two of you, unable to hold his gaze for long. “Relationships, love, trust… it always gets messed up. It’s easier to just accept that than pretend.”

Your words come out harsher than you intended, as if you’re trying to convince yourself more than him. “I’m just… not the type of person made for being with someone. And that’s okay.”

For a moment, there’s only silence. You finally look up at him, expecting him to be angry, or maybe relieved. But instead, he just looks at you completely bewildered, heartbroken even. His eyes search yours, as if he can’t quite believe the things you’re saying about yourself.

When he finally speaks, his voice is low but full of emotion. “Why can’t you believe that you’re deserving of love?”

The words hit you like a punch to the guy. You inhale sharply, your composure cracking. The sincerity in his voice and the pain in his eyes is too much. You look away quickly, blinking back the sudden sting in your eyes. 

“Theo—” you start, but he cuts you off immediately, his tone firm but not harsh.

“No,” he says, shaking his head. “I’m not gonna listen to you talk about yourself like that. Like you don’t deserve love. Because you do.”

You stare at him, stunned by the sudden fire in his voice. “It’s not that simple,” you say quietly, your throat tightening again. “It’s going to be too hard, Theo. You’ll get tired or I’ll ruin it. I’m not your problem to deal with.”

“Please! Please be my problem!”

Your breath catches. He steps closer, close enough that you can see the earnest desperation in his expression.

“You keep talking like you’re some burden I’d eventually want to get rid of,” he says, his voice trembling slightly. “But I don’t see you that way. I never have. I already know you push people away. I know you hold back because you’re scared people will leave and you’ll get hurt.”

You open your mouth to argue, but he doesn’t give you the chance.

“You don’t get to decide what I want,” he continues, taking another slow step forward. “And I’ve already decided. What I want is you.”

You blink hard, feeling your chest ache under the weight of his words. He exhales shakily, his tone gentler now.

“I’m not asking you to be perfect. I just want you to stop running from the idea that someone could actually stay. Because I’m not leaving, not unless you make me.”

For a moment, neither of you move. You can only stand there, heart pounding, eyes glistening, wondering how he could possibly mean every word, and terrified because a part of you believed him.

He steps closer until there’s barely an inch between you, his eyes searching yours like he’s afraid any sudden movements will scare you off. Then, gently, his hands come up to cup your cheeks. His palms are warm against your skin, thumbs brushing over the faint trace of tears that hadn’t fallen.

“Please,” he whispers, his voice thick with sincerity. “Just try—for me. And I’ll prove to you that this can work.”

For a long moment, you can’t speak. The quiet trust in his expression makes your head spin. Somehow, despite every fear, every wall, every doubt screaming in your mind… you nod. Slowly, but surely.

A breath of relief escapes him, and then he’s pulling you into his arms—so tight that he lifts you and your toes barely brush the ground. You sink into his hold, your hands clutching the back of his shirt.

He buries his face into your neck, breathing you in like he’s been starving for the comfort of you. His voice is low and rough against your ear. “You have no idea how hard this week was without you.”

Your throat tightens, guilt curling in your stomach. “I’m sorry,” you whisper, but he just shakes his head against you, his lips brushing your skin.

“Shh,” he murmurs, his hold firm and gentle all at once. “You don’t have to be sorry. You’re here now.”

When he finally sets you down, you keep your eyes on him, your heart hammering. The words come out before you can second-guess them. “I’ll try.”

The smile that spreads across his face is blinding, pure, unfiltered happiness. And the way he looks at you like you’ve just handed him the world makes heat rush to your cheeks.

He tilts his head, his grin turning playful. “If I kiss you, are you gonna push me off again?”

You roll your eyes and shove lightly at his chest, though your lips are already twitching with a smile. “You’re so annoying.”

He laughs, a soft, joyous sound that melts the last bit of tension between you and before you can say anything else, his hand finds your cheek again, and he pulls you into a sweet, lingering kiss.

He pulls away just enough to press a soft kiss to your forehead. The simple gesture sends warmth rushing to your cheeks, and before you can even recover, he grins and squeezes them gently between his fingers.

“You’re so cute.” he says with that teasing tone that never fails to fluster you.

You groan, swatting lightly at his chest. “Stop.”

But you don’t move away, and that only makes him chuckle, his laughter rumbling against you. He reaches down, effortlessly finding your hand, and interlocks his fingers with yours as the two of you start walking again. He swings your joined hands playfully, and even though you roll your eyes, there’s a small smile tugging at your lips.

When you finally reach your apartment, you hesitate, nerves bubbling in your chest before you blurt out, “Do you… want to come in?”

He smiles softly, his eyes lighting up in that familiar way. “Of course.”

You lead him inside, suddenly self-conscious as he takes in your space. “This place is so you.” he murmurs, and something about the way he says it makes your heart flutter.

He sits on the couch as you grab two bottles of water from the fridge. You hand him one before sitting beside him, careful to leave a respectable distance between you. He notices immediately, amusement flickering in his gaze before he simply closes the gap himself, draping an arm around your shoulders and tucking you against his side.

You try not to overthink it. “What do you want to do?” you ask quietly.

He exhales, the sound heavy and content all at once. “Just this.” he says, leaning his head back with a sigh. A yawn slips out, and you can’t help but smile.

“Tired?” you ask softly.

He nods, his voice low. “Yeah. It’s been… an exhausting week.”

You hum in agreement, then glance up at him nervously. “Do you want to… go to sleep?”

He meets your eyes and smiles faintly. “Yeah.”

You stand and motion toward your bedroom. “Come on.”

Your heart races as you lead him inside. You grab a change of clothes and mumble something about washing up before slipping into the bathroom. When you return, face washed and hair down, he’s already sprawled across your bed like he owns it, one arm behind his head, the other lazily resting at his side. His eyes are closed and you think he's fallen asleep.

You pull the covers back and climb in stiffly, careful not to wake him, your back facing him. The room falls quiet except for the sound of your steady breaths until you feel his arm slide around your waist.

He pulls you closer, tucking you snugly against his chest. Your body instantly softens in his hold, the tension melting away as his lips brush a soft, sleepy kiss against your shoulder.

In one of your meetings, your boss had something to say about all the little details of your presentation, your coworkers shooting you apologetic looks. You bit your tongue and nodded along anyways, praying for it to end soon.

Then Jiwon from accounting had decided it would be okay for him to interrupt your break in the cafeteria, throwing his endless flirtations and advances at you. You had already rejected him politely so many times, you weren't sure how much more you could take.

Nonetheless, you tried not to crash out as you completed your last four hours of work, looking forward to going home and binging your drama.

Your last straw came when the printer jammed on the one document you absolutely needed for a last-minute client meeting. You wrestled with the stupid machine for ten minutes, only for it to spit out half-crumpled pages with ink smudges across them.

As if that weren’t enough, your boss walked by at the exact wrong moment, raising a brow and saying, “Still not ready?” loud enough for nearby coworkers to hear.

You forced a tight smile, muttered an apology, and turned back to the printer, feeling your chest tighten. All of it piling on until you felt one second away from snapping.

When it was finally time for you to leave, you packed up your things slowly, dragging your feet as if that would somehow keep the day from spilling into your evening. The thought of going home, collapsing onto your couch, and wallowing in your misery and loneliness made your stomach sink even more. You didn’t want to sit with your self pity, the silence sure to cause a spout of overthinking.

So you pulled out your phone and typed a quick message.

“Are you free?”

You stared at the screen for a moment, thumb hovering, before hitting send.

Not even two minutes later, Jiung replied.

“For you? Always. What’s up?”

The knot in your chest loosened a little. Although you knew "always" wasn't always necessarily true, he definitely made the strongest effort to see you when he could. The boys had also just so happened to be on a rare but well deserved break, so you definitely didn't feel as guilty messaging him.

"Can I come over, I had a bad day and don't want to be alone."

The three dots appeared almost instantly.

“You never have to ask. Just come over.”

You tried to suppress your smile, biting down on your lip as if that would hide the way your chest fluttered.

Shoving your phone back into your bag, you grabbed your keys and headed for the car. The city lights blurred past as you drove, the stress of your day still lingering but slowly fading by the anticipation of seeing your best friend.

When you finally arrived, you climbed the familiar stairs of Jiung’s apartment building. Knocking softly on the door, you half-expected him to be the one to open it but instead it swung open to reveal Theo, a shit-eating grin already plastered on his face.

“Here to see your boyfriend?” he teased, leaning against the doorframe like he’d never get tired of making the same joke over and over again.

You rolled your eyes and immediately shoved past him. “Don’t bully me, I had a bad day.”

“It’s not bullying if it’s the truth.” he shot back effortlessly.

You flicked him off over your shoulder without missing a beat, his loud laugh echoing down the hall as you made your way straight toward Jiung’s room.

The boys had been teasing the two of you for years, never letting up on the endless comments about how “only friends” didn’t act the way you and Jiung did. It had gotten to the point where you’d stopped wasting energy on denying it because the teasing came so often, and because, deep down, you weren’t even sure how untrue it really was anymore.

Of course you had thought about what it would be like to date your best friend. He was one of the few people in your life that knew and understood everything about you. And maybe the lines between best friend and more blurred every so often.

Sure, you were practically the only one he initiated any type of skinship with, cuddles, hand holding, the OCCASIONAL peck on the cheek or forehead. Sure, he always saved you a spot next to him no matter where you all went, or instinctively reached for your bag when it looked too heavy.

Sure, he let you steal bites of his food without complaint, even going as far as pushing the plate closer to you like it was yours too. Sure, he’d let you fall asleep on his chest during late-night movie marathons, his arm wrapped around you as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

And sure, maybe he kept an extra toothbrush in his bathroom cabinet because of how often you stayed over.

Okay maybe the lines blurred a little too much. The others never failed to point it out. To them, it was laughably obvious: the lingering touches, the way his eyes always found you first in a crowded room, the comfortability they had seen Jiung engage in with you and no one else. And yet, you both still clung to the same tired label, best friends, even if neither of you seemed very convinced by it anymore.

But it truly just never came up between you two. You didn't know his exact thoughts on the topic, but you were sure it was similar to yours. The two of you had just gotten so comfortable with how you were now, and it worked, so well. Maybe it was the fact that you didn't know how it would change your dynamic, and the fear of what would happen if it didn't work out. What more would you gain from a relationship with him? Kissing, sex, a new level of intimacy?

Okay those did sound good to you in your head but you were fine with how you were now. How selfish would you be to expect anything more than what he was already giving you?

You gave a few knocks of warning before pushing his door open. He was sitting at his desk, hunched over his journal with his glasses perched low on his nose, a purple hoodie draped loosely on his frame. His head lifted at the sound, eyes trailing after you as you walked straight to his closet, your usual routine when visiting him.

Without a word, you rifled through his clothes, pulling out a soft t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants, then disappeared into the bathroom. By the time you came out, hair a little mussed from changing, Jiung was focused back on his journaling.

You stood at the foot of his bed for a brief second before collapsing face-first into it, muffling a groan into the blankets.

A soft chuckle escaped him, low and fond.

“You okay?”

“Leave me here to rot....” you mumbled, not even lifting your head.

The chair creaked as he swiveled around to face you fully, amusement tugging at his lips. You felt the mattress dip as he sat beside you.

“Hey,” he said softly, his hand resting lightly between your shoulder blades. “What happened today?”

You let out a groan, burying your face deeper into the blanket. “Don’t make me relive it. It was just… one thing after another. I feel like the universe was out to get me.”

He stayed quiet, waiting. That was what you appreciated about him so much. He never pressed, just gave you the space to talk when you were ready. And, of course, that only made the words spill out faster.

"First I woke up before my alarm, then I ran out of milk, then I got soaked from a puddle then my manager then Jiwon was being his usual annoying self and the printer jammed and-" You rolled onto your back, staring up at the ceiling. “I don’t know. It was just… a shit day.”

Jiung’s brows knit together as he listened, glasses slipping a little down his nose. He reached out, brushing your hair gently away from your face.

"Jiwon still won't leave you alone?" Interesting detail to point out of all. You pushed the thought to the back of your mind.

"NO! And I can only subtly reject him so many times before I have to outright tell him to stay away from me. And I don't want it to become an HR problem because that woman is-"

"Just tell him you have a boyfriend." Jiung cut you off, his voice firm as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"I can't lie about something like that, I've told you how fast drama spreads in that place. I can't just make up a whole story." You frowned.

Jiung tilted his head, unbothered. “Okay. Then just say it’s me.”

Your mouth went dry, words catching in your throat. “W-what?”

His eyes sparkled softly, gentle in a way that made your pulse skip. “Say it’s me." he repeated, quieter this time.

You blinked at him, caught completely off guard. This coupled with your earlier thoughts of what would happen if you guys actually crossed the line made heat rush to your cheeks. You rolled back over onto your side, hoping the blanket could shield you from how his eyes lingered on you. “...Fine. I’ll do that.”

A quiet chuckle escaped him. Then, you felt his hand ruffle gently through your hair before resting a moment on your head.

“Good girl." he murmured as he stood up.

Your head whipped around, eyes wide.

“Excuse me?”

Jiung only smirked faintly, already pulling a pack of makeup wipes from his desk drawer. He tossed them onto the bed beside you. “Clean your face while I finish this journal entry.” he said simply, sliding his glasses back up his nose and turning back to his journal.

Still reeling from the casual way he spoke those words, you could only nod, tearing open the pack with fumbling fingers. As you wiped away the remnants of your makeup, your eyes kept drifting to him at the desk. You studied your best friend, the sharp edges of his face, the curve of his pink lips, his brows furrowed. You knew he was hot because like, Duh. You weren't blind. Maybe these thoughts were due to his previous words, or maybe you really had liked him this whole time.

Fuck.

But he was the one who was so clearly crossing the line. Good girl? Even she couldn't defend her friendship over that. And he was clearly upset about the Jiwon thing. Maybe his friends were right, and the two of you were idiots.

By the time you finished scrubbing the last traces of mascara away, you were exhausted by the tangle of thoughts your mind created. You tossed the wipe aside and collapsed onto Jiung’s bed, staring at the ceiling hoping to find a solution to your thoughts. Instead, it only gave you more questions.

You were so caught up spiraling that you didn’t notice when the scratching of his pen stopped. A moment later, the mattress dipped beside you once again.

“Stop thinking,” Jiung murmured, voice low. He turned onto his side, propping his head on his hand so he could look at you, having shed his glasses at the desk. “You did enough of that today.”

Your lips quirked, though your chest tightened. You rolled onto your side to face him, suddenly hyper-aware of how close he was. “Thank you for letting me come over,” you hesitated, “I really didn’t want to be alone.”

His smile made your pulse quicken for reasons you couldn’t name. “I hope you always come here... to me when you feel like that.”

Your throat went dry. But you forced a smile and asked the safest thing you could, “So, how was your day?”

This felt different. You couldn't put your finger on what it was. But Jiung leaned back casually. “Nothing special. Wrote some lyrics. I just stayed in today.”

You frowned, shoving his shoulder lightly.

“You’re supposed to be on break, remember? Break, Jiung. That means rest.”

He laughed, the sound rumbling low in his chest, and before you could blink he shifted closer, his hand slipping to your waist. His fingers traced slow, lazy circles, so casual you almost didn't realize.

Almost.

You froze, because what the hell is happening. Yeah, you’d cuddled before. You’d crashed on each other’s couches, woken up in tangled blankets after movie nights. But this felt so different.

You swallowed hard, trying to will your body not to react to the warmth of his hand against you. But when you glanced up at him, his expression was the same, like this was the most natural thing in the world.

And maybe it was. Maybe at some point everything between you had just shifted, and you weren’t sure either of you could pretend otherwise anymore.

He could practically see the thoughts spinning in your head, the way your eyes darted, the slight tension in your shoulders. His hand stilled on your waist, and he murmured softly, “It’s okay… just relax.”

You weren’t sure if he meant because of the long, exhausting day you’d had, or because he, too, had noticed how different the air between you felt. Regardless, you nodded, trusting him without question. Because if there was one thing you knew you could always do with Jiung, it was relax, let go of all your worries and pretenses.

So you did just that. You reminded yourself that even if… maybe… you liked him, this was Jiung. The person you could always be yourself with, the one who made comfort feel effortless.

Slowly, you inched closer. His arms were wrapping around you instinctively, warm and steady, pulling you gently toward him. He tucked you under his chin, nuzzling his cheek into your hair.

You exhaled, a long, contented sigh that carried all the tension of the day away.

Jiung shifted slightly so he could look down at you more comfortably, resting his chin lightly against the top of your head. “Hey,” he murmured, “did you get a text from Keeho?”

You hummed, still letting yourself sink into the comfort of his arms. “Yeah, he asked about that pink Acne Studios shirt I have. It's limited edition.” You smirked slightly. “I’m letting him borrow it, since I’ve only worn it once.”

Jiung’s hand moved almost unconsciously, running through your hair as he absorbed your words. “Of course you are,” he said softly. “You always let people borrow your stuff. You're so generous.”

You laughed lightly, tucking your head closer to his chest. “I’m not sure it’s generosity. You guys are just hard to deny."

“That sounds about right.” His thumb grazed the side of your face, brushing over your cheek in a slow, feather-light motion. You tried not to get distracted by his touch.

"Although Keeho has like, 10 different things from me that he never gave back." You muttered softly, though your tone lacked any real bite.

Jiung’s lips curved into a small, teasing smile. “Have you seen his room? You're never getting those back. They're probably lost for good.” His head tilted, and he leaned down slightly so his forehead rested against yours. He was close enough that you could smell his shampoo, he must have showered before you got there.

"I'm just gonna force him to buy me replacements."

Your eyes flickered down as he bit his bottom lip lightly, the faintest shiver running through you.

You were really trying to focus on the conversation, anything but him. But he engulfed your senses in the most delicious way, you were folding bad, letting him play out whatever game this was.

“Good luck with that.” he whispered, his hand still caressing your cheek, thumb brushing your lips ever so slightly as if testing the waters.

You nodded, your words caught, focus crumbling. “Yeah I'm sure... he's gonna be annoying about it.”

“Mhm." he murmured, a soft exhale escaping him, as he lightly ghosted his nose over your cheek, the action filling you with goosebumps.

You whispered his name, barely audible, and he immediately replied with a quiet, “Shhhh,” brushing against your lips. His face was impossibly close to yours, dipping just slightly so your lips brushed. The contact was soft and delicate, but it sent a chill through you.

The kiss began slow and gentle, two people who had known each other inside and out learning this one new thing together. His lips moved between yours, finding pleasure in the softness. It deepened, although still slowly, taking his time to learn this new part of you.

When you finally pulled back, both of you with closed eyes, the room was silent except for your breaths mingling in the quiet. He was the first to open his eyes, studying your expression, committing this scene to memory.

Then, impossibly gentle, he pressed his lips to the tip of your nose, coaxing your eyes open. You blinked at him, wide and vulnerable, and he chuckled, overwhelmed with happiness.

Before he could react, your hands found his face, and you pulled him into another kiss, this time more passionate, and full of urgency. He matched your intensity at first, then eased it, pressing slow lingering kisses against your lips, letting the moment stretch out, savoring every second.

His lips drifted across your face next, gentle pecks along your cheeks, forehead, and temple. Finally, he left one soft kiss at the crown of your hair before pulling you snugly back into his chest. You let out a quiet, pleasured sigh, feeling safe and completely at home.

After a long moment, you finally spoke, voice small and breathy. “We’ll talk about it… tomorrow?”

He hummed in reply, squeezing you tight. “Yeah.” he murmured.

┆彡 INTAK [ 인탁 ]

he could be in the middle of a concert and see a glimpse of tiredness on your face and call it a day

he’s soooo chivalrous:( he’ll take the blame so you don’t feel guilty for going home earlier

(even if you protest)

intak bursted out laughing at a joke one of his friends cracked and with a corner of his eye he saw your bland reaction. it was a sign you’re out of your social battery; well, you started feeling exhausted earlier - you became non verbal a while ago and started fiddling with your purse.

one look it took for you two to communicate that you’re tired. you opened your lips to announce it but intak grabbed your hand under the table and let out a sudden, loud gasp that even startled you.

“ah, i forgot i have practice tomorrow. shit, we moved it and it totally slipped my mind… the joke about aliends just reminded me… you know, soul… well, whatever. we’ll keep going, im so so sorry!” he said normally, rubbing your skin and sending his friends an apologetic smile “let’s do this again soon, guys! i had so much fun! let me know when you get home, okay?”

they were not too happy about it but let you go, minutes later you two sitting in a cab.

“you’re crazy” you grunted and pressed a kiss onto his cheek. seeing you a bit more relaxed now was worth it.

“i was getting tired too, either way.”

┆彡 THEO [ 테오 ]

hes just so into whats happening that more often than not he kind of misses the stage when you run out of your battery :(

he feels really guilty when he does though so u can be sure the second he realizes you’re like,, half asleep, he’s taking you home

wont admit but lowkey ur sleepy state is far more worth observing than whatever he was doing at the social outing

“and then i won! literally snatched the ball from his hands and–” taeyang was explaining how he absolutely destroyed intak in a basketball game they had recently, when keeho nudged his arm.

“your partner is sleeping on seob. and he’s also asleep” the leader snickered and theo’s eyes widened as he scanned the place in search of you. eventually, he saw you and the youngest asleep on the couch. your head leaning on his shoulder, seob’s head resting on yours. a soft smile formed on taeyang’s lips.

“let’s get them home” he snickered and stood up. guilt washed over him that he didn’t notice earlier.

he gently woke you up, sleepy eyes meeting his. theo tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.

“hi, sleepyhead. sorry for not noticing earlier” he hummed and you just shook your head in protest.

“it’s okay, jongseob is a nice pillow” you snickered and your boyfriend just tsked.

“good thing we’re going home now. i’m a better pillow, actually” taeyang puffed his chest out dramatically and helped you stand up.

“not with that big head of yours, idiot–” the younger’s voice sounded quietly from below.

┆彡 JIUNG [ 지웅 ]

another gentleman 🥹

always puts you first, no matter the circumstances!!

does not care in the slightest what others will think,, like hello u wanna be home, so then be it!

you really tried to act like you’re not tired, you really did. but shota started showing you his island on his switch and you couldn’t help your eyes from closing a bit. you two ran off to hide your unwillingness to be here – since jiung really wanted to attend this party you just didn’t want to go home yet. since soul also felt a little sleepy and didn’t mind you not talking, you just watched his animal crossing shenanigans.

“here you two are” you heard a familiar voice and slowly looked up to see jiung. he sent you a soft smile and then noticed shota rubbing his eyes. “let’s go home, okay?”

“nooo you wanted to be here” you whined, a small pout on your lips. he shook his head and helped you stand up.

“i’ve had my fun. now it’s time for bed. both of you” he giggled and helped shota stand up too “i feel like a grumpy dad”

you scoffed and pecked his cheek, grabbing the younger boy’s switch before it slipped out of his hand. jiung sent you a warm smile and interlocked your hand with his.

┆彡 SHOTA [ 翔太 ]

he sooo gets the feeling of running out of social battery:(

when there are times when you run out of it sooner than him (which is rather the other way around) he’ll ,, well ..

go home without telling anyone (maybe except his mom (keeho))

“shota, i’m kinda tired” you mumbled into his ear, hanging on his shoulder tiredly. he scanned your face with wide eyes – and the hands that were anxiously fiddling with the hem of his hoodie. he nodded, taking your hands in his and interlocking your fingers with his reassuringly “but we don’t have to–”

“let’s go then” your boyfriend smiled softly and dragged you to the exit, sneaking behind the crowd. you played along, pretending to be walking on your tip toes. once out, fresh air made you wake up a little.

“won’t they be worried?” you asked quietly. shota hummed in thought.

“no, i told keeho. besides, we left together” he shrugged and swung your hands a little. the gesture was really precious “do you want to play minecraft when we get home? we don’t have to talk”

┆彡 JONGSEOB [ 종섭 ]

honestly he couldn’t care less what others will think

if his baby is out of social battery, he’s out of there

he’s just so rebellious ! (will get yelled at later)

seob noticed you drifting away a while ago but only when you poked his arm gently, he was sure. he leaned forward to hear you better.

“i kind of want to go home but… if you want to stay that’s fine too. i just won’t be too talkative, i’m really tried” you told him, scanning his reaction. he nodded and looked at you. tucking back a stray hair behind your ear with a mischievous look in his eye.

“let’s head home then. it’s pissing me off that i can’t kiss you here with all the people around” he teased with a playful smile (and it’s not like that he’s too shy to do it in public or whatever).

jongseob took your hand gently and you two sneaked outside, leaving without a word.

“i wonder when will they notice” you giggled, wrapping your hand around his arm.

“if they even will” jongseob snickered.

masterlist <3

taglist. @primoppang ,, @laylasbunbunny ,, @slytherinshua ,, @planetkiimchi ,, @weird-bookworm ,,