Of course, Mark is happy. Your bitterness over the weather is not going to spoil his energy, the exact same one—maybe stronger—he has had over the past couple of weeks, counting down the days he’d be back in Seoul, finally. Mark has told you that it had been over a decade since he last visited South Korea, and the Student Exchange Program from your university had been the best opportunity for him to come back after so long, too long. The stupid smile on his face somehow makes you feel better, especially when he jumps from his seat when he sees his childhood friend walk towards your area. 

Renjun is handsome like the picture that Mark sent you a week before your flight to South Korea, but it feels a little unfair that he’s even more attractive in person. His voice sounds like honey and the corner of his eyes crinkle when he smiles as he approaches you and Mark. 

They jump into a tight, dramatic hug that makes a few other people in the waiting area look, but the boys don’t care. Mark lifts Renjun up from the ground, it’s almost embarrassing. The sight makes you feel warm. You wonder how Mark feels. 

It must be amazing, you think, to finally meet someone you’ve been longing to see. Mark had always expressed his yearning for the place—the people, the friends he always had to leave behind when visiting during summer—and it makes you wonder how it feels like to have friends and family away from you. 

Evidently, this is your first time to be away from home. You live (or used to at this point) in a dormitory, a two-minute walk to the campus, a good hour away from home, but you always went home whenever you craved for your mother’s dishes. You’ve never considered living away from home. Sure, you had plans to move out eventually, but not in a different time zone, not in an entirely different culture. Mark, on the other hand, is frequently moving around, dragging his suitcase from place to place, leaving people behind and promising he’d come back when he can.

Born in Canada, Mark had been to more places that you could count, but he has told you many times that nowhere else feels like home, like Seoul. He’s told you many stories of the time his family lived there for a few years before going back to Canada, of his annual visits in the summer, and of his devastation when life had caught up with him that he had to stop visiting when he turned eleven. 

You remember his voice, its tone and emotion, when he called you a couple of months ago, informing you of the exchange program that the university’s administration had posted on the students’ corner, and how fucking amazing it would be if you could sign up with him. 

“It would be a good addition to your credentials,” he had told you. “It’s not going to be for a long time, a semester at least. And we have the option to stay the whole academic year if we wanted to! Plus, I already know a lot of people there. We’ll be fine!”

“I don’t know, Mark,” you had answered, feigning hesitation, even when you knew deep down that Mark had already convinced you by the tone of his voice when he revealed the news. “I’ve never been that far away from home. Remember when we went camping in ninth grade? I cried. For three whole days. I’m not going to survive a semester. Besides, I know not a single Korean word.”

“Come on, Y/N,” he had begged. “Think about it. You’ll be with me the entire time. If we pass the screening, the program will sign us up for free Hangul lessons—though, let’s be honest, I don’t really need it.”

“Why do you have to bring me anyway?” you had asked out of curiosity.

“Because I know you’ll love it there,” he had answered. “Your obsession with studying culture and languages will be satisfied because there is no better way to learn a culture than experiencing the whole thing with your best friend!”

You remember humming in response, as if you’re thinking deeply about it. Mark sighed on the other line, his words making you laugh and finally agree. 

“The chances of Mom letting me go is bigger when I tell her you’re coming with me,” he had admitted. Mark, upon hearing your agreement to his proposal, began listing out the places he would take you. The phone call lasted for three more hours and it had seemed like Mark already had an entire plan in his head before he even asked you if you would go with him. 

Passing the program had been easy and so was acquiring your visa. What was truly the pain in the ass, you admit, is learning the damn language. You salute Mark for being able to speak Korean so fluently, but he’s shit at teaching you and you had to rely on the free lessons you had taken every weekend and your favorite language mentor, Lee Minho in Legend of the Blue Sea. Your Korean is awful. Your tongue is a little too short, too stiff, for said language, and the situation almost makes you back out of the entire program and ditch Mark. 

But here you are, still shit at Korean, but standing among hustling people and waiting for your best friend to wrap up the moment he’s sharing with his long-time friend. Renjun finally catches your eyes as you awkwardly watch them on the side, your backpack becoming heavier each second you’re standing on the airport tiles. He pulls away from Mark, smiling, beaming towards you and offers a handshake. 

“Hwang Renjun,” he introduces. You remember their last names go first here. “Nice to meet you.”

It almost startles you when he speaks English. Mark forgot to mention his friend is fluent, you think. 

You tell him your name, voice smaller than it usually is, and express your relief that he speaks English. 

“I’m originally not from here either,” he explains. “I’m Chinese. My family had to move here before I could even properly pronounce words for my Dad’s work. Went to an international school, where I met Mark back in second grade.”

So, he’s cute and multilingual. How unfair.

“And I’d love to chat longer,” he says, switching to Korean now, before you can even respond. “But Hyuck is waiting in his car. We could talk on our way to your dormitory. For now, let’s go. Hyuck hates waiting.”

“Hyuck drove? What happened to your car?” Mark asks, helping you with your luggage and pushing the cart himself. Renjun insists to carry your backpack, and he had already gently pulled it from your shoulder before you could refuse.

Mark and Renjun talk about Hyuck, both switching to speaking Korean now, on their way out of the arrival area and it doesn’t take long for them to spot their friend’s car outside. The rain had stopped pouring by the time you’re settling yourselves inside their friend’s car. The second you settle yourself on the leather seat, you sigh in relief. Traveling is a lot more exhausting than you had initially thought. 

Renjun sits on the passenger seat, right beside Hyuck, you assume, and Mark settles himself beside you.

“Mark Lee,” Hyuck greets, looking at Mark through the rearview mirror. “A pleasure to finally meet you.”

It takes you a second to understand what he said. It’s only then that you realize you really are in Korea. 

“Lee Donghyuck,” Mark responds in the same tone. “You’re real. I’m happy to see you in person and not just through Facetime. I want to hug you.”

“Am I better looking in person?” Hyuck teases. “Hug me when we’re at your dormitory. I’ll even kiss you on the lips if you want to.”

“Disgusting,” Mark grimaces. “By the way—” He turns his attention to you the same time Hyuck begins driving. “This is Y/N.”

Hyuck only smiles, nodding a little to you through the rearview mirror, brushing his brown hair using his fingers to fix it up. Renjun begins to ask how the flight was and Mark replies. All three boys strike up a conversation in Korean and it was all too much, too fast, for you to catch up and understand anything, so you stay quiet on your seat, leaning against the window, and begin to wonder how things will go for the entire spring semester you’ll be spending in this foreign city. 

Mark never told you that the drive from Incheon to Seoul is long, so far that you didn’t even realize you had fallen asleep.  When you arrive at the dormitory, it’s past six in the afternoon and Mark’s friends ask kindly if you want to go out for dinner. Politely and quite incoherently, you tell them that you’d like to stay. Mark insists on staying home with you and unpacking your belongings, but you urge him to go, spend some time with his friends and walk around. Mark hesitates, but agrees nonetheless, promising he will come back in an hour.

The place the program had picked for you and Mark is not that bad. It’s nothing like home, but it’s not bad. It makes you wonder how Mark does it. You remember not being able to sleep on the first few nights on your dormitory’s bed when you were a freshman. Mark had never told you if he’s had trouble adapting to places he’s been. Maybe you could ask him in the morning. 

The exhaustion hits you again upon entering one of the rooms. Room assignment is yet to be decided, but Mark wouldn’t mind if you sleep on one of the beds while he’s out. And so, you sleep. 

You don’t remember what you dream of. And Mark wakes you at seven in the morning, reminding you that you had to unpack and go grocery shopping. Momentarily, you forget where you are. It hits you the same way it does in his friend’s car. You’re in a different country. A different language. A different time zone. 

It doesn’t feel like home at all even though it’s cold. But you guess you’ll have to make it work. At least until the semester ends. 

・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・

약속해요 (yagsoghaeyo) – I promise

When Mark told you he knew a lot of people in Seoul, you should’ve known he was bluffing because he literally knew only seven people.

Mark Lee’s friends are warm and loud and somehow you feel out of place when they all decide to hangout where you and Mark are. It’s the first week of the semester, and you have completed all the orientation and tour you need; Mark, on the other hand, is still catching up with everyone.

By everyone, he meant Kevin Moon, a senior who is also Mark’s cousin’s long-distance boyfriend who happens to be studying in SNU too, Hwang Renjun from Natural Sciences, Lee Donghyuck from Music, Lee Jeno and Na Jaemin from Engineering and Architecture, Zhong Chenle from Humanities, and Park Jisung from Business Administration. Which is why every day, for the past five days, you’re at a place called Arcade, with Mark and two or three people from their group.

It turns out Huang Renjun and Na Jaemin were Mark’s friends from childhood, the others are friends by extension.

Huang Renjun, you understand why Mark is closest to him among all. He’s soft all over but sharp in the mouth. Renjun, you learn, likes to talk about life and likes to give people advice when they need it. He’s reserved with other people but is the complete opposite when he’s with his friends.

Lee Jeno is shy. He normally joins the group after his internship at a construction corporation in the outskirts of Seoul, which is why you haven’t really seen him much—only twice. You haven’t had that many conversations with him yet, but he’s kind enough to pass you the ketchup when he sees you staring at it from the end of the table.

Zhong Chenle and Park Jisung are best friends. There’s not a day that you have not seen either without the other, kind of reminds you of how you and Mark are. They join whenever one is available—two peas in a pod.

Na Jaemin is the closest with Lee Donghyuck. You see them talking in their bubble more frequently than the others. Jaemin is mysterious and a little cold—the complete opposite of Lee Donghyuck.

Lee Donghyuck, well, you’ve got a lot to say about him.

It isn’t necessarily an uncomfortable feeling, because Mark’s friends are kind enough to slow down when they talk to you and are quite protective of you, especially when a random stranger bravely comes up to you to introduce themselves. Lee Donghyuck, in particular, who’s as warm as the sun touching your skin at nine in the morning and whose voice is careful and assuring, ensures that you’re never out of place—even when you feel it all the time. From the day the semester started, there hasn’t been a day when Donghyuck isn’t hanging out with you and Mark at Arcade.

Mark normally picks you up from class because thank God your schedules are aligned to each other despite having different majors. The College of Social Sciences is quiet, unlike the building right beside you, College of Music, and Mark usually takes five minutes to find you, because you can’t trust yourself to walk around on your own—at least not yet. But today, Mark asked if you could meet Kevin first because his girlfriend had something for him from Canada.

“Hyungseo!” You hear someone call, making you look up from your phone to see Kevin walking towards you. He stops and turns around, a girl you’ve seen around the college of social sciences once or twice running towards him.

“Don’t forget to bring the laminated cards we need for Friday!” the lady shouts. Kevin gives her a thumbs up and turns back to you.

“Y/N, right?” he asks in English. You nod. He offers a hand. “I’m sorry we haven’t met personally yet. But I’m Kevin.”

“She called you Hyungseo, though,” you trail off, accepting the handshake anyway. “I’ve seen your pictures from Giselle’s phone, so I knew it was you.”

He laughs. “Hyungseo’s my Korean name. You should’ve packed her with you.”

You reach for your bag and hand him the box that’s been sitting in your backpack all day. “Here,” you say. “No plans on visiting sometime soon?”

Kevin sighs. “I wish I could,” he answers. “It’s not as easy as we thought.”

“You guys sound okay though,” you comment. “I mean, Giselle always sounds so happy when she talks about you back home.”

This makes Kevin smile. “Oh, she does?”

“Why would she think of getting you a gift all the way from home if she’s not?” you ask, biting your tongue as soon as the words come out. “Sorry, I shouldn’t ask.”

“Let’s talk about this over some soju when you find a dude you want to spend the rest of your life with here,” he jokes. “Thanks for bringing this. You and Mark have been so busy; he’s been declining all my invitations to hangout.”

You sigh, “Yeah. It’s only the first week and there are lot of things we had to do. I’ll ask him if we can hang out on the weekend?”

Kevin agrees and hands his phone to you, asking to put your number so he could call you. You do and tell him you’re grateful you could talk to someone in English aside from Mark and bid him goodbye when he leaves. You shoot Mark a text, telling him you’ll be waiting for him and that Kevin’s dropped by to get his gift from Giselle.

Hence, you wait outside, busying yourself with your phone, trying to avoid any interaction as much as you can, and you don’t notice Donghyuck standing beside you until he taps your shoulder and gives you a warm smile.

“Mark is running late,” he says slowly. “Let’s go to Arcade together.”

You smile at Donghyuck’s attempt to pronounce Arcade how you would and nod at him. He leads the way out of the building, his backpack on one shoulder, and asks you how your classes are so far.

“It’s okay,” you answer because it’s all you can think of. “Thank God my professor in Psychology speaks English.”

Donghyuck hums. “It must be difficult for you.”

“It is,” you confess.

Among everyone you have met so far, Donghyuck gives you the feeling of comfort; you’re not exactly the most outgoing person nor the least—you were in between. You were okay with that. And you were okay that Donghyuck is okay with that, too. He doesn’t push you to speak more (probably because he knows you most likely do not know how to say whatever you had in mind), but can be very persuasive when there’s a hint that you’re relaxed.

Lee Donghyuck is bold and charming and amiable like nobody you’ve ever known. Normally, or at least with how you’re used to, people are a little more reserved around people they just met. And culturally speaking, you didn’t expect Donghyuck to be so forward and already so comfortable hanging out with you, what more with having conversations like this.

“Don’t worry, though,” he assures. “You’ll be fine. You’re here for about six months, anyway. I promise it’ll be the best six months of your college years.”

He’s also bright like this—optimistic and kind and assuring. You’re glad Mark is friends with people like him, with Donghyuck.

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” you try to say, a phrase Mark taught you the other night. “Did I say that right?”

Donghyuck giggles, stopping and reaching up to ruffle your hair. “You’re absolutely adorable.”

“That, I am,” you joke back, more comfortable around him now.

“I promise,” he says. “It’ll be so good; you wouldn’t want to go back to Canada.”

・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・

한국말 잘 못해요 (hangugmal jal moshaeyo) – I don’t speak Korean well | 죽을래 (jug-eullae) – Do you want to die?

Donghyuck turns out to be a better teacher than Lee Minho and Mark Lee combined. He gifts you a small, pocket-friendly notebook, asking you to keep it for the rest of your stay, notably commenting that the material’s size will allow you to bring it everywhere you go. Hence, the tiny, brown faux leather notebook is safely tucked between your necessities inside your bag.

The first sentence he teaches you turns out to be the most essential: I don’t speak Korean well.

Donghyuck takes you to a café called 7 Days, an entirely different vibe compared to Arcade. You don’t question Donghyuck when he puts an arm on your shoulder as you walk together inside the café, but he asks you right away when he must have felt you stiffen from the touch: “Is this okay?”

“Yes,” you answer quietly.

Donghyuck smiles warmly at you. “Here, have a look around and I’ll get you something to drink before we decide what we want to eat. I have the perfect drink for you!”

He goes before you could say anything. You look and realize that the café is not so bad. Its aesthetic is the complete opposite of what Arcade’s going for—cozy, serene, almost like a good place to study or sleep in, whatever you need to survive the day—and the Biscoff latte is bomb, you don’t think you can drink latte differently now.

Conversations with Donghyuck could, well, unfortunately, go only where your limit is. He’s fun and likes to tell a lot of stories, but it’s always interrupted with you asking what a word means and him pulling up his phone and have his translation app say it for you. He makes jokes that you regrettably do not understand, but Donghyuck doesn’t take it to the heart and only says: “By the end of the term, you’ll be saying these jokes to Mark Lee.”

Donghyuck excuses himself to go to the toilet about an hour later and allows you a few minutes by yourself, which you happily spend taking pictures of the interior of the café. You sigh when you realize you didn’t take a picture of the Biscoff latte when it was full and pretty. Someone taps you on the shoulder, and it could only be Donghyuck, so you turn with a smile.

“I forgot to take a picture of the drink—Oh.” It’s not Donghyuck. “I’m sorry, how can I help you?” you ask politely.

The man towers over you and he smiles warmly. Your cheeks flush when he does, because you probably mispronounce each syllable from that sentence. “I’m Sanha.”

You bow courteously, still have 0 idea why the man is talking to you.

“I don’t see you around often,” he says. “And I’m here, like, almost all the time unless I have a class. My dad owns the place. How do you like it so far?”

“It’s… okay,” you say. Sanha chuckles, and your face is hot you probably look like a red potato now. “I mean, not just okay, I just can’t find the words to—”

He takes Donghyuck’s seat. “I can teach you,” he offers. “We can meet up here, and—”

Donghyuck calls your name, voice firm and monotonous like never before. “It’s getting late. Mark texted me to take you home early because Chenle’s making dinner at your place.”

You look at Sanha apologetically, still unable to reply properly so you only say, “I’m sorry.”

Donghyuck doesn’t give you the chance to say anything more because he’s already helping you out of your seat, turning you around so you could start walking towards the door, pushing you until you’re out of the café.

You hear him sigh as you walk away from the café, arm around your shoulder like how you entered the place.

“Y/N, my sweet pea,” he softly says. “Please don’t to talk strangers.”

You shrug, “It’s not like I could just ignore him when he was already taking you space.”

He scoffs. “When strangers start talking to you and being all brave and upfront, you tell them: I don’t speak Korean well. Then just start hitting them with English words and exaggerate your accent. That’s how Mark Lee tries to avoid conversations with girls sometimes because he’s a loser and women make him nervous.”

“I don’t speak Korean well,” you repeat, slowly pronouncing each syllable.

“Where’s the notebook I asked you to bring everywhere?” Donghyuck asks. “Write that down.”

You nod and tell him you’d do it later. Donghyuck leads the way towards the stop just in time for the bus that’s about to leave. You and him hop in, taking the seats in the back, giggling when Donghyuck almost topples over as soon as the bus starts to move. He lets you sit by the window and starts telling you about how his sister always fights him to get the window seat and he’s never won so he naturally just gives people the said seat.

You’re nearby the next stop when you ask him: “Donghyuck, what if I tell people I don’t speak Korean well and they wouldn’t stop bothering me?”

Donghyuck looks nice in his brown, fluffy jacket, face bare, his eyeglasses sitting on the bridge of his nose. He looks even nice whenever he smiles like this.

“Y/N, do you know how cute you are?” An answer you don’t expect. “You’re so cute when you ask questions like this. I want to put you in my pocket.”

“Donghyuck,” you sigh, expecting a serious answer.

He reaches up to pat your head. “You won’t have to worry because we won’t let you be on your own unless you ask us to stay away. Especially me. Not me. I’ll make sure to take care of you and Mark while the two of you are here.”

You nod, still not satisfied with the answer. The Sanha situation awhile ago makes you realize how helpless you’d be if you weren’t with Mark or any of his friends. Donghyuck probably notices your dissatisfaction when he feels like you’re sulking, which you definitely are, because he chuckles and pokes your cheek to get your attention again.

“If it makes you feel better,” he says. “You could always ask them if they want to die.”

“That’s mean!” you gasp.

“Or tell them to fuck off,” he shrugs.

“Donghyuck!”

“What?” he asks. “It’s not like I don’t hear you and Mark say ‘fuck you’ to each other every day.”

You laugh at that. “Saying it in Korean hits different.”

“Right!” Donghyuck agrees. “I’ve been telling people saying fuck you in Korean has more impact than in any other language. I can say the word fuck every day.”

“You kiss your mother with that mouth?” you joke.

Donghyuck coos. “Oh, I’m so proud of you. You’re cracking jokes now.”

The bus halts at your stop, and Donghyuck helps you up by taking your hand the way he’s helping you learn the language. It’s only when you’ve reached the street to the apartment you share with Mark that you realized you’ve been holding hands all the way from the bus stop.

・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・

저 알러지 있어요 (jeo alleoji iss-eoyo) – I’m allergic “Do you not understand what you just did, Mark Lee?” you ask in disbelief.

It’s only a month into your stay in Seoul, and Mark does the dumbest thing ever. Mark Lee comes home with a pet cat.

There were three rules for the spring semester, three very specific and very easy rules: one, to always text each other’s location as soon as you step foot outside of the apartment (which you and him are constantly compliant about; you love Mark Lee for that); two, to never skip a class unless you’re sick (you’re only here until July; Mark decided he’s not wasting a single day in Seoul, even if it means going to classes on time and by schedule without fail); and lastly, don’t keep things you won’t be able to take back home.

Mark had said that these rules are specifically for you because rule number one ensures your safety, rule number ensures you get the real Korean education experience, and rule number three apparently ensures you’re not leaving anything important at the airport when you leave—which now you think is bullshit. The rules are more for him than you, but you love Mark Lee, and it’s not like the cat isn’t cute.

“But, Y/N,” Mark pouts. “She kept on staring at me with these eyes when Renjun was busy comparing brands of dog treats. It was like her eyes were calling me, asking me to take her home!”

The calico cat is a baby; Mark said it’s not even five months old yet. It’s the last from seven siblings, the last one to be adopted (and you think Mark is only telling you this to convince you this is a good idea. She jumps out from Mark’s lap and goes to you, staring at you first before settling herself on your lap.

“She loves you already!” Mark comments.

You sigh. “Mark. You know we can’t take her home, right? We’re leaving in like, five months.”

“Which means I have five months to convince our friends to adopt her while I’m in Canada!” he answers enthusiastically, his eyes almost sparkling with the way he’s talking. “I couldn’t just leave her there. My heart wouldn’t allow me to leave without her!”

“Fine,” you give up. “Don’t cry on me on the plane back home when we leave her.”

Mark chuckles. “I think I should be more worried about you crying on the plane back home.”

Someone knocks on your door before you can ask what he means by that. It’s Mark who stands and welcome the person, and of course, it’s Donghyuck.

It’s Saturday. Saturday means Donghyuck comes and hangs out at your place because he no longer has to work in the university library on the weekends. He’d quit, saying his big mouth isn’t fit for the library, and had asked the school administration to reassign him to another facility. Part of his scholarship is to work at least 16 hours a week in one of the university’s facilities. He’s paid, of course, but Donghyuck says he’s not paid enough to keep his mouth shut for 16 hours a week. The admin asked for a week to figure out where he’d be assigned next, so he had this entire weekend all to himself, which, to how it looks like now, he’d decided to spend with you and Mark.

Mark lets Donghyuck in. The latter’s smile falters when he sees you; he only gives you a curt nod. And it’s not like you’re expecting Donghyuck to cuddle you on the couch, alright? It’s just that, you’ve known each other for a month now, and have hung out together a handful of times—just the two of you—and he called you yesterday telling you he’d come hangout with you and Mark for the weekend, even said something about teaching you to play Apex if you have the energy for it. And it’s not like he’s obligated to come sit beside you as soon as he enters your apartment, but you’re confused when he sits on the single couch far away from you, stance uncomfortable and his face looking like he’d rather be elsewhere.

Mark’s voice fades away when he asks Donghyuck what their plans are, to which Donghyuck answers: “I’m actually just here to say hi. I’m leaving in a bit.”

“No way,” Mark protests.

“Or we could go out?” Donghyuck offers.

“Uh-uh,” Mark refuses. “Y/N has been excited all morning to see you. You’re not going to disappoint her today.”

“I didn’t say anything—” You try to say, but couldn’t translate what you want to say quick enough. “Donghyuck obviously doesn’t want to be here.”

Over the course of a month living in Seoul, you and Donghyuck had grown closer more than anyone. It would be ridiculous to deny Donghyuck’s seemingly unceasing affection towards you, and in the same manner, it would be a lie if you’d say you’re not enjoying all the attention he’s been giving you. Above the flirty and friendly advances he makes (but never crossing the line), Donghyuck has grown to be a good friend. During the first couple of weeks, you would refer to him as Mark’s friend; it’s safe you say you’re friends with him now.

Donghyuck’s decided to pick you up from the college of Social Sciences, convincing Mark that his building is literally next to yours and that a ten-minute walk to Arcade with you is not going to hurt him—Mark’s been walking with you for many years anyway, he would mumble under his breath, close enough for you to hear but distant enough for you to understand what he truly means. Hence, with the growing friendship you have with him, you wonder what you had done this time.

“It’s not like that,” Donghyuck answers the question you had in mind, both hands raised in defense. You raise an eyebrow. “That.”

Donghyuck points at your lap, Mark’s unnamed cat sleeping soundly now. Oh.

“I’m allergic,” he explains. “I can’t be around one within like a five-meter radius otherwise, I would, like, you know, die.”

“You’re exaggerating,” Mark comments. “Are you really?”

“Yeah,” Donghyuck confirms. “The allergens are getting to me. My throat is starting to close up. I have to leave now.”

This startles you and Mark, the latter quickly taking the calico cat from your lap and quickly taking it to his room. You reckon the cat’s allergens are all over you so you sit as far away as you can from Donghyuck.

“It’s fine,” he assures, but he already looks like he’s choking. “It’s not that serious. They usually just give me allergic rashes and kind of triggers my asthma. So, we’re good.”

“But you have a dog!” you remark. “You never told me you’re allergic to cats!”

He chuckles, “Well, you learn something every day.”

“There are some anti-histamine tablets from the cupboard,” you point out, still seated where you are. “I probably have allergens on my hands; please go get yourself one.”

Donghyuck does what he’s told, taking one and opening the fridge to get himself a bottle of water. You tell him you’re changing your clothes and ask him to wait up, offering to go out and have a meal with him instead.

Mark knocks on your door a couple of minutes later, finding you dressed up, a knowing smile playing on his lips. “Donghyuck said he’d wait outside. You look nice.”

“I know I look nice,” you say as you go back to your vanity to throw whatever you’d need for the day in your small dumpling bag, including a box of Benadryl. “You’re not coming with us because you have cat all over you.”

Mark chuckles, leaning against the doorframe. “Donghyuck literally told me the same thing. He’s growing on you,”

You only hum in response, checking your bag for the last time before walking towards the door where Mark Lee is still leaning on, the same smirk playing on his lips still plastered.

“What?” you ask.

Mark doesn’t say anything, but he raises and shows you his right hand, sticking three fingers up.

・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・

먹었습니다 (meog-eossseubnida) - The meal was good.

Seoul National University’s library is as quiet as it can be; it’s almost scary how the only sounds you’d only hear are the faint sounds of pages being flipped and pens gliding on notepads, and the eerie echoes of the tension coming from students who are either cramming on an assignment or jumping from one subject to another in hopes of getting everything they read retained in their head.

Donghyuck used to tell you this is the exact reason why he didn’t like working at the library. It’s too quiet but too loud at the same time. You chuckle at the memory of him telling you anecdotes of his short-lived employment in the library and wonder how different it is being the soccer team’s laundry guy. He’s probably pouting all the way from the beginning of his shift until the end.

“Here,” Jung Sungchan disrupts your thoughts, keeping his voice as quiet as possible. “I found these, maybe it could help bridge the gap we’re struggling on.”

You and Sungchan are paired up for a two-week long assignment for one of your major subjects. The objective was to present a summarized and substantial report on the welfare state, and you think Sungchan must have tripped on all the bad luck in his life to have been paired up with someone who couldn’t speak Korean that well, because, well, the books they had are mostly in Korean. If speaking and understanding Korean is a struggle for you, reading the damn language is hell.

“This is a good thing,” Sungchan assures. “There are resources online that are mostly in English. We can combine everything we find and construct the report from there!”

You nod and hand over the book you’re reading before he arrived, explaining that you found a chapter that could be very helpful. The boy fires up his laptop and starts accessing the website your professor had recommended you to use.

Sat side by side, you and Sungchan study in silence, except for when he asks you to read an article for him and explain what it means. The session lasts for hours, thank God you and him didn’t have classes for the rest of the day, and within those hours of studying with Sungchan, you can’t help but notice the looks you were getting anytime someone passes by the two of you.

It’s no secret that Jung Sungchan is probably one of the most attractive men in the university. He’s tall and has skin that’s as clear as a day in summer, smile that could swoon a lot of people off their feet, broad shoulders that’s probably carrying the entire hockey team for this year’s season—and yes, it doesn’t help the fact that Jung Sungchan is the most popular jock at the moment, apparently for hard carrying the team to win last year’s trophy, ending Seoul National University’s 10-year drought and awakening the school’s love for sports back. And you think it’s quite unfair that people like him exist. Because you would expect that he’s an asshole who doesn’t care about his grades because he’s essentially SNU’s hero at the moment, but he’s not. Jung Sungchan, you learn, takes his degree in Social Sciences very seriously.

And it’s evident with the way his eyebrows are furrowed as he reads the tenth book he found from the shelves.

“I think this part makes more sense now,” he points out, leaning closer so he could show you the article he’s reading. “In residual regimes, welfare-seeking units are primarily family and market. On the other hand, in the institutional welfare regime, the function of providing welfare belongs directly to the state.”

“But countries with different social conditions and lifestyles should have differed in terms of welfare states,” you argue. “We have to consider that the development of industrialization and production growth could be very different from one country to another.”

Sungchan hums. “Good point. Perhaps we can find more of that from Wilensky and Lebaux’s work. Do you have the book over there?”

You nod and hand him the book. Just as Sungchan flips the book open, Mark occupies the seat across you.

“We’ve been calling you,” Mark whispers to you, then turning to look at Sungchan. “Hey, man. Mark. Y/N’s best friend.”

Sungchan gives him a polite nod before going back to the book. You raise an eyebrow at Mark and slip your phone from the pocket of your backpack and find all the missed calls from him, Renjun, and Donghyuck.

“My phone’s been on silent for like, I don’t know, four hours,” you tell him, slipping your phone back to your back. “And I texted you I’d be at the library.”

“Yeah, like four hours ago,” he answers. “I didn’t think you’d really stay here for four hours. Anyway—” Mark pulls out a lunch bag and slides it across the table. “Donghyuck made this for you. He figured you’d be hungry.”

It’s only then that it hit you. The last meal you had was that bagel you had for breakfast on the way to school, which you had seven or eight hours ago.

“My sweet Donghyuckie,” you coo, thankful for his thoughtfulness. “Thanks, Mark. Sungchan and I will share because we’ll be here until we finish at least the structure of the report.”

“It’s getting late though,” Mark points out.

Sungchan clears his throat. “I can drive you home.”

“Great!” Mark exclaims, which earns him multiple shushes from the other students studying. “Sorry. Great!” he says again, in a whisper this time.

Mark bids goodbye to you and offers a handshake to Sungchan, telling him he’ll see him often in the next two weeks or for as long as you and him are paired-up on your major subjects. Sungchan gives him one last assurance you’ll be home safe.

You ask Sungchan to take a break and open the lunch bag. Inside it are two bento boxes full of food, too much for one person, and you don’t take another minute to wait. Sungchan must have been hungry too, because he doesn’t refuse when you offer the other half of your meal to him.

You’re not really sure how much longer you and Sungchan stay in the library, but as soon as you’ve finalized the structure of the report and have agreed on assigned topics, he suggests that you and him go home and meet up again on Friday so you can start assembling the presentation. And as promised, Sungchan drives you home, glad when he realized your apartment is only ten minutes away from his.

It’s already ten in the evening when you reach home. Mark’s probably already sleeping, you think when you don’t see any light peaking from smallest of the small space between his door and the floor. It’s late anyway, and you don’t really have much energy to tell him about your day like you always do. In fact, you don’t even have the energy to shower anymore, and because you don’t like sleeping on your bed with your outside clothes, you opt to sleep on the couch tonight.

The last thing you do is shoot Donghyuck a text message: “The meal was good.”

・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・

삼각관계 (sam-gak-kwan-gae) – love triangle

Jung Sungchan invites you watch to one of his preliminary games the day after you completed the report with him. Mark teasingly tells you that you have boys wrapped around your finger not even two months living in Seoul. You deny the claims, of course, because Sungchan is nothing but a good friend and you don’t see him as anything more.

Donghyuck is the first person you think of when Sungchan gives you two spare tickets for the game, and you like to think that it’s only because you don’t want Mark teasing you and accusing you of romance all afternoon, and also because Donghyuck has a car and Mark is a shit navigator so you can’t trust him to commute with you from the university to the indoor arena where the game is being held.

SNU’s team wins, of course, and you proudly cheer for Sungchan, which earns you a side eye from Donghyuck. You shrug it off and pretend that you didn’t see.

“Can we go now?” Donghyuck asks, bored, when people start leaving the arena.

You shake your head. “Sungchan asked me to wait for him after the game.”

“You know that barbecue place I told you we’d go to?” Donghyuck reminds. “We can go there—“

Your phone rings. It’s Sungchan. Donghyuck sighs.

“Congratulations, nerd!” is the first thing you tell him. Sungchan thanks you, laughing from the other end of the call, and apologizes that he can no longer meet you because the team’s been hogging him the second they won the round.

“It’s fine,” you assure. “I’m with Donghyuck, anyway. I’ll see you at school?”

“No, no,” Sungchan answers. “There’s a small celebration party at Shotaro’s house. It’s a twenty to thirty-minute drive from your apartment. I’ll send you the location. Go there.”

Sungchan hangs up, and not even a second later, you receive a text from him, a location pinned on the message. You show the message and pout at Donghyuck, and he’s looking at you all bored, rolling his eyes, before nodding and taking your hand so you and him could leave the arena.

The drive to the place takes about an hour from the arena, and you spend it singing along to Michael Jackson’s songs.

“You have a really nice voice,” you comment. Donghyuck laughs.

“Baby,” he says. “I wouldn’t be pursuing a career in music if I had a shitty voice.”

The nickname gives you a flush, and you could only hope Donghyuck wouldn’t notice.

Almost two months into meeting Lee Donghyuck, you find yourself unable to keep your heartbeat down whenever he does things like this—calling you nicknames, randomly showing up in places where you are just to say hi, holding your hand, texting and calling you every day, spending his weekends and times off with you, and doing simple and domestic things for you—and your heart tells you it’s okay. There’s nothing wrong with a whirlwind romance in Seoul. Donghyuck doesn’t ever hesitate, and the fact that you’re holding back means you really like him. But the rational part of you says it’s not really a good idea to be in a situationship with someone who will most likely forget you as soon as you go back to Canada, and you can’t afford a heartache from miles away. Besides, Donghyuck probably isn’t that serious with whatever that’s going on.

Rumors say (by rumors, you mean Chenle and Jisung) that Donghyuck is the type of guy who dates one girl after another. Because he’s bold and charming and amiable and likes to expand his choices, and he finds that there’s nothing wrong with dating as long as he doesn’t date multiple women at the same time. You haven’t really seen him out on a date since you had met him. Rumor (Chenle) says that he’s been single since fall of last year and had committed to stay single this year because of the messy breakup and also because he’s on his last year of college, he’d need to focus on stepping up his game if he wants entertainment companies to fight over him as soon as he starts looking for agencies after graduation. Another rumor (Jisung) says he’s rejected many women who have tried to sleep with him since news broke that Lee Donghyuck is newly single. The rumor says he’s as popular as Jung Sungchan when it comes to women, which, if you’re being honest, gives you some kind of pedestal to walk hand-in-hand with him in the university grounds. You realize now that you get the same look from women when you’re with Donghyuck like the stares you got whenever you and Sungchan are stuck in the library for hours of studying.

The only difference is that, well, you like that people stare at you with a hint of jealousy whenever you’re with Donghyuck.

“Why haven’t you invited me to your gigs?” you ask before you could even think about it. “Sungchan’s only been friends with me for like three weeks and he already got me tickets to his game. You, on the other hand…”

The car halts to a slow stop, Donghyuck’s phone telling you that you’ve arrived at your location. Donghyuck doesn’t switch off the engine though. He chuckles licking his lips, then poking his tongue on his cheeks, fucking with your heart and hormones in the process. He keeps his hand on the steering wheel and turns to look at you, eyes hazed in attraction like he’s pulling you in.

“Baby,” he says in a whisper almost. “I don’t like love triangles.”

“Love… triangles?” you repeat.

“Love triangles,” he says in English. “I fucking hate it. And we’re not about to go through that trope in our love story here. So, let me make it clear before we go inside and before you even think about sticking to Sungchan all night.”

You gulp.

“There’s no Sungchan in the equation,” he states like a command and you find yourself nodding, agreeing. “It’s only you and me. Tonight, there will be a lot of people and none of them will be in the equation. Tonight, you’re sticking with me and we’ll talk about this tomorrow. Have fun with me and see if you want to take this to another level, because if you ask me, I’ve been dying to fucking kiss you since the semester began.”

This territory is new, and this Donghyuck is new, too. He’s always been affectionate and he’s never held back, but this new level of honesty is astonishing. Damn attractive if you’re being honest.

“Come here,” he says, ridding himself from his seatbelt. You do the same, leaning closer to him. Donghyuck holds your cheeks with both hands, smiling down at you before leaning in to kiss your forehead. “I’m not giving you mixed signals. This is me giving you a clear, direct sign that I like you and I like what we have, but I’d love to take another step. I’ve been thinking about it, and I don’t really want someone to enter the equation while I’m trying to woo you.”

You giggle. “You already successfully wooed the romance out of me the second you started holding my hand, Lee Donghyuck. And no, there won’t be love triangles.”

Donghyuck’s honesty fires up some courage in you, and you like the feeling of watching him falter when you lean in, hand on the back of his neck, and kiss him for the first time. The man melts in your kiss and in your touch, but doesn’t wait for another heartbeat to kiss you back. And despite of the bottled-up and eagerness from both sides, the first kiss is soft the first time, featherlike and sweet. His lips are even softer than they look and his lips already look plump as it is, and when Donghyuck licks your lips and invites himself in, God, he makes sure you taste the sweetness from his mouth and in a minute you’re addicted and you kiss and kiss and kiss, lips locking, tongue gliding, breaths gasping.

It’s him who pulls away, leaving you with dazed eyes wanting, wanting, wanting more.

Donghyuck gives you one last kiss on the forehead. “Let’s go.”

・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・

이렇게? (ireoke) – Like this?

You don’t end up seeing Sungchan at all in the party, and you don’t mind because Donghyuck keeps you glued to his side. The party is fun, but you and Donghyuck decide not to drink a single drop of alcohol. To him, it’s because he has to drive. To you, it’s because you want to be entirely sober to remember whatever happens tonight.

Donghyuck makes out with you in the corner of the living room where people are crumpled, and you like that he doesn’t care that people see. He holds you by the waist and on your neck, and you get it now. You get why women are lining up to sleep with Donghyuck, because if he can kiss like this, what else can he do with his mouth?

You shoot a message to Sungchan with a selfie of you and Donghyuck, thanking him for inviting you to the party and telling him you’ll see him on your next class together (Donghyucks suggests you send Sungchan a picture of you and him making out.) and prompt to leave. Donghyuck says goodbye to a few people he knew, holding you by the waist all the way from the house to where his car is parked.

Donghyuck drives you to his apartment and tells you he’s told Mark you’d be sleeping at his place tonight. The drive itself was intense enough and Donghyuck’s doing an amazing job keeping his cool while you’re practically sweating from the passenger’s seat.

You don’t even get a good look at his apartment when you arrive, because Donghyuck’s already kissing you as he rids himself of his jacket. Donghyuck doesn’t kiss you softly this time; he kisses you like he’s leaving a mark on your mouth, almost like he wants to bruise his presence inside you. He helps you get slip out of your jacket, pulling away quickly to kick his shoes off, before carrying you bridal style and bringing you to his room, kicking the door behind.

Despite the roughness of his kisses, he puts you to bed gently, ridding himself of his shirt and kneeling on the floor so he could help you out of your socks. He leans up once he’s done, one hand on your jaw to pull you down for another kiss, the other caressing your thigh.

“Please tell me this is okay,” he whispers. You nod. “I need your words, baby.”

“Yes, Donghyuck,” you answer, breathless when he starts kissing your neck. “This is okay. Please touch me.”

Donghyuck pushes you a little so half of your body is lying on his bed, your feet flat on his carpeted floor, tugging the loops of your jeans, urging you to lift your hips so he can rid you out of the material. He pulls you back up to take your shirt off from your torso, then he’s helping you back up from the edge of the bed towards the headboard as he crawls on top of you.

“Donghyuck,” you gasp when he goes back to kissing you. You realize that Donghyuck like kissing with the way he’s using his mouth to imprint his presence in you, his tongue licking everywhere it can reach inside your mouth, and he tastes like mint and the soda he had at the party, and he’s everything that you want. “Touch me, please.”

“Like this?” Donghyuck reaches down to rub your clit through the material of your underwear. He rubs slow, teasingly, and kisses you on the mouth when you groan. He dips his head lower and kisses your neck; he bites and nips and sucks and you’re sure it’s leaving a mark you’d have to conceal the next day. “Want me to touch you like this, baby?”

A moan elicits from your throat, and Donghyuck doesn’t waste any more time. He slips his warm hand between your skin and your underwear, really touching you, rubbing your clit gently, his digits dragging itself on your slit slowly, gathering your wetness then going back to rub your clit again, more roughly with the pool of wetness his fingers have now.

“Like this?” he asks again, pushing a finger inside when he finds your hole, urging another moan from your lips.

“Oh my God, Donghyuck,” you gasp when he fingers you gently, your wetness making a sound when he adds another finger. Donghyuck takes his time, biting his lips as he watches you writhe underneath his touch.

“Pull your bra down,” he breathes out, and you do. When your breasts are out on the open, Donghyuck doesn’t waste time and locks lips with your nipple, sucking and licking as he fingers the sanity out of you. He alternates from fingering you with two digits and rubbing you using his thumb, and you’re all putty and messy under him, and you want more, more, more, more.

“Baby, please fuck me,” you beg. “Please, Donghyuck. Please fuck me”

Donghyuck hushes you. “I will, baby. I’ll fuck you so well, you’ll come running back to me tomorrow and the day after, and the day after.”

But he doesn’t. He pulls his fingers out, hold you by your jaw so you could lock eyes while he licks the proof of your attraction to him from his fingers, sucking and showing you just how well he could use his tongue. He doesn’t fuck you get but he rids you of the last garments from your body and does the fucking impossible.

Donghyuck eats you out like it’s the last meal he’ll ever have. He swirls his tongue on your clit as he pushes his digits back in your hole, fingering you like it’s all he’s ever wanted, and he’s got you chanting his name like a prayer when his tongue laps your sex, even more when he replaces his fingers with his tongue. You’re writhing and screaming and Donghyuck’s holding your legs apart while he pleasures you with his mouth and hands.

You don’t want to cum yet, but Donghyuck’s so, so good, and it looks like he’s not stopping anytime soon. He tongues you back to your clit and fingers you with three digits, fast and rough.

“Donghyuck, I’m going to—” You see white and stars and you stay still when Donghyuck continues fingering you, moving all three fingers in an upward motion, reaching where you want him the most, mouth sucking your clit as you ride the first orgasm you’ve had in months.

Donghyuck lets you have your moment when it’s done, taking the time to lick the slick wetness from his fingers down to his wrist, kneeling between your legs. You push yourself up so that you’re sitting with your legs wide open, your palms flat on his sheets, head tilted for a kiss. Donghyuck leans over and kisses you again, and you never thought you’d like tasting yourself in his tongue. You guess everything tastes sweeter when it’s in Donghyuck’s mouth.

“Off, please,” you murmur, pulling the loops from his jeans. Donghyuck obeys, removing all pieces of clothing until he’s naked.

You marvel at his beauty, licking your lips when you finally see him bare and clean. His golden skin looks like honey and you want to kiss the fuck out of his collarbones and leave your mark for everyone to see. Your eyes travel from his chest down to the trail from his tummy down to his erect cock. He’s hard and red and you salivate from how big he looks and feel yourself getting even more wet at the thought of him fucking you. Before you know it, you’re reaching out, moving so you could kneel, and taking his hardness in your hand. Donghyuck moans for the first time tonight, and you plan to elicit that sound from him all night.

Stroking him slowly, you feel a rush of satisfaction when Donghyuck pants your name. “Oh my God,” he moans when you bend over, a palm flat on his sheets, your other hand stroking him as you take him to your mouth. He gathers your hair and watches you from above, and you purposely stick your ass up higher when you feel him twitch as you take more of his cock into your mouth. When you’re about halfway, you stroke the rest of what you can’t take and start sucking and licking, and Donghyuck makes the absolute best sound ever. You like his voice when he sings, but you don’t think anything could compare with how he’s whining your name as you suck his dick thoroughly, licking and jerking off whatever your mouth couldn’t fit. A part of you wants to ask Donghyuck to fuck your mouth, bruise your throat with his dick and cum straight down your fucking stomach if he wants to, but that could be arranged next time. This time, with his dick hard and wet from your mouth, you want him to fuck you.

You suck him one last time before you pull away, a string of your saliva following when you look up at Donghyuck. “Now, will you fuck me?”

Donghyuck looks fucked out, eyes dazed with lust, and you want nothing more than for him to ruin you. And Donghyuck doesn’t need to be asked twice.

He crawls back up until you’re lying on your back, legs wide open for him, and kneels between your legs. “Ready and sure?” he asks for the last time, stroking himself.

“Pull out when you cum,” is all you say and Donghyuck goes for it. He gives you a kiss and rests one of his forearms beside your arm, massaging the head of his cock on your opening until he’s stretching you out.

“Fuck,” Donghyuck groans when he feels your tightness. “God damn, Y/N, when was the last time you got fucked?”

“I—I can’t remember,” you say. “None of them were worth remembering.”

“And me?” Donghyuck asks as he pushes deeper until he’s fully stretched you and his pelvis is leaning against your clit. “Will you remember me?”

“Ask me next time,” you breathe out. “I think you’ll have to fuck me every day so I can remember.”

Donghyuck gives you some time, kissing you softly. “When was the last time you fucked anyone?” you ask in return.

“I can’t remember,” he parrots. “None of them were worth remembering. All I know is that this is the first time I’m feeling someone raw.” Then he bottoms out, gives you only half a second before he’s thrusting back and out and back and out and back and out, slowly but surely fucking you well.

Donghyuck fucks you like he means it. His hips snap roughly but makes sure you feel all of him before he thrusts out and he’s everywhere. His tongue is in your mouth, then on your neck, his free hand is caressing one of your breasts, playing with your nipples, and he’s making you feel so, so good and you’re not sure how you go back from here. You’re not sure how you could go on with life knowing how well Donghyuck can fuck you. He’s got you squirming and reaching your second orgasm only minutes into fucking the life out of you.

When you’re close, Donghyuck pushes himself up so that he’s kneeling again, and lifts both your legs, resting your calves on either side of his shoulders, hugging your legs so he can fuck you deeper in this angle. The precision makes you chant his name over and over again and he takes one of his hands down to rub your clit. You try your best to hold back from cumming because the way he’s fucking you now feels so damn good that you want it to last for a long time. He thrusts in and out quickly, his balls hitting the bottom of your ass again and again.

“Come for me, baby,” he says. “Let go.”

So, you do, and Donghyuck keeps on fucking you through it. Donghyuck lets you finish, before he’s pushing the back of your knees down so your thighs are pressed up against your stomach, chasing his own orgasm, and fucks you hard, without rhythm, until he is moaning your name like praise and he’s pulling out so he could release on your stomach. You reach up to caress his cheek as you watch him in awe as he finishes, his face contorted in pleasure, lips wet and eyes closed.

When it’s done, Donghyuck kisses you on the forehead and helps you clean up. He leaves to go to the bathroom for a minute to grab a warm, wet towel, cleaning your stomach, and carries you back to the bathroom with him. The shower is warm, and Donghyuck is gentle and sweet when he cleans you up, giving you kisses when he pats you dry once he’s gotten rid of the shampoo and body wash from your hair and skin. Donghyuck tells you there’s a spare toothbrush on behind the mirror and washes himself as you brush your teeth, naked but warm.

Donghyuck tells you to that the right side of his closet is where you can find the clothes he uses at home and you follow as he finishes cleaning himself up. You take the liberty to take one of his shirts that are still too big for you despite Donghyuck’s frame and slip a pair of cotton shorts.

Donghyuck finds you half-asleep when he’s done showering; he sleeps shirtless, you reckon, because he crawls to bed only in sweatpants. He cuddles you from behind, kissing the clothed shoulder, and the last thing you hear before you drift off to sleep is him humming a song your mind can’t recognize and a promise that you’ll talk about this the next day.

You wake up to the smell of Spam, an empty space beside yours, and the sound of Donghyuck singing a song from BOL4, which you learned is one of his favorite musicians.

Donghyuck smiles warmly at you when you find him in the kitchen, just about to finish pan-frying the last piece of sliced luncheon meat. He’s still shirtless, but is wearing a cute pink apron, and he gives you a quick kiss on the lips like it’s the most natural thing ever. The second his lips pull away from yours, you reach up and touch where he kissed, lips tingling—in disbelief that what happened last night is real.

“Good morning,” he hums. “Just in time for breakfast.”

“Donghyuck,” you trail off. “Can we talk first?”

Donghyuck nods, offering that you sit on the high stool across the small kitchen island. He sits next to you, turning the seat so that you’re face to face, knees touching. “What do we want to do?” he asks.

“You know I’m leaving in like, four months, right?” you start.

Donghyuck whistles. “We just started and you’re already breaking up with me?”

“No, no,” you say, exhaling. “This… this. I like. You. I like.”

“Baby, construct your sentences properly,” he laughs.

“I like you,” you confess. “And I like this. I like holding your hands. And kissing you. And what we did last night. I’m just worried because—”

“Because you’re leaving,” he finishes for you. “I know, but I also like you a lot. More than you probably think. And I don’t want to miss my chance getting to know you more just because you’re leaving in a few months. I don’t know what you want, but here’s what I want, you let me know if it works for you, if not, then I’ll still be a friend. Who might cry for two weeks straight if you reject me.”

You laugh but urge him to continue.

“I want to date you, and get to know you even more. Your quirks, the things that make you angry, your comfort food, the movies that give you the ick,” he continues. “Your family, how you were raised, if you like Marvel or DC more, what Hogwarts house you belong to, if you like pineapple in pizza or not, whether you pour milk or cereal first, if you ever kissed Mark Lee, if Mark Lee’s ever had a crush on you.”

“What does Mark have—”

“Shh,” he stops. “It’s my turn. Talk later. Anyway, I want this—” he gestures the space between you and him. “And I want you. I want to keep teaching you the language and I know what’s ahead of us is scary, and there’s only two things that could happen: this is going to be either the biggest heartbreak of my life or you’re going to be the greatest love of my life. It’s a fifty-fifty chance, Y/N. Let’s just say I’m willing to risk whatever if it means I have 50% the chances of having you as the greatest love of my life.”

Oh. You don’t realize you’re staring quietly until Donghyuck holds your hand.

“Now tell me,” he asks slowly. “What do you want?”

You don’t hesitate. “I want you, Lee Donghyuck.”

・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・

일어날 수 있는 최악의 상황은 무엇입니까? il-eonal su issneun choeag-ui sanghwang-eun mueos-ibnikka? What’s the worst that could happen?It doesn’t come out as a surprise to anyone when you and Donghyuck arrive at Arcade holding hands, a shy smile playing on your lips, a proud one in Donghyuck’s. You were thankful that there were no teasing remarks coming from your friends—that they were taking this so well, like it’s normal. Like it’s meant to happen anyway. There’s a knowing smirk on Mark’s stupid face, but you love him and you can’t wait to tell him all about how you feel towards Donghyuck. “Okay, so my birthday falls on a weekend,” Jeno announces. “And I think it’s the best time to go to the amusement park. Will you have work then, Renjun-ah?”

“Most likely,” Renjun answers, mouth full of food as he chews on a bite of pizza. “But I can have Yerim cover for me. I’ll just return the favor if she needs me one day.”

“Sweet!” Jeno exclaims. “So, it’s decided then. We’ll go to the amusement park on my birthday.”

As you and Donghyuck play footsie under the table, Mark stands, turning to you. “I’m going to get another milkshake. Come with me?”

You nod, kicking Donghyuck one last time and standing to follow your best friend. Somehow, you feel bad for not saying anything about your growing feelings for Donghyuck, considering that Mark is your best friend in the entire universe and you’re his. If it were him, he would’ve told you the second he caught feelings to anyone. But Mark knows you’re not the kind to admit feelings like this as soon as it starts inflating in your chest; he knows you’re the type to hold it in until you can’t anymore. Having had terrible relationships in the past, Mark has always known that you’re the kind to be careful.

“I didn’t think you’d actually go for it,” Mark says as soon as you and him are out of earshot. “Don’t get me wrong. I’m happy for you. I just didn’t expect this to happen so quickly.”

“Me neither,” you mumble under your breath. “Sorry for not saying anything.”

Mark chuckles. “You didn’t have to. I mean, we all kinda always known this would happen. I just couldn’t imagine how you and Donghyuck sealed it so quickly, like considering how shy and quiet you always were whenever he was around.”

“I was shy and quiet with everyone around,” you remark. “Donghyuck taught me all these slangs and now I can’t stop talking.”

The woman in the counter asks you what she can help you with when you reach her. Mark tells his order alongside some sides Renjun had asked him to get. He leans on the counter, turning back to you. “Anyway.”

“Yeah?”

“I think you’re serious serious.” Mark clears his throat. “Like, I’ve known you for so long and you’ve always been hesitant to do shit. I’ve always been the spontaneous and reckless one between us, and you’re the careful one. The one who thinks everything through before deciding on it—this trip to Seoul included on the long list.”

“Your point is?” you ask, even though you know exactly where this is going.

Mark licks his lips before continuing: “What I’m saying is, you’ve never been this certain so quickly.”

That’s right. Not to be cliché or whatever, but this is normally how it goes for you. Relationships used to be difficult for you—from the pining to the confession to its climax to its end, until the bargaining and acceptance—and you’d never been the type to go through things so quickly and easily. With Donghyuck, you’d somehow done it backwards (and Mark doesn’t need to know that you slept with Donghyuck before you even sealed the damn relationship) but for some reason, you had forgotten how you’re supposed to act around people you like romantically. It scares the shit out of you, the connection between you and Donghyuck, but you’ve always been a firm believer that if it doesn’t scare you, it probably isn’t something worth doing. It feels like jumping from a cliff, to the bottom of the unknown, and it’s new, but it makes your heart pound like never before.

“I don’t want to get ahead and say something that’d make you change your mind somehow, because I also like you and Donghyuck together,” he explains when you only stare at him. “But, as your best friend, with the best intentions only, please don’t go breaking your heart before we leave, yeah?”

You nod, understanding and appreciating Mark’s sentiment. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

Mark shrugs. “We won’t really know. Take care, yeah?”

You smile stepping closer to hug Mark. “I love you, you know that, right?” he asks. You nod, your face buried on his chest. “Good. I’ll beat Donghyuck’s ass if he hurts you in anyway.”

“I sure hope you do,” you reply, just in time for the staff to call Mark’s attention, the tray of his order ready for him.

Donghyuck is pouting when you return, asking why you and Mark took too long because the seat beside him is all cold now. You kiss him on the cheek and tell him Mark just told you he’s beating his ass if you’re hurt in anyway.

“Mark can’t hurt a fly,” Donghyuck remarks. “What makes you think he can hurt me, huh?”

Mark scoffs. “You’ll be the first.”

・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・

계절과 계절 사이 (gyejeolgwa gyejeol sai) – between seasons

When the seasons start to change—from the rainy, cold spring transition to a warm, sunny summer—you and Donghyuck change, too.

From the euphoric blooming of your relationship—the playful dates, the passionate moments in his bedroom (because ever since Mark adopted that cat, Donghyuck could never stay at your place for longer than an hour), the heart-warming feeling of seeing him waiting for your after your class—to the warm, comfortable attachment stage, you feel like you know Donghyuck in a deeper sense now.

The small notebook he’d given you at the beginning of the term is halfway full, its pages messily scribbled with phrase and sentences you had learned—likewise the memories those words carry—and soon enough you find yourself more comfortable with the language, and eventually with Seoul. You find yourself enjoying, and not in a way that makes you think you’d want to visit again soon.

The journey with Seoul was initially a play to learn the language and its beautiful culture: a detour. A diversion from your plans. A stop while you figure out what you want in life. Your last year in university is supposed to be the year you finally decide what to do next. Visiting Seoul was an opportunity for you to really get to know yourself beyond your comfort zone, to really challenge your capabilities, to learn beyond what your hometown had in store for you.

But these days do not feel like Seoul is a place to visit.

In a way, liberating albeit frightening, you find yourself thinking that perhaps Seoul is a place to build a home in. The home is built from arms that hold you on days when it’s extra cold, your nose red and hands frozen, and its shelter is made from Donghyuck’s warm smile and the assurance of him being there for you. And right now, while you sit closely together at the back of your friend’s car, their obnoxiously loud voices singing to some pop song along the radio, you feel it: home.

Jeno likes the phone case you had customized for him, and he gives you a big, bear hug as soon as he take a peek of what’s inside your present.

“I love you. I literally love you with all my being,” he dramatically says as he squishes you.

“That’s my girlfriend, you idiot,” Donghyuck complains, pulling Jeno’s arms away from you. With the way you three are seated at the back of Renjun’s car, you sitting in between them, it’s uncomfortable and Donghyuck insists on taking part of the little moment you’re having with Jeno.

Jeno whines, “Let me love her. This is the best gift ever!”

Donghyuck ends up puffing air out of his mouth, pouting and leaning back so Jeno could hug you. You’re laughing and Jeno whispers how easily they could make him sulk these days because you’re around.

Mark, who’s sitting on the passenger seat beside Renjun, announces you’ve arrived at the amusement park, just as Jaemin’s car halts to a slow stop behind you.

It’s the first time you’ve ever visited the famous amusement park in Seoul, and Mark looks excited with the way he’s jumping as you line up for the tickets. Donghyuck has his arm around you, taking pictures with his other hand. The rest are chattering, talking about the rides they’d love to try.

The secretly group decides to stick together for the entire day to celebrate Jeno’s day, despite the birthday boy himself telling everyone they can go wherever they want to. You could see how much they really care about one another and they all just hide it in their mean, vile jokes. For example, the man who has his arm wrapped around you likes teasing Jeno like it’s his full-time job, but is hiding a birthday present inside the trunk of Renjun’s car (and would most likely give it before you all head home, act like his best friend’s birthday isn’t that much of a big deal).

Most of the day is spent following Jeno around, whatever ride he wanted to try and your ears ringing because of how loud Donghyuck is screaming. The temperature has gone from freezing cold to warm, the humidity making it a little harder for everybody to move around under the warmth of the sun.

“I never realized how much of a scaredy cat you are, Donghyuckie,” you tease as soon as you walk out of the roller coaster ride. “Not much of a tough guy now, huh?”

Donghyuck whines, “I liked you better when the words you spoke were only yes and no.”

Mark laughs, slapping Donghyuck on the back. “Oh man, that was really good.”

“Yeah?” You rebut. “And I liked you better when you weren’t screaming like a kid.”

Donghyuck smirks, “And I like you better when you’re screaming my name.”

Renjun and Jisung cough in disgust, and Mark just straight up slapped the back of Donghyuck’s head. “You two are disgusting. I can’t believe I live with you, Y/N.”

Donghyuck laughs, turning to you. “It’s pretty hot. Want me to go grab you a can of soda? Ice cold water?”

“Water, please,” you say. Donghyuck nods and gives you a quick kiss on the cheek before pulling Chenle with him and walking to the opposite side where a small shop is. In the meantime, the rest of you occupy the benches under a shade, Jeno asking which ride to go next.

Donghyuck and Chenle return in a matter of time, bottles of drinks in their hands. They give everyone their preferred drinks, Donghyuck sitting beside Mark and extending an arm so he could hand you your drink from his side.

“Fucking summer,” Donghyuck curses. “I hate summer.”

Renjun raises an eyebrow. “Suddenly?”

“It’s not even summer yet,” Jaemin points out. “What happened to you? You’ve always been so excited about summer.”

“It’s so hot. I can’t stand this fucking temperature,” Donghyuck mumbles.

Renjun scoffs. “You start planning our summer getaway as early as March.”

“It’s already April and you have nothing yet,” Jisung points out.

“Yeah, what the hell, man. I hate your ridiculous ideas, but we can’t survive summer without you,” Jeno adds, then looks at Mark. “Yo, Mark, what about you? What are you doing this summer?”

You and Mark freeze, looking at each other for a second, before the latter speaks for you both: “We’re, uh, we’re supposed to go home.”

It seems like Jeno didn’t know the weight of his question because he apologizes as soon as he realizes it. The group falls into silence, no one says anything, or perhaps nobody could think of anything to say, not even you or Mark.

With your days in Seoul numbered, you realize now that you haven’t really talked about it—not you and Mark, not you and Donghyuck—and it never really felt real. You had always told yourself you’ll cross the bridge when you get there, and the bridge is nearby.

Donghyuck clears his throat. “The sun’s going to kill me. I think I saw a burger joint that has an air-conditioning system down the corner of that street. Shall we go there?”

Everybody agrees and stand to leave. Donghyuck holds your hand, pulling you close and steals a kiss on your cheek. The gesture makes your heart flutter. Donghyuck is warm, but not in the way the sun is hot right now—in a way that gets you thinking: can this warmth reach Vancouver?

Your skin hurts when the sunlight hits you. You hate summer.

・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・

 오해 하지마 (ohae hajima) – Don’t misunderstand

Donghyuck had a face that looked like what an artist would draw in a whim—spontaneously—like it was done in a rush, like a portrait from a park done by a street artist, something done with a pencil. Ink stains are harder to wash off, and anyway, figments aren’t mean to last—and he’s almost unrecognizable in this light.

You can’t recognize him on the night of his birthday.

His Mother had gone above and beyond and invited all of their closest relatives and family friends for his 23rd birthday, and it’s also your first time meeting them.

It’s nerve-wracking to say the least, but his Mother smiles at you kindly when she greets you from the entrance of the restaurant they rented for the evening. You could tell his family was wealthy, and it makes sense because Donghyuck got the most bare minimum job he could find, and it’s most likely because he doesn’t need to get one; he probably only got one so he could talk about work, too, just like the rest of his friends.

The birthday party is a surprise and it was Renjun who connected with everyone to make sure they attend here tonight. You had to make up some excuse to Donghyuck when he asked why you can’t join him for dinner with his family tonight and had promised to make it up to him the day after.

You’re sat in the same table as Mark, Renjun, Jeno, and Jaemin, a bit far away from Donghyuck’s family’s table, as you wait for the birthday boy, your present sitting on top of the round table. Mark talks about his cat, letting Jaemin watch snippets of his pet from his phone, and Renjun is narrating a story about his “ridiculous and absurd encounter with Liu Yangyang (and you and Jeno can’t pass up the opportunity to tease him about it).

Then, someone comes sit beside Jaemin, the boys gasping when they see her.

Karina is beautiful, and even saying that isn’t enough to describe the woman’s beauty. Soft-spoken and brilliant, Karina naturally allows everyone to gravitate towards her. All, including yourself, are pulled like magnet when she arrived. Jeno introduces you and you allow yourself to throw a quick and inaudible “hello” when she reaches over and asks you how you are.

Donghyuck’s Mother almost screams when she sees Karina, excitement filling up the air as she hugs her and thanks her for attending.

“I wouldn’t miss Hyuckie’s birthday for the world, eommoni,” Karina answers, and before you could ask Renjun how she’s related to Donghyuck, Jisung, who’s seated in another table with Donghyuck’s younger siblings, announces that the birthday man himself has arrived.

Donghyuck enters the hall, surprised and happy when he sees everyone, a dramatic cry leaving his lips as everyone greets him happy birthday. He feigns complaint, whining that he’s no longer eight years old, but hugs his parents anyway.

His parents thank everyone for joining a precious day and celebrating their eldest son’s birthday with them. Donghyuck bows and starts to go around to thank people.

You don’t recognize Donghyuck when he finally reaches your table and he gives you small smile, hugging you quickly before moving on to the next person. You don’t recognize Donghyuck when he goes to Karina, lifting her as he hugs her tightly, and thanking her for being able to come. You don’t recognize Donghyuck when his Mother joins the little reunion and he laughs when his Mother jokes about them missing each other too much.

“She’s the one who left me all alone here in Seoul,” Donghyuck pouts. “We wouldn’t have missed each other this much if you had stayed!”

“Don’t be such a drama queen, Hyuckie,” Karina says, rolling her eyes. “You visited me in Tokyo literally six months ago.”

Six months ago, which means, it was right before you arrived in Seoul.

You want to be anywhere else but here, and you don’t want to listen any further, but the scenario runs like a comedy show and the punch line is you.

“You two better decide whatever the hell you want to do with your lives by the end of the year,” Donghyuck’s Mother comments. “I mean, no one’s stopping you from moving to Tokyo, Donghyuck. You and Karina can rekindle whatever light was burnt last year. I’m glad you stayed best of friends despite the long distance. You’ve always made a great couple.”

Your breath hitches like your lungs had just been punch. Donghyuck, it seems, finally remembers you’re watching this unfold. Mark holds you, and bless him because your legs feel like they’re about to give up. You and Donghyuck make eye contact, but you don’t recognize him at all.

“Eomma,” Donghyuck clears his throat. Everything else he’s said come out like a blur, and Mark is just holding you close.

“Don’t misunderstand,” Renjun whispers closely. “They’re just friends.”

You don’t recognize Donghyuck when he watches you leave.

・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・

천천히 말씀해 주세요 (chun-chun-hee mal-sseum-heh ju-seh-yo)  - Please speak slowly | 집 (jib) - home

Karina turns out to be the one that got away. The one true love. The greatest love. The childhood best friend who’s always been there. The leading woman. She turns out to be the protagonist in Donghyuck’s story.

You learn all of these from Renjun. Even when he refused to say a single word and had begged for you to talk to Donghyuck instead, you learn the truth by asking Mark to ask Renjun.

Donghyuck and Karina. Karina and Donghyuck. Two peas in a pod. A tight knit. Knowing each other like the back of their hands. A buy one, get one kind of deal. Where one is, the other would follow. And everyone and their moms know that it has always been like that, will always be like that.

Donghyuck and Karina, born on the same year, grew up in the same small village in Jeju island. Having been inseparable since, they ended up moving to Seoul together in high school. Donghyuck’s parents were supportive of Donghyuck pursuing a career in music, and they believed that moving to Seoul was the first step for their beloved son to find his spotlight. Karina’s parents, however, couldn’t afford moving alongside the Lee family despite wanting to support their daughter, too. Donghyuck begged his parents to have Karina move in with them so her parents would only worry about paying her tuition and allowances. The Lee family agreed, of course, because Donghyuck and Karina were fifteen, and they were the best team the world has ever known.

Karina is a talented dancer, and with a face like hers, it would be a shame to keep her in a small town in Jeju island. Her moving to Seoul had been the first step to her early success, because as soon as she reached puberty and had gained a butt and a pair of breasts, agencies were scouting her, creepily waiting for her outside of hers and Donghyuck’s high school. She’d declined, of course, with a promise to Donghyuck that they’d go to stardom together, but Donghyuck wanted to study and make music, and he felt as though he needed to go to college for that.

Karina eventually moved to another dormitory when she started training. Donghyuck moved downtown to start college. They were in different places, but they were still inseparable.

Pretty much every day Donghyuck would meet up with Karina when she started training; if not, then he’d be on Facetime with her during the hours when she’s not working. He had brought her to SNU many times, and they had started dating by the time Donghyuck is in his second year. All the other guys know Karina and her place in Donghyuck’s life. Somehow, a bitter part of you feels betrayed that none of them ever mentioned about Donghyuck’s great love, but you can’t really blame them for not saying anything.

They broke up on the latter months of last year because Karina had to move to Tokyo. There was no big fight apparently, just the decision that it’s most likely not going to work because—listen to this; this is the biggest punch line of this comedy show—Donghyuck can’t handle long distance.

You had answered one of Donghyuck’s calls by mistake. He’s mad for some reason, perhaps angry of the fact that you’re ignoring him and he doesn’t have much control like he normally does.

“Y/N, for fuck’s sake, why haven’t you answered?” he had cried out as soon as you answered.

“I was busy,” was all you could come up with. You brain had not been working good enough to translate things to Korean.

“What do you mean you were busy?” he had asked, voice loud and angry. “You literally disappeared on me! On my fucking birthday! And I’m done playing nice and cool because this is unfair. Whatever the fuck you’re doing is unfair you’re not letting me in. If you could just let me explain, things—”

“Please speak slowly.”

“—would be easier for the two of us. Whatever Karina and I had, it’s been over since last year. It’s over way before I met you. I never thought of her, not even for a goddamn second since we got together. I wouldn’t fucking betray you like that—”

“I can’t understand you.”

“—and I can’t believe you don’t trust me enough to let me at least tell you what happened! I never mentioned her because I never even thought about her! My Mother doesn’t know anything! I’ve wanted you to meet my Mother for a long time, but given our situation, a fucking time bomb ticking, I didn’t know if it was too early to go to that stage.”

“Time bomb?” you had asked, repeating the syllables slowly. “What’s that?”

Donghyuck sighed on the other line. “The thing that explodes at a predetermined time.”

“Oh, a time bomb,” you asked in English, chuckling. “That, we are.”

“Huh?”

“We’re a fucking time bomb,” you said, again in English, because if Donghyuck could keep talking in his mother tongue without considering if you’d understand a single word, so could you. “We’re ticking and we’re just waiting for this shit to explode. And I can’t wait and watch myself burn, Donghyuck. I can’t.”

“Please speak slowly,” he pleaded in Korean. You don’t.

“This isn’t going to work,” you responded, still in your mother tongue. “Maybe this is a clear sign for us, Donghyuck. Goodbye.”

Mark finds you crying on floor of your living, your back leaning on the feet of the couch, two weeks after Donghyuck’s birthday.

The first week, you had convinced your friends you were fine and that you just needed time. Donghyuck’s been reaching out to everybody, and Mark, being the best friend he is, lies regarding your whereabouts every time Donghyuck visits.

You don’t know how many calls Donghyuck had tried to make and how many text messages he’d left because you had completely abandoned your phone for the last couple of weeks and only relied on your computer to check any e-mails from your professors.

“I’m sorry,” Mark says, and you feel a rush of relief when he talks to you in English. You’ve had enough of Korean and Korean men these days. “It sucks, man. I don’t even know what to say. I’m so fucking disappointed with Donghyuck.”

“Shouldn’t you be more disappointed with me?” you sniffle. “I should have listened to you. We were moving too fast.”

Mark shakes his head, pulling you closer so that your head is resting on his shoulder. “I couldn’t blame you. Donghyuck’s charming, and I genuinely thought he was in love with you. I mean, I could say is, because I really think he’s sorry about everything.”

“We didn’t even get to properly break up,” you cry. “Our flight back home is in like, two weeks. I was supposed to talk to him and decide what we’d do with our relationship. For his birthday, I made a stupid mixtape that he could keep in his car and a very expensive and fucking cheesy set of touch lamps I found online for whenever he would miss me. And I keep making stupid letters like a fucking idiot so I could leave him with a bunch of poorly constructed letters just so he knows how much I’ll fucking miss him.”

Mark stays silent as you sob your heart out.

“And can you believe I actually thought it’d work?” you say, exasperated. “I’m so fucking sorry to myself. I’m just glad it’s over before I did shit I’d regret later on.””

“Shit like?” Mark asks.

You sigh, sniffling and screaming internally because the tears would stop. “I was already looking into internships here. For my last semester in college. I had already decided to decline the internship they were offering back home—thank God I haven’t sent that e-mail from my drafts—and I’ve found really good companies here. And if I’m lucky, I was thinking of moving here after college.”

Mark clicks his tongue. “All because of Donghyuck?”

“Because he feels like home, Mark,” you reason out. “He’s warm, and I can’t believe I’m admitting this now, but I love him. I love him so fucking much.”

“Oh, Y/N.”

“And we would have been happy. I would’ve done everything I could,” you confess. “And this fucking language barrier will be the death of me, but I would’ve learned more. I’d be an expert by the end of the year. And now, this whole Karina thing made me realize how much more I need to know about him.”

Mark holds you closer as though holding you would make things better. “When we were kids,” he starts. “Whenever I told you stories about how much I miss all the people I had to leave behind whenever we had to move from one country to another, one state to another, you’d always tell me to never build houses out of people.”

You remember. You always admired how Mark could move from one place to another, his suitcase and the ghost of the friendships he made following his trail, and he’s always told you about the loneliness it comes with.

“You used to tell me shelters aren’t supposed to be made of arms wrapped around you on a cold night, or hands that hold you when you’re feeling lonely,” he continues. “And I can’t blame you, because humans are known not to follow their own advice. But I hope you find home in things you’d never lose.”

You nod. “I’m sorry for breaking rule number three.”

“You’ll get over him,” he assures. “If you decide to really end things here, I mean. I’m sure you can get over him. It’s easier to get over people when you don’t see him.”

You nod, “Let’s go home, Mark.”

“Back home?”

You smile. “Yes. Back home.”

・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・

갈망 (galmang) - longing

It’s Giselle who picks you up from the airport.

You reunite like old friends, but Giselle really didn’t change that much. Even the weather didn’t change much. The same old. You wish you could say the same to yourself.

The flight to Vancouver was the most painful ten hours of your life, both literally and figuratively. It was hard watching your friends bid you goodbye, and you could tell they were dreading your departure as much as you and Mark were. Mark assures them you and him would save up to visit them again this year and as much as you’d wanted to stay, your student visa would allow you only six months. Mark promises he’d work on a tourist visa or whatever because despite being 100% ethnically Korean, but legally, he can’t just visit whenever he wants.

The pain from your breakup with Donghyuck is nothing compared to seeing Mark leave his friends again. You know how much they mean to him, and by extension, how much they mean to you regardless of what happened before your departure.

The head of student exchange program sends you warm greetings through text, followed by a series of messages from your friends and family. You’re glad Giselle had decided to pick you up from the airport, because you don’t think you’re in a good state to pretend like you’re okay, and Giselle knows.

Of course, she knows.

Giselle’s been your anchor during your last weeks in Seoul. Mark reckons that if anyone would understand you best during this time, it would be Giselle. After all, she’d gone through the same thing.

Like Mark, Giselle moved to Seoul with her parents for a few years. She had a similar experience with Mark, considering that her parents are constantly moving around—from Japan to South Korea then to Vancouver. Giselle was only in Seoul for two years before her parents moved back to Vancouver again, and in between those years she had met Kevin Moon, the love of her life.

They have been dating for almost four years now, two of those years, they dated long distance.

“How’d you make it work?” you had asked Giselle over Facetime once.

“It wasn’t perfect,” she admitted. “We broke up a couple of time because it was really difficult. And neither of us were willing to move for each other. I mean, don’t get me wrong, Kevin and I, we love each other. Truly we do. But I wouldn’t want to plant my entire life in Seoul for him. In the same manner, I don’t want him to move from Seoul to Vancouver for me when we both know for a fact that he’d be more successful in Korea than here. I guess, I don’t know, I don’t have an advice I could give you.”

“I’m not asking for advice,” you denied. “I mean. Donghyuck and I have only been dating for like, two weeks. I wouldn’t think that far at this time.”

Giselle had laughed at the other end of the line. “Let me tell you one thing, though.”

“Mhm.”

“It’s all a matter of choice,” she had said slowly, like she wanted to imprint the words to your brain. “Your heart isn’t made of diamonds. Your lungs aren’t made of steel. Somehow, inevitably, you’d grow tired—tired of timezones and how you never get the timing right, tired of not having someone to hug when you need it, tired of having to compromise—and it’s not an easy game.”

Giselle was smiling when she’d said the rest: “But Kevin is so worth it. I’ll grow tired of the baggage long distance comes with, but I don’t think I could live without him, you know? And it’s exaggerated, I know, and neither of us know what the future holds, but we’re choosing us. We chose to stay.”

It would have been beautiful, you think, if things worked out between you and Donghyuck. You would have written poems and prose in places about how you chose to stay. You would have learned about time zones and the best time to call, could have learned how to purchase the cheapest flight tickets to see each other, would have learned love and compromise together.

But you’re here, back in Vancouver, the voices of Mark and Giselle all blurred out from the backseat, and all you could think of is how much you miss Donghyuck.

・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・

예기치 않은 (yegichi anh-eun) - unexpected

The head of the student exchange program asks you to write an article about your experience in Seoul and gives you until the fall semester begins, just in time for the university’s own publishing house to produce this year’s school paper. You’re stuck at two hundred words and a stupid title Mark came up with: “Learning Languages”—and you’re thinking about withdrawing from that spot in the newspaper but Mark keeps calling you a heartbroken loser and you’re not about to let Mark Lee get the last word.

You’re eating cereal and watching an episode of Suits to prepare to write again (yes, a 30-minute preparation time is needed for such task) when someone knocks at your door.

You know how, in movies, the main character would see things in slow motion as soon as the love of their life enters the scene? That’s exactly what happens when you open the door and find Lee Donghyuck standing outside your dorm room, a too-large for his body backpack on one shoulder and his heart upon his sleeve.

・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・

미안해 (mianhae) – I’m sorry | 사랑해 (saranghae) – I love you

“I’m sorry,” are the first words that Lee Donghyuck comes up with, and truthfully are the words you needed to hear from him. He says it in his mother tongue and you feel his heart in his voice.

“Mark?” you ask, knowing full well it’s Mark who helped him.

“Yes but no,” he answers. “He said he’d only give me your address but he’s not picking me up or helping me. My flight landed literally six hours ago and I’ve been looking for you since.”

Donghyuck sits across you on the small table you own inside your small room. His backpack is sitting on his feet and his shoulders are slumped. Donghyuck allows himself to look small compared to all the times you were with him.

“Y-you look good,” he comments, eyes glued on you. “I’m glad you’re healthy, at least.”

“You, too,” you mumble. “Tea? Coffee?”

“Water would be fine, please and thank you.” You reach over to hand him a bottle. “And who are you kidding? I look awful.”

He does. He looks exactly what he said he had done to get here. Look for you for six hours after a ten-hour flight from Incheon. Donghyuck downs the bottle of water. Poor guy probably hasn’t eaten.

“Why are you here, Donghyuck?” you ask as soon as he’s done drinking.

Donghyuck clears his throat. “I don’t really know what I want out of this trip.”

You keep your arms crossed over your chest.

“And I’m not about to beg you to take me back,” he continues. “I just wanted to explain. I just want you to know what happened. I can live without you, but I can’t live with you thinking I had betrayed you.”

“Donghyuck, there’s really no need to explain. Renjun has told Mark all I needed to know.”

“No, let me say it please. I spent a fortune to come here, and I’m going to make you listen if it’s the last thing I’d do. After this, I’ll leave. I have a ticket back home tomorrow, and I’ll leave.”

Ridiculous. Who would spend a fortune on a set of roundtrip tickets only to leave a day after? Of course, only Lee Donghyuck.

“Karina and I go way back,” he says. “We’ve known each other since we were kids. And she’s not someone I could just get rid of just because our relationship didn’t work out. We’re better off as friends, and that’s a fact we had come to learn when we tried dating. And it was painful, but I couldn’t lose her just because we didn’t know how to date, how to play boyfriend and girlfriend to each other. That’s the first thing I need you to understand.”

“Like I don’t know that already?” you remark sarcastically.

“Karina is a part of me.” Shit’s painful.

“But now like how you are a part of me.”

Oh.

“She’s my best friend, almost like a sister now, and my parents care about her,” he continues. “It was a mistake that we even tried to date just so we could relate to everyone dating everybody. It almost ruined us, and Karina and I, we can’t afford to lose each other just because of that. The person who I am now, part of it is because of Karina. But Y/N, the person I’m about to become, I want it to be because of you.”

He clears his throat again. You look at the bottle of water he finished drinking because you really can’t look at Donghyuck now. Not when he’s vulnerable and out in the open. Not when he’s exactly the way he was when you fell in love with him.

“And I had plans. For the long run,” he says like a promise. “I had started looking up how to get a tourist visa to Canada and how to get you a tourist visa to Korea. I’ve been saving all my allowances and the money I’ve been earning from work so I could book a ticket to Vancouver for the summer and spend it with you. And I was supposed to tell Mom, but I haven’t had the chance yet—that one I have no excuse for. But the timing was off and she met you before I could tell her. She had no idea and she’s genuinely sorry she made it seem like she wanted me to end up with Karina. If she had known I was already in love with someone else, she wouldn’t have said that in front of you. She would have loved you.”

Donghyuck pauses. You look up to see him wiping his tears from his cheeks. “And I’m sorry that the timing didn’t go well for us, but I promise you I had plans. I just didn’t want to spend the rest of your weeks in Seoul thinking about you being gone as soon as the semester is over. I wanted to seize the moments with you and make you—I wanted to make you feel that I love you.”

Your breath hitches. Donghyuck locks eyes with you.

“I love you. I love you and I’m so sorry that I made you feel like I didn’t,” he confesses, bursting into tears and you do, too. “I’m so sorry that I didn’t try hard enough to make you stay. I’m so sorry that I talked to fast that time I finally got you to answer my call; I should’ve explained more calmly. I’m so sorry that we’re here, in Vancouver, hearts broken. But I love you, and I wish I could say all of these in English if that’s what would make you believe it’s real and it’s true.”

But he doesn’t have to.

“I love you,” you say in your mother tongue before switching to Korean. “I love you. And I know you love me. And I’m so sorry for jumping to conclusions and not trying hard enough. Just like you, I had plans to. For the long run. And I can live without you, too, but I can’t live without you knowing how much I love you.”

Donghyuck giggles through his tears and reaches out both hands to wipe off yours. “Let’s not live without each other.”

It’s him to moves, standing a little, so he could kiss you.

The kiss says everything the language barrier can’t. I love you. I missed you. I’m sorry. This is everything I’ve ever wanted. You are everything I’ve ever wanted.

Donghyuck spends the night tracing your body with his mouth like he’s writing a love song and he needs to taste you first before he could write the first melody. You spend the night underneath Donghyuck’s love, whispering his name like praise, taking, taking, taking everything he’s giving you.

You wake up to arms around you and the love of your life kissing the back of your neck. You and him spend the entire day (or at least, the seven hours he had until he had to take the flight back home) talking about your plans and making a list of thing you have to talk about over the phone, but today, you’re taking him out on a date under the warm, sunny skies of Vancouver.

And you do. You and Donghyuck have the best day ever together. Donghyuck gives you the other pair of the touch lamp you’d given to him as a birthday present—you’d forgotten you left it when you ran off; you were supposed to watch him open it so you could show him how it works—and makes you promise to touch the lamp whenever you missed him. He thanks you for the mixtape and confesses he cries whenever he plays it inside his car. He also gives you your small notebook of learning languages back (because you had dramatically left it to Renjun before you boarded the plane), saying you’d need it again.

Mark refused to come because he wants you and Donghyuck to talk and spend the day creating a game plan to make your relationship work. At the end of the hours you had with him, you don’t come up with a solid game plan.

Because Giselle was right, after all, it all comes down to the choices you make. There was no formula on how a long-distance relationship would work. Neither you nor Donghyuck had survived one, but you knew one thing:

Today, you and Donghyuck choose each other.

It’s only the beginning, it seems.

・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・

The sun is out and bright when Donghyuck boards the plane.

“We should go to parties more often!” you scream into Chenle’s ear, taking a sip of your Brandy as you twirl yourself around him, the straps of your sparkly spaghetti-strap tiny top falling off your shoulders in a moment of carelessness, your thoughts somewhere completely else. You may be 19 years old and insanely wealthy, but that still doesn’t mean you are experienced in the art of partying– quite the opposite, actually, having to always seem cultivated and presenting yourself in a way that would suggest that your family is high on prestige and recognition– so to finally be surrounded by people your age, dancing along to the music and jumping up as you all chant the lyrics to Barbie girl by Aqua (how ironic) feels quite ecstatic.

“Like our parents would let us,” Chenle rolls his eyes, lips almost pressed against the shell of your ear as he makes sure to get close enough for you to hear him.

Sighing at his argument– knowing he’s absolutely right, but also hating the fact that he had to ruin your mood by stating it out loud– you shake your head as you down the last bits of your drink, putting the heavy glass onto the tray of a waiter that’s passing by to gather the rest of the empty ones scattered across the shiny tables in the corner of the room. Your brain is starting to get a little fuzzy and you can’t help the giggling escaping out of your throat whenever your eyes meet Chenle’s, the flush on the boy’s cheeks hinting at the fact that he’s not any better at handling his alcohol than you, having just as much experience in heavy drinking and partying as you do. 

You’re only 19 years old and you don’t know a lot about the world. After all, you were brought up in a family that always did everything for you– you never had to move a single finger. You never even had to clean your room, because your parents had people that would come by every morning while you were in school, just so you could arrive home to a tidy place when you were done with your lectures. You went to a private school, so you were always surrounded by people with a status similar to yours. You spoke about your tutoring classes that cost more than groceries for a middle-class family a week, you talked about your trips abroad, and if you had time, you even went shopping with your classmates after school before your driver picked you up and drove you back into the suburbs; your neighborhood guarded by a gate, the asphalt behind it so much smoother than it is in the rest of the town.

You never got to experience partying like this– only gaping with an open mouth when you saw those scenes in the movies you watched on Netflix in your own private movie room. And if you’re being totally honest, you never imagined enjoying such a thing. You never had the experience, so you didn’t really yearn for it, but now that you’re here, surrounded by loud music, experiencing the weird emotional feeling that comes with being in a crowd screaming in joy at the same time first-hand on your own skin, you don’t think you’ll be able to go back to how you were before.

This is not how rich kids party. At least not when their parents are around.

“You’re gonna be hungover tomorrow morning,” Chenle mutters into your ear when your eyes light up at the sight of more alcohol, contemplating on getting another drink, just because. 

“And you’re not?” you tease him, pointing to his glossy eyes and lazy walk, his legs tangling with each other every few seconds from the haze he’s been put in just by having a few drinks. The sight is quite funny– the ever-so composed millionaire son is now a troubled mess in your eyes; one wrong step and he could ruin the image his family has spent years to build up, but it doesn’t seem like either of you care, tripping over your feet and lounging at each other in the middle of the dance floor. 

Feeling like you’re playing a dangerous game, hanging off his neck and swaying your hips to the rhythmic beat, you gape into his blown-out eyes and desperately try to get your brain straight. The more you drank and the more you spent time in Chenle’s close proximity, the less you were able to control your emotions and the weird thoughts in your brain that have been slowly eating up all your notions for quite some time now. Gaping at his plump lips and feeling his palms burning at your hips, his fingers ever-so-slightly hovering above the curve of your ass, you’re finding it hard to concentrate on the music or on the words spilling off his tongue, his voice never shutting up even in the loud bar. You always told him he talks too much, but he doesn’t seem to mind– he seems to actually take much pride in his annoying tendencies, talking your ear off on multiple occasions even when you tell him he should probably stay quiet for at least a minute, so your brain could recharge.

Truth be told, you listen to him most of the time anyway. He always talks and you always listen, rolling your eyes at the snarky parts and giggling at the jokes; so the fact that you suddenly can’t focus and just desperately want him to shut the fuck up must be the effect of all the alcohol you’ve been drinking tonight. 

And your next step might as well be the main consequence of the coconut Brandy as well– because even though you’ve been dreaming of his plump lips on yours for quite some time now, you’ve never actually dared to act up on the desire. But your intention to make him go quiet seems to be working when the train of words stammering out of his mouth is cut off, a surprised noise trailing out of his throat when you kiss him on the dance floor; and to your surprise, he doesn’t seem to mind your weird sign of protest to his endless talking– quite the opposite, really, as he lets you take the lead and taste the mix of alcohol in the Long Island cocktails he’s been drinking the whole night off his tongue, your hands mindlessly trailing up to thread themselves into his hair. 

This is not your first time kissing a boy– you once pecked Song Eunseok on the lips when the two of you sneaked out of class one day in 9th grade– but you never once kissed anyone with such passion and desire before. You’re not sure where you got all the courage from and you’re also not sure where you learned all of this– but it must be working, with how heavily Chenle’s breathing when you finally let go of his lips and he rests his forehead against yours. In no time, he’s chasing you down again, drunk not only on the alcohol now as he tilts his head to get closer, one hand resting on the side of your neck, just a few inches below your jaw, keeping you in place. 

“You should learn how to shut up,” you mumble against his lips, breathing heavy as you break away from him again and open your eyes to meet your gaze with his. The music is still loud in your ears, but you swear you hear a static noise somewhere in your brain, a tingle in your fingertips making you feel like you’re about to have an out-of-body experience. Your drunken brain is not allowing you to ponder about your actions that much, not letting you think and contemplate the fact that you just made out with your childhood best friend on one of the most expensive cruise ships, drinking alcohol you weren’t supposed to spend so much money on, and maybe that’s a good thing– because there’s nothing stopping you in having the time of your life, no overthinking making you doubt your next steps and no feeling of shame or regret making the whole experience bitter as you dance pressed against your companion, letting him press short, yet daring kisses to your lips as time passes.

“I think I’m good,” he snickers, when the music suddenly cuts out, an announcer telling you that the bar closes at 2 AM and that this song is the last for the night.

Sighing in disappointment– because who even knows when the next time you’ll have this opportunity will come– you let Chenle lead you out of the bar, his hand glued around your exposed waist. Your walk is a little loop-sided and you two almost smash into the glass door (doesn’t matter that it’s automatic and it quite literally opened in front of your figures). Soon enough, you’re met with the golden interior of the cruise walls again, the design a little vintage, yet still luxurious, reminding you of the movie Titanic. Tripping over the doorsteps, hands getting caught on the red, velvety curtains hung around, you giggle at every word that comes out of Chenle’s mouth, bodies slowly, but surely getting closer and closer to your suite bedrooms. You’re quite sure your parents could hear you talking outside in the hall, but you choose to not ponder on what they would think of you if they saw you in this state too much, instead making yourself believe that they’re long asleep and won’t be woken up by your voices resonating through the quiet space. 

“So I guess this is where we say goodnight?” you mumble, hanging off Chenle’s neck. His breath smells of the vodka-tequila mix when he hovers over you, bodies off-balance pressed against the cold wall just outside of your bedroom. Flashing you a grin, face looking close to a cheshire cat, he nudges your nose with his, a quiet hum landing to your ear, not heard by anyone.

“Or we could stay up a little longer.”

Squirming under his touch, his lips softly, yet still a little uncoordinatedly landing on yours, you waste no time in unlocking the door to your room– even though you have a bit of trouble with finding the key in your small purse, even surprised you haven’t lost the bag somewhere in the middle of the night– letting your childhood friend in to your space at the suggestion, your clothed bodies falling to the soft cushions of the water bed. 

You’re only 19 and don’t know much about the world when you messily undress yourself under your friend’s eyes, blinded by the glints in his deep chocolate orbs when he looks at you from above and attacks your neck with kisses. And you usually don’t regret much, considering yourself a responsible individual, always rethinking everything and making sure it’s the right choice, but when you look back at this day now, you don’t really know if sleeping with Zhong Chenle on a cruise around Southeast Asia was the brightest idea of yours, considering the mental turmoil it’s gonna cause you on the way.

Well, at least you can say you lost your virginity somewhere in the middle of the Bali sea, and at least that’s something to boost your ego with, am I right…? 

July 12, 2007 – Tokyo DisneySea, 2:21 PM

If anyone asked you for your favorite childhood memory, you wouldn’t have a hard time picking one. Sure, one would think you have too many pleasant memories to choose from, so realistically, you should take more time to pick and weigh the value of each one, contemplating if the trip to Rome was a happier memory than the summer you spent in Los Angeles when you were 10, but you are 100%, completely in tune with the fact that if anyone ever asked you this very question, the words falling off their tongue with interest and enthusiasm, no judgment and no hidden intentions behind their question, you’d have an answer ready with a smile on your face.

You don’t hold much emotion to your past memories. You’ve been on more vacations than you can both count and remember growing up, and so even though you do think the pictures you took in Italy came out good and your skin glistens prettily in the warm sun, even though you do think you experienced a lot of fun while going to the Target for the first time with your nanny– the woman your mum hired just because your parents were too busy with their business meetings the whole time you walked the streets of Los Angeles with the new woman you were supposed to trust with your life at the ripe age of 10– you wouldn’t say any of those memories are as close to your heart as the trip you took to Japan with the Zhong family when you were 6, the summer before attending first grade.

This was the year you and Chenle watched the Pirates of the Caribbean together for the first time, and even though it wasn’t in the initial plan, you two spent hours and hours and hours  of the flight persuading your parents to take you to Tokyo Disneyland, because you heard from his cousin Yizhuo that you could meet Jack Sparrow if you went. While your plan didn’t exactly work and the two of you didn’t get to go to the large theme park– because your parents were busy, mostly traveling because of business and so they didn’t have the time to arrange it, the amount of sulking you two did when you arrived to the rented house in the expensive part of Tokyo to the teenager that was supposed to watch you two for the time being was enough for him to take you two on a short train ride to the twin of the famous theme park– the Tokyo DisneySea. 

The 15-minute train ride you three took to the theme park was your first, and also last time you ever rode such a mean of transport. All you were used to were expensive sports cars and limousines– you never imagined that people took such transport even every single day, at times. You and Chenle were so immersed in the journey that it was hard for your babysitter to get you out of the train, your small, excited bodies almost tripping over your own little feet as the raven-haired boy dragged you through the streets of Maihama station. 

You could see the towers of the park and you could smell the salt from the sea even from a distance. The whole atmosphere felt magical, giggles often erupting out of your throat as Yuta– the boy your parents hired to watch over you for the day– bought a bubble blower from one of the stands and blew out bubbles you two chased around and tried to pop before they got to the ground. There were no expensive cars in sight, no people dressed in suits and designer shoes– well, except from the two of you, but you couldn’t quite grasp the idea of how much your attire cost at that age yet– and you felt truly, insanely happy. The adults that always watched you when your parents went to business meetings were stern and serious, never letting you have much fun, but today was different, and you find yourself wondering why your parents even let you be babysat by a reckless teenager in the first place. He was 16 at the time– 10 years older than the both of you– and when you look back at the day now, you think it was the time pressure that brought your parents into hiring him. You bet they paid him a lot of money, hell, you bet they even lended him a credit card he could use to entertain you two for the whole afternoon, and even though you found him using it a few times, you didn’t think he spent just as much as all your previous babysitters did. 

Not that you knew the value of money back then, after all. Maybe the fact that you couldn’t tell how much money everything was worth back then is what truly made the whole day so carefree and happy for you.

You were children of wealthy Chinese business owners. You always had everything they saw in your eyes– you didn’t even have to say it out loud and it was held up to you on a silver platter. This day, though, you didn’t even have to use that much money– if you truly compare it to other vacations your families have been to– and you can’t help but think it’s ironic how despite this fact, this day is still your favorite childhood memory. 

The Tokyo DisneySea was catered to a more mature audience– even serving alcohol in the premises, a thing no other Disneyland does– but even though you were just 6 and couldn’t drink and there was no Jack Sparrow waiting for you in the streets of the theme park, you and Chenle had a blast. Maybe it was a good decision on Yuta’s part to take you to the DisneySea instead; it catered to your Pirates of the Caribbean needs perfectly despite it not being the initial theme. The ships and wooden coasts and harbors were enough for your imagination to create stories about pirates in your head, the three of you attending various rides and screaming at the top of your lungs together over the course of the afternoon.

“Wanna go to the Tower of Terror?” Yuta asked you, his toothy grin on full display as he dragged you two to the scary ride when you finally got to the American Waterfront. 

The teenager was wearing a black muscle top with L’arc en ciel written on it– you found out only a few years later that it was a japanese rock band– and with his long, black hair falling to his forehead, he looked just like the person that would enjoy scary rides and horror movies. You, however– you weren’t prepared to get scared by green ghosts and eerie music. Not at 6 years old anyways, although you doubt you’d do better on this day.

If there’s one thing you need to know about Zhong Chenle, it’s the fact that he’s a lover of horror. And Korean dramas. But mostly horror– a few years later, when you were both the age Nakamoto Yuta was when he brought you to the Tokyo DisneySea, your friend came to a Halloween party dressed like the clown from IT and managed to jump-scare you every moment he physically got. There was no surprise in the small boy liking the idea of attending the scary ride, and no matter how hard you tried and protested, there was no use in you saying no. Because the two of them wanted to go, and you, quoting Yuta, ‘couldn’t just stay alone outside’, so you were pretty much forced into the darkness of the Tower of Terror, your small body pressed against Chenle and Yuta’s– you refused to sit anywhere but sandwiched between the two in the middle of the cart– shutting your eyes close when the scary music started playing and you could feel the anxiety forming in the pit of your stomach.

You trembled the whole time, panic resting in your beating heart, and somewhere along the way, you found yourself clinging to Chenle’s small hand, squishing it so hard he screamed at you in the dim lightning of the ride. You didn’t let go, though– that’s what he gets for dragging you along– fracturing his bones wasn’t in your concerns, if it made you feel more secure and safe.

The fond memory of the day ends with the moment the scary ride is over and you finally get out of the darkness– with Yuta having to carry your out of terror half-paralyzed body from the cart. To this day, you still don’t have a clear outlook on why this day is your favorite childhood memory, but you think it might be the mix of Chenle’s excited laughter as he scared you every two seconds after the ride, the apologetic hug he enveloped you in after you almost burst to tears the third time, the taste of the sausage Yuta bought you two for dinner, the taxi ride to the rented house you had to take in a rush before your parents got back from their business meeting, and the melodic voice of your best friend when he sang you the opening theme to the Pirates of the Caribbean before you two fell asleep on the same bed in your hotel room.

Either way, despite the terror, you don’t think you’ve ever had this much fun ever again. 

When you peed the bed that night, your parents decided to never hire a teenager to look after the two of you again. From that moment alone, there was less horror, but also less fun.

May 5, 2019 – tennis courts in Jinqiao, Shanghai, 4:17 PM

One would think that growing up with Zhong Chenle would put him into a position of your almost-brother. And while you did agree with the statement on most days– like when he laughed so hard that snot came out of his nose and almost fell into your lunch plate when you were 15, or when he shot you with his paintball gun so hard you had a bruise on your knee for three weeks when you were 17– you think you’re starting to slowly outgrow this phase. 

Zhong Chenle is no longer a brotherly figure to you when you two pick up tennis at the ripe age of 18. 

It wasn’t either of your ideas, of course. Tennis is not a sport a teenager just suddenly picks up one day because they’re interested– at least not when you’re incredibly wealthy and can pretty much afford any other hobby in the entire world. No, it was the idea of Chenle’s mother– because, quoting, ‘the kids barely go out these days, they might as well pick up a sport!’ – and with the copycat tendencies of your dear mum, you were dragged along into it as well. And so now, during the finals season, on top of that, you two have to go play tennis on one of the private tennis courts your families rent for three hours a day every Friday afternoon instead of studying or focusing on getting your stress out of your body doing other, much more enjoyable things.

“You know, you look a little too excited for someone who hates playing tennis,” Renjun– the neighborhood kid (your parents being business partners for quite some time now made you and the short boy become friends somewhere along the way)– states, snickering as he lays on one of the benches on the side, his own tennis racket thrown carelessly on the ground as he watches the two of you running around the court, playing.

“I only do it because I’m bored,” Chenle mutters under his nose, sending the little yellow ball over the net with much force, making you run to the other side of the court. 

“And I only do it because I need to prove to him that he’s not the best at everything he tries,” you add, sending the ball back to your friend. 

“Just say you want to impress him and go,” Yizhuo– Chenle’s cousin from his mother’s side– teases you from the bench, sitting next to Renjun. Her remark doesn’t go unnoticed by you as you send the yellow ball her way after her cousin passes it towards your side of the court again, aiming precisely for her forehead but missing, earning yourself a terrified yelp out of the girl when she scootches closer to the boy next to her.

“That’s totally not what’s going on, but sure,” you roll your eyes at her when she throws the ball back, but you don’t feel interested in continuing the game anymore. Tiredly walking closer to the two sitting at the little shaded bench, wiping the sweat off your forehead, you try hard to not think of the snarky remark that was sent your way. 

Is it really that obvious? Because sure, you’ve always found Zhong Chenle to be your brother figure over the years of growing up– but there’s something about the humid air of the tennis court and his competitiveness that have you eyeing him when he takes a sip from his water bottle or when he adjusts the hairband sitting on his damp forehead. He wears shorts that reveal his calves very nicely, and when you play 2 on 2, you find yourself focusing less and less on the game– earning yourself a frustrated yell from Ning Yizhuo herself as she plays along your side– and more and more on the Gucci tennis shoes adorning his feet as you scan the boy up and down, his figure growing taller and taller each passing day captivating you in a sense you’ve never quite experienced before.

“I can’t believe my mum dragged you all into this shit,” Chenle giggles when he sits next to Renjun on the bench, following you to the shade. There’s only 20 minutes left in the time your parents rented the court for and you figure that you can spend that time recharging your energy instead of playing the boring game. 

“Not me,” Yizhuo says, “she made my mother feel bad about not signing me up for any sports. You know, your mum’s pretty persuasive, especially when it comes to looking good in front of everyone. If it wasn’t for my mum, I wouldn’t be doing this shit,” she complains, shrugging as she adjusts her ponytail that’s always sitting neatly on the crown of her head.

“I love the fact that Renjun here is the least athletic out of all of us, but he is the only one here willingly,” you snicker, earning yourself a chant of amused laughs at the spoken truth. Now, nobody forced Huang Renjun to come play tennis with you every Friday– but the fact that he doesn’t have many friends in the neighborhood was what made him come along, too bored on his own and with nothing to put his attention to. He doesn’t like playing much, but everything’s better than sitting alone at home, am I right?

The three of you gossip about everything and nothing– the new family in the neighborhood, especially, because Renjun saw their son last Sunday and found his outfit absolutely atrocious (“You’d think people with money would at least know how to dress well, but no. That’s not the case with that Wen Junhui guy.”). The time passes by quickly, and when the timer on Chenle’s phone goes off, signaling that the three mandatory hours at the tennis court are finally over, you all stand up and walk over to the gate, shoes dragging along the sandy surface of the ground with much tiredness. At least you’re getting some cardio in…

“Is your driver coming to pick you up?” Chenle asks as you pay goodbye to your friends, both of them getting into expensive cars waiting for them at the parking lot. Turning to him, you hum in agreement, suddenly shy under his gaze. It’s not even summer yet, but the May sun is already harsh on the skin, getting redness to spread along his cheeks, only further sculpting his handsome bone structure you’ve grown so familiar with over the years. 

“What about you?” 

“Told my mum I’ll walk home instead. It’s not like it’s only a 20 minute walk anyway,” he mutters, rolling his eyes at the irony of you having to drive home despite living only a few meters away from him, in the same wealthy neighborhood. You grew up together, in the same mowed lawns, in the same green labyrinths of your families’ villas, in the same high ceilings and golden accents on the interior of your houses. After watching him from the corner of your eye, you start to wonder about what changed between the two of you that made you so weak to him now, that you’re both 18. Did he change? Was it the fact that you were now both adults? You don’t think that’s the case– because even though you were 18, there were no more responsibilities waiting for you than they were the years before. 

“My driver can take you,” you say, kicking the rocks below your feet, “well, unless you want to walk home alone instead,” you add, noting his previous sentence.

You see him take a sip out of his water bottle, shrugging at your suggestion. Chenle’s not a fan of inefficiency, no matter the fact that you can afford anything you could ever want. It’s a quality of him you find quite strange some days, but you don’t ponder on it too much. 

You’ve known each other since you were in diapers. And after replaying all the memories you have with the boy in your head, you think that your 18 year old self isn’t so stupid for falling for him. See– you’ve got to know a lot of men over the course of your life. Many tried to get with you barely before you even grew into an adult, seeing the vision of money and the social status you could give them. Some, on the other hand, never gave you back the attention you were giving them. All relationships you had in your life were blinded by the imaginary price tag you always carried around with yourself, and so everything always stayed surface-level and plain. No wonder you fell for Chenle– no matter how long it took you to get to this part of your friendship– he’s the only one that ever showed you his true self, he’s the only one that ever trusted you enough to go deeper in conversations with you and treated you like a real human being. You know him well and he knows you well; he’s like a book you always find yourself rereading, excited to find that your favorite characters always stayed the same. At the end of the day, you think you were always meant to fall for Chenle.

Standing under the blazing sun, you wait for your driver to get to the tennis courts. You wait for 10 minutes, then 15– and when you get a little too overheated, Chenle offers you his water bottle and mumbles something about being on time. When the time passes 45 minutes after your driver’s supposed arrival, your friend turns to you with a glint in his eye, a grin sitting on his annoyingly handsome face.

“Wanna walk home with me instead?”

And the truth is, you don’t find yourself disagreeing. And you also don’t find yourself hating the walk up the hills of the neighborhood– no matter how tiring it was to your already exhausted limbs– and you don’t find yourself complaining about the lack of AC or the vehicle driving your ass home to your, admittedly, too big of a house. Chenle entertains you with his talks– because he always talks too much for his own good– and when you stop paying attention to him and lose track of where you’re going, he drags you back to the sidewalk by your hand and your fingers stay interlocked when he teases you about the fact that you almost got ran over by a white Cadillac. 

“Listen, there’s this song I think you’ll like,” he hums when you’re 5 minutes away from your house, pulling out his phone out of his back pocket and opening up the Spotify app. He plays you a song by Ariana Grande, singing along to the lyrics of the chorus. His voice goes thin when he tries to mimic the singer’s voice, dragging along the english sentences of ‘it feels so good to be this young and have this fun and be successful, i’m so successful!’, irony seeping from his tone. Your hands are still intertwined as he swings them back and forth and you don’t even really care about the subtle implication of the lyrics he’s singing– because it’s Chenle, and despite being just as wealthy as you, he’s no stranger to calling you a snob. 

When you’re 18 and walking back from your weekly tennis endeavors, you can’t help but feel the fluttering in your heart when your friend twirls you around in your driveway, your white tennis skirt childishly fulfilling your unsaid dreams of becoming a ballerina, before he walks to his house standing on the opposite side of the road. 

You don’t even care that your poor driver got fired by your mother right after she realized he forgot to pick you up from the tennis court as much.

October 17, 2020 – a charity evening, Shanghai, 9:11 PM

Your whole life so far has been guided in the aura of money. When you were little, you didn’t realize it as much– your young, undeveloped brain couldn’t phantom the fact that your annual trips to Italy and summer vacations at yachts and in the Paris DisneyLand weren’t a normal occurrence to everyone. You couldn’t understand the value of money, and you think that maybe, you never truly will. Because you were born fortunate, never having to worry about a single thing, always living in wealth and with gold around your neck. 

The closest you are to understanding just how much money your family truly has is at the charity evenings you are forced to attend. Walking around, mostly bored– because truly, you didn’t have much of an idea just how much money you’re sending to the unfortunate parts of Africa and what the whole thing even has to do with you, when the money wasn’t really yours in the first place– you try to at least look through the flier your family made for the event, reading through the carefully crafted sentences, feeling at least a little sorry for everyone that doesn’t get to live the way you do.

“Isn’t it funny how this is the only way our families can present themselves in a good light?” Chenle mumbles when he reads over your shoulder, a dry chuckle leaving his lips.

Turning around to look at your companion, you furrow your brows at his snarky comment. “What do you mean?”

“Well, we give to charity so people don’t hate us as much,” Chenle shrugs, taking a sip from the champagne poured in a tall glass you’re pretty sure your mother spent hours and hours picking out when renting this place, just so everything could be perfect. 

“It’s just jealousy,” you say as you walk side-by-side with the boy, the expensive fabric of his white button-down hugging his body in all the right places, leaving you light-headed when you let yourself indulge in your thoughts for too long and stare at the curves of his forearms. It’s been a few months since you slept with your childhood friend– and while you must admit that you regretted it a little when you woke up in the morning, with a hangover and sore limbs, you also didn’t regret it as much as to turn the offer down when it was next brought to you. And the next time, and the next… 

“You think?” Chenle asks, and his interest in your answer seems genuine.

“Yeah,” you nod, shrugging to yourself, “we have more money than any of them ever will, so it’s only natural for people to feel jealous and talk spiteful things about us.”

Chenle hums at your answer, licking his lips before he looks you dead in the eye, the smallest glint of irony shining from behind the dark orbs, making you shrink under his gaze. “It’s not like it’s hard work anyway,” Chenle mutters, “if it wasn’t all stolen money, at least the charity work wouldn’t feel as fake.”

You stop in your tracks at the comment, furrowing your brows. “Stolen money?”

The boy next to you snickers at your clueless eyes. It’s no wonder you never really cared about the source of your family’s wealth– you were born to it, so you never had a reason to doubt it. And truth be told, you never really complained either. You don’t think anyone in your place would, really. You just accepted it the way it is, and you never asked any questions. For all you know, your parents are hard working business owners– you bet their money is well deserved for the amount of effort they put in– so to hear that it’s stolen money, from someone who is in a similar position as you, on top of that, you can’t believe your ears.

“I mean, they’re business owners. Let’s not act like both yours and my parents don’t meddle with the taxes at least a bit, sweetheart,” he chuckles, shaking his head in disbelief, “if I were all those people outside of it, I’d hate myself too.”

His words do little to comfort you. They do quite the opposite, really, and even though Zhong Chenle has no proof to show you of the fact that your parents might have at least a bit of dirty money on their hands, you can’t say you don’t trust a word that comes out of his mouth. You start to wonder if you’re that gullible– and who is the one lying straight to your eyes now, if it’s your friend or your parents– and you start to believe that you’d trust everything Chenle tells you, because that’s just the relationship you have with him. He could do anything and you’d follow him to the end of the world. It takes years to build that bond, and so even know, although you have the urge to scream at him for talking such things about the ones that brought you to this world– this perfect, shiny world– you find yourself holding back, the bubble around you bursting in a second, although you spent 19 years of your life living in the fake glory and bejeweled experience. Opening your mouth to ask him more about the matter– to get yourself out of the confusion you’ve been put in with just a few sentences uttered out of his always too-honest mouth, you turn to the boy when a man with a camera approaches the two of you, asking to take a picture of you.

And you comply, because what else are you supposed to do? This is how you’ve been raised. You smile for the pictures, you grin when you find yourself in the magazines, you nod when people recognise your name, you greet people with a polite nod, because you never know when someone wants to make business with your parents and you wouldn’t want to ruin good opportunities for them, would you?

With Chenle’s arm around your waist, your body instinctively leaning into his touch, you smile for yet another picture for the portfolio. Sometimes you feel like a princess– with everything it takes; both the royal responsibilities and the special treatment. More often than not, you find yourself enjoying the spotlight.

“Now they have proof that we were here,” Chenle mumbles into your ear, his lips gently brushing the smooth skin, “wanna get out of here? This party doesn’t look as enjoyable as the last one we went to,” the boy references the time you spent together at the cruise ship, with both the screaming on the dancefloor, and also the aftermath in your room, making heat puddle in your cheeks as you swat his hand away before it gets too low on your back in front of everyone in the room.

“I have to give a speech, but… maybe later?” you look at him, innocently batting your eyelashes at him, when the boy shrugs and takes a step back, downing the last drops of champagne from the expensive looking glass.

“I’ll be waiting back home,” Chenle says, “I bet our parents will stay until this all ends, so we have plenty of time for ourselves when you decide you’re tired of the gala.”

He disappears out of your sight the moment after, putting the empty glass onto a tray of one of the waiters carefully walking across the room, his back escaping out the front door. If you squint hard enough through the glass, you could see him getting into one of the sports cars he got from his parents for his 18th birthday– the vehicle driving off in the hands of his driver for the night, since he just had a glass of alcohol– and leaving you alone in the world of faux and feathers, fulfilling the responsibilities given to you by your mother. And for the first time– not only because you hate giving public speeches– you so desperately want to follow him, getting out before midnight like Cinderella, never attending another one of these evenings ever again. 

You don’t, though. You’re an obedient daughter.

And when you call him up from the entryway a few minutes after midnight, his rough hands welcoming you to his bedroom by undressing the thousand-dollar Tiffany dress you wore to the event– being the aftermath of his previous words or not, you start to think how ironic it is that your attire for the evening cost more than than the monthly rent of the people you were giving to in your speech. 

After a while, your words turn bitter.

March 23, 2020 – South Cape Owners Club, Namhae-gun, Gyeongsangnam-do, South Korea, 1:17 PM

“Did you really have to choose the most boring thing to do for your birthday?” Chenle mutters under his nose when all of your parents stride forward to get another hole in one, beads of sweat appearing on your foreheads as you stand directly under the midday sun. 

“This wasn’t my idea, okay?” Renjun huffs, carrying his golf equipment with him, the silly-looking golf gloves tugged right off his hands when his parents are no longer in sight. “All I wanted was to visit my grandma, but they decided we needed to do something special for my birthday, and when I couldn’t tell them anything I’d like to do, they dragged everyone to play golf.”

“I was thinking more like… clubbing and then crashing at your grandma’s place overnight, but okay…” Yizhuo snickers, watching as all of your parents joyfully talk between themselves, their conversation rarely leaving business matters as they play golf with as much enthusiasm as one can have while focusing on this boring sport. You don’t really know who made this game and why they made it– you can imagine seventy thousand different ways you’d love to spend your afternoon doing instead, more than a half of them supposedly more mundane than the sport itself; but you still know you’d enjoy even sitting down and getting ice cream better than having to pretend you’re interested in, what Chenle called, rich-people-only sport. 

“Maybe I can sneak a bottle up into my room later, but I’m not promising anything,” Renjun shrugs, sighing to himself as he takes out his phone from his back pocket and shakes his head at the sight of the time appearing on his screen. You’ve been at the golf course since 10 AM, and with how interested in the game your parents seem to be, you’re not leaving any time soon either.

Not really engaged in the conversation– because Chenle once told you you complain too much (you truly thought he was the one doing so, but you believe pretty much everything that comes out of the man’s mouth, because he’s mostly right about things) and you think you’ve done your fair share of complaining on your way to the golf course in the first place– you look around, trying to find a thing that could occupy your attention instead. Finding anything fun to do while playing golf may just be the hardest thing to do, but when you notice your companion Chenle missing and his figure appears striding towards your small group in a golf cart, the vehicle going full speed (even the barely 40 km/h looks like it could kill when he seems to not give a single damn about running you over), and suddenly, your mind is occupied enough.

Screeching when the golf cart barely misses your figure, you jump to the side and watch Chenle laugh from the driver’s seat. His malicious instincts barely ever leave his body and the operation of a golf cart is seemingly bringing out the worst in him– thank god he barely drives anymore– and you can’t help but laugh at his little stunt when the cart comes to a sharp halt and he waves you three over with a motion of his hand.

“Hop on, motherfuckers, we have places to be!” he says, all of you following his footsteps and jumping into the small vehicle– you in the passenger seat, next to Chenle, and Renjun and Yizhuo taking the two seats on the back. Once you’re all in, the engine grunts with the speed Chenle’s intending to get to in the weak thing, the atmosphere shifts into one with much more fun and adrenaline– because you know you’re not supposed to ride the carts (not this fast anyway) and when your parents find out, you’re gonna get in a lot of trouble. No, you’re not going to get grounded– you’re not a kid anymore– but the silent treatment and nagging from them about being well-raised and respectable members of society is enough to leave you scared of their anger for the rest of your lives.

“Slow down, I’m gonna fall out!” you scream when Chenle takes a sharp turn, the golf cart almost toppling over on the green grass. 

“I got you, don’t worry,” he notes, one of his hands loosely falling to your thigh to keep you in place, your skin heating up even more from his touch now, enjoying the hold but also fearing the eyes of your friends from the backseat. Your earlier terror is quickly erased with another sharp turn the driver takes– having much more things to worry about now, surviving being one of them– and when he zooms past the group of middle-aged people standing a few meters ahead of you, you already know you’re in big trouble.

Now you’re gonna get scolded for abducting a golf cart. When it wasn’t even your idea in the first place.

Well, that’s something to worry about later.

Chenle drives with the cart all over the golf course, the vehicle providing you enough entertainment for the next few minutes until you get tired of the ride. Looking over at him on your side, gaping a little at the view of your childhood friend driving the cart with only one hand, the other one still securely glazing your thigh, you almost choke out with how attractive the strange sight is to your eyes. Forcing yourself to focus on the road– and thank god, because if you didn’t hold to the side of the cart now, you’d surely fall out despite Chenle’s reassuring words and his hold on your leg– when the man cuts through a small hill in the golf course, the vehicle jumping up and falling back down making you scream in terror mixed with just a bit of excitement.

“Fucking hell, at least warn us before!” Renjun screams from the back, followed by Yizhuo’s amused laughter. You can only imagine Renjun’s almost fallen out, and even though the mental image looks hilarious, you really don’t need him to get hurt today, because he wouldn’t shut up about it for the next 8 working days. And it’s his birthday, after all– you wouldn’t wanna ruin it by having too much fun.

And so, with a last giggle escaping the boy’s throat, Chenle brings the golf cart to a halt, the vehicle stopping far enough from your parents to not get scolded immediately for making so much ruckus at the golf cart, the four of you enjoying the silence, still recovering from the wild ride. Smiling fondly to yourself and gaping at the boy next to you again, you suddenly grow appreciative of him. If it wasn’t for his wild nature, you would still be sulking somewhere on the golf course, pretending to enjoy living your snobby life alongside your parents. You bet even Renjun himself will find this moment captured in his brain as a core birthday memory, and the more you stare at Chenle’s side profile, the more you want to hold his face in your hands and thank him.

“Ew,” you hear Yizhuo’s voice from behind you, bringing you out of your thoughts. Looking back to see what she’s referring to, you watch her gaze landing on Chenle’s hand playing with the flesh on your thigh, heat suddenly rising to your cheeks in being caught in the exact position you feared a little while ago. 

“What–” Chenle snaps his head back at his cousin, while you quickly shrug his palm off your skin, but it’s too late now– you’ve been caught in the act and now you can’t do anything to erase Ning Yizhuo’s memory.

“You know, I thought you two were cousins at first. Like, from your dad’s side, I mean,” Yizhuo sighs, shaking her head in disbelief at the two of you, her comment not doing much to ease the situation either. Chenle seems to be confused at her words, his face scrunching up as he glares at the girl.

“We’re not,” you note, clearing your throat and looking at her with a glare, mentally praying for her to drop the topic.

“Yeah, thank god,” Chenle adds, and you should’ve expected him to make the situation even worse– it’s Zhong Chenle, after all– but his next words shock you and leave you gasping, mentally killing him right here and in this moment, “that would make a lot of things weird.”

“Ew,” Yizhuo repeats, and suddenly, that perks up Renjun’s attention– the boy previously facing the other side of the golf course and not paying you three much care– as he looks around and watches you with confusion in his features.

“What are you talking about?”

“That they are–” the girl takes it upon herself to explain her findings, but she’s quickly cut off by a sound of a middle-aged woman screaming through the place, her small figure striding towards the golf cart.

“Zhong Chenle, what do you think you’re doing?!”

And with that scolding tone, the previous topic is dropped. Thank god.

June 12, 2020 – Zhong Chenle’s room, Shanghai, 11:21 PM

A hand stroking through his hair, smoothing back the bangs and revealing his forehead in the dim blue of the neon light in his room, you lay on your side next to your friend Chenle, a blanket carelessly thrown over your half-naked middles to shield you from the breeze. You hum a song under your breath as you play with his locks, the black disappearing between your fingers like sand, eyes carefully watching his tired expression. 

If you thought hard enough, you could see the little boy you first met at your parent’s conference room when you were 3 materialize in front of your eyes. His cheeks were chubby and he was short, waddling behind you almost a head less than your size, and his voice was thin as he asked you for your name. From that moment on, you knew you were supposed to stick together– and while your parents were the first relative to bring you two together, you didn’t mind always being glued to each other’s hips. 

When you look closer at him now, it’s hard to see that boy in him. Harder than you expected, if you’re being totally honest. Don’t get me wrong, you can still see in his features– even though his cheekbones are more prominent now and his jaw is more chiseled, lips plumper and his figure built more firmly than when he was a little boy– but there’s something about his demeanor that completely changed over time. He seems less enthusiastic, and while one would think that it’s just him growing into being a more laid-back and relaxed person– he’s not a kid anymore, after all– you think there’s something more to it, you just can’t quite put your finger to it. 

Seeing him close his eyes every once in a while, lids falling under the weight of his tiredness and the comfort your gentle strokes through his scalp give him, you feel your heart clench with all the care you’re currently putting into the boy, and all that you’ve been putting into him throughout your growing up. After so many years– after getting so close and intimate with him– you don’t think you’d be able to let the boy go, and just the sheer image of ever losing him or leaving him behind leaves you trembling with anxiety. 

And so, despite being afraid of ruining the calm atmosphere that comes after making love to him, you speak up with a weak voice, contrasting to what you’re logically supposed to feel after getting to know the news this morning– just because you have to know. 

“Lele?” you mumble, hearing him let out a hum, his voice sounding as if he’s half-asleep, but you know he’s listening to you. “What are your plans… after you graduate?” you ask. The day of graduation is coming faster and faster towards you, the years you’ve spent at high school finally fulfilled after all the effort you put in on your finals.

“Dunno,” he replies, eyes barely opened as his arm that’s been previously laid on the mattress in between your two bodies moves to your hip, fingers drumming over the soft skin, “why?”

“Just wondering…” you speak, voice barely louder than a whisper. The boy stays silent– his eyes once again closing on themselves as you continue to play with his hair. One would think he’s fallen asleep, not awake enough to have this conversation, and you would even believe the fact and let the conversation go, thinking you’d find another time to dwell on this topic, but then, as a surprise, his voice startles you from your deep thoughts when he curiously inquires you, the hand on your hip steadying.

“What about you?”

Taking a deep breath in and out, a smile battling to take over your lips, you lick your lips in the heartbeat that comes before your answer. Swallowing your nerves– because even though you should’ve told him the moment you got the news this morning, you’re somehow stressed out about the action of doing so– you open your mouth and finally break the rules to him. 

“I… I got to Yale,” you say, on your toes. The joy and relief you felt this morning when you saw the email appear on your phone screen is daring to creep into the way you speak to Chenle right now, but you’re keeping it in. Not letting yourself scream and shout the accomplishment from the rooftops, you look at the boy, not a change appearing on his face at hearing your announcement. “I got into their business program,” you add anxiously, waiting for him to say something– anything– to your news.

As your friend, he’s supposed to be happy for you, isn’t he? He’s supposed to hug you now and squeeze you and tell you how you’ve done a good job and that he’s proud of you and that he’s cheering you on in your dream. None of it comes, though, as he only hums and nods at your sentences, not even bothering to open his eyes to look at you when you oh so excitedly talk to him about your life goals. 

Something inside of you breaks just the tiniest bit, your mood falling as you anxiously chew on the inside of your cheek.

“Are you not gonna say anything?” you demand, halting your movements through his raven locks, averting your touch and looking at him curiously.

You watch him as he finally opens his eyes and looks at you with an empty look, licking his lips before humming again and asking you in a tone of voice that barely meets interest or excitement. “So you’re gonna be a businesswomen like your mum when you get your degree?” he asks, nodding to himself.

“Yeah,” you answer, clearing your throat. You’re a little confused at his weird stance towards the topic, but you battle out a tight-lipped smile. “I’m hoping for it.”

He hums again, the noise seemingly enough for him to consider it a valid conversation holder, a deadpan: “Good,” leaving his lips after a second, making you furrow your brows in confusion and utter disappointment. This is not the way you imagined the conversation to go– this is not how you wanted it to go at all.

Heaving out a sigh, you tug your arm to yourself, contemplating on speaking up– knowing you’re just gonna make everything worse if you do– but doing so anyway. “That’s all you’re gonna say?”

“I mean, what else is there to say?” 

Looking at him in disbelief, your face scrunching up in various different emotions, all mixing into one– disappointment being the dominant feel, you think, you scoff at him. This is not Zhong Chenle as you know him, and sure, he hasn’t been the most overly-excited, cheerful individual these past few months, but you still think you deserve at least a bit of praise for the achievement of getting into one of the hardest universities to get to in the world, no?

“I don’t know, you could… congratulate me, I guess…? Tell me I did a good job, I dunno… would be nice,” you mutter, snickering once more to prove your irritation with the man.

“Oh,” he says, looking genuinely surprised, taken-aback, even, “well, congrats on the legacy admission, I guess,” he says, nonchalant, as if his words aren’t a dagger to your heart each second that passes, your blood pressure rising as the reality downs on you that he’s being serious and that this is not a sick joke.

“The legacy admission?” you repeat, eyes big and shocked, your whole body moving an inch away from him on the bed without you realizing.

“Yeah,” he shrugs, not a bit caring about breaking you from the inside, the humiliation slowly creeping from the tips of your fingertips to the depths of your soul.

“So you’re saying I went through the whole admission process and put in so much effort only for you to say that I got in because of stupid legacy?” you chirp, gazing at him with sharp eyes, blood boiling from the impact of his words. “What legacy are you even talking about?”

“Don’t act like you’re not a nepo baby,” he snickers, rolling his eyes.

Gasping at his words, baffled at the unexpected reaction, you stand up on the bed and stare at him with sharp eyes. At a loss for words, you stutter a little when you speak up again and utter out the next words, hoping to hit him where it hurts. “Like you’re not?”

“Never said I’m not,” he shrugs, “don’t have a problem with admitting I am.”

“So you’re saying I only got to university because of my parents,” you get out, glossy eyes scanning his peaceful figure, “so you’re saying I’m not smart enough to get into Yale?” 

“That’s not what I said–”

“But you implied.”

“You only hear what you want to hear,” Chenle sighs, as if he was tired of your antics, which only makes you more furious at the whole interaction.

“No, Chenle–” you stutter, his name rolling off your tongue as if it was meant to stop him with hurting you even more for discrediting your efforts, yet, you can’t find any more words to say to him as you stare at this limb body laying on the soft mattress of his king sized bed, shaking your head in disbelief.

Standing up from the bed and scattering around the room for your clothes, ignoring the way putting them on in front of him makes you feel like you’ve been stripped away from all your dignity, you hurriedly come to the door of his bedroom, almost forgetting your phone that you gather on your way out from the messy desk in the right corner of the room. 

“Where are you going?” he asks monotonously, watching you move through the place.

“Home,” you bark out, running your hand through your hair as you walk back to the door, ignoring the hot tears pricking your eyes at the feeling of your whole entire world collapsing in on you when he mourns from the bed.

“Don’t be mad, it’s not like I said anything bad…”

“Goodnight,” you snap, not bothering to look back at him as you escape his house in the middle of the night, running through the street to your house much earlier than you anticipated, wiping at your cheeks with angry palms. 

This is the first time he disappointed you, and you can’t tell if that felt worse, or if it was the excitement slowly and painfully stripping off your bones, making you feel like you’re running around without your flesh, completely see-through for everyone around.

June 27, 2020 – IFC Mall, Shanghai, 4:33 PM

“Do you think this makes my ass look extra hot?” Yizhuo asks, gaze shifting from you to Chenle to Renjun, the four of you currently in one of the designer shops at the mall. Leaning on the wall, arms crossed on your chest and chewing on the inside of your cheek, you shrug, not a word escaping your mouth.

“I’m your cousin, I’m not looking at your ass like that,” Chenle mutters under his nose, sighing as he takes a seat on one of the expensive looking sofas situated in the changing room, resting his head against the neck rest and closing his eyes in what seems to be tiredness or annoyance– either of, or both mixed in, equal parts.

“Oh come on, I need to know!”

“It does look super hot, Yizhuo, now can you–”

“So you are staring at my butt!” Yizhuo excitedly yelps, pointing a sharp finger towards Renjun, a bright grin settling onto her lips when the accused boy stutters, cheeks reddening at her comment.

“You literally asked us to, for fuck’s sake!”

“You could’ve refused, just like Chenle did,” she shrugs, smiling to herself in victory. If anyone was listening to your conversation right now, they would surely have a lot of questions you wouldn’t be able to respond to. Hell, even you’re confused half of the time you hang out with Ning Yizhuo– what the hell is going on in her head?

“He’s your family, of course he refused,” Renjun mutters, shaking his head as he drags a hand through his hair in despair.

“Whatever you say, Renjunie,” she chirps, closing the curtain behind her and changing back into the pants she wore when she got to the store in one swift motion, leaving the boy puzzled with her next words as she walks up to the counter, “I’m only buying those because you think I look super hot in them, just so you know.”

Paying for her things and escaping the store, the rest of you tagging along, you notice the boy aimlessly trying to forget about the whole situation, and his prayers were listened to, after all, since Yizhuo seems to drop the topic after teasing him so much, turning to you instead. Walking alongside with you, leaving the two boys a few steps ahead, she nudges you with her elbow, raising up her brow in question.

“What’s up with you? You haven’t even tried anything on,” she notes, “and we both know you’ve been eyeing that new LV collection, so there must be something bothering you.”

Sighing, hating that the girl knows you so well– that, or you’re being awfully obvious– you roll your eyes in annoyance and try to shrug the topic off. “It’s nothing, I’m fine.”

“Well, that’s obviously a lie. Is it something with Chenle? You two are usually all over each other, so–”

“It’s not about Chenle,” you snap, cutting the poor girl off, “so drop it.”

“Did he say something stupid? I know my cousin, come on. I can slap some sense into him, sweetheart, just let me know–”

“Please let it be,” you insist, tone of voice almost a little too sharp for your own liking, but it seemingly does its job as your friend only shrugs and takes a sip out of the coffee you all bought when getting to the mall, catching up to the men a few steps in front of you, talking about basketball.

“Well, if you need to talk to anyone about it, you know where to find me,” she says, and joins the discourse with her cousin and the boy she’s been teasing for whatever reason for the last few weeks instead, leaving you to trail behind them like a lost puppy, deep in your thoughts.

It’s been a few weeks since you last talked to Chenle. He tried reaching out to you a few times, sending you texts to ask what you’re doing that day to see if you wanna hang out. It seemed that at first, he didn’t really understand that he upset you. After you continued to ignore him even on graduation day, only greeting him and sparing him a few words, he seemed to get the memo as he let you deal with your emotions by yourself instead. You were never given an apology– and truthfully, knowing Chenle, you didn’t even expect to get one in the first place. But still, it’s been bugging you and you couldn’t get his words out of your brain, because you know you can’t do anything about them– if this is the image he has of you, the opinion he created, you don’t think you can talk it out with him in the first place.

“Everything okay back there?” Chenle asks, looking behind at you. His eyes are big and honest, and you find yourself nodding to his caring question. Sparing him a word seems like too much effort right now, and so when he offers you a tight-lipped smile, you don’t have enough energy to reciprocate it.

“Princess Yizhuo here has sore feet, so we are calling it a day. You wanted anything from the mall? I can stay behind with you and go get it,” he continues, his words jabbing into you only reminding you more of the days you spent ignoring him. Realistically, he should be mad at you for it– maybe you even wanted that to happen so he would ignore you instead, giving you the silent treatment, but this is your childhood friend Zhong Chenle we’re talking about. He talks too much in situations where he should shut up instead, and that’s exactly what’s happening in this very moment as well.

“I’m good,” you note, shrugging as you throw the empty coffee cup into one of the bins on your way, your small group now escaping the mall and getting to the parking lot.

Walking towards Chenle’s Zenvo TS1 parked in the corner of the parking lot, you hear the chatter of the group resonating in your ears, not really engaging in the conversation yourself, but choosing to listen to feel included anyway. It’s not their fault that you’re not in the mood, and frankly, you’re glad they even invited you to the outing in the first place. Everything’s better than being left out in your books, even if it means forcing yourself into social interaction. 

“My driver should be here any minute,” Yizhuo smiles, waving at Renjun currently getting into his Porsche Cayenne that he got after you all arrived from his birthday trip to Korea. Watching the boy drive off– while listening to Chenle bitching about his driving (he does have a point though, the poor boy almost crashed into a pole on his way out) – you feel a nudge to your elbow, making you turn to your friend.

“Wanna get back with me, neighbor?” he asks, eyebrows raised in question. 

In any other circumstance, you wouldn’t miss a heartbeat before answering. But now, you ponder on the question for a bit– you got to the mall with Yizhuo, having hanged out with her at her place before– but now that she’s getting a drive home, there was no use in you tagging along with her, since you live quite far from her house. Getting a drive home from Chenle is the most logical solution, after all, and that’s why you find yourself nodding.

Jumping to the passenger’s seat, waving at Yizhuo still waiting for her driver to get there– it should take only about 5 more minutes, with the speed her driver can get to when called– you silently gaze out of the window on your way back, not sparing the boy next to you a glance. He seems to not mind, carefully taking turns and waiting at the stop signs and red lights on his way to your neighborhood, humming along under his breath to the songs on the radio instead to fill the silence. You spend the ride chewing on your cheek, nerves eating you up from inside just at the sheer fact of being in his close proximity again, yet still being so painfully hurt at the feelings he expressed the last time you hung out one-on-one.

His car smoothly gets to the parts of the town that feel more rich– houses growing bigger in size, the gates taller in the sky and the lawns mowed more carefully, with more fancy bushes in the yards and pure-blood dogs running around in front of the gates. After a few minutes, your neighborhood appears in front of your eyes, his car driving past your house and into the Zhong property instead, making you furrow your brows in confusion and annoyance.

“You could’ve just stopped in front of my house so I could get out, you know,” you hum, sighing when he turns the engine off. 

“I was thinking we could hang out over at ours for a sec,” he shrugs, turning his face to you with a hopeful glint in his eye, which you dismiss with an annoyed huff and a roll of your eyes, reaching towards the door handle to get out and walk over to your house instead. 

“Come on, Y/N,” he calls for you, “are you still mad?”

“No,” you snicker, shrugging as you move towards the front gates, his figure quickly catching up to you as he grabs your wrist, halting you in your movements.

“I’m sorry. Let me make it out to you?” he mumbles, looking at you with eyes big and deep like honey, and suddenly, you’re a putty under his touch– just like always, you cave in– as you sigh, following him inside. You don’t miss the victorious pep in his step as he leads you inside, his hand still in contact with your arm, only letting go when you get to his room and he leads you to sit on his bed.

“Wanna play something?” he asks, thrusting a PS5 controller into your hands, not really leaving you much room for disapproval. Grunting and rolling your eyes at him, you watch as he opens up It takes two, your characters running around the split screen trying to figure out the way around.

The silence between the two of you is cruciating, suffocating, even, as neither of you have enough courage to open up the topic again. Tugging at your bottom lip, biting off the dry skin up to the point it bleeds, you sigh and turn to the boy again, putting the controller down. “Is this your way of making it up to me?” you ask.

Cocking his head to you, he shrugs. “I mean, I had a different idea, but that’s up for a discussion…” he mutters, the suggestion of his words making you roll your eyes at him, in disbelief of the fact that he still has the audacity to tease when he knows you’re clearly upset with him.

“Okay, I’m… really sorry, okay?” he says when he registers your mood, sighing to himself and running a hand through his hair. “I kinda fucked up, and I realise that. I didn’t mean to imply that you’re stupid, or anything– come on, I always cheated off you on exams, after all– so, I just- it came off wrong, is what I’m tryna say,” he concludes, looking at you hopefully, his face seemingly in tune with the words coming out of his mouth.

Humming, you shrug, not really knowing what to say. The apology settles a little in you, noting that at least he acknowledged that he fucked up, and so you pick up the controller again and avert your gaze from him. Seeing as his character refuses to move, you look at him from the corner of your eye, raising your brows in question.

“So you forgive me?” he asks, licking his lips in nerves– the action making your eyes travel down to the plump rosiness, involuntarily following his action. His glistening mouth has your gaze wandering around his body, eyes focusing on things you’ve been purposefully ignoring the whole day– the way his forearms show off in his short-sleeved shirt, the way his hair is parted in a way that shows his forehead in the most strangely attractive ways, and also the ever-so casual demeanor of the male. Chuckling to yourself, you shrug, taunting him.

“I dunno,” you mumble, “how can you make it up to me?”

And again, Chenle gets the hint– he’s not stupid, after all. 

Slowly lounging himself towards you, making you drop the controller to his sheets, you close your eyes in expectancy of his touch, already so used to the rhythm of his lips against yours. His hand holds your jaw in place, firm kisses pressed to your yearning mouth, you try to remember the way his touch feels– just in case you have to give it up soon again– a selfish action of your body as you thread your fingers through his hair. 

Lips ghosting over yours, he snickers against them as he speaks. “You taste of blood,” he notes.

“Shut up,” you mutter, taking matters into your own hands as you lock yourself to him again, pressing shaky, hurried kisses to his lips. 

He finds a better place to attach them to, though, as he gently pushes you towards his mattress into a lying position, traveling towards your jaw and your neck. His touch never stays long enough to leave a mark– at least not in places visible for everyone to see, saving you a lot of explaining to your parents and your friends– but the kisses still leave you breathless and yearning for more, hands traveling down his back and humming in pleasure.

“Missed this,” he speaks against your skin, breathless, “so much.”

“Missed my body or me?” you ask, a hint of bitterness on your tongue.

“A bit of both,” he smirks, gently sucking on the skin of your collarbone, leaving you to squirm under the feathery touch. Hands traveling up under your shirt, his fingers trailing across your belly and the curve of your hip, you’re left shivering under the contrast of the heated atmosphere and his stone-cold hands, giggling when he presses an unusually sweet kiss to your cheek in between the more risky ones.

“And which one did you miss more?” you tease, locking eyes with him as he hovers over your body, plopped up by an arm on either side of your head.

His eyes glimmer as he stares you down, cocking his head to the side. “I miss when you didn’t talk,” he says, leaning down again and taking your breath away with a kiss, a displeased grunt meeting his lips as you disapprove of his snarky comment.

In the sheer second where you two break away for air, his hands undress your top, leaving you under him just in your underwear, a position you two have found yourselves in a number of times before. Still, it leaves you shy away under his hungry eyes, only relaxing again when his raven locks tickle the underside of your jaw, lips attaching to every inch of your now exposed body, not afraid of bruising the skin you always keep covered, out of everyone’s eyes. Sometimes, you yearn for him to plant a lovebite to your jaw, to the juncture of your shoulder and your neck, wanting to show them off to everyone and claim the boy as yours– you know you don’t have that power, though, when Zhong Chenle will never be yours and the bruises of desire are always hidden away from everyone, like a dirty little secret; much like what you two have going on in the first place anyway.

“You know,” he mutters against your skin, in between the kisses that have now grown lazier, “I was starting to get a little crazy when you ignored me. That was a first,” he says.

Snickering, hands once again finding their place in his locks, you shrug. “Was the first time you deserved it.”

“Does my opinion really matter to you that much?” he asks, chuckling as he presses another kiss to your skin, to a place a few inches below your collarbone.

“We’ve been friends forever,” you say, “‘course it does.”

“Well, then you should’ve known that as your friend,” he huffs, lips pressed against your skin, “‘m not looking down on you.”

Humming, you let him work his magic as his lazy kisses inch closer to the fabric of your bra, his other hand playing with the fabric of it, twirling the little bow in between your breasts in his fingers as he leans on one of his plopped-up hands, looking at you from the side. 

“Guess I was just more curious about what you wanted to do after school, y’know,” you say, the conversation flowing despite his hands all over you, “before you called me a nepo baby, of course.”

He chuckles at your remark, rolling his eyes at you as his finger trails up your side, your skin growing goosebumps under his touch. “Dunno yet. Why do you care?”

“Wanted to see how far we’re gonna be,” you say, the moment suddenly growing more intimate. The relationship you two have was never inclusive– you two had sex sometimes, sure, but you never once told each other this was more than that. You two were just mere fuck buddies, childhood friends that found sexual attraction in each other somewhere along the way, and while that was enough for you for a while, you found yourself growing anxious of the fact that he was never going to be fully yours. And with the growing anxiety– the smallest remainder of your worries that overtake you in the middle of the night sometimes– your throat closes up on itself when you choke out the next words. “Wanted to see how much time we have left together.”

His hand settles on your hip, his eyes bearing into yours with a newly found heaviness in them. Furrowing his brows, he licks his lips in nerves before speaking up. “Well, I’ll always be your neighbor, so you can find me when you come back. Unless we move, y’know…” he jokes, an airy laugh coming out his lungs that doesn’t meet the expected intention of easing the situation.

You chuckle– but there’s not a hint of lightheartedness in the gesture, quite the opposite, really– as you avert your gaze from him, your head lollying to the side when you try to hide your slowly, but surely growing red eyes. “That’s not what I meant.”

The hand on your hip squeezes the skin under it, his figure now fully hovering over you again, eyes desperately wanting to meet yours. A finger gently pressed to your chin makes you turn your head back forward, his worried gaze bearing into you, and for a moment, you two only stare into each other’s eyes, frozen in time. 

And again, Zhong Chenle isn’t stupid. 

But for a second, he acts like he is. 

“What are you talking about?” he chuckles. “You’re scaring me.”

And when you don’t give him an answer, but instead chew on the inside of your cheek– another place to bleed after you bite down too hard from the nerves crushing you from the inside– he seems to finally get the hint, an airy laugh full of disbelief meeting your ears. Having figured it out, still, he speaks it into existence– as if he needed a confirmation; 8 words tormentingly escaping from between his swollen lips.

“You don’t have feelings for me, do you?”

Sniffling, you shut your eyes close at the question, your silence a clear answer to your childhood friend as he peels himself off you, the feeling of cold air on your exposed skin like a painful slap to reality. You stay like that for some time, mentally counting seconds, each hammer of your heart in your chest like a threat to your existence. Finally, the silence is broken by a determined, yet a little weak sentence coming out of Chenle’s mouth.

“I think you have to leave.” 

Numb, you follow the orders.

July 25, 2020 – Ning Yizhuo’s room, Shanghai, 6:11 PM

“So I was right all along?” Yizhuo snickers, eating from the bowl of almonds she has settled in the free space between her lap and her crossed legs, staring at you with the hydrating sheet mask on her face. You heave out a sigh at her comment, rolling your eyes as you fall back into her soft mattress, shaking your head in disbelief.

“That’s all you got from this conversation?” 

“Almost,” she mumbles, but nudges you with her foot right after, “I’m joking. I was listening, I’m just… shocked that I was actually right and that you were fucking my cousin all along.”

“Yeah, well, that’s not happening anymore, so you don’t have to be disturbed,” you grunt, wondering why you actually told the girl in the first place, regretting the decision perhaps the most right now. Yes, she did bug you for the last few weeks about the reasoning behind your attitude, and the fact that you refused all the invitations to hang out with your friends in fear of seeing Chenle were starting to get a bit suspicious, so you figured you can’t hide it anymore and that Yizhuo was bound to find out either way sooner or later. And still, you think you needed a bit of girl advice too.

“‘m not disturbed,” she mumbles, voice suddenly considerate, “I just- the whole situation is all kinds of weird and fucked up right now.”

“Tell me about it,” you chuckle, the bitter taste on your tongue never leaving despite trying to drown your sorrow down in sweets. “I fucked it up, Yizhuo.”

“Now, that’s just not true,” she sighs, putting the bowl of almonds to her coffee table and laying next to you, reaching for your hand and swinging it around in failed acts of encouragement and affection. “It’s not your fault he freaked out and made it weird.”

“I made it weird!” you mourn, breaking away from her grasp and dragging your hands through your hair in frustration, the feelings bundling in your stomach making you feel like acid is just bound to shoot out of the crevices of your insides, throwing up from the stress and despair. “I’m moving across the world the next month and I won’t see any of you for a long time, since Jun is moving to Korea and you’re gonna work in your parent’s company as well as going to uni here, and instead of spending the last moments of summer break together, I fucked it up and made everything weird and awkward just because I had to fall in love with my childhood best friend. While we’d been fucking. Isn’t that fucking great?” you huff, closing your eyes shut with the tears threatening to fall down your cheeks at your own words falling from between your lips.

“We are spending time together right now, though,” Yizhuo tries to cheer you up, her pout heard in her tone.

“There are millions of different ways you’d love to spend your time with me instead of moping because of your cousin,” you note, sighing, “and I don’t even fucking know what he’s gonna do after summer break, and now, I won’t get to know.”

Yizhuo grows quiet next to you, suggesting the thickening atmosphere. Turning on your side to see your friend with her eyes glued to your figure, you chew on the inside of your cheek. She sighs, preparing herself for the mental tangent she’s gonna bring you on, and reaches over to smooth down your messy hair. 

“You know, Chenle never really liked… this life,” she says, shrugging, “he hates shopping, he hates hearing about investing, he hated traveling so much when you and your family didn’t tag along… At every family reunion, he just hid away in his room and never got out, because he found the whole situation snobby and fake and all those adjectives I’ve never really thought about calling my own relatives. He… he…” she licks her lips, trying to come up with the right words to say, “he sees the world around us with different eyes, and I don’t think he’s happy with it. So don’t- don’t be mad at him for not really… going anywhere with it, okay?” 

Furrowing your brows at her, you shake your head in confusion. This is perhaps the first time you really realized Chenle’s view on things– it’s not like you haven’t heard his annoyed rants about all the prestige and over-the-top lifestyle you all have, but that’s all you thought it was. Annoyance– because at the end of the day, your life is comfortable. You wouldn’t want it any other way. If money moves the world around, you were the one walking through every hallway, all opportunities opened up in front of your eyes; and you don’t think you’d enjoy your life more if you had a bit less money. Chenle, on the other hand, seems to be quite the opposite. His joy is not determined by money, and for the first time in your life, it seems like you’re getting what he’s been talking about your whole life, the words you heard but never truly listened to. It was right in front of you the whole time, but you never saw it, and now that your eyes have been opened, you find it hard to deal with the revelation.

“But what is he going to do?” you gurgle out, confused. 

“I don’t think he knows either,” Yizhuo shrugs, “he’s… figuring out things, I suppose.”

Chuckling, you shut your eyes in despair, thinking for a bit, but still failing to grasp the situation. “I don’t get it. He- he could have everything, but he’s just… throwing everything away? He could move across the world, he could start his own company, he could buy a house or work or study, but he just won’t,” you ramble, “I don’t get it.”

“That’s what I’ve been saying,” Yizhuo shrugs, “but he sees it a different way.”

Laying flat on your back, eyes glued to the ceiling, your friend clears her throat and awkwardly shuffles around her sheets. “And at the end of the day, even though you’ve been friends for forever, I think you’re just in love with the version of him that you’ve created in your head. The version that you’re trying, but cannot fix,” she notes, pausing for a moment before proceeding,  “the only person you can fix is yourself.”

And maybe, Yizhuo’s right. Maybe you fell in love with the Chenle in his sports car, Chenle in the golf cart with his designer clothes on, Chenle on the cruise ship sipping on expensive alcohol. Maybe you fell in love with the version that has the whole world in the palm of his hand, the version of him that goes to Yale with you and rents out a luxurious apartment in the middle of the city, kissing you behind the tall windows, watching over the busy streets– the version in your dreams, the version you wanted to achieve.

But what about the version of him that walked you to your house after tennis class? What about the version of him that cuddled you in his sheets, the version of him that fell asleep soundly when you played with his hair, cradled your fingers through his scalp? What about the version of him that scared you in the dark, because he knew you get creeped out too easily, the version of him that ate cheap sausage with you in Japan, the version of him that studied with you and brought you to your bed when you fell asleep at the table? What about the version of him that cried to Disney movies with you, the version of him that danced with you to the tunes of One Direction in your room when you were sixteen, the version of him that threw rocks on your window in the moonlight the night you turned seventeen, wanting to be the first one to wish you happy birthday before slipping inside of your room in the middle of the night, only to fall asleep seconds later, huddling your sheets?

Did you make that up? Was that not him in the first place?

And maybe, there is a discrepancy between the dream you’ve made up in your head with him, the idea of you two staying together, trying to fix the view he has on the world you two live in, but at the end of the day, none of it was a lie. 

And maybe, Yizhuo’s right; you should change the way you view things to match Chenle’s better, because at the end of the day, maybe you’re the one too blinded by the gold and silver around your neck to see the real issue here.

August 2, 2020 – Lehai Villas, Baicheng, China, 10:15 PM

When you finally see Zhong Chenle after the night he kicked you out of his bedroom, both of you are a mess. 

You’re a mess in the more subtle sense. Your dress is neat, the jewelry on your neck was carefully picked out days before, the heels enveloping your feet are one of the most comfortable ones for you to walk in, since you prepared yourself for being on your feet the whole evening. Your makeup is fixed on your face, earrings dangling off your ears and your purse matches the outfit perfectly; your hair in a fancy updo that you even drove to a hairdresser for, all so that you could look flawless for another one of your parent’s gatherings. Their business partner’s son is turning 21, and while it doesn’t look like that big of a deal, they are celebrating the fact that Mark Lee is now one of the shareholders of their company– and in your world, this is the most moving moment of the child’s life.

You’re a mess in the more subtle sense– you keep looking around, restless, not really paying attention to anything anyone is saying. Aimlessly humming and picking at the skin of your cuticles, you try hard to both catch a glance of your friend, and to also avoid him at all costs. The reality that Zhong Chenle is a mess too hits you only when you finally see him– his tie loose on his neck, a grunt escaping his throat that you can hear from all the way to where you are, his walking a little wobbly and his hair messy as he runs his hand through the sprayed-down locks, his composure disheveled and so obviously out of the place.

And you want to stay away, you really do– to let him deal with his own things by himself, to pretend you weren’t cautiously looking for him all evening– but when he picks up another glass of alcohol from one of the tables and downs it in one go, cheeks getting rosier by the minute, you wonder how far you can let him go until he gets into trouble with his parents; and suddenly, you’re on your feet, just like you expected, dragging your figure closer to the one you’ve been trying to avoid.

“Don’t you think you’ve drunk enough?” you mumble when you appear behind him, his shoulders slouching at the tone of your voice. When he looks around and catches your eyes, he snickers to himself, shrugging, before he makes a face full of disgust at your remark.

“We’re celebrating, aren’t we?” he says, “Mark Lee’s a big man now, taking all the responsibility for a company that’s so great, and he loves the job so much,” he continues, over-exaggerating every word, “and we’re here to celebrate his birthday! Have you… seen the motherfucker anywhere, by the way? Would wanna congratulate him on… the thing…” he trails off, dramatically scratching his head as he speaks the last words.

“Chenle–”

“Right! We are celebrating a guy we don’t even know, or seen the whole evening, but that’s so great, because at least we have all this alcohol–”

“Okay, you’re getting out of here,” you snap, shaking your head at his antics and digging your nails into his forearm, dragging the boy out of the crowded place before he throws a tantrum. With how his voice was getting louder and louder, a few figures turned to watch your exchange, and you can’t imagine the turmoil this will take on him once his parents find out– it’s better to get him out of there before he messes up even more badly.

His feet stumbling on the stairs outside, he mutters something under his breath as you drag his half-limp, half-stubborn body through the enormous land. The gardens are full of fairy lights and adults talking to each other in hushed whispers, laughter erupting out of their put-together figures every now and then, and you take some time before you finally manage to find a silent corner in one of the carefully mowed gardens, Chenle’s complains silencing after a while, admitting his fate.

Carelessly throwing his body towards one of the benches, the lighting dim in the corner, you watch as he takes a seat and looks at you with defeated eyes, the emptiness behind his gaze breaking you on so many levels you didn’t even think you could master; Zhong Chenle is a mess– has been a mess for a while now, and you didn’t notice– you didn’t do anything about it until now.

“What happened to you?!” you yelp out, voice betraying you somewhere towards the end of the sentence, sounding more desperate than you intended. Eyes scanning over his slouching body, you notice him playing with his fingers in his lap, an action of calming himself down that he’s picked up after you slapped his hands every time he tried to bite on his nails growing up, and you take a few steps around the place, running your fingers through your carefully styled hair. 

“Don’t scold me like my mother,” Chenle grunts, rolling his eyes at your composure.

“No, Chenle, because I don’t get it,” you shake your head, looking him dead in the sparkless eyes, “I do not get it.”

When he offers you no explanation, rather just gazing your whole body up and down, eyes half-lidded, you presume he’s a bit out of it– the alcohol truly hitting his system now, making you result in a little tangent of yourself, because you presume everything’s better than his parent’s scolding, and maybe he just needs someone to wake him back to reality. “What happened, Chenle? What the actual fuck is going on lately? You don’t speak to anyone about it, you don’t tell me, out of all people–” a snicker leaves his lips to this, making you huff in frustration, “you don’t tell anyone how you’re feeling, and it’s eating you up from the inside, and believe me when I say, Chenle, it’s pretty damn heartbreaking to watch.”

Looking at him, you’re offered nothing but silence. His cheeks are rosy and puffed up from the alcohol, his frame is small– opposed to the power stance he usually takes– and you don’t think you’re getting a conversation from him any time soon. Ready to give up, you shake your head at him and scoff. “Okay, fine. You don’t have to talk to me, since you have an issue with the fact that I care about you more than I should,” you snap, agreeing to be petty with him, if this was how he was gonna play.

“I don’t talk to any of you, because you wouldn’t understand,” he says, voice almost a bit annoyed, tongue dipped in bitterness. 

“We grew up together, Chenle. Our lives are pretty much the same, why the fuck would you think that I, out of all people, wouldn’t understand?” 

“See, that’s the thing,” Chenle catches you off guard, charming in with an argument barely before you are able to finish the sentence, “our lives are pretty much the same, yet you love it. You fucking love it, all of you do– you love waking up in your little fancy bedrooms, doing great at school because if you don’t, your parents are going to threaten you with disowning you– and what else do you have if not your parents wealth that you coincidentally, also despise at the same time? You go shopping to your favorite mall with your equally wealthy friends, because you’re not allowed to befriend people that are lower class– that would just look fucking embarrassing in front of your parents’ contacts, wouldn’t it? You go to charity events and birthday celebrations of a guy you’ve never seen in your whole life before, just because someone told you to– and don’t you dare tell them you won’t go, because how the fuck are they gonna look all pretty in front of their business partners if their only son doesn’t attend a celebration of someone inheriting a share from their parents’ company– a thing you’re supposed to do as soon as you turn 20, if you don’t attend university they picked out for you instead. You go on fancy holidays and take pictures in front of all the attractions, and it doesn’t even feel special anymore, because you do this every month– and the only time you ever felt alive was when you were drunk and making out with someone that you shouldn’t even think about in that way in the first place, because it’s your parents’ friends’ daughter, and at the end of the day, they would just love the fact that we were together, because that could strengthen the business bond they have– the only reason why they’re friends in the first place, and I’m so fed up, I hate it, I despise it–” he stops to take a breath, his eyes getting glossy,

and suddenly, you’re helpless, you’re falling apart– because the issue is so much bigger than you anticipated and you don’t know how to do anything about it.

“And I don’t fucking feel real, Y/N, I don’t, and I don’t think I ever have, because I just wake up in the mornings and then somewhere along the way, I realise I’m alive and I laugh, because how could all of this be real? How could the money be real? How could anything be real, and– and it’s so confusing, because I should be grateful, but I’m not, because I can’t even fully grasp it,” he breathes, tears now streaking down his cheeks.

It feels like the whole world stopped for a moment; it feels like you are in a movie and someone pressed pause. You stare at him, you blink, and you pray for something to send you strength to deal with this, to tell you what to do or how to comfort him– because this must have felt so alone, and you can’t stand the image of Chenle ever being lonely.

Opening your mouth and closing it, you gasp for air. No words feel suitable for this kind of conversation, and so you just chime towards him– despite all your best assumptions– and hold him. Because at the end of the day, what helps more to ground someone back to earth than human touch?

Pads of your thumbs wipe at the teardrops strolling down his cheeks, every contact with the salty liquid hurting you, cutting through your skin like razor blades– because Chenle never cries, he never feels like something is worth indulging in enough to bring him to tears– and when he catches his trembling bottom lip in his teeth, you break; pulling him towards you and threading your fingers through his hair, the action once lullying him to sleep now used like a broken mantra– please be okay, please relax, please let me hold you until you’re glued back together again.

“I dunno what to do,” he shrugs, his head resting on your stomach, voice burrowing itself into the fabric of your expensive dress, “dunno where to go. ‘Cause Jun’s leaving, and Yizhuo’s gonna be busy with everything, and– and you’re moving across the fucking ocean, and I’m just– I turned everything down, because–” he says, voice breaking, and you shush him with a pat on his back, touch growing more affectionate.

“It’s okay,” you hum, “I got you,” you say; words he once told you at the golf cart, looking after you, or in the hotel room back in Japan when you were 6 and falling asleep, still scared of ghosts appearing in your bedroom– and you believed them, you always did, because Chenle was always there when you needed him– so you only pray he finds comfort in the sincere phrases, because what more is there to offer him?

His breathing grows steadier as you continue to play with his messy hair, his hands gently allowing themselves to wrap around your thighs, your standing figure shelved between his legs, and he laughs to himself, the whole situation kind of ironic to him now. “I don’t even know why I’m crying. ‘m kinda numb, you know, so it doesn’t even really hurt in the first place,” he says, and you wish you found the same humor in it than he did– or at least the bitter sense of soothing yourself with irony– but you can’t. Looking down at his body, latched to you like a lifeline, you wonder how you could ever leave him there alone, to deal with the burden by himself. How could you ever move so far away from him?

“My parents wanted me to go with you,” he starts, the sentence sparking up something inside of you, but he doesn’t pull away and meet your eyes when he continues, foreshadowing a sad ending to your hope, “they said I should study business at Yale as well, that it’s a great opportunity.”

You don’t reply to him, choosing not to push him. After a sigh, he continues. “And I didn’t get in, because, naturally, I was too stupid for it in the first place– no, I was–” he says when you gently slap the back of his head at the comment, “but then they paid the dean and suddenly I was allowed to go. Can you believe that?” he snickers bitterly, shaking his head in disbelief. “Bad mouthed you for a thing I despised in myself, when you were the one that got in fair and square in the first place.”

“‘s okay,” you mumble, compassion dripping off your words.

“And I turned it down, ‘cause I hated the fact that they did that. I was okay with studying the fucking business program, even though I despised it, I was okay with moving across the world, because at least you’d be there, y’know, but I couldn’t bear the fact that they did that to get me in. I think I was too ashamed, too embarrassed, because they had to pay for me to get there, but– I don’t know…” he trails off, and you sigh, shaking your head in disbelief.

“It’s okay to take opportunities that are presented to you, Lele,” you mumble, “I know you hate it, but you can’t change who you’re born to. The best you could do is to not waste all of this,” you say, trying to find a source of light in the deep abyss of his thoughts.

You try hard to solve the problem– to offer him a solution that could work, that could let him forget about the pain for at least a second– to wake him up from whatever deep thinking that got him into this mess. You try hard to solve the problem– but you don’t know how to deal with it. All you know is that you’re trying to pick up the patterns; you’d fit in his skin if you could, you’d crawl in and fix everything– but at the end of the day, as Yizhuo said, the only person you can fix is yourself.

“Bought,” he says, fixing your mistake, “opportunities that were bought for me. I couldn’t do it,” he says.

Huffing, indulging in a spare second of your own pain– a spare second of the despair eating you up from the insides, the helplessness you’ve been feeling ever since you were forcefully kicked out of Zhong Chenle’s life– and you didn’t even tell him you loved him in the first place before he got stuck in the fire of the woods; before you two started acting like it didn’t matter and always ended up in feuds– you mumble a comment, voice barely louder than a whisper, but he can hear it because of the closeness of your bodies in the few stray raindrops that come over you two once the clock strikes midnight.

“We could’ve lived together, you and me,” you say, “us against the whole world,” you comment– a childlike yearning spilling out of your lips, “we could’ve gone to Yale together and you’d figure something out along the way. Maybe– maybe you’d find a purpose if you moved, we could–”

“Y/N,” he shushes you, uttering out your name, finally breaking away from you as he looks up and gazes into the swimming pools of your eyes, shaking his head with a faint smile, “‘s okay. It wouldn’t have fixed anything anyway, it– it wouldn’t have helped.”

“But–”

“You can move, Y/N, but at the end of the day, it doesn’t matter, ‘cause you’re taking yourself with you.”

August 20, 2020 – the backyard of your childhood house, Shanghai, 11:11 PM

You were never really that good at science– sure, your parents demanded you get good grades in every subject and your private school put quite the pressure on your education, but even though you always managed to pull satisfactory marks in exams, your understanding of the logistics sometimes lacked; you were much better at humanities or business-related courses, hearing enough at family dinners to find out your way through the lectures and apply the facts into examples from real life.

So, if anyone asked you how many stars there were in the universe, you wouldn’t be too confident in your answer. You wouldn’t know how to apply the Milky Way as your model– since it was said that it has around 100 billion stars alone– and multiply the part by the amount of galaxies in the universe– approximately 2 trillion– to get a number somewhere close to 200 billion trillion, also called 200 sextillion. 

You wouldn’t know how to do any of that, or how to even count this amount without a calculator, so you’d take a more liberal arts approach– literary, even– and say, that on August 20, 2020, at 11:11 sharp in your backyard, gazing on to the deep, dark sky and wishing for a star to fall so you could propose a selfish wish that could change everything, there’s still not more stars there than in Zhong Chenle’s eyes when your gazes meet after your friends leave for the evening, leaving you with your neighbor completely alone.

And it’s strange, seeing him like this– maybe because you didn’t even realize how used to the dull and emotionless Chenle you’ve been all this time– but it warms something inside of your heart as you take a hesitant step towards him, the first one out of the whole evening, and take a seat next to him in the corner of your terrace, sighing to yourself.

“You actually came,” you note, seeing as he turns to you and furrows his eyebrows at you in confusion.

“Should I not have? I mean, by the text you sent me, it seemed like you wanted me here, but if I misread the situation, I can go…” he snickers, teasing you just the slightest as he nudges you to your side.

You hum, shaking your head in disapproval. “No,” you say, “I just… I dunno.”

“Expected me to ignore you?” 

“Kinda,” you admit, snickering.

“Damn,” he giggles, “that’s fair, though. Considering the previous events, and all.”

Rolling your eyes at his composure, finally getting used to the old Chenle– the one that teases you over the smallest things, the one who doesn’t let his emotions show in his face– you watch him as he takes a seat on one of the rattan sofas and you follow him, body slouching next to his, feeling his head gently rest on your shoulder in the mere moment of silence between your two figures.

“Wouldn’t let you leave without seeing you for the last time,” he says, voice quiet and vulnerable, “god knows when I’ll see you again.”

“Chenle–”

“Just because you don’t want to talk about it doesn’t mean it’s not real,” he snickers, already knowing where your words are going– you’re going to try to stop him, tell him you don’t want to think about it right now, on the last evening at your house for the near future. 

“I’d rather not think about that, y’know,” you huff, frustrated. The anxieties of leaving everything behind are clenching on your insides right now, holding you back from moving freely and with enthusiasm, and you wonder– if you knew how this would feel all those months ago– if you knew how terrifying and painful the whole process could be, would you still apply to Yale? Would you still want to go?

“Okay,” he dotes, tone of voice casual, like it’s not a big deal. 

“Okay? Just like that?” you snicker, surprised at how easily he gave the topic up.

“Yeah. Don’t wanna make you sadder.”

Sitting in silence, you realize there’s so many words you’d like to say to him. You’d like to tell him just how much you’re gonna miss him and how you regret ruining the last few months you two had together, and how you’re sorry your feelings scared him to the point where he felt like he had no one to confide in. You’d like to tell him how you built a future with him in your brain, carefully placed him into your reality, only for him to break away from your grasp and go his own way, and how much it hurts, but how you’re always going to support him in whatever he chooses, because you care for him more than your little heart could take. You’d like to tell him how you’re gonna call him every day to check up on him, how you’re gonna send letters and press a secret kiss to each sheet of expensive paper you’ll get downtown, wishing he could feel the essence with the growing distance between you two. You’d like to ask him to visit you often– he’s gonna have more time on his hands, and god knows money’s not the issue. You’d like to selfishly tell him you find it hard to deal with the distance, and how you wish he wouldn’t find somebody else while you’re gone, and how you so dearly hope that somewhere in there, your feelings are silently reciprocated, but hidden away in fear of everything falling apart once again.

But instead, you don’t say anything. You tend to wait for him to speak up first– he’s always had a problem with talking too much in the first place, after all.

And he does– you can still predict his next moves. You know him that well.

“I’m gonna miss you, though,” he sighs, catching you off guard by saying something from the list of your silenced words, “don’t think that I won’t. Or that the way I’ll miss you is different than the way you’re gonna miss me,” he speaks, tone of voice laced in honesty and sincerity, his words heavy with the essence of what he’s never going to say out loud– or so you think.

“In what way?”

“I’m not gonna miss you like a friend misses a friend,” he says, “and I don’t mean the sex,” he snickers, brightening the mood with his comment.

Rolling his eyes at him, you feel him lift his head up from your shoulder, forcing you to look at him and meet his starry eyes again– the damn starry eyes that always make you spill the truth, because god knows you cannot lie to him– and you find yourself scanning his features, the structure of his bones you fear you’re gonna forget when you’re away, so desperately wanting to lock your lips with his for one last time, because when you come back one day, you may not have the right or chance to do so anymore. 

“Why are you looking at me like that?” he asks, not a hint of teasing in his voice.

“You know why, Chenle.”

“Can you say it out loud?” he demands, and you shake your head– maybe it's best if the words are left unsaid. Doesn’t matter if they’re hanging in the air, for everyone to read.

“Why?”

“You know how I feel about you,” you snicker, “don’t make me say it out loud.”

Because even if you told him you loved him, it wouldn’t change anything. It wouldn’t make it all better, it wouldn’t make it all good– no matter how hard you wish that it would. 

“Okay,” he nods, agreeing too fast again– and with that, he smiles, the gesture so soft and sudden, and there you are– you’ve got a caving heart in your open arms, and Chenle takes it, carelessly choking out the hushed confession, “I’m in love with you. If you don’t say it, I’m gonna, because… you deserve to know.”

Heart sinking into your stomach, you watch him, frozen in your place, for a while. Your eyes carefully scan every curve of his face– the curve of his lips, the curve of his cheeks, the hood of his eyes, his brows, the thousand stolen galaxies in his orbs and mouth glistening like honey, inviting you in. Snickering under your breath, you choose to not give in to the temptation.

“You’re only saying that because I’m leaving tomorrow,” you say, shaking your head. 

“Maybe,” he agrees.

And you know that– you know that if you weren’t leaving, he wouldn’t tell you that he loves you. He wouldn’t allow himself to be this vulnerable, he wouldn’t tell you how he feels about you, because he had all this time– all those months and weeks spent with you in his bed, and you know his touches weren’t just shallow desire– and he never once said anything. He didn’t do anything about it, and now that there is nothing more to do about it, nothing that could change the trajectory of either of your lives, he chooses to speak it to the universe; because it doesn’t change anything, it can’t possibly do so– and so he doesn’t have to fear the consequences, he doesn’t have to fear the attachment that comes with such confession.

And for a minute, you think it’s selfish. You think it’s laughable, ironic, even, but you accept it. 

His hand reaches for yours, interlocking your fingers with his when he launches you forward into him, arms gently enveloping your body when your head settles itself to the curve of his shoulder. You stay like this for a while, in his hold again, breathing in his scent and trying to remember it for weeks and months before you’re able to smell it again, letting out a nosy question out of your lips– and truly, you don’t know why you do so, when you know the answer to it already anyway. Maybe you just want to hear it again.

“So… you do have feelings for me too, after all?”

He stays quiet for a while, before he softly laughs into your hair. “Yeah,” he nods, “but it doesn’t matter, ‘cause you’re leaving for Yale tomorrow, aren’t you?”

And he’s right– you are. Thinking for a while, feeling him place a shy peck to the crown of your head– the only kiss you two allow yourselves at this point of time– you come to the conclusion that  even though you love him, care for him like you’ve never cared for another before, you wouldn’t change a thing about your plan– wouldn’t change the trajectory of your whole life, wouldn't stay in Shanghai, wouldn’t drop out of university, wouldn’t stop everything because of him, because in a way, you strangely have it all figured out. 

And he doesn’t.

Love at first sight? Fuck that. It was hate at first sight.

You first met Zhong Chenle in kindergarten at the tender age of four. He was the new kid – ‘your new playmate’ as the teachers had previously told you – yet he was walking around as if he owned the place. In retrospect, you shouldn’t have been surprised since his father indeed owned the literal building in which the kindergarten resided in but four-year-old you had no idea and were pissed at this charming little kid stealing your friends with his cool games and offers of sleepovers at his home – which had an indoor pool, an arcade, a home cinema and everything one could image, so no wonder the other kids turned star-eyed at such an opportunity. Not that you weren't invited. Zhong Chenle’s mother invited everyone from your group, if not the entire children population of the kindergarten, to her son’s 5th birthday. Chenle was friends with basically everyone or rather everyone seemed to be friends with him, everyone but you. Because by the first time you two interacted, he had already befriended Jiayun who then pointed at you with that snarky little tilt of his mouth, a grimace you had already known, and said:

“Let her be. She’s weird. She doesn’t have a father and her family is poor.”

Children can be hurtful with their words and actions without knowing or meaning to. Children also have no perspective of rich and poor within the walls of the kindergarten, so later you realized he could have only said such a thing if he had heard it from adults, probably his parents, and it had been his parents too who had brought him up to be selfish and to keep his friends to himself.

But it was Chenle who had seen you for the first time then and looked at you with pity in his big brown eyes already. You felt your lower lip tremble, you didn’t want anyone’s pity, much less someone’s who didn’t even know you. You were such a child but a proud one, so you didn’t want to be friends with somebody who looked at you like that. You aren’t a charity case despite your family background or whatever you believed he thought about it back then.

“As if I wanted to play with you. You are gross,” you threw whatever you had in your hands, some kind of toy probably, at the two boys without thinking.

You, daughter of an industry worker, were scolded later by the kindergarten teacher for hurting the oh so sweet Chenle, son of a businessman and Jiayun, son of a doctor. Your mother was called in too, for a reminder that you were only in this prestigious institution because of the childcare program of her workplace. Later, you learned that it had been a warning. Like everything when it came to Zhong Chenle and his kind.

After kindergarten, your paths took different turns and you forgot about the young boy with manic laughter and schedule full of piano lessons, horse riding practice and other stuff your mom used to call ‘crazy rich bullshit’. But then Zhong Chenle walked into your Introduction to Economics class during your first year of university at Shanghai's best business school and once again, he was there to ruin it all.

You tried to be the bigger person at first, trying to treat him like every other classmate but what actually pissed you off is that he didn't even seem to remember you. Oh sure, you were just a speck of dust among diamonds in someone like Zhong Chenle's life, someone insignificant, easy to forget. Sure, there might have been ten or so kids in the group, it might have been only 2 years what you had spent together and it might have been over 12 years since. Logically, you knew you shouldn't have blamed him, at least not him alone but it was hard not to when his appearance had turned your simple, idyllic childhood upside down. There he was forgetting you like one forgets boring lyrics while you, on the other hand, spent your entire life working your ass off to prove that it didn't matter: that maybe your mother raised you alone, maybe you could never afford to go to vacations abroad but you were dead set on leading a successful life, so people like him who were born with the silver spoon wouldn't look at you with pity. So you studied hard, became the best student in your classes and later class president, worked multiple part-time jobs to afford after-school academy to not burden your mother who had been already working hard to afford a good high school after you passed the placement test, you then graduated with flying colours to earn a scholarship at one of the most prestigious institutes of Shanghai, if not entire China.

Hence, if the golden boy ever just acknowledged your presence with something akin to recognition, you might have just noted that he at least remembered how much he had ruined your joyful kindergarten days and you would have been able to forgive him. You had been just kids after all, he acted the same way he had been taught at home, he hadn't known better. But he didn't spare you a second glance, not even after your name was called during the first, second, third attendance check. Him lacking care just proved what you had already believed yet, it made you furious and fury made you more competitive than ever. Suddenly, you didn't care about being the top of every class, every debate and every competition possible, you just needed to be better than Zhong Chenle.

Being better than Zhong Chenle however wasn't an easy thing to do. He was annoyingly smart, quick-witted, his charms (if not his family's money) got every professor by his side and he lied through a smile.

You kept reminding yourself that it wasn't high school anymore but the way girls turned after him, whispering behind his back and blushed whenever he looked their way made it feel like it. And he wasn't even the typical Chinese definition of handsome. He didn't have sharp enough features, thin enough face, or a high enough nose bridge. Instead, he had smooth lines, plump lips and a big head. His ego must not have fit in smaller, you thought pettily. In your memories he was a scrawny kid with short, dark hair and cheeks that puffed out when he smiled. That was still the same even though he had grown taller, his shoulders had gotten wider and he had dyed his hair a pastel colour. He wore designer clothes, an Apple Watch and carried fancy bags while walking around with confidence. The same arrogance you had hated before you could name it.

But the most Zhong Chenle thing about him was his eyes: cheerful on the surface but sharp underneath, cutting and arrogant, full of pity as he looked at you when you got a point less on a case study analysis. It was the third time in a row. You made a show out of burning a hole into his skull while the professor was busy reciting an ode about how profound and high-level his deduction skills were. He just smirked at you.

"Don't be so sad, sweetheart, you can do better next time," he said when he passed by you in the corridors later, his wink irking you a lot. He made you feel like high school all over again: childish and competitive.

The first time you saw him outside of the classroom environment, it was at a university party in your second year during Qingming Festival and he had a wide, starry eyed, taller boy under his wings.

It didn’t surprise you because Chenle had many friends at university, too, that hadn’t seemed to change since his kindergarten days. Whether it was his own charm or his family’s money however, it was hard to tell. You didn’t even care, you didn’t want to do anything with him. Being in one kindergarten group was one thing but university must have been different, right? You tried to avoid him as much as you could. It must have been big enough for you two to not interact more than necessary, right? Wishful thinking because even at a party with dozens, if not hundreds, of people, he somehow ended up at your table where you were left alone by your friends. Shuhua was getting drinks and Yiren was on the dance floor with a boy she knew from her hometown, so you were by yourself, snacking peanuts and bobbing your head to the music when a body collided with the table and you looked up at a smiley, tipsy boy, followed by Zhong Chenle as if he was dog sitting a misbehaving puppy.

“Hi, I’m Mark, nice to meet you,” the former spoke up, his words accented, so you could tell Mandarin wasn’t his first language.

You glanced at Chenle, suspicious, wondering if it was some of the games of the wealthy ones to play with you but the wide eyed boy in front of you seemed harmless, at least to you, you wouldn’t have been sure about himself.

“He’s a Canadian exchange student. The Baijiu hit him hard,” Chenle clarified even though you didn’t ask. Although it explained the accent and why the lanky boy was behaving like that, you decided to ignore your classmate after switching to English and introducing yourself to Mark. In the meantime Chenle was busy making sure the over-zealous boy didn’t spill his drink but soon he gave up with a sigh because of the other’s unnecessarily big gestures, not that you cared, you just asked the exchange student if he was enjoying the party.

“Oh, man, it’s so good,” he grinned at you, obviously enthusiastic and very much chatty as he proceeded to tell about how he didn’t even know about this holiday but he was invited by someone called Renjun whom he lost after his first round of shots and that was how Chenle found him. It still didn’t explain why he walked up to your table to just talk but he was drunk, so maybe you shouldn’t have tried so hard to find an explanation.

“Are you here alone?” Mark blurted out, true wonders in his eyes as he asked and you were starting to think that this was the part where you would be hit on by a guy who wouldn’t even remember it the next day, but before you could have told him that no, you were with your friends, he continued. “Chenle thinks you are pretty.”

There was a beat of silence, at least it felt like it despite the too loud music playing from the speakers, as your gaze met the shorter boy’s. You didn’t know how to feel about the statement and about what it entailed because it would have been one thing for Zhong Chenle to think you were pretty (not that you needed his validation) but an entirely different thing to tell about it to others. What kind of prank was he trying to pull off? 

“I said ‘pretty annoying’, you idiot,” the boy in question clicked his tongue, rolling his eyes in annoyance as the English words rolled off his tongue. The whole situation made you snort. Of course, why would the university’s golden boy, who always placed ahead of you tests, have called you pretty, especially in front of a drunk exchange student who didn’t seem to shut his mouth?

“Talking about people’s backs? Calling me annoying doesn’t make it better either,” you retorted in your native language, not sure if Mark had good senses enough to detect the sarcasm in a language he didn’t know that well. You didn’t expect more from the likes of Zhong Chenle, rich boys only caring about the things they could afford. You went to enough prestigious institutions on scholarship and thanks to your mothers’ hard work to know the kind. It was just like in kindergarten: people with silver spoons were encouraged to avoid those who had grown up among weeds.

“I’m just honest. What do you want? A written apology? Don’t act almighty as if you didn’t badmouth me behind my back, too,” he remarked but he didn’t seem mad or annoyed, he said it matter-of-factly as if he was used to it. As if it was getting boring and you had to bite your tongue because you knew he was right: you did complain about him a lot to your friends. Every single time when he flashed that annoying smirk at you.

It was that moment when you realized that it was the first kind of proper conversation you had with him because you never talked with him in or outside of class and obviously you didn’t have heart-to-heart sessions in kindergarten either, especially after that incident with Jiayun. Yet, he managed to annoy the hell out of you like this, too. You sighed.

“What do you want? I have had enough of your games back in kindergarten,” you said pointedly and the way Chenle furrowed his eyebrows made it clear he was trying to wack his mind to figure out why you brought up such a young age and maybe it was a realization (finally?) or just pity but his eyes widened as he opened his mouth to speak. You never got to know what he wanted to say though.

“Guys, are you flirting or arguing? I really can’t tell,” Mark whined in English between the two of you, his balance kept only by the table’s steadiness and you couldn’t help but laugh at his cluelessness. Flirting? You and Chenle? It was ridiculous and seeing his expression, for once, the boy seemed to agree with you.

“Man, you are wasted,” he groaned, dragging out his syllables to show his irritance. “We’re leaving.”

He said it with such conviction that Mark had no chance objecting and you were kind of glad he did because you didn’t want to explain the two guys’ presence to Shuahua when she would get back with your drinks.

“Oh, and if you feel wronged and petty over something that happened a decade ago, try to find something better to obsess over, we are not kids anymore,” Chenle turned back to you with words cold like ice and a cutting tone which had you clench your jaw, not knowing how to answer because his claim felt both offensive (easy for him to say!) and right (no, you indeed weren’t kids anymore).

Mark waved you goodbye with a giddy grin but you just sat there with your leftover peanuts thinking: you just let Zhong Chenle walk over you and won once again. Admitting defeat hurt more than him calling you annoying or petty. You wouldn’t have cared about those if you had taught him a lesson just once about how it felt being on the sore losing side. Right?

Zhong Chenle's life was picture perfect.

He had grown up in a loving family as the second son of a successful businessman. He was an exception to China's one child policy because when you had money, such things didn't apply to you. Chenle had learned at a young age how much influence wealth had meant but for the longest time he didn't know what he had in his life – the dozens of gifts, the overseas island vacations, the buildings his father owned, the private piano lessons from genius pianists and all that – wasn't given to everyone. He had an apartment on his name in Shanghai at the ripe age of 18 as a birthday gift, he had a bank account full of money despite never working before, he had many friends just as influential and wealthy and he was on the top of his major at university. It sounded perfect, didn't it?

But nothing could be such a thing without at least a few drawbacks. What flaws a problem-free life could have one could ask but anybody in Chenle's shoes could tell them about how it's always about money with him. Whatever he did, people always asked about his family, his connections, his prestigious schools, his competitions, his future that might not have been decided for him but was expected of him anyways. Those damned expectations all the damn time. People rarely asked about him: what he liked, what he didn't, what he did just for fun or else they expected grandiose things like jet skiing in their private holiday house just because he could do so.

It was hard to make friends, true friends who didn't care about his wealth or had some other kind of interior motive because of his family. The boy had to learn the hard way that some people only befriended him to get into specific circles, to get into specific clubs, and some girls only dated him for expensive dates and gifts because he didn't care about price when it came to such things. At one point, he had thought that he would be better off with people in his class (whatever that ‘same class’ bullshit was he hated it but back then he hadn't known better) because they had less to gain with his closeness but he had to face the cruel truth that everybody wanted a piece of what they thought Zhong Chenle was. The wealthy might not want simply money but worse: they made a business deal out of everything, they put a price tag on his friendship or whatever they thought of it.

So Chenle had grown up to be a boy whose true attachment and care was hard to earn behind his goofy smiles and sparkling, always amused eyes. He always had people around him but he rarely had people at his, that place was only for the ones really close to him, the ones he really trusted, the ones who knew the real him. He could probably count the people who qualified the criteria on two hands: Qian Kun, his piano teacher who had known him for 10 years and whom he always teased with leading a boring life; Dong Sicheng, another big brother-like friend, son of one of his parents' friends; Huang Renjun from the facultative Art class he took in his first semester at university out of curiosity and who acted like he didn't give a shit about anything but was probably one of the most caring souls Chenle had ever met and for that he kept teasing him; Dejun and Yangyang, his online gaming bros who cared more about his scores than the amount of ¥ in his account, so he had already invited him over to play if they ever went to Shanghai; Mark Lee, the exchange student he had stumbled upon on campus and felt bad for because he had looked like a lost puppy and he was as harmless as one with his bright eyes at everything; and of course, Ning Yizhuo. his oldest friend to date and one of the most girly girls Chenle knew. They lived in the same neighborhood and attended the same elementary school and befriended at the age where kids made friends from one day to another only to forget them a week later yet they stuck together through thick and thin: Chenle was there for her when a boy broke her heart for the first time and she was there for him when he realized he had become just a paycheck for one of his best friends at the time. Many thought that at one point they would end up together but the boy couldn't imagine himself seeing her as anything but a cute little sister, especially not with how she was still reluctant to admit that he was better at PUBG after he had beaten her!

And then there was you.

Not as a friend, of course, god forbid! But if there were 1) the close friends, 2) the acquittances who might have thought they were casual friends and 3) the ones who wanted to take advantage of him, then there must have been another category, too: people who hated him not for who he was but for what he represented because there was no way you could have known him.

It wasn't his fault that he was born into a rich family, it wasn't his fault that he was loved by his parents and didn't turn out like an arrogant asshole, so if you wanted to hate him for something, you could have only rightfully done so because he worked harder. He didn't get his grades on a silver plate like he would get a job at his father's company or even a private jet. He actually studied hard to not disappoint but he wasn't particularly interested in business, so he found it dull and at one point, ironically you made it fun again. You with your pouts and eye rolls, you with your annoyed wrinkles between your eyebrows when he got the question right before you, you with your rivalry he didn't exactly understand where it had come from, not even after your comment at the Qingming party but at least he could be sure that you didn't want anything from him, so he went along with this, provoking you with his smug grins and cocky shrugs whenever he got better scores or faster answers than you. He found it cute when you were angry.

And oh how angry you must have been under the surface when Miss Xu handed over the application form for the national business case study competition.

"It would be great if the two of you could represent our universities. Your performance was outstanding in your tests and essays separately, so I'm sure you would be a very strong team in this competition. The application deadline is the end of semester and then we would have the entire summer break to prepare, so take your time thinking it through and get back to me if you have decided," she smiled at both of you politely but obviously hopeful.

Oh how fun, Chenle thought with an amused grin when the professor left to give you time and space for you to talk.

"I guess, we will be seeing each other a lot this summer. If you don’t act petty that is," he raised a brow challengingly at you as if your answer wasn't even a question. He had already known you couldn't back down, not from a competition even if it wasn't against him. He might not have known your reason for being so obsessed with being the best but he could understand the urge to say yes to challenges. Seeing through the cracks of your thick walls was one hell of a challenge after all and it had been a while he had as much fun as to see you suffer. He was already anticipating this summer.

You already hated this summer.

No, not because you couldn't laze around since you had a competition to prepare for but because you had to endure Zhong Chenle's almighty presence even during breaks. Sure, you could have said no, you could have avoided the whole situation altogether by telling Miss Xu that you didn't want to participate in this contest or simply that you weren't interested or didn't have time. But Chenle's last sentence irked you more than you would have liked to admit and there was no way you would let him think that you would run away or be more childish than he was, so applying it was.

At first, it only meant weekly meetings in your over-enthusiastic mentor's office room on the campus to discuss your findings about the case she had assigned to you the week before but it didn't take long for Miss Xu to put two and two together and realize that you and your teammate didn't interact outside of this practice at all. It was pretty evident that you didn't come to her as a team but individuals because you kept pointing out weak reasonings and faulty findings in each other's proposed solution. You started pity fights over matters of definitions or different interpretation of the text, about the importance of sustainability or company reputation, so no wonder even the young professor had enough at one point. You had it long coming if you wanted to be honest.

"You do realize that it isn't a competition between the two of you but you against other schools’ representatives, right? Will you keep arguing the whole time when you will have to solve the case assigned on the spot? You need to learn how to work together," Miss Xu reminded your duo while looking from one of you to the other. "It's good that you have different opinions and ideas but when the other shares them, don't just think about why it's not as good as yours but try to take it into consideration, too. You will have to agree on what to present as your final agreed solution at the competition after all."

For a long moment there was only silence following your quick, quiet apologies but then Chenle had to speak up and hit your nerves:

"I'm sorry for disappointing you, Miss Xu, it's just... she's impossible to work with."

"I'm impossible?? It was you who nitpicked on my perfectly viable proposition about the material shortage," you shrieked at which the boy rolled his eyes, already having his retort ready. But before he could have opened his mouth and blabber about nonsense, the professor intervened.

"Alright, you two, that's it for today," she sighed, looking through her papers to look for a new case to assign for your next session of practice while you folded your arms in front of your chest, refusing to look at the boy in the chair next to you. You didn't want to do anything with him in the next seven days until you had to meet up like this again. But you really weren't in the favor of Fortuna as it seemed. "Since you two get personal even when you shouldn't, your task for next week will be a bit different: analyze each other as if they were a case to solve. I want a page long, honest analysis from both of you and then I want you two to meet up and discuss your findings. Then write a paper about how your perception of the other has changed. I want both papers to be handed to me in two weeks and while I won't read these because it's your private business, I will know if you fill the paper with bullshit or skip out the meeting."

The new task rendered both of you speechless but you couldn't even protest because Miss Xu was already standing up and signaling you to pack up.

Walking out of her office with Chenle on your side had never felt so... nerve-wracking? Gosh, what kind of analysis it was! You shot the guy a resentful glance as if this punishment was all his fault and you saw the corner of his mouth twitch in what looked like amusement. Did he enjoy it? Or did he just enjoy your suffering? You genuinely couldn't tell and that was just one more proof that you didn't know him, but it didn't mean that you particularly wanted to. You came from two different worlds after all and your paths had already crossed each other more than they should have. There was no point in getting to know each other, not even for the sake of a competition but you weren't a rebellious student who could just ignore their teacher's words. You wondered if it simply wasn't the same for Chenle or he thought his charm could get him out of this as well because he left you without a word, without discussing anything about how you will meet up, as if it was just another boring case study the two of you took home to think over.  Maybe for him it was and his nonchalance annoyed you even more.

chenle: how's your diss rap going lol?

Your phone pinged with the new notification and looking at the sender, it was easy to figure out that Zhong Chenle looked you up on social media to be able to get in contact just two days before your deadline. You were actually surprised he did because you were already planning to let go of your pride and search for his contact info a day before you would have to hand in two papers out of which you were merely done with one. Even that was an overstatement: you had a list of qualities you didn't like in Zhong Chenle but after you wrote all that you felt a tad bit bad and added a few sentences about how he was indeed irritatingly smart and witty which the professors seemed to love in him. He also had this magnetic aura that drew in people. Your analysis was simple based on all that: he had grown up without much hardships and he had gotten used to getting whatever he wanted and things going the way he wanted, no wonder he became arrogant and oh so cocky. What more was there to say? Should you have pointed out that he looked down on people like you and how it probably hurt his pride that he had to be in a team with someone like you, someone coming from not even a middle class fractured family? So what if your hatred had come from kindergarten if it was well-founded?

you: you could say so. curious?

You texted back instead of wasting more time asking about how he got your WeChat info. Since you shared multiple classes together in the last two years, he could have easily found you through one of the group chats. And it didn't matter anyways.

chenle: let's send it to each other

you: didn't miss xu told us to meet up to discuss it?

chenle: does it look like i care? or do you want to cry in front of me?

You pressed your lips in a thin line at Chenle's obvious attempt at riling you up and you hated how easily he managed to do it despite you being aware of his antics.

you: fine. [Zhong Chenle Analysis.pdf sent]

chenle: [miss_perfectionist.pdf sent]

You rolled your eyes already seeing the title of the document before you opened it and met curt sentences about yourself. You braced yourself for all the offenses in the world because you knew Chenle's words could cut deep like a knife if he wanted to be harsh and then you started reading.

Miss Perfectionist as it says is someone who hates when things are not perfect or not going perfectly how she wishes. She hates being told that she's not right. She hates being in second place. Therefore, she hates me as I stand in the way of her perfect plans.

She's a hard worker but she blames the circumstances when things go wrong. She's petty and holds grudges for long and over small things, too. She's childish with her retorts and annoying when she acts all self-righteous. She's sensitive and insecure...

You stopped reading. Okay, what else did you expect from him of all people?

chenle: why am i not surprised that you think i'm a heartless snob? Chenle's text came but you couldn't tell if he found the situation humorous in an ironic way or if he was just as bitter as you. Not that you cared too much as you typed out your reply:

you: oh because you know sensitive and insecure little old me so well apparently

chenle: you aren't exactly disproving my points with your behavior now

You clicked your tongue during a grimace. As if you had anything to prove, you didn't owe him explanations just because of this assignment.

you: aren't i? or are you just used to things always going your way?

chenle: you really think i have everything, huh?

you: well, prove me wrong

chenle: challenge accepted,

He replied right away but you left him on read.

What else could you have said? Not to mention this discussion was not at all helpful, as both of you seemed unapologetic about your behaviors, there was no way your perceptions would change, not enough to write another few hundreds words on the topic. You groaned into your pillow in annoyance and stood up to get yourself ice cream to fight both the heat and the fight-or-flight reflex you had whenever the boy danced on your nerves. But your phone buzzed again before you could have left your room, so with a sigh you checked the series of texts you have gotten.

chenle: [location shared]

chenle: be there by 6m

chenle: oh and dress pretty

Hah, as if. You snorted and threw your phone onto your bed, heading to the kitchen in your homey shorts and top. You didn’t plan on going out, much less for him.

Zhong Chenle stood in the middle of the garden in his loose Saint Laurent shirt, nursing a glass of champagne and he kept glancing towards the rose-laced entrance. He didn't particularly like to play dress up but he also understood that these kinds of events were important for his parents, so he did his best to doll up in order to repay them for the endless support he had gotten from them over the years. Because unlike many heir kids, he wasn't forced into studying business and following his brother's footstep nor he was expected to show up at blind dates, so he could marry a pretty girl from an equally wealthy family to provide the picture perfect image of their family. He studied business because he didn't know what else to do and because analysis and numbers were something he had always been good at. He planned to work for the company not because it was easy or because he was expected to but because he had seen too much of what happened at conglomerates and he didn't want to accidentally get into a dirty business somewhere else causing trouble for his own family. And the girls he dated, he was actually interested in them, even if briefly. So no, his parents never forced him to do anything and not because he wasn't the first child of the family but because they actually treated him like their son and not just another asset.

And that Chenle had had enough of being treated like early on.

So from time to time, when he showed up at these parties of rich circles, he smiled politely at everyone who commented on how much he had grown even though he hadn't become taller in years or told them about his studies and over-the-top marks on his Gaokao exam even though he was bored with the same old questions. But just because he did so while he was wearing a dress shirt instead of his usual casual tees and styled his hair for once, he wasn't less of himself. Because if Zhong Chenle was a firm believer of something, it was that he wanted to control his own life by his own decisions even if he made stupid mistakes.

"Bored already?" Someone singsonged as he was nudged in the shoulder and turning towards the familiar voice, he faced Yizhuo's blinding smile. She looked like a princess in her silver, flowery dress, perfect for summer and while the boy would have never told her face-to-face (not without exceptional circumstances!), she was the prettiest without any glamour like this, the most vibrant too.

"You have no idea," Chenle sighed with a little dramatic grimace in the corner of his mouth which earned an amused chuckle from the girl who he swore must have lived to have fun at his struggling. Because unlike him, Yizhuo actually liked socializing at events like this. She liked flirting with boys who could never get her and she liked engaging in the latest celebrity gossip with the other girls. Whenever the boy called her out on being a bit too much at these events, she just shrugged and told him that it was just playing a role and she was doing a better job at it than him with his resting bitch face as she liked to point out.

"Entertain me then. How much?" she asked, stealing his glass and sipping on the sweet champagne.

There was a pause. Chenle wondered if he should have told her about the most recent mistake he made or if he should have let her figure it out. Maybe he could keep it (his momentary weakness) as his dirty little secret, maybe he should have...

"I invited Miss Perfectionist to the party," he blurted out anyways, without thinking because he needed someone else to tell him what he had already known: that it was stupid.

"You did what? For real?" Yizhuo's eyes widened in surprise and she immediately turned her head to look around in the tender green garden among blooming petunias and guests in fancy clothes. "Is she here? You have to introduce us!"

"I dunno, I don't think so and I don't think she will come at all," the boy shrugged knowing it all too well that it was just an impulse decision to text you that. He'd just had enough of you acting like you knew better when you didn't know him at all.

Chenle told himself he didn’t really care if you were coming or not. If you liked your delusions so much, who was he to break down reality for you? If you wanted to paint him like a villain, he could easily become one. Just for you.

You two had been dancing around each other for a year and half, making assumptions, competing even when it wasn't a competition. He didn't know your reasons but at first he found your behaviour amusing. Lately, he had rather started finding it a little annoying, so when you poked, he made sure to poke back.

"Too bad. I would like to get to know the girl who manages to get these reactions out of you," Yizhuo hummed behind the edge of the glass and clicked her tongue at Chenle's eye roll. "For real! Do you even notice how much you talk about her? She almost had me at the Economics test today! She has this weird habit of twirling her hair while thinking, like who does that?"

"I don't even sound like that!" The boy protested and not having a better comeback (an extremely rare occasion because Zhong Chenle's wits always had a suitable retort!), he plucked the now almost empty glass out of his friend's hands. "And get your own champagne."

Yizhuo's content smile was beautifully threatening as she tilted her head.

"And you, get your girl," she nodded towards the entrance of the garden. Chenle faked nonchalance as he slowly turned around and he swore under his nose when he saw you. He should have known better than to show your profile picture to someone like Ning Yizhuo. Of course, she would use it against him. Because now he had no excuse to not walk up to you. He had invited you after all. Shit.

You had no idea what you were doing at a place like this.

After Chenle texted you about the location and time, you tried not to think about it but then ended up searching on Weibo if it was the kind of event you should have known of and when you got to know that it was a charity 'picnic' to help underprivileged families provide better education for their kids, you couldn't not attend with your curiosity leading you. That and because both Yiren and Shuhua would have been so disappointed if you just ignored an invitation like this. And while you didn't wish to entertain Chenle's bossiness or society's conventions against women by following his almost orders, you did dress up 'pretty' or at least a bit more elegantly than you did for classes or your part-time jobs. You weren't sure exactly how fancy this event would be but you didn't want to stick out like a sore thumb. Mixing with the crowd was the best way to not get noticed and that was what you were aiming for as you walked up to the entrance of the gorgeous garden full of flowers and waiters running around among the guests. It looked nice but you weren't exactly sure how much of it was for actual charity and how much for the show. What did people do at such places anyway?

"Can I help you, Miss?" A man dressed in all black with a stern face walked up to you and you gulped anxiously. Were you supposed to have an invitation? Should you have been on a list of special people only to be there? Was Zhong Chenle pulling a major prank on you just to prove that he was indeed a jerk? Was he–

"She's with me," an annoyingly familiar voice spoke up by your side and you bit into your lower lip, stopping your thoughts from going haywire. Okay, so maybe he wasn't trying to humiliate you in front of a bunch of rich people, at least not like this, you noted as the bodyguard walked off and you turned to the boy. Oh, he looked differently from how he usually did as well, now he was more... tidied up? No messy locks, no shirt sleeves rolled up or buttons left unbuttoned. He looked more mature and unapproachable as he usually did.

"Am I your plus one now?" You asked him instead of thanking him for the intervention. You didn't like the idea of belonging to anyone but yourself but luckily Chenle didn't think you owed him anything for such a thing just because he invited you and you decided to come.

"No," he rolled his eyes with a snort as if the idea itself was ridiculous. Then he glanced away and shrugged. "You just looked a little lost there."

"What a gentleman," you remarked, tone full of irony but only because you didn't know what else you could have said. It was actually kind of him but at the same time you wouldn’t have been in this situation if he hadn’t invited you.

"Don't push it," he said it as a warning and you didn't keep questioning his mannerism. Instead you let him lead you farther from the rose-adorned entrance and get you both a glass of alcohol each as he briefly explained what kind of event this was. He didn't need to point out that his family was one of the regular donors and he was there to represent the Zhongs, your deduction skills were good enough to put two and two together.

"Shouldn't you be busy mingling with your rich friends then, instead of me?" you asked and if you wanted to be really honest, it was coming from your sense of inferiority rather than because you'd had enough of his company. You didn't think you were less than his 'rich friends' but you did envy them because unlike you, they looked like they fit into a crowd like this. Like that pretty girl in a frothy dress talking with two tall, lanky boys a bit older than all three of you not too far from you. She looked like she was born to be the star at events like this while you felt like an ugly duckling in your own dress and home-made makeup and hair.

Your concerns and feelings weren't invalid even if Chenle scoffed nor just because you were glad he did. So he didn't care what others might have thought of him because he was being seen with you? It was a relief you didn't know you needed to bear.

"If you really think that I would do that, why did you come at all?" The boy questioned, pointedly, and he had every right to be confused. You weren't sure why you really came: was it the charity, was it the possibility of your friends' nagging or was it because you were curious whether he could prove you wrong? You had no idea, so no, you weren't going to tell him that.

"Why did you invite me?" You threw back the ball to his court.

"Touché," Chenle grimaced but there was something akin to amusement in the corner of his mouth. He took a sip from his drink before adding: "I don't keep company to show off, so I don't care about them being rich or whatever, just that they're being real about themselves."

At first you didn't understand what he meant by it but within the next hour your duo was approached by multiple people, all of them asking about his father's business and asking for favours without actually asking. Barely any of them acknowledged your presence as if you were a pretty accessory even if Chenle made sure to introduce you to the other guests and vica versa. You appreciated the sentiment because this way you didn't feel so lost even if you weren't particularly fond of the conversations themselves. Chenle didn't seem to like them either.

"... and she's a classmate from business school," he told about you to a nice-looking lady in her fifties when she asked Chenle how he was doing after noting that it had been quite some time since they had last talked and that it was such a pity that him and her youngest daughter had broken up. Oh, you never imagined him dating before but it made sense to the picture you had of him in your head that he would date a girl in these circles.

"That's fantastic. What are your parents doing for a living?" The lady turned to you, probably expecting that you were the daughter of some big shot businessman to attend a prestigious university like that. These people kept forgetting that scholarship opportunities existed for a reason and not only the rich could get higher education anymore. It baffled you for a bit and Chenle must have sensed your hesitance, so he decided to intervene to lessen the tension.

"Mrs. Lu, I don't think–"

"It's okay," you interrupted him because even if you appreciated the gesture, you were no damsel in distress. And most importantly you weren't ashamed of who you were. "My mother is an employee at a garment company and my father hasn't been around since I was young."

"Oh dear, that must be tough," the lady's face turned sour as if she bit into a lemon and pity was so obvious from her sweetened words that you could practically taste it.

It was that moment again, you thought: it was Jiayun and kindergarten all over again, just unlike kids, this woman didn't point out as straightforwardly that you didn't belong among them, that Chenle shouldn't have mingled with your kind. She just looked at you with those eyes, unsure how to keep the conversation up as if she lost any interest in you just because of your family background. She most probably did. But before you could have thrown hands (or anything) like you did when you had been 4 years old, the boy beside you spoke up:

"I know, right? But she even got into the university without having to bribe anyone!" He threw the random information out there casually and the lady's expression told you the untold side of the story: her family probably needed to pay extra to get their kid(s) into Shanghai Business School. You could have felt wronged because you didn't need to be defended but you knew that Chenle didn't do it for your sake only. He didn't treat you like a damsel in distress, he just wanted to call this woman out on her bullshit for his own entertainment, so you could barely suppress your amused smile when the lady excused herself and you exchanged a knowing glance with the boy.

You two weren't alone for long and you met so many people that you couldn't even remember half of their names. But there were so many fake people, so many shallow conversations, you started to understand what the boy meant by being real was what he mostly cared about. It was a rare thing to find that in these people or at least in this situation where everyone seemed to be counting debts and favours.

"Is it always like this?" you wondered aloud, stealing a glance at the boy beside you.

"Yeah, pretty much."

You hummed, wondering if you could do it in the long term.

"How do you do it?"

"I guess... you just get used to it after a while," he shrugged before flashing you a wide grin. "But at least there's free food."

You cracked up at that. It must have been true that no matter how wealthy one was, free food always tasted the best. Even if the food served at this event was too fancy for you to cease your hunger.

At one point, you had separated from Chenle and had an interesting talk about the education system with someone from the government. While you were away, the boy had found himself company in the person of the pretty, giddy girl you had seen before who waved in your direction with a bright smile.

"Is she your girlfriend?" you mouthed at Chenle quietly while the girl was busy with calling others to the table. The guy followed your gaze and laughed, loud and hard; he shook his head.

"Gosh, no. Come on, I'll introduce you to her, just promise me you won't believe anything she says or I'll regret this," he said and it had you raising eyebrows curiously right away. Oh, so she was that kind of acquaintance who had the most juicy stories. Good to know.

"Why? Does she have more embarrassing stories about you than me seeing you eating sand and snails in the sandpit of kindergarten?" you teased, this time genuinely and well-meaningly only for the sake of entertainment and not to offend. Nor did Chenle when he rolled his eyes.

"I take it back, you're worse," he sighed but you saw the smile in the corner of his mouth.

You spent the rest of the night laughing along with Yizhuo, Minghao and Junhui at some stories about Chenle who wasn't shy to get back at them. It was fun and it had nothing to do with who had how much money, so maybe you were wrong, maybe not everything was about that. Maybe Chenle could exist as an individual entity with his friends regardless of his financial background and he never implied you were less than then, he never pointed out your scholarship or part-time jobs, never made fun of your family issues in front of his usual circle. Whenever he wanted to poke you, he only called you out on your meticulous to-do lists, your nagging personality and tendency to disagree with him.

"Thanks," you blurted out once you were outside of the garden, hovering before leaving for the bus stop.

"For what? For opening a door for you?" Chenle blinked, trying to hide his genuine surprise with a joke. You couldn't blame him, it was most probably the first time you thanked him for anything since before your pride was always getting in the way.

"For not treating me differently," you admitted because it meant a lot to you. Your whole life you had been the one to stand out for the wrong reason. You could attend prestigious school because of your mother's job but you had always been the poor one who didn't share others' interests or lifestyle. You had been treated like dirt, like a pushover but if anything, Chenle had been treating you like an equal, worthy of competing with.

"Whatever," he shrugged, clearly not seeing why this was a big thing for you or he just didn't want to prolong this strangely sensitive moment of yours, so he quickly changed the topic. "I'll take you home,"

"You drank," you pointed out even though you knew he didn't drink much, just for the sake of it to have the last word, as if it was something to win. But this time you didn't take it bloodily seriously and found it amusing when Chenle rolled his eyes.

"Okay, let me rephrase that: let me call my family's driver to take you home before he takes me home," he offered once again, determined as always. It was tempting, the comfort of it, so you made a pondering noise. But the thing was, you didn't like to owe anyone and you weren't sure you were close enough friends to accept favours without returning them, so you didn't want to agree to that. Instead, you made it into a challenge:

"How do you feel about taking the bus?" you raised an eyebrow, teasing him about rich boy privileges with personal drivers and at the end of it somehow you managed to get The Zhong Chenle onto a public bus with you which was half full of not so decent, drunk people whom the boy openly judged with his stare. You will never forget this day.

In Chenle's humble opinion Miss Xu was a bit too happy about the progress of his and your team work after her unconventional task (which she never failed to bring up as a casual conversation starter like: what new did you learn about each other since last time?). Once you confessed that he wasn't as arrogant as you thought nor you were as rigid as he thought, he admitted, preparing for the case study competition seemed like a child's play for the two of you. The two of you challenged each other, could put together a nice list of arguments easily and researched more efficiently together. You stopped treating each other like rivals when you could just work together, so you started having coffee shop and library meetings to work on your homework from Miss Xu but you usually spent half the time with watching puppy videos on Chenle's phone, talking about your friends, the video games he would so beat you in and what you wanted to do after university. Yizhuo liked to remind him that it sounded like you started being friends, which he usually didn't comment on. He couldn't really deny it anyways after he invited you over for a hotpot.

It was a small get-together with a few of his close friends: Yizhuo, Renjun and you. A night with the familiar whine of Renjun's about his movie choice, Yizhuo's laughter at his suffering and you helping him out in the kitchen. You offered your help and while Chenle didn't exactly need it, he let you join him in his very professional kitchen because he had a feeling you just needed an excuse to not be stuck with Yizhuo and Renjun alone. The fact that you were more comfortable around him than around his friends stirred something in the boy's chest but he decided not to acknowledge it for the sake of his sanity.

"You are pretty good at this," you remarked suddenly, in the middle of washing some bok choy.

"At what? I'm pretty good at a lot of things," Chenle boasted with a smirk because he knew an answer like this would annoy you and he indeed laughed at your resigned sigh. He had always found it amusing when you were irritated over small things like this.

"At cooking, I mean," you pointed out the obvious, staring at the nicely cut onion pieces in front of him. It was easy to tell that it was a practiced skill which you couldn't master with years of cooking because your diced onions always looked like chunks.

"Of course, I am. I have lived alone since I was 18 and I don't have a personal chef nor can I live only on delivery food, so I learned it," he shrugged as if it was natural. You didn't think it was. You knew a lot of college students who ate out, had their food delivered or packed lunch boxes from home and they weren't as well off as Chenle. He didn't have to learn cooking but did it anyway and you appreciated it. Plus, guys who could cook were hot… Wait, what?! Forget that.

"Still, it's impressive. Take the compliment like a normal person would," you told him and even though he just laughed, you could see pride swelling in his chest. Maybe a bit of ego boost couldn't hurt from time to time.

Leaning against the kitchen counter, watching him prepare the spicy soup, you couldn't help but wonder though as you imagined him usually cooking for one person only: himself. You were too used to cooking for two with your mom, so you imagine it a bit… lonesome.

"Doesn't it get lonely? Living alone?"

Chenle looked up from the stove with a bit of amused surprise in his usually mischievous or stern brown eyes. He croaked an eyebrow and tilted his head to get a better look at you.

"Hah, you are probably the only one whose first reaction is this instead of claiming how cool it must be to have my own place so young," he said and you weren't too surprised to hear that. Sure, a part of you understood the envy of being independent and being well-off enough to be able to do so but at the same time, living alone required a lot more effort than living at home with all things included. It was a two-sided coin like everything, now you knew better than to judge too fast.

"When it does get lonely, I go and bother someone. Don't worry about me, it's not a good look on you," he added with a teasing edge to his sharp words and with a gentle flick of his fingers against your temple before turning back to the soup with an evident grin on his face. "Go, put the ingredients onto small plates instead!"

You stalled for a moment too long because looking at his smile – that you once thought annoying –, you realized that worry might not be a good look on you but happiness definitely suited him. Here, at his home, he was comfortable, unguarded and happy; and it was nice to see this side of Zhong Chenle, you decided.

"Yes, sir~" you saluted jokingly to keep the atmosphere light and playful instead of the corny and sentimental feelings that were budding inside of you. You took care of the ingredients and with the help of others, who were more familiar at Chenle's place, you set the table right before the chef of the day finished the base soup for the hotpot, ready to put it on the table to keep simmering it over the mini stove.

During dinner you argued about what to put into the hot pot, in what order and for how long, just usual hot pot debates. You laughed a lot and had so much fun that you didn't even mind losing the game of paper, rock, scissors that determined that you would do the dishes. Yizhuo even joined you willingly to dry the plates while the boys set the movie up afterwards on the 4K smart TV in the living room. You weren't sure you wanted to know what exactly went down there but you heard Renjun scream a swear word and Chenle laugh.

"You and Chenle got really close lately, hm?" Yizhuo nudged you on the arm with news-hungry sparkling eyes but... there was no news. It had been a few weeks since you had started spending more time together outside of the schoolroom environment, he had even managed to get you to play PUBG with him and now you were at his but would this be enough for 'really close'?

"I wouldn't call it 'really close' but we are on good terms now, I guess," you shrugged, trying to play it cool. You didn't want the girl to get any other ideas (But based on what? What were you afraid of if there was no reason for her to do so?)

"I mean, I know he isn't that heart-to-heart talk kind of guy. He's more like the kid on the playground who pulls on your pigtails to get your attention," Yizhuo chuckled to herself at the metaphor before leaning against the counter. You could feel her eyes on you but you focused on the pan in the sink instead. "You know he has a hard time letting new people get close to him. You probably noticed but he doesn't care about money, he basically throws it on anyone close to him whom he cares about but when people befriend or date him solely for that, well, that understandably leaves a scar. Even if he doesn't show. He might like to seem invincible but he is just human too."

Based on his experience with fake people at those parties and how important it was for him for others to be themselves you could understand where this came from, you just weren’t sure why Yizhuo was telling you all this.

“Is this a friendly warning to get out of his life if I’m one of those people?” you turned towards her, asking directly because you knew her as a straightforward person, not someone who would honey their opinion about such matters. She seemed like a good, loyal friend, like the type who would pour bleach into the shampoo of girls who broke her best friend's heart.

“Oh, please, we both know you aren’t. Chenle couldn’t shut up about how much you despised him before that party,” she said, crackling, obviously finding it funny. “It might just help you understand why he is like this.”

Like this meant being clingy during movie nights, it meant being whiny when he didn't get enough attention or being the shield between you and the tv screen after he teased the hell out of you for being scared while laughing loudly. But it also meant being caring when he brought your favourite latte from your usual coffee shop as a good luck token for the case competition, being protective when one of the other guys at the scene acted a bit out of line or calling you cute whenever you frowned at something he said. Being friends with Chenle was like him paying for all the fancy cocktails as a celebration after the successful end of the competition and then whining about how you should buy him French fries at McDonalds at 2AM. But being friends with Chenle was also damned butterflies in your stomach when he passed out over your shoulder on a bus loveseat. Fuck.

For someone as direct and unapologetic as Chenle, he was sure hard to read. But knowing how much he hated people who pretended and faked themselves around him, you knew you had to tell him about your realization before you started acting weird. He would have probably just taken it as an ego boost and would have teased you good-heartedly about how you couldn't resist his charms after all before rejecting you kindly. You could take that rejection, you could stay friends once it was out there and you could move on, you told yourself. You were sure Chenle wouldn't have made it weird by acting differently around you just because of your newfound or at least newly realized feelings, he must have had loads of admirers back in high school who brought him sweets on May 20th as a symbol of their crush, so he must have been used to this. Still, you wanted to give him and yourself space, so you could have an excuse to leave without feeling too awkward about it. That's why it was just you two on a 'study date' at a campus café now that the new semester had started.

Chenle tried to get the Stats homework right while slurping on his Americano loudly (gosh, it used to annoy you so much, now you found even this cute, what was wrong with you?) when you blurted out a question that had been bugging you ever since you met at Economics 101.

"You really don't remember me from kindergarten, do you?"

Chenle looked up from his notebook full of his chicken scratch with a questioning expression on his face as if asking 'seriously?' and he had every right to be confused about the reason behind your sudden question. But you didn't back down as you held his gaze.

"I have a shitty memory," he said eventually but it sounded like he weighed his options about what to say. But one thing was sure, he was genuine when he said he didn't remember and it wasn't something you could have held against him a decade later.

"Nah, actually I think it’s normal. It was just me being hyper fixated on you. Don't be cocky! I mean it,” you rolled your eyes when you saw him starting to smirk. You were trying to be serious, come on. “I don't remember most of the other kids either. But I remember you because I hated you."

Hate might have been a strong word for a child though but you sure blamed a lot on Chenle just because you could and your brain justified it even so many years later until you realize how silly it was.

"I had a guess," the boy laughed, clearly finding your enlightenment amusing and probably not understanding what you were trying to say with it.

"No, listen to me. I hated you like a kid hates the world just because she couldn't get her favorite candy. It was unreasonable and unfair to you, I blamed you for everything even though you just caused the ripple in the calm water. You weren't even the one who made me feel shitty about being poor. So I guess I still had this kind of mindset when we met again and it pissed me off even more that you didn't remember, which is once again ridiculous," you told him outright even though you hated admitting that you were wrong and based on his very first written analysis on you, you knew that Chenle knew it as well. Now all his attention was on you and you suddenly felt bashful under his sharp gaze but didn't stop. "And then I hated you even more because it wasn't as easy to hate you as it was in kindergarten."

"So you are saying that you don't actually hate me?" Chenle asked as if he was taking a guess, uncertain, which was so unlike him and maybe he had just as much of a hard time reading you as you had, so you spelled it out for him:

"I'm saying that I think I like you." A beat of pause, a beat of silence then a rushed addition in the usual cacophony of the coffee shop: "And I know it's stupid, we are so not compatible, we're barely frien–"

"Hah," the boy noted quietly, simply to interrupt you and his reaction made you stop on your track. That was it? You looked at him, bewildered.

"What?"

"You beat me to it," Chenle put a hand over his chest, dramatic, as if you scored best on a test instead of him. What a ridiculous reaction.

"It's not a competition," you reminded him, scolding instead of feeling victorious for being faster than him at something.

"Oh, everything is, sweetheart," he smiled at you devilishly and ruffled your hair playfully as if you didn't spend twenty minutes just to make sure it looked nice for once.

You just stared at him, stunned for a moment, before you let his earlier words process and your eyes widened.

“Wait, so… do you like me, too?”

“Whatever, don’t act too surprised. It’s not like I planned these disgustingly cheesy feelings,” he shrugged, looking back down on his Stats textbook before he looked back up with a shiteating grin on his face. "You know, it was a very weak confession though. I'm feeling generous, so I'm giving you a 5 out of 10. You can do better."

"Do better?!" you echoed in disbelief but barely able to stop smiling so hard that it hurt your cheeks. "What about you trying to do it better if you are so smug about it?"

"Oh, it will be a marvelous confession, you will be swept off your feet, you can be sure. Just wait for it," Chenle teased and the promise of it made you all giddy inside. You could barely concentrate on the numbers and calculations for the rest of your time in the store. Chenle with his bright smile, his funny laughter and feet nudging yours under the table was too distractive. Gosh, he was so annoying (fond).

“I’m sorry sir but you are causing a bigger line behind you the longer you take to order. Now may I please know what you’d like? Is it the usual?”

Going to put in his usual iced americano and a scone you hear him speak up.

“Actually! Not today. You know I woke up in the mood of trying something new! Can you tell me the specials please?” He fakes innocence in his tone. Groans come from behind him and you hear the door chiming, already losing customers the more Donghyuck drags on. Losing customers can’t be on your radar especially with a strict manager constantly breathing down your neck.

Telling him the specials quickly you continue to eye the other customers behind him. Angry and frustrated looks were on their faces while Donghyuck still eyed the menu.

“You should really try the season cookie. Christmas is just around the corner wouldn’t want to miss out on the goodies and it comes along with a hot coco.” “Oh I don’t know-“ “But you do know! It’s very chilly out there and who would miss out on some hot coco I mean come on!”

Eyeing you, you restrained yourself from glaring at him. He knew how easily he manages to get under your skin. So much he visits just to continue doing so. “Well it does sound appealing-“ “Good! One seasonal cookie and a hot coco coming up that’ll be $6.50.” Quickly typing it on the screen in front of you, Donghyuck let’s you take his card. “Here’s the receipt, your order should be done in a few minutes, next!”

He would get back to trying to annoy you but when the three girls next to him taps his shoulder to try and regain his attention he simply lets them do just that.

“Oh hello ladies, now where were we?” He smirks again when they giggle fakingly at him.

“Seasonal cookie and hot coco!” After a few minutes he grabs the orders from your hand. “Too bad I couldn’t stay for too long. Would’ve loved to stay and watch your pretty face work endless hours.” He winks at you before walking off. Shooting a devious look to the ladies inside the cafe before leaving.

Rolling your eyes when he was out of sight. 8 in the morning and you already started the day off wrong.

“Egotistical bastard.” You curse underneath your voice. Wiping down the counters that were smudged with coffee stains. The ick in you still stayed because of him. You didn’t know what was up with him. Why he acted that way, not enough attention at home? Is he an only child? Whatever it was it had him thinking too highly of himself. And you didn’t like it one bit.

When the day couldn’t get any worse, pouring rain was happening when trying to catch your bus ride home. Drenched in water you run under the bus stop. Shaking as you try to warm yourself by rubbing your hands down your arms. Not noticing who exactly you sat next to on the seats.

“Aw what happened pretty? Took a shower on you’re way here?” Freezing when you depict the taunting voice to be made out. Ignoring him you continued looking forward. Hearing him sit up, he rests his elbows on his knees. “Why so quiet? Coming down with the flu pretty?” “Stop calling me that.”

“Why?” “Because I don’t like it.” “Why? You don’t see yourself as pretty?” Finally turning your head at him you see the smugness on his expression. Scoffing you shake your head and look forward again. “You know pretty people shouldn’t be getting wet, they need someone with an umbrella….” Hearing an umbrella flap open besides you, a shadow casted upon you. “To save them. If you want you can even call it their Prince Charming coming to rescue them.” He winks at you. Seeing the bus come closer you shake your head.

The people around the bus stop, umbrella in hand got ready to enter the vehicle. “No offense Donghyuck but I don’t need no Prince Charming and especially one who thinks he is. You’re far from it and never ever will reach those standards.” “Ouch.” He responds. The bus parking and opening it’s glass door. One by one the passengers got on. Standing up, he sighs. “Really had wished you would’ve taken my umbrella. Hate it for you to go home catching a cold.” Raising a brow you step on the bus after him when the bus driver puts a hold to you.

“Sorry we’re full, you can catch the next one in 45 minutes?” Shocked, you step out in disbelief. You couldn’t believe it. Through the glass window you see Donghyuck wave at you tauntingly. In his hand he waves his umbrella at you. Blowing you a kiss as the bus drives off.

“Un fucking believable.” Wanting nothing but to just get home you decided in jogging there instead. Yeah it was a forty minute walk but you seriously couldn’t wait forty minutes just for the bus to arrive at that. Gasping when the cold rain hits you again you pick up your pace. Now even more frustrated than ever.

By the passing days. You fought through a cold, the same daredevil now cooing at you. “What’s wrong pretty? Got a cold? Awe poor poor pretty baby.” Ignoring him you turn around and worked on making others drinks. Hoping he’ll simply walk off and flirt with the girls in the cafe like he usually does. “If only you would’ve taken my umbrella…” he gives out a rather loud sigh. Turning back you watch as he picks at his nails and shakes his head. Harshly biting the inside of your cheek you hand him his coffee.

“Iced Americano. Have a nice day sir.” You grit your teeth. Smiling at you he thanks you and stands up. Foolish of you to have thought he would simply walk off. Hearing a whine come from him you cock a brow. “Is anything wrong sir?” “I asked for light ice. This is just one cube of ice too many.” He sets the drink down and pouts. Taking a breath in you bite your bottom lip and nod. “I see let me…remake your drink again.”

“Hello darling.?” An elderly lady speaks. Your attention leaving the annoying brat, putting on a smile you greet the elderly woman. “Hello ma’am, how may I help you?”

“Oh well I just came by to get myself a scone and see if you still had any hot coco left.” She smiles at you. “Yes of course-“ “Actually shouldn’t she also get the seasonal cookie since those two tend to come in a pair?” Donghyuck interrupts you. The elderly eyes the both of you, can detect the tension miles away. A reason why she even entered the cafe in the first place.

“Oh if that’s true then yeah I’d like a seasonal cookie as well.” “Of course ma’am. A scone, seasonal cookie and a hot coco okay.” Watching you work with an amusing look Donghyuck waits for you to finish. Already preparing himself his next misfit to annoy you even more. When getting the order started the elderly woman turns back at him. Furrow his brow at her as he didn’t like her inspecting him.

“May I help you?” He tells her boredly.

“Ahh I’m sorry gentleman. I was just watching how nice you’ve grown up to be. Are you and the cash register together?” Scoffing he fakes a laugh.

“They wish we were. But no, I can never date someone like…them.” He eyes you up judgedly. Hearing him since he wasn’t too far away from you, you grip his order in hand. Wanting nothing more than to dunk the whole drink on him. Maybe then the one to many ice cubes can be ridden.

Nodding, the elderly woman watches your working figure. “Well it’s a shame. Seems like they’d be a good influence to fix that poor wicked ego of yours.” She tells him. Eyes widen he glares at her. “Look lady, the only ego growing here is yours. What just because you’re old you think you can automatically criticize someone?!” Turning around quickly you interrupt Donghyuck’s growing tantrum.

“Ok! Here’s your order ma’am and I’m so sorry for the inconvenience. I just don’t know where these types of customers are coming from I promise we’ll work on that yeah?” Smiling at you dearly she grabs her order. “No worries dear it’s just all part of life. If only there was some sort of miracle that can cleanse the world of ego.” Nodding you turn back to fixing his drink. The elderly woman turns to him one last time. Taking out a kiss chocolate. “We may have had a rough encounter but wishes to you young man.” She smiles at him. Eyeing him one last time as she sets the chocolate by him. Grabbing her order and walking out.

Feeling uncomfortable by her stare. Feeling the chills run down his spine he turns around to no longer see her. Sighing loudly, nails tapping the counter. “Come on pretty I really don’t have all day.” He speaks up. “Here’s your iced americano with light ice. Have a nice day sir.” Wanting to criticize it more he’s put on a hold when he gets a call. Seeing it was his best friend Renjun he decides to just call it a day in the cafe. “See you pretty.” He winks at you, unwrapping the chocolate and tossing it in his mouth. Answering the call he grabs his drink and walks out. Leaving the small rolled up ball of trash on the counter.

From out of the view of the cafe, he throws the iced americano in the trash. Never once was he in the mood for it.

Slamming the door behind you. You huff in exhaustion. Legs ready to give out and plop yourself on the couch. Lately the weather has been wanting rain and currently thunder was heard from outside. The harsh pounds of the rain hitting the window.

You see a few lightning sparks because of the flashing light. Turning the tv on tiredly you watch what was on, not caring if it was interesting or boring you just didn’t want your apartment to be in complete silence. After a while you got up when your stomach wouldn’t stop growling. You waited by the counter as the water boiled. Pack of ramon noodles ready to be made. Yawning as the news come up,

‘Forecast says Seoul should be experiencing high chances of precipitation for the next two weeks. Lots of mist and humidity in the air it’s time to get warm and comfortable, for this storm won’t leave anytime soon.’

Pouring the noodles in the pot, you walk over to your balcony. Glass sliding door the only thing keeping the water from coming in. Another flash of light you see, the wind is heard as it blows by quickly. Thunder louder than yesterday. Glad you managed to get home when it wasn’t as bad.

Turning the channel, you land it on one in which your favorite tv show was playing. Getting the living room situated as you didn’t plan to stand up when setting the noodles down to eat.

A few minutes far from your place, a group of boys were currently versusing each other on the PlayStation. Lots of yells and chants were heard as the competition begins to thicken.

“Donghyuck man help! Jeno and Chenle are absolutely demolishing us!” Jisung calls out to him. Currently on the couch battling a terrible headache he only hums in response. “You okay?” Renjun asks him with worry. “Yeah just have a weak stomach right now. Man this headache is killing me too I think I’m going to lie down for a bit.” Letting him, he walks up the stairs and into his room. A large pang hits him in the pit of his stomach. Crouching as he winced in pain. Taking slow intakes of breathes as he tries to relax.

Walking into the bathroom where he puts cold water on his face. He felt hot, cheeks were pink and forehead above normal temperature. Did he get the flu? Whatever it was, it was kicking his rear end and just wanted it all to go away. Going through cabinets to search for the pain killers but groaning when he can’t find any.

“Hey guys! Where are the-“ gasping when yet another sharp pang hits him, losing balance and falls on the floor. Arm wrapping around his stomach as he feels a few tears run down his stomach. He hasn’t felt this sort of pain since he was 15 and that was because he pulled a muscle on his stomach. But this no this felt even worse. He felt as if his lungs were being squeezed and couldn’t seemed to breathe. Chest tightened and throat went dry. His other arm gripping the carpet in agony. Not a word seemed to leave his mouth, he didn’t know when exactly the pain stopped nor when he passed out. The storm outside kept going and anytime the lightning flashed, his shadow was casted on the wall next to him. When falling completely on the ground in exhaustion from the pain, no movement from him and only the rain drops falling on his window being the only noise in his room. His friends fall clueless downstairs.

With one last lightning flash going off, a shadow appears. Only this time it wasn’t one of a human but of a dog. Just as quickly as it appeared it disappeared when the lightning ray wore out. For the remainder of the night a passed out Hyuck laid on the ground.

The next morning was just as exhausting as the others. Only hoping the week would simply come to an end soon. Even though more people rushed in to order you found it odd when the certain devious daredevil hadn’t shown up yet. Actually liking his absence you were able to finally relax.

The day went on and you found it to be a better day than others. Not the usual annoying voice constantly nagging you from getting anything done, no criticism coming from him or whines because someone hurt his pride. For the first time in a while you managed to put on your genuine smile, making conversation with your coworkers and customers. Happily cleaning the coffee machine that most didn’t like doing. Cleaning up the tables and counters, a true relief for having a day of calmness.

But what was once nice now began to worry you. It was the third day of Donghyuck’s absence. Friday and still no sign of him. Had he finally had enough of teasing you? But you tried not to think much of it. You couldn’t help but listen to the girls who entered the cafe glum to not see him in. “Wonder what happened to him?” One said. “Maybe he found another cafe. We should look around and see.” Rolling your eyes, you felt sorry for them. Not seeing why they were so hung up on searching for the man who only ever saw them as moving tits and ass.

“Yeah we should.” And like that they grab their stuff and go to walk out. “Have a nice day!” You tell them in which they simply ignored you and walked out. Shaking your head you continued cleaning up the place. Only a few hours until you clocked out of work. When arriving to the bus stop after work you look around to see he wasn’t at the bus stop either. No smug looking young man sitting besides you with an umbrella in hand. Getting home you take your shoes off. Raincoat and the other clothing that was attaching itself to you from the rain. Changing into comfortable clothes you turn the tv on. Untying your hair to put it into a bun.

Walking over to the kitchen you hear the voices of the news reporter. “What should I eat?” You tell yourself.

‘21 year old has been reported missing. Been well over three days since his last encounter with anyone, roommates says he was last seen going up to his room and haven’t heard of him since. If anyone has any idea of his presence please dial this number. Lee Donghyuck is his name.’

Slamming the fridge shut, you run over to the living room. Eyes widen you watch as the reporter goes into detail of the same said man you couldn’t stand having around just a few days ago. In shock, you cover your slightly agaped mouth as they give out his information. Picture of him shown, taking a seat. You couldn’t believe what you were seeing.

He couldn’t have gone missing? Donghyuck? He doesn’t seem the type to run away. He couldn’t have been kidnapped no way, he was last seen going to his room? Why would he simply walk away? Many questions run through your head that by the time you snap out, the tv was now showing a television show.

“Wow.” You say in astonishment.

Where has he gone?

Saturday finally came. And while you intended to sleep in the many errands you grew behind in slowly rushed in. Groaning as your body desperately wanted to just simply rest. Dragging yourself out of bed, entering the bathroom and you make a face when seeing your reflection.

Never understanding how one could wake up not looking so…monstrousness. Turning the faucet you begin to brush your teeth tiredly. The shower getting turned on soon after. The beginning of your Saturday and it wouldn’t be you sleeping soundly in a bed.

Out in the cold streets of Seoul, large coat over your hoodie you go through the places you need to finish your errands. From the post office, to appointments needed to have been finished long ago, prescriptions needed to be picked up and groceries needed to be bought. By the end of the day you were walking home absolutely exhausted. The cabs in the streets seemed to all be preoccupied or not tending to anyone. Buses weren’t anywhere near you and you could already feel the rain wanting to kick in again.

Trying to rush to your apartment with the many bags in hand you fail to acknowledge a certain critter following you. Gasping when rain hits your face, now jogging lightly. By the time you arrive to your apartment, the soft droplets were now pouring and now once again you were drenched. Kicking the door open you drop the bags on the ground. Shutting the door you let out a yell of exhaustion. Taking your sweater and coat off. Shoes kicked off to who knows where and you rush to change into warmer clothes. Laying on your bed for a minutes to rest, you furrow your brow when hearing a few noises coming from the kitchen. ‘Could just be the storm messing with you’ closing your eyes, you feel yourself slowly fall asleep.

Until yet another noise is heard. Only this time a loud bang comes from the kitchen. Sitting up quickly, you gulp. Eyeing the bedroom door, opening the closet slowly, you grab the bat you had hiding in there. Turning the knob slowly you take small steps. Hallway dark and the light illuminating the apartment was the one in the kitchen. The noises were getting a bit clearer when approaching the kitchen, bat held up high and with a tight grip. Peeking and seeing no one, you take more steps. Startled when a random figure comes from out the counter. Screeching as you go to hit it, a loud whine comes from what you now see is a rather small dog.

With eyes wide you lower your bat. The brown mixed Maltese dog watches you with the same scared expression you had. Small growls leaving the dog soon after. “Where the hell did you come from?” You whisper, kneeling down. You stretch you hand out, taken aback when the dog tries to bite. “Little rude given you trespassed into my apartment.” You scoff and stand up. Arms at your waist as you eye the dog sitting before you. It’s eyes staring right back at you. Where the hell did you accidentally managed to lock a dog inside with you? Taking a step back when the dog begins to bark. Getting louder and louder as it steps a few steps forward to you.

“Shush!” You try to quiet the dog down. Landlord forbidding anyone in owning any sorts of pets in his apartment. When the dog doesn’t seem to want to quiet down you run a hand through your hair in frustration. “What?! What do you want from me? Food! Is that what you want?!” And while you tried to find ways to keep this dog quiet, from inside the little critter’s head was the 21 year old missing young man.

“Hello?! I’m stuck in a dog’s body!”

He barked in distress. Annoyed that you don’t manage to pick up on what he’s trying to tell you. If he wasn’t so concerned in barking out his frustration then he would’ve realized humans can’t understand dog.

“I need you to help- No I don’t want food! Hear me out! Ugh!”

Wanting to bite your fingers when you pick him up, you drop him just as quickly. Wincing in pain when he manages to get a nip at you. Stopping his antics as he watches you shake your hand from the pain.

“Bad dog!” You tell him. A frown on your face, and while it shouldn’t be giving him of any affect. Donghyuck couldn’t help but whine in guilt.

“Look buddy I don’t know where the hell you came from nor why you followed me if you’re only going to act this way, but this isn’t a joke. I get caught with you here and I’m for the streets just like you.” Watching walk into the kitchen a run your finger through the water.

“So I’ll be considerate enough to send you to the pound.”

“The pound?! Are you insane?!”

Going to pick him up again he makes a run for it around the small apartment. Running around the couch that you try to climb over. Under the table that has you crouching down, into the hallway that causes you to slip slightly for wearing socks. And causing havoc in your room when he managed to paw the door open. “Come here!” You groan as the puppy runs very back under the bed. Planting yourself on the carpet you watch him tiredly. Breathing raggedy as you eye the dog. His small figure self sticking its tongue out as they tried to regain their breath as well.

“No pound!”

…..

The two of you sat on the cold floor in silence. Across from one another as you two just stared at one another. Something about the dog felt off. Eyes looking so life like, kinda creepy really. And you get the sense it’s sharing the same critical thinking as you as to who you are. You were wary of the dog. Tiny but damn right mighty. A slight move from you and it’s eyes turns to stare at whatever limb moved. You sighed and the dog only stood his stance.

You sat up straighter and so did the dog. Furrowing your brow, you tilt your head slightly at him. And as slowly you did, so did they. Quickly tilting your head up, the dog mimicked. Squinting your eyes and leaning your head a bit, the dog replicated your actions. Scoffing, you shake your head. “Creepy.” His heightened senses came in good use for Donghyuck. Growling when he hears your insult and you shut yourself up.

“Alright…” standing up slowly, the Maltese stands as well. “Not going to hurt you little guy…just standing. Getting a cramp here.” Wincing a bit when your leg begins to rush the flow throughout itself. Sighing as the dog stays immobile, you take a few steps to the left. A newspaper on the stool and you pick it up. Unfolding it and laying it on the cold tiled floor. Motioning the newspaper to him, you nod. “Good night.” Retreating yourself back to your room, you close the door and don’t bother ever walking back out until morning.

What a terrible idea.

“A newspaper? They must be joking.” Donghyuck scoffs. Glaring at the floor before him, he huffs in aggravation. Confusion and anger is all he can feel. How is it he got to this point in his life. A dog? At least he should’ve been turned into a Doberman or a Golden Retriever but a Maltese? The world must be one huge joke that he still can’t get the gist of.

Not in the mood to falling asleep just yet, he walks around your small apartment. Judging each and every crevice of the building. Why cream colored walls instead of white? Why three stools if they’re a loner? Why three piece couch, do they need that much room? Hungry, he huffs when trying to find a way up on the counter and into the shelves.

In the bedroom, you were up all night. The urge to get out of bed and check on the Maltese. Especially more when you hear growls, whines and barks from him. Soon following by things falling and stuff dropping on the floor with a bang. You should’ve gotten out of bed and put a stop to it but you didn’t. Too exhausted to yell at a dog, you shut your eyes and forced yourself to sleep.

Donghyuck on the other hand finally managed to get into the jar of cheese puffs after many…many attempts. Stretching his legs after the many falls taken to get the cheese puffs. Burping when he gets half of the jar empty. Walking down the hall and running into the bathroom. He knocks down the trash can, “Oops.” He says it nonchalant and climbs on it. Never once did he think he’d drink out of the bathtub faucet. Obviously not from the toilet, yeah he’s a dog but hasn’t gain the aspects of it. Small licks taken to catch the droplets of the faucet, little legs doing everything in its power to lean him closer and not fall. But luck is never on his side.

A large howl is heard throughout the apartment. Walking out the bathroom was a very damp Donghyuck. Had fallen in the bathtub that was somewhat filled with water. Pooling the floor with water, he shakes himself off. Stains of droplets all over the walls he gets on the couch and brushes himself off. Now understanding why dogs loved it so much. Drying himself faster and it was relaxing he may say also fun. His attention is stolen when he looks over at the shelf next to the tv. Liquor. Oh does he really need some of that liquor.

After knocking other variety of things, he drinks what he managed to leak. It seemed hours into the night before Donghyuck called it a night. Crashing on top of the uncomfortable floor you set the newspaper at and knocked out as soon as he hit the floor.

You were absolutely petrified when leaving the bedroom. Water trailing from the bathroom. Dirty paw prints on the walls. Crumbs of the cheese puffs on the floor. Plates and utensils on the floor broken and scattered. Stools tipped over, paper towels ripped to shreds. Couch stained and wet. The liquor cabinet’s glass door was broken and a few of the glass cups were broken. Liquor bottle tipped over and alcohol pouring onto the floor. And the middle of the entire mess, slept a tired Maltese pup.

Mouth gaped and eyes wide, you step on a pile of crap. Disgusted, you rush over the bathroom to clean yourself up. “Ew!” Turning the knob as the loud rush of water is heard from the living room waking up a hang over Donghyuck. Wincing as the light from the window blinds him. “The heck?” Fur puffed and disheveled, his ears perk at the sound of your groans. A bit dizzy when trying to stand, he lifts his head when seeing you stomp back into the living room. Finger pointing at him, you tell him calmly.

“You’re done.”

“This is absurd! It’s me Donghyuck ! DONGHYUCK. You can’t get rid of me like I’m some chump!”

Trying to get out of your grip, he sees the two of you out on the street. He knows the street. A few blocks away from the coffee shop. He’d assume you’d be going there but when you took a turn that would lead you two to the pound he began to freak. “This is abuse! I want a lawyer for such vile treatment!”

“Stop squirming! It’s best for you to stay there. They’ll care for you.” “Care for me?! IT’S THE POUND YOU FU-“ The pedestrians walking past the two couldn’t help but watch them with curious eyes. Donghyuck couldn’t stop barking and howling. Acting as if you were strangling him to death even though you were only carrying him. When arriving, you could hear the loud barking and meows from the animals barking in the back. Opening the door, you walk in.

“How may I help you?” A man asked from behind the counter. “Oh um, I’m here to drop off a-“ You were quickly cut off when a few guys walked in loudly. Carrying in crates filled with strays that were doing everything they could to get out.

“Get me out of here!” One had whined. Felt weird how Donghyuck could hear them. He always wanted to talk to animals, just never under these certain circumstances. “Run little guy! They’ll kill us all!” Another told him. “I can’t believe I’m back here again.” A white poodle sighs. Donghyuck got chills going up his spine as they are moved to the back of the building. Opening the door as the barks and meows are much more louder and clearer.

“Help!” Is what he hears the most in there. A nightmare it is and he’s not behind bars yet. Donghyuck feels livid. This is it, he’s going to die here for the rest of his life. “I’m sorry about that, you were saying?” “Oh yeah, I’m here to drop of a stray-“ the door leading to the back is slammed open. Both you and Donghyuck watch as a dog is trying to escape. Bolting to the door and scratches it as a man goes to use the catch pole on the poor dog. Horrified by how terrified the dog looked, especially how rough the man was being.

“Stop you’re hurting him!” You try to intervene. “Please stay out of this. We know how to deal with wild dogs.” “He’s not wild! Just scared look how you’re hurting him!” Shoving the catch pole away from him, the dog quickly backs up into a corner. Hyuck sees how hard the black Labrador shakes in fear. The man looks over at the receptionist, reluctantly leaving when he’s told to retreat himself.

“Excuse me, that dog is to be put down today. He managed to escape and now he needs to go back. How may I help you? Were you trying to put that Maltese up?” Watching in worry at the dogs frightened state, you look over at the little dog in your arms. You could see the fear in his eyes, you were horrified by how terribly the animals here are treated. You have to admit you were never educated in what exactly the pound was. Just always assumed the animals there would be somewhat treated at least with food and a bed.

“Hello?” Shaking your head, you turn to him. “Actually no. I Uh, came here because…” “Because?…” sighing, you take another look at Donghyuck. Tilting his head, he wonders what your next decision is. And he just hopes it isn’t you giving him up to the pound. “I’m here to pick up my dog.” You nod. Turning around, and you point at the Black Lab still sitting in the corner. “Him.”

————-

“Could not believe I went to the pound to give a dog up only to come back with an extra one!” Trailing behind you, Donghyuck’s tail wags contently. Turning over at the Labrador walking beside him, head down and hadn’t uttered a word since they left that horrid play.

“Now here I am making my way over to Petsmart and hope my landlord doesn’t kick me out for not just having one dog, not one but two!” A smirk forms on Donghyuck, he chuckles. The three of them making their way inside the store. Growing bored after two minutes of you struggling to pick the right choices for the dogs.

Picking each bottle up in confusion. “Why are there so many brands for one type of food?” You groan in frustration. Trying to read each label carefully but none of the words are processing through your head. Running a hand through your hair, you try to tug away your jeans from Donghyuck’s teeth. “Quit it.” You tell him. But this only had Hyuck continue to do it.

When trying to walk away, you groan when having to drag the small Maltese pup across the floor. “Damn it boy you really are a stubborn brat!” You huff.

“Hello, are you in need of assistance?” A young employee asked you. He seemed to look around your age, the tag on his shirt reading Mark. Nodding quickly, you seem to be ready to break down already. Having such a long morning, with a quick please. Mark smiles at you and motions for you to follow. “Don’t worry I got you.”

Donghyuck couldn’t stop staring at Mark. He’s never seen him around, but it doesn’t take a genius to know when someone’s flirting. Sit and staring at him intently, making jokes to you about him. “Feels like he’s staring into my soul.” Laughing, you nod. “Yeah he kinda just does that I don’t know. Just got him yesterday.” “Oh yeah?” “Yeah- well actually he got me yesterday. Kinda showed up in my apartment out of no where and I tried to give him up but now here I am buying dog products and with an extra.”

Looking over at the Lab, you feel bad seeing how sad he looked. Head was still down and now the dog was lying on the floor. Looking away from them. “Well here are the basic needs for them. I see they don’t have any tags or collars would you consider getting them today?” “Yes please.” Taking you over to the tag machine, Mark shows you all the designs for pet’s. And while Mark continued to joke with you, Hyuck went and laid down besides the Lab.

“So…what’s your name?” But silence. The dog didn’t feel like talking, he kinda wondered if he could even hear him. “I’m Donghyuck.” He tilted his head to get a better look at him to see whether he was awake or not. He was convinced he was going to get no response from him until a small raspy voice spoke up.

“John.”

“So what’s their names?” “Oh uh…I haven’t thought about that yet.” Turning to look at the dogs, you think as to what their names would be. Pointing at the Lab, you look over at Mark. “He looks like a Johnny.”

“Hey! Not too far from your name, what a coincidence huh?” Donghyuck tells him with a airy laugh. His mood is blown though when John only sighs sadly. “And the little one, Haechan.” “Haechan?! You must be joking.” Hyuck scoffs. Looking up at the two humans as they type the names in. “They’re not joking…” After a few minutes, Haechan was now his legal dog name. Brown and white dog bone prints on his collar and the bone shaped tag brightly shining his name. Your name and number on the back.

Johnny got his soon after. Gently putting his collar on, assuring him you weren’t going to hurt him. Petting his head lightly afterwards. “Guess I’ll go check these out.” “I’ll check you out.” As Hyuck waited impatiently for you and Mark to stop flirting, he can’t help but glare at the phone Mark takes out. Phone number of course. “I’ll text you then.” Mark waves you goodbye. “Okay, bye Mark!”

Looking down at the two, “Ready?” “Been ready.” Hyuck scoffs and begins to walk. The long way home was Hyuck leading ahead of the two. Johnny walked slow but never too slow he’d stay behind. Making sure to stay beside you to not cause any trouble. Dropping the bags filled with items on the floor as you were able to sneak the dogs in without anyone seeing. “Go, go quickly.” You ushered them in.

Hyuck struggled a bit to climb the couch but after a few attempts he did. Johnny though stayed at the furthest corner away from the rest. Grabbing the bag filled with food, you take the tape off of the dog bowls. “You guys must be hungry. Well more Johnny than you Haechan. You managed to eat all the cheese puffs I can’t imagine how you can possibly be hungry.” Huffing at you, Hyuck walks over to you.

“Yeah and they tasted like garbage.” Setting the food before him, he feels as if he would gag. “No fucking way.” Moving his head to face away the food. “What? Eat Haechan, I’m sure you can eat anything at this point. And don’t think I didn’t see that half empty liquor bottle, no way it all evaporated from the floor overnight.” While Haechan was busy feeling disgusted over the dog food, you called Johnny over to eat. Standing a few inches away from him, he ate.

“Should be grateful they didn’t leave us back in the pound little one.” Johnny tells him quietly and begins to eat. Looking at him scarf it down, he looks down at him. “…I’m not little. Just miniature size.”

“My god why are we watching this?” Hyuck groans. Growing annoyed by the umpteenth episode of a rom com show. Stretching himself until his hind nails were pressing hard into your skin, you watch him with bored eyes. “Seriously?” “What?” Looking between the two dogs, you see like you, they are a bit lazy. Were you supposed to let them be this way always? Shouldn’t they go for walks? That’s right! Walks. “Alright you two, let’s go for a walk.”

Both heads perk upon hearing the word. “E-Excuse me, you said walk?”

The day was getting a bit chillier. Having to wrap yourself in your jacket, leashes in hand as the two sniffed the place. Well Johnny did, he seemed more happier knowing he wasn’t going anywhere he might feel threatened. So far he was still a bit hesitant in letting anyone in but with the wind blowing meant all the extravagant smells hitting his nostrils.

“You seem to really enjoy walks.” Haechan tells him. “It’s all I did when I was on the streets. You get used to it but I kinda forgot, having been locked up for so long. Really missed smelling all the scents in the world without a care of time.” Hyuck nods. Watching him lift his nose in the air, he decides to follow pursuit. Johnny was right. You could smell all the scents in the world and it felt great. Sniffing the bushes, pavement, the car tiles parked by the side walk. Pieces of candy dropped on the floor, everything. His ear perk up when hearing a group of voices. Ending at a corner where you wanted to cross, Hyuck looks to his left and sees his friends.

“Please, have you seen him?” Jaemin asks to an elderly couple. Sadness in his eyes when he receives yet another no. Renjun’s hair not combed like it usually is. Eyes puffy and tired. Jeno has wrinkled clothes he hasn’t had a chance to iron. Not when he needs to be finding his friend.

“Boys? Boys!” Donghyuck made a run for it but he stops shortly when his leash is tugging him back. “Haechan? Come on let’s get going.” “No! Those are my friends!” Johnny turns to see what he’s referring to. Past owners?

“Haechan-“ Losing grip on the leash, you groan when he makes a run for it. “Haechan! Come back here!” Running after him with Johnny, you see him rushing over to the group of boys. Great. “Excuse me sir, have you seen- what the-“ Looking down, Jeno pushes his glasses back to see the small Maltese dog padding his leg. “Jeno! It’s me Donghyuck!” Feeling slightly out of breath, you begin to apologize. “I’m so sorry, it’s my dog. He’s just a bit, indisciplined.” You say in between breaths. Picking up the leash, Jeno smiles at you warmly. “No worries, cute dog.”

“Damn it Jeno! Stop flirting and look at me!”

Looking down to seeing the dog whine, Jeno leans down and pats his head. Reading the tag, “Haechan. Well aren’t you adorable.” “Missing person?” You ask him. Looking at the pile of papers, your heart stops when seeing it to be Donghyuck’s face. “Yeah…” “Donghyuck.” “You know him?” Jeno stands to face you. Hyuck stops his scratching on Jeno and stares at you.

“He was a regular at the coffee shop I work at, we didn’t have the best interactions. I’m sorry about your friend though.” Nodding, Jeno tries to hold it together. “I’m Y/n. Y/n y/l/n.” “Lee Jeno.” Jeno shakes your hand, bit cold which could mean he’s been out on the streets for quite a while. “Hey Jeno, it’s getting late we better be heading back.” “Jaemin!” Barking at him, Jaemin looks down and furrows his brow. “This your dog?” Nodding, he chuckles. “Cute.” “Oh for heavens sake.” Hyuck grumbles. Hyuck felt disheartened that his friends couldn’t recognize him, worse is how in bad state they were in because of his disappearance. If they looked bad he could only imagine how his family was.

“Well I better get goin-“ “Please take this flyer, you know in case you see him.” “Of course…Hope you find him.” “Us too.” The walk back home, Hyuck didn’t try smelling anything. No tail wagging or talking to Johnny for that matter. Your jeans weren’t appetizing to chew on at the moment. The more the silence went the more Johnny grew curious. When the night came and you decided to go to bed early for work tomorrow, Johnny watched Hyuck silently look out the window of the glass door. Bed right next to him and the large full moon in sight. “You alright little one?” Johnny asked him.

“Mm. I’m okay John.” Still looking out the glass, Johnny recalls back to the missing person flyer. “Are you…human too?” Lifting his head up, Hyuck stares at him with wide eyes. “You’re human?!” Sighing, Johnny rests his head. “Been in this dog’s body for 6 months now.” “6 months…oh god. Does that mean I’ll be in this body for that long? Maybe for the rest of my life.” “What did you do?” “What do you mean? I went home, felt sick and before I knew it. I passed out only to wake up as a dog.”

“I got cursed in this body for being distant.” “Distant?…you didn’t kill anyone and run away right?” Shaking his head, Johnny snorts. “Of course not. I just, I wasn’t there when others needed me. Now I’m destined to live my life without the company of anyone.” “Who cursed you?” “Don’t know. Just know it’s some old woman. She gave me this piece of chocolate and when she found me, she told me what my life would be like for now on.”

“Old woman?…” Hyuck gasps when he remembers the elderly woman he argued with in the coffee shop that day. He remembered eating the chocolate and by the time he got home, it’s when the stomach ache happened. “That witch!” “Have any idea why you’re cursed?” “No idea! I was just living life and now here I am? Can not believe I let an old woman ruin my life. Great!” Moving his head to face away from him, Johnny whispers. “Think I might have an idea what your curse was.” “What?” “Nothing.”

______

“Johnny we have to find that old woman!” “Please Haechan it’s seven in the morning.” Johnny grumbles. Small ray of sunlight warming his black fur, eyes squinting when Haechan pulls back the Draper entirely.

“It’s the only way to bring me back to my human self! Besides you can finally be human too.” “I’ve tried man, she won’t listen.” “Then we make her listen!” “Haechan you’re making a lot of noise, lower your voice-“ “Come on Johnny! Please!”

“Haechan-“ “Please!”

With a groan, you cover your ears with your pillow. The combination of the annoying alarm going off and Haechan’s barking wasn’t making your morning any better. It seemed like Haechan’s barks only got louder and it irritated you more.

With a loud slam on the alarm clock, you sit up. “HAECHAN QUIET”

And he stopped. Johnny quirked his nonexistent eyebrow. “Told ya.” Donghyuck huffs and lays back on his bed. Much smaller in size compared to Johnny’s. The door to your bedroom opens and your loud stomps are heard. Hair a mess and angry blood shot eyes glaring at the small Maltese pup. “How many times do I have to tell you no barking? Anyone finds out you two are living here, and all of us will be without a home!” Walking back to take yourself a shower, Johnny shakes his head and gets up. He makes his way over to his bowl. As he munched on his kibble, Haechan spurred nonsense under his voice.

“Can’t believe I let them boss me around, who do they think they are?” He scoffs. “Our owner?” “Don’t say that Johnny, we are NOT dogs. Just unfortunate people stuck in them.” Sparing a glance over at him, Johnny sees Haechan laying on the floor near him. Not bothering to eat his food or touch his water. Sighing, Johnny walks over to him. “So where do you want to search?” Head perks up, his tail wags in content. “We’ll wait for them to leave, we’ll leave then and try to find locations she might be at.” Nodding, they sat on the couch even when they weren’t allowed on. Seeing you stressfully getting your things together, you give them more food and clean water on the bowl. Grabbing your keys, you bid them goodbye. “No barking.” You want them, a finger pointed at them and a certain look thrown at Haechan.

When the door finally closed, the two waited until they were sure you were far enough. “Okay let’s go!” The way out was a bit more difficult then they thought would be. Everywhere had people walking by, security on guard and cameras on. Any wrong step and they could be caught. “Where Johnny?” Looking at anything that can help them go down the flight of stairs, his eyes focus on a cart of toiletries. Waiting until the janitor wasn’t looking and they bolted. Getting under the covers and on the cart, they were rolled away. Seeing the Janitor entering the elevator. When on the first floor, they wait until the janitor takes them close to their room, close by the exit. And when there, they got off. Quickly running out before anyone saw.

“Okay where did you last speak to her?” Donghyuck asked Johnny. “At the park. I passed out there, it’s where she found me.” Nodding, they headed there. To say the park wasn’t packed would be a lie. Obviously it wasn’t vacant. Too many screaming children and parents not supervising. Food being dropped left and right and other pets on the loose without a leash. “Do you see her?” Donghyuck squints his eyes to scan each and every person and hope the old lady with be one of them. Shaking his head, they decide to leave. “Where did you see the old woman?” Johnny asked him. “Coffee shop, only place I have had my encounter with.” Heading there, they watch as you try to quickly get orders done. A long line forming outside, a bell rung for yet another customer entering the place.

“Wow it’s packed.” Johnny looks down the block where the people waited in line. Must really be great coffee to wait so long. “Yeah it’s always packed.” “You’ve been here before?” Shrugging, Hyuck lays down under the small table right outside the shop. Large window glass giving him the view of the customers and you. “Came here almost everyday.” “So you and Y/n, you two actually talked? Face to face?” “I wouldn’t say talk but yeah. Wonder what they think about my disappearance.” Johnny watches his new profound friend watch you through the glass. His attention on you blocks out the usual girls that would always wait for him there.

Inside, you wiped sweat off of your forehead. Yet again the place was understaffed and now you were stuck taking orders and making drinks. One of Donghyuck’s ‘fans’ was popping their gum, rolling her eyes as she looked at her friend who looked bored. “Can’t believe I ordered a drink thinking Donghyuck would show up.” “Well he is you know ‘missing’.” Her friend tells her. Rolling her eyes, she shakes her head. “Bet he found some chick off the street and ran off with her. Can’t believe I gave him my number.” She scoffs. Her friend shrugs her shoulders, “Well good thing he never called you right?” A gasp comes from her, upon hearing such words from her friend. Holding in a snicker, you call out a customer’s name to signal their finished order.

Today’s weather was a bit warmer than most, unlike yesterday. And while the two were getting used to seeing sets of legs walking by, they see a certain one stop in front of them. Peaking their head from under, they look up and surely there stood the old woman. “YOU!” Haechan barks. “Hello Mr. Lee.” She tells him with a smile. “You did this to me! You had no right!” “Now, now. Let’s not get so feisty…Johnny. I see you’re not so lonely anymore.”

“Hey! Don’t speak to him, this is our business!” “How’s the life of a dog treating you Donghyuck?” “Terrible!-“ Another bark from the small dog under the table do the customers hear. Each giving weird looks to the interaction between the two strays - not so looking stray dogs and the elderly woman.

“Is she speaking to the dog?” One whispers to a friend of theirs. But in the end, they try to ignore it as best as possible. Excusing it by saying it’s what people do when coming of old age.

“Why am I a dog!” “You young adults fail to see the beauty of the world, always cutting it down to something negative. Johnny, you failed to see how big you can grow with the love and support of others. The beauty of companionship and you Donghyuck, Are too egotistical to see that the world doesn’t revolve around you. If I didn’t do anything who knows what consequences would happen to others, it was of my best interest to make that if such consequences would happen it would only pertain to you.” “What do you mean! Speak clearly woman.”

“If you fail to show a change in yourself in a year, you’ll stay a dog forever. That also includes you Johnny. Six months can fly by quite quickly.”

Going to walk away, Hyuck went to follow. “Come back here!” But no matter how fast on her tail he was, she was much faster for an older woman. Losing her in the crowd, he stops in the middle. “Come on little one, it’s not worth it.” Johnny walks up behind him. Feeling worried of only having a year left, Hyuck doesn’t give his friend trouble. Walking back to the chair, they decide to wait under it until your shift ended. And when the night fell, the two still laid there with solemn faces. Haven’t ate an ounce of anything. With a exasperated sigh, you bid your goodbyes and leave the coffee shop. Busy Monday was finally checked off and as you looked either side of you. You catch sight of the two under the table.

“Johnny? Haechan?” Head slightly perking up, you walk over and kneel. “What on earth are you two doing here?” You say, a slight smile on your tired face at the thought that they followed you to work. But for how long were they here? “Have you two eaten anything?” You gasp when you noticed they could’ve gone the whole day not eating. Looking behind you, across the street was a Chinese buffet. “Want Chinese?” And the once gloomy moods overtaking both boy’s bodies were replaced.

You three sat outside eating the food with satisfaction. The two sharing a tray of teriyaki chicken, smiling down at them as they peacefully shared with no conflict. Setting down a cup of water for them, they drink it this time. Downing it in seconds you chuckle, “You two must’ve been in the heat for quite some time. Can’t believe you guys actually waited for me.” Pouring them some more, Hyuck let’s Johnny eat the rest of the food. Walking over to you, he rests his front paws on your leg. Lifting him onto your lap, he watches you finish your food. He just stared. Why? Who knows, but he found it peaceful in doing so. He was finally able to notice the dark circles under eyes. Just how drowsy you looked and the tension building in your shoulders, dying for a massage. He thought back to the old woman’s words,

‘If I didn’t do anything who knows what consequences would happen to others, it was of my best interest to make, that if such consequences would happen it would only pertain to you’

Was she referring to you? Has he been making your stress worse by constantly making your job a lot harder? Smiling at him softly, you rub his head while you finish the last bit of your food. Putting him down, you go to throw the trays away. You would take the bus but the strict no pets policy prevent that from happening. But you at least felt calm knowing you had company the walk home. Shushing them when arriving to the apartment complex, sneaking them in you wondered how they even managed to leave on the first place.

That you came to find out when you saw your door slightly agaped. Walking in and the counter nearest to the door had the stuff on it knocked down. Trying to get to the doorknob in order to open it. The flour fallen on the counter and small doggy paws on it. Looking down at the delinquent Haechan sits with his tail wagging, head tilted as he gives you puppy eyes. “Oops?” Sighing, you go to close the door when you notice a note on the door. An Eviction Notice. You heart freezes in its spot as you read the red printed paper. The two watch you silently. “What’s going on?” Hyuck asks confusedly. Johnny didn’t say anything but by the look of distraught on your face and the bold black letters saying Eviction Notice he knew they wouldn’t be staying here much longer.

Closing the door behind you, you slid down and cover your face in your arms. Crumbling the paper in hand as you feel the frustration get the best of you. Hyuck hears a few sniffles come from you, he felt glued in his spot and contemplated what he should do. Troubled by not knowing how to comfort people. Johnny had already been by your side, and he could only watch. When you had gone up and left the scrunch up ball on the floor, he watched you enter your room. Looking at the paper he takes the next few minutes trying to undo it.

“What are you doing Haechan?” “Trying to read this note-“ a few teeth indents in the paper but he managed to flatten the paper. He feels terrible when he reads the word ‘eviction’ and ‘dogs’ on it. The excessive barking and violation of following apartment complex policy, you’d have approximately a week to move out. “What have I done?” For the remainder of the night, Hyuck hadn’t left his spot near the hallway. Facing your room, your bedroom door was open but no light emitted in there. Utter silence. Your slight sniffs had already muted after sometime. He waited for some sort of sound but nothing. The guilt was eating him from inside out, he couldn’t believe just how much he was making things difficult for you when you’ve been nothing but nice. And now, you were suffering because of him. Exactly how the old woman has told him. Getting up after a while, he walked over to your room. Using your chair to get on, he laid besides you. Closing his eyes to sleep, he jolts a bit when you wrap the blanket over him. It felt nice. He liked it, even though he’d never admit it out loud. And that’s how the night went, he finally got a good nights sleep.

For the next few days only brought you more stress and worry. Looking through apartments willing to take you and the dogs in but to no avail. Johnny’s noticed just how much closer Hyuck attached himself to you. Anytime you began to run your temples he was by your side in an instant. When you began to fidget he let you use his fur to run your hands through. Someone to hug, he’d let you coddle him. When fallen asleep in a pile of paper work, Johnny gave the Maltese a look. “What?” “You like them.” Scoffing, Hyuck shakes himself off before getting off the bed. “I do not.” The Labrador follows suit and snorts. “You so do, you became this lap dog for them. Never in your life would you ever do that.” “Well how would you know?” “Because you never acted that way. What happened to the whole ‘Who do they think they are?’ “I don’t know what you want me Johnny.”

Walking over to his bowl, he drinks his water. Phone rings and you wake up alarmed. The piles of papers flying in the air as you try to find the phone with fatigue. Yawning, you answer without looking at the caller. “Hello?” Not paying much mind to who could have called, Johnny and Hyuck stay in the kitchen. “Oh! Mark hi!” The licking stops, drops of water splatters on the ground as Hyuck halts in the mention of Mark. “Oh no yeah, I’m not busy…Today?…sure yeah…7 sounds good…okay bye.” Rushing out of the kitchen, Hyuck watches you get up and walk over to your room. “Yo where are you going creep! Trying to spy on her changing?” Johnny teases him. Huffing, Hyuck glares at him. Following you, he climbs on your bed that soon turned to be his as well.

Watching you pick out an outfit had him feeling sour. “What do you think?” You show Haechan one of the few outfits you owned. A special one you had put away. He didn’t say much but then again what did you expect. Going to shower, Johnny walks in to seeing him huffing for the umpteenth time. “Tell me you don’t feel anything for them again?” Rolling his eyes, he faces away from him. It doesn’t last long though for as soon as Johnny lays on the bed he stands up aggravated. “They’re going on a date! A date Johnny! We have to stop it or follow! Yes follow!” “Why?” “Don’t ask why, and as my friend you should just comply.” “Comply? I’m older than you.” Sighing, Johnny finds it amusing seeing the littler dog pace around the bed. When an hour almost goes by, you had finally got out the bathroom.

Hyuck’s pacing stops when he sees you. Taking a seat at the edge of the bed, he watches you finish getting ready. Humming a soft tune as you fix your head once again, you find it adorable seeing him watching intently with the cutest eyes and dilated pupils. “Do I look nice?” Tail immediately wags, forcing himself to eat up all the compliments he wanted to bark at you. A chuckle and you look at your phone, Mark was on his way. As the time ticked you began to pace. “What if it goes wrong? Terrible? What if I’m not significant other material?” A small snort from Johnny that you picked up and you playfully glare at him. “Not funny Johnny.” You pout and take a seat.

Picking up Haechan as soon as he was in arms reach, and you coddled him. Head nuzzling in your chest as your scent hits him, eye locking with Johnny as he gives him a look. Ignoring him, he looks up at you. “I never been on a date before.” You sigh. Pecking Haechan on the head, you hear the door bell ring. Hyuck’s barking took you off guard. Running to the door in which you and Johnny follow suit. Opening the door, there stood a nervous looking Mark. “Hi Mark.” You smile at him nervously. “Hi y/n.” Eye contact is broken when a bark is heard. Looking down, Mark squat down to Haechan’s level. “Oh hi little guy.” Going to let him but Haechan decides to nip him. “Haechan!” You scold him. Lowering his head, Johnny walks over to his friend and picks him off the group with his snout.

“Yeah definitely don’t have a crush on them.” “Shut up.”

“I’m so sorry, usually he’s playful but never aggressive.” “It’s okay, maybe just doesn’t like strangers.” “Still, might need to hire a trainer or something.” You nervously chuckle, walking him over to the sink. Letting water pour on his finger, the proximity a lot closer now. “Thank you.” He tells you softly. Nodding, you open the drawer and give him a bandaid you have in the kitchen just in case. “Shall we get going?” Nodding, you grab your stuff. Taking one last look at the boys, and you point at them. Giving them a look of sternness one of a mother would give to their child to not do anything stupid. Once the door closed, the two who sat frozenly as the two humans left was disrupted.

Jumping off the couch, Haechan’s little claws are heard on the wooden floor. “Come on we have to follow them!” If there’s one thing Johnny has learned from the younger boy is how persistent he is. No matter how much he just wanted to relax, he got off the couch and followed him out of the apartment room. They ended up by an Italian restaurant, where you and Mark were currently having their first date. Across the street, these two furry friends watched them converse. A scoff from Hyuck as he sees you laugh at something your date had said. “Can’t believe he took them here. It’s not even their favorite place.”

“Oh yeah? So what is it?” “They love the Korean BBQ restaurant two blocks from here.” “And how do you know that?” “Because they told me.” “I don’t remember them saying that.” Shaking his head, Haechan lays down on the concrete. “Not now. Back when we were in High School. We went there a few times.” “You and Y/n are friends?”

A scowl on his furry face when he sees Mark lean over. Rubbing off the bit of sauce on your face, a small blush on your cheeks at the action. “We were.” “What happened?” Donghyuck didn’t answer. His mind came up blank upon that question but soon the memories rolled in. Not wanting to think about it, he did what he’s always done. Ignore it. “I don’t know.”

Walking down the side walk of the park, you and Mark came across a soft silence. It didn’t feel awkward and for that you felt grateful. Sun had set and now the street lights were on. You two have seemed to run out of words to say, soft smiles thrown at each other when meeting one’s eyes. It isn’t until you run into a light pole with Donghyuck’s missing flyer hanged on it does the silence end. “I’ve seen his flyer everywhere. Poor guy hope he’s doing okay.” Mark says. Nodding, you grab the flyer. You never had the actual opportunity to look at it, always preferred to remember his face by your memories and not one of a missing person flyer. “Did you know him?” He must’ve noticed your small frown the more you looked at his picture. With a nod, you turn to him.

“Knew him since high school.”

“Come on Johnny! Can’t believe I stopped to let you take a leak!” Haechan’s little legs strived hard to get close to you. Stopping by a tree, he sees you holding a flyer. “We had a fall out sometime after we graduated. But I still saw him regularly, just not in the best encounters.” He heard you. You must’ve been speaking about him. Posting the flyer back up the pole, he gulps when he sees his picture. “Who knows if I’ll ever see him again.” By the time the date was close to over, the two ran fast home. Getting honked at for crossing the streets, avoiding little hands from children who tried to pet them or the door man who tried blocking their way inside. When you arrived they sat a few feet away from the door waiting for your arrival. “Hi boys.” You smile at them warmly. Dropping your things on the empty table, and leaned to pet their heads.

“Really needed this date today. Probably the last times I’ll be happy.” You sigh. Looking around, the small apartment was now filled inside of boxes. No decor as now there were plain cream walls. When the night came and you said your goodnight’s, Hyuck couldn’t sleep. The guilt eating him, he must do something to help you out. He can’t let you sleep on the streets because of him. And as the apartment slept, he stayed up thinking of ways to help you. By the time the sun began to come out, he thought of the perfect idea.

He waited for you to leave. When you did, he scavenged through the piles of paper. “What are you looking for?” “The eviction notice. Help me find it Johnny.” It took a while but when found, he told Johnny to stay. “I’ll be back promise.” “Where are you going now?” “To fix the mess I caused.” Getting to the end of the block, the route to your work was to the left. One he’s grown used to taking for years now, but in this case he didn’t. Instead he took a right turn. Where his home was located at. He feels a sense of nostalgia when his home comes in view. He didn’t hear much chatter inside, then again everyone doesn’t sleep until 3 in the morning so makes sense they would still be asleep. Walking up to the porch he begins to scratch at the door.

It’s currently eight in the morning, Jaemin must be up. And he continues to scratch. He whines and barks in hopes someone will open the door. He gets impatient when nothing happens. Looking up he sees the doorbell, his climbing skills had gotten better for all the many attempts of sneaking out of the apartment room. Jumping on Renjun’s pot plant, he rings the bell. Pressing it many times until someone came to the door. And like he expected, Jaemin opened it. Having bed hair, eyes droopy, sweats and an oversized shirt. He squints his eyes as the brightness outside blinded him. Looking down, he sees the Maltese dog. Furrowing his brow, he squats. “Hey I’ve seen you before…” Absolutely confused as to why a dog appeared at his front porch, he notices the crinkled sheet of paper in his mouth. Grabbing it, he’s opened it to seeing the bold letters saying Eviction Notice. Reading it, at the end has your name. “Y/n y/l/n? Hey I remember you now.” Picking him up, Jaemin runs his head.

“Are you lost? Or are you trying to find a new home?” Hyuck didn’t seem to care of such offer. Maybe a month ago when he was desperately trying to leave but now, you were his concern. Taking him inside, he lets him roam around. Hyuck noticed nothing has changed only the atmosphere. Everything seemed so gloomy. While Jaemin kept reading at the paper, Hyuck used this opportunity to walk up the stairs. His room the furthest away came to view and he made his over there. Door slightly opened, he walked in. He missed his room, everything went untouched. “Y/n could stay here.” That was his plan.

“You’re crazy Jaemin.” Jeno told him. “Yeah we don’t even know them” Renjun buts in. “But they know Hyuck.” “From work. They weren’t even friends.” Currently in Chenle’s lap, Hyuck slightly growls. He didn’t like the false statement given by Jeno. Then again they didn’t even know who you were and the friendship you two once had. “They can help us find him.” “How?”

“They live here, while in return help us find Donghyuck.” “So where do you propose they stay?” “…In his room.” “You’ve gone mad.” The group of boys couldn’t seem to come to an agreement which Hyuck notices just how far fetched his idea was. Maybe he didn’t think it all through.

“And if he returns? Do we kick them out or what?” “We can make some sort of agreement. They save enough for a new place while we find him.” The room went quiet and it only made Donghyuck nervous. What if they said no? For sure you’d end up on the street. Eyes looked at one another, no words said yet in the end it seemed like they all came up with the same answer. “Okay.”

The day went normal until it went bizarre. Not many customers came in which was unusual. Then the elderly woman entered, saying how your days were going without the constant nagging of Donghyuck. “You know…I kinda miss him. Yeah he has his annoying moments but, I really do miss him.” “Give him time, he’ll find his way home.” It wasn’t much with what she said that was odd just the mood she set. Then Jeno and Jaemin arrived. At first they ordered and it wasn’t until they were going to leave that they dropped the bomb shell on you.

“Would you like to live with us?” Eyes widen you stare at them as if one had lost a head. “Uh…come again?” It seemed forever to really register what they had to say but what was the cherry on top, is you agreeing to move in. Tomorrow would be the last day of your stay and by some miracle (or pup), you got yourself a new home for the time being. They helped you move out, and while one by one Donghyuck’s friends carried out boxes Johnny looked at Haechan. “Was this your plan?” Nodding, he looks back at his friends conversing with you. “My room is empty. Might as well put it to good use.” The move in was somewhat awkward. You didn’t really know them but was glad they seemed to have been welcoming. Entering Hyuck’s room you felt weird being in there. Wrong. Looking around, you see the pictures of him and his friends. A few with his family and a smile on your face appears. Sitting on the edge of his bed, you look around his room. He a neat boy, like how you remembered him being.

Getting on the bed, Johnny makes himself at home. Hyuck walks over to you, letting you set him on your lap. “I don’t think I should be here Haechan.” You felt skeptical of the whole ordeal, Hyuck was already getting ready to find a way to make you stay. While he looked back at Johnny for help, you sat him down. Watching you get closer to his gaming desk, he wonders what you’re looking at. Then he remembers what was sitting on top of it. “Is this me?” Picking up the frame, it was of you and Donghyuck in the eleventh grade. He had given you a piggy back ride, a grin on your face and on Donghyuck’s face too. It’s been years since the eleventh grade and yet the memories felt fresh in mind. Walking back to the bed, you lay down staring at it. The two immediately by your side. For the first time since the news, you managed to cry a year for Donghyuck’s disappearance.

Your ‘hatred’ for him had washed away and you now grieved for his absence. Licking your face, Haechan tried to wipe away your tears. For a while it’s all you could do, cry. And when you cried yourself to sleep, Hyuck was too sadden to even move. Now Johnny was left to console the both of you. No matter how confusing the situation between the two were, he never pushed to figure it out. He just listened when someone needed his ears.

“I liked them.” Donghyuck’s soft voice says. “But I liked popularity more.” Turning his head slightly to watch you sleep, he feels his heart squeeze once more. Tears stains on your cheeks. “I always wanted them to feel the same, but when they finally did I pushed them away. Told them, they weren’t good enough.” Johnny didn’t know how to respond, he didn’t judge the boy. He didn’t criticize him, or shame him. Instead he rested his large head on top of his as he watched the two of you sleep. Many made mistakes, he knows that. He’s always hoped he would some day turn human again, but seeing how hurt Hyuck was, now he could just pray the two of you could mend the broken friendship you two once had.

By the next morning, you still felt a tad awkward. You were glad how welcoming the guys were, Renjun knocked on your door, inviting you for breakfast. Chenle made some funny & unfunny jokes. Mark clumsily spilled some orange juice on you in which Jaemin helped clean. And Jisung much like you, shyly smiled and chuckled to one another. The two doggy friends watched from a distance. Hyuck watched Jeno insist to you he’d like to feed them. “You sure? I don’t want to bug you.” “No! No really my pleasure.” Setting the water and food bowls down, he went to pet them. Hyuck as a joke wanted to nip his hand but was given a low growl from Johnny. “Don’t ruin it Haechan.” With a huff, he agrees and lets Jeno pet him. “Cute pup.” “I’m not a pup.” He’d mutter, Johnny to preoccupied in eating. For the days continuing, Hyuck could only smile gladly how well things were settling. You bonded well with everyone. You and Renjun loved cleaning. You games with Jeno and Chenle a lot. Kept Jaemin company when he cooked food. And while Jisung was still shy, you managed to get him to open up more. Now more comfortable to go to you with whatever was troubling him. A younger brother you always wanted.

And while things were going great, Hyuck still hated how sad you were the minute the door to his room was closed with you inside. It’s why you were always out, always avoided it as much as you can. He kept whining each time you began to slip a tear, you didn’t want the boys to see you in such a mess so you tried crying when Haechan wasn’t around. That didn’t work because he was attached to your hip, and in nights when you cried yourself to sleep you kept him outside with his bed so that he wouldn’t whine. “Little one what are you doing outside?” Johnny would say with a yawn, lately he loves spending his nights in Jisung’s room mainly because the boy keeps a lot of snacks in there. Jisung could never say no to Johnny, not with those pretty brown eyes. Having been scratching your door for the past ten minutes with whines to get you to open the door but to no avail, the door stayed close. “They keep locking me out, I need to be in there! Johnny help me.” Continue to scratch the door, Johnny sighs. Taking a seat and soon the door opens to Jeno’s room opens.

“Haechan? What’s wrong little guy?” “Okay why does everyone keeps calling me little?! I just stopped growing at a smaller body size!” A yawn escapes Jeno as he walks over to your door. Going to open it he hears faint sniffing coming from inside. You were crying he noticed. He didn’t know much about what you and Hyuck had, but he does know to not intrude and demand an explanation. “You know what? How about you come to sleep in my room for the night yeah?” “No! Demand it Jeno! Open the door!” “Give them space Haechan, it’s best if they figure their emotions out.” Huffing, he had no other choice but to let Jeno take him away. Another door opens, a faint tired voice speaks out. “Johnny.” Jisung calls for him, rubbing his eyes as he woke up with the other side of his bed empty. Walking inside his room, Jisung closes his door. “There you are boy.” At this point claiming Johnny as his. In Jeno’s room, Hyuck was placed on the boy’s bed, Jeno was about to return to his game but he froze when seeing Haechan stare up at him. “You have freakishly human looking eyes.” He tells him.

Deciding to end the game, he turns his devices off and gets in bed with Haechan tucked in too. “You seem super loyal to them.” He whispers to him. Careful to not wake any one up. Staying still and choosing to just simply listen, Hyuck settles down and listen. “I’ve noticed how sad they’ve been lately but I feel like I might be crossing the line if I ask. I also see how they never want to be in their room, I don’t know. Maybe they find it weird to be in there, I still don’t like the idea of them taking his room for the time being. Feels like we’ve replaced our best friend.” Closing his eyes as Jeno begins to pet him softly. “I miss him, the game matches aren’t the same with out him. House isn’t as loud as they used to be, and even if the aegyo annoyed the hell out of me, I miss his. I wonder where he is, why did he leave? Was it us? I guess I may never know, and that thought alone frightens me.” Turning off his lights, Hyuck tries to stay put. Not being able to see, he uses his hearing to depict whether his best friend was asleep or not.

Lifting his head when he heard the even breathing. He sighs sadly, “I’m sorry I wasn’t the best of friends you deserved to have.” Getting back under the blankets, Hyuck decides to call it a night. The alarm went off, that’s how he spent the morning off. A groan comes from Haechan as he tries to bury himself under the pillows. Getting out of bed, Jeno turns it off and tiredly goes to take a shower. ‘Work right.’ Hyuck thinks. As he hears the shower head turn on he tries to go back to sleep, but he hears your door open. Perking his head up, he climbs down with a thud. Barking to be let out, he hears you knock. “Hello? Jeno? Oh Haechan!” Running out the door happily. He makes circles around you. Even when you can’t make sense of him, it’s obvious he’s happy to see you and wants to check up on you.

“I’m okay Haechannie.” Picking him up, you two walk over to the kitchen, prepping his breakfast where the maknae’s were already eating. “Morning!” Smiling at them, you greeted them as well. “Since the older fellas are going to work today, and it’s your day off, you can come and take a walk with us at the park.” Chenle asks you. “Okay yeah sure.”

The walk ended up taking longer than expected. Instead the group plus the dogs took the entire day out for themselves. Going shopping, eating and conversing about god knows what. For the first time since moving in, Hyuck has finally seen a legitimate smile on your face. His tail always wagged each time he saw you with a smile, at one point it kept wagging in Johnny’s face he had to get up and move on the other side of you. “Hi Johnny, are you bored?” You cooed at him, currently watching Chenle and Jisung bicker about what movie they wanted to watch when getting home. Inside a candy store where you happened to be in front of the chocolate section, your favorites not in sight.

Haechan scowls when Johnny is given head rubs. Johnny felt the jealousy practically radiating off of the Maltese but he chooses to ignore it and relish the comfort of your hand. Hearing him scoff, “Whatever I can get those too anytime I want.” Johnny opens an eye and sees him continuing to stare. “Jealous?” “Jealous?!” Another scoff from him and he stands from his sitting position. “Think you’ve been eating too much kibble.” “So when will it be time for you to admit your feelings for them?” “Stop talking nonsense Johnny it’s not good for you.” “Whatever you say,” The head rubbing stopped as you went to another aisle and look for other candy to purchase. Going to follow, he notices Haechan still looking at the chocolate section.

“You ready to pay?” Chenle asked you. You weren’t going to buy much, only a few in your hand and you nodded. “Alright, I still need to check if they have my sour patch kids, you can get in line before it gets longer.” The store was pretty packed, only two cashiers so it took a while. When it was your turn, you had set your items on the counter. “Found everything you were looking for?” The cashier asked you kindly, he looked pretty stress by having to deal with many customers. “Yeah, although I couldn’t find a box of my favorite chocolates-“ A bark interrupts you causing you to look down, you see Haechan with a box of chocolates in his mouth. Preferably the ones you wanted. Gasping, you grab them from him in bewilderment. “How the…” Setting them on the counter you smile at the cashier happily.

“Never mind, my dog found them.” He chuckles as he looks over the counter and seeing Haechan wag his tail happily. His attention dead set on you. “Cute dog.” You laugh and nod, “Pretty smart too.” You smile down at him and Johnny sees Hyuck visibly shake in content. As you pay for your items, Haechan turns his head over at his friend. “What?” “No crush you say?” “Oh shut up Johnny.” Getting up to walk over to Jisung as he was the first to finish paying, he waited outside with him. The entire plan of today was to go to the park and now that it was currently 5 in the afternoon, the five of you were finally there. Thankfully not many people were there as the sun was already setting. Hyuck and Johnny were currently wrestling which you three found amusing.

It wasn’t intended to stay there until 7 when the sun was down and street lights were beginning to turn on but it was finally time to start heading over to the car. “I’ll put the stuff in the trunk.” Jisung said, “I’ll follow!” Chenle said as he didn’t really like being outside in the dark for too long. Shaking his head, Jisung let’s him follow. “I’ll be there in a second let me tie my shoes.” Nodding, the boys plus Johnny go to the car. Haechan deciding to stay with you, he waits patiently as you tie your shoe laces. ‘Bunny ears, cute.’ He thinks. You haven’t changed much since he last spoke to you properly and not with bickers.

“Can’t believe you still do bunny ears.” Hyuck playfully scoffs at you. “Hey! It’s the only way I know how to tie my shoes!” You laugh as you tie the knot. “See? It’s easy and effective.” Hyuck rolls his eyes as a sheepish grin is present on his face. It was the third time today he had to stop and wait for you to tie your shoes that kept untying.

He’d think it would be the last time until fifteen minutes later you once again stopped to tie your shoes. Stopping you before going to crouch, he does it himself. Pulling at the laces tightly as he ties them quickly and neatly. While doing so, he notices your tongue a bit crooked so he fixes that too. Wiping away the bit of dirt on them, he stands up. “Done.” He smiles at you, failing to notice the blush that slightly creeped its way on your face. Why must you like your best friend?

You finished tying the laces and as you went to pick up your bag you heard rustling behind you. Looking over and seeing Haechan to the side whose attention was on you simply. Furrowing your brow, you turn back but don’t see anything. Not thinking much of it, you stand up with your things, closing your purse as you speak to Haechan. “Ready?” A bark from him and he’s on his feet. His posture changes immediately when the rustling is heard and a lot closer. Growling lowly as to who it could be as he too couldn’t make out the thing behind the noise. Feeling a bit freaked, you begin to take steps away from the large bush near you. “Come on Haechan.” You tell him sternly, walking away quickly. You don’t dare to look back, you began to hear footsteps which only frightened you more and then your arms were tugged.

Yelping, you gasp when a man is getting a hold on you. “Let me go!” You yell. Haechan begins to bark as the man is trying to strip your purse away from you. “Don’t make a sound.” He threatens you, feeling the blade of his knife come with your skin. Shaking in his grasp as his eyes glare into yours. Hyuck continued to bark louder and louder, running over to bite his leg to let go of you. He winces and looks down at the Maltese. “You dumb dog!” He went to kick him but you pushed him back which resulted in him tugging on your hair. Tears begin to fall down your face as he presses the blade further into your skin. Hyuck wasn’t giving up still and as the barks got louder in the (was) quiet park, it ended up gaining the attention of Chenle, Jisung and Johnny.

“Please don’t hurt me!” You plead the man, “Give me your purse!” “Ok! ok!” Going to give it to him, the man doesn’t notice Johnny running over to him. A loud cry comes from him as the hand wrapped around your throat is bitten. Loud growls are heard as he shakes his head aggressively to make the bite force stronger. Getting away from his grip, Chenle and Jisung quickly pull you to them. “Call the police Jisung!” The houses lights near by are beginning to turn on as they get ready to come out. “Are you alright!” One shouts from a distance as they jog over to help. The man currently tackled by Johnny is desperately trying to free himself from him.

Shoving him off, he stands up. Everyone gasps when they see him about to pull a gun. More and more neighbors come out to help, trying to distract him. Advising him to put down the gun. “All I wanted was the purse! Either she hands me it or someone will get hurt!” Hands up in the air as they continue to speak to him. “No need to get violent okay? Just put down the gun.” And for a bit it seemed to be working, but the anger in his eyes should’ve been enough proof to show he wasn’t done making terrible decisions. His eyes were more specifically set on you most of the time. He was angered at failing to steal from you and from this, he now wishes to act his anger upon you. Still on the ground and shaking in Chenle’s arms. You seem to be frozen in your spot wanting nothing more but to simply be in the comfort of your (Donghyuck’s) room.Jisung had already called the police and were currently on their way. There was a silence for a moment, getting the neighbors to think he was about to put down the gun.

“Alright, I will.” As he goes to put it down, he quickly angles it towards you. A chorus of no’s are heard and gasps as they run over to him. Johnny goes to tackle him again but the sound of a gunshot is heard. The man is tackled on the floor, pinned to the ground as the gun is kicked away from his grasp. “Hold him down!” They shout. Looking over at where the shot was fired, they see that you were fine. Everyone was except for your right-hand boy. “Haechan!” Blood was beginning to spill from his abdomen in which the shot was fired into. Jumping in to take the shot, his breathing was lagged. Lying on the grass as he finds it hard to stay awake. Small whines come from him, “No, no Haechan look at me baby.” Brushing away the small fur from his face as his eyes looked distant. “Please Chenle we have to take him to a vet.” You beg him, the sounds of sirens are heard from the distance.

“You guys go, we can handle it from here.” A man who helped tackle him says. Johnny runs over and nudges his head at him. “Come on little one, you can fight through. You’re strong I know that much.” He tries not to panic, finding it hard to keep his cool as Haechan is unresponsive. Only priority is to keep breathing as much as he can. “It hurts.” He whispers softly. Blinking slowly as he’s picked up, a blanket is wrapped around him and is put into Chenle’s car. By now the rest of the guys were called about the situation. The drive there, Haechan was in your arms. He couldn’t focus on much but he could make out your voice. He can practically feel your emotions emitting off you and he wishes he can stand up and lick your tears away but he was feeling tired. Getting rushed inside as they took him away from you, you pulled Johnny close to you as you tried to stay calm.

You don’t know how long he’s been inside getting checked. But you do know it took long that the police officers showed up to get you to answer some questions. Outside, the guys had showed up as well, Jaemin walking over to you, handing you his sweater. “Can you recall what happened that lead the events tonight?” Nodding you spoke, eyes constantly looking back in case the vet walked out with some news of him. But while you were being interrogated, Haechan was getting surgery. Bullet was shot deep inside it caused some internal damage. He lost too much blood and doctor was afraid that he wouldn’t make the night. They managed to stop the bleeding and take the bullet out but as soon as he was bandaged they wanted you to get called in.

“Ms. Y/l/n?” You heard the vet call for you, looking back at the officer, “Would that be all?” “For the moment yes, we will have you called in to the police department to release a statement but for now we will call it a night.” Nodding, you rush inside. “Right in here.” Following, Johnny is having to be stopped by Jeno as he barks to get inside. “Let me in!” By how strong he was, Jisung had to come and help keep him put. “Unfortunately we don’t have the greatest news. The bullet gazed too deep, it did some internal damages, we got the wound to stop bleeding and the bullet out but we believe he might not make the night.” You began to cry as you walk over to Haechan. He wasn’t responsive as the sedative still hadn’t weared off. “We could try everything we can to save him but it may not be enough or we have another way, euthanizing him. Whatever the choice may be, we wanted you to come and see him before it was too late. We’ll give you some time with him alone.”

Closing the door behind them, you break down in sobs. Petting his head as your sniffles are heard throughout the small room. “I’m so sorry Haechannie, you shouldn’t have gotten hurt. I failed to protect you.” While you spoke to him, Hyuck heard you. Yet he couldn’t see you. It was pitch black, he couldn’t move, just heard. “I’m just bad luck.” He wanted to tell you that wasn’t true. He wanted to comfort you and tell you what you’re saying is nonsense but he was just immobile.

“I don’t want to let you go, I can’t.” He felt a tear fall on his fur. He knows it was yours which motivated him to push himself to wake up. He needed to get off of the drugs given to him. “You can’t leave me Haechan, not like this.” Pulling him into your arms, you kiss his head softly. “No matter how stubborn and bratty you could be, you were the best dog I could have ever had.” His nose twitched but that wasn’t enough for him. His eyes needed to him, tail needed to wag and he needed to cover you in sloppy kisses to prove to you he wasn’t going anywhere. “My best friend.” ‘Come on Hyuck!’ He shouts at himself. With all this fighting he began to grow even more tired. Feeling super weak, he just feels sad. Afraid and overall exhausted.

“I’m so sorry I let you down y/n.” A small tear falls down on Hyuck’s face. The tick from the clock just indicated the time going by, time coming closer to his passing. The weather got gloomier, as the boys waited outside and Johnny watched the door intently ready to see you or Haechan come out any time. The windows were being covered in water droplets. And soon thunder was heard following by lightening. You could hear the sound the rain did on the window. Getting louder and harder the more rain it fell. “I’m sorry I couldn’t do more for you.” You kiss his head. You didn’t need to make a decision for him, as you knew that choice was ripped from you the moment that bullet was fired. Haechan felt one last head rub being given from you. Sighing contently as he finally got his head rub. Sleep was consuming him slowly and he tried desperately to calm himself down. Only listening to the beating of your heart and voice.

“I love you…” He says one final time before letting himself get consumed by sleep. “I love you.” You hug your best friend tighter. The door is opened and it doesn’t take long for them to know Haechan didn’t make it. “I’m sorry.” It was exceptionally difficult to walk out and have sets of eyes waiting for any news of him. Shaking your head, they get up to pull you in a group hug. The waiting room is filled with your sobs, as you desperately try to calm yourself down. “I’m sorry.” Jaemin tries to console you. Rocking you softly, the ride home was silence. Johnny hadn’t move since he seated himself in the car. He too mourning for his best friend. Caught up in his thoughts, once again pushing away his emotions. He thought he’s gotten pretty good at it yet now that he tries to swallow down the lump in his throat he finds it impossible to do so.

The car engine is turned off, they tried to help you get out and walk you to the house. Not wanting to let you out of their sight. Going to get Johnny out, the door is knocked into them as Johnny runs off. “Johnny!” They shout, going to turn around. Jaemin quickly pushed you forward. “What’s going on?” “Don’t worry, the boys can handle it.” “Jaemin.” “Johnny ran off but it’s nothing they can’t handle, come on you need to sit.” “What?! He’s run off! I have to go after him-“ “Y/n please you’re hurting, just let me take care of you, the boys are already chasing him down the street.”

Your worries only spreads. You couldn’t focus on anything no more, the loss of Haechan and now the running of Johnny had you in a frenzy. Running your hand through your hair, you simple couldn’t calm yourself. The night kept going and the storm continued on. Johnny didn’t know where he was going just that he needed to be away as far as possible. Yeah it wasn’t fair to you, but he just felt as if he couldn’t think. He wanted to cry, scream and break anything in sight. He heard the boys yell his name but he paid no mind just continued on running. His black shiny fur was soaked by the time he found a dry spot. Panting as he finally let his tears out. Letting the rain combine itself with his tears. He should’ve done more. He kept telling himself that. If only he hadn’t stopped tackling the man, Haechan would still be alive. Then again that was his destiny all along, to stay forever alone. Was he a fool to think his best friend would always stick around.

He doesn’t know whether he’d ever come back. He can’t see himself doing that, it hurts to know he’s only making your grieving worse he can’t seem to force himself to be in an environment where the memory of Hyuck still lingers. Getting shoo’ed by the restaurant manager he was by, he took the rest of his night walking down the wet muddy streets.

You didn’t come into work the next day. The entire house was quiet. The solemn look on their faces when they came home to tell you they couldn’t bring Johnny back broke you. Spending most of your morning in your room, they didn’t bother to get you out of bed or to tell you breakfast was ready. They knew you needed your space and so they did just that. They didn’t notice how lonely the house once was when there weren’t any pets. Now playing with their food, they glance over at the empty food bowls that had Haechan’s and Johnny’s name printed on them. No one dared to talk as they for once had nothing to discuss. Only the clanking of the plates were heard. Jeno checked the time and noticed it was closer to making your way down the police station. “I’ll be taking y/n to the station.” Nodding, they watch him drop his dishes in the sink and go to his room to dress up.

Having to make your way over, involved passing the same park that had you going to the station in the first place. Head down as you refused to look at the spot in which you will forever haunt you. Driving by various of shops and stores, you guys drive by alleys as well. A very dirty and trashy one in particular. With a groan, the figure wakes up with a massive headache. Vision blurred for a bit as their sight comes in view. Smell was horrendous and feeling soreness all over them. Getting up tiredly, they wince as they grip their stomach. Looking down, there was nothing. No scar or bruises. Then they notice their arms, and legs…their fingers and abs. Gasping they sit up and look over at a small puddle that the rain made overnight. Eyes widen as they take in the sight.

“I’m human!”

“See that wasn’t so bad.” Jeno tries to lighten up the mood. Parked in front of a McDonald’s, where he hands you your order. Just left the station half an hour ago where you thought you spent an eternity in there. Sighing, you take a sip from your drink. “All those questions exhausted me.” You two sat on the car eating, the eye bags and puffiness were proof that you didn’t get much sleep last night. With a sad smile, Jeno started up the car and drove you two home.

“I’m sorry for everything you’re going through. Wish I can say more…” “Not your fault. Shit happens and no one can predict it.” Looking at him, he glances at you when he can before his attention is back on the road. “Life sucks.” He chuckles and nods. “That, you are correct.” Driving into the parking space, you two get out and head inside. You heard voices speaking which in contrast to the silence from the morning. Walking into the living room, you freeze when you see everyone gathered to hug one individual in particular.

“Donghyuck?” You gasp. Turning around, he smiles at you softly. “Hey…missed me?” Jeno catches up to you, confused as to why you were frozen in your spot until his eyes meet his friend. “Hyuck!” Running over to him where he pulls him in a tight hug. A few of the guys behind them were wiping tears at the return of their absent friend. “Where the hell have you been?! Were you lost? Kidnapped? Are you okay?” Nodding to all of them, he pulls away from the hug. “I’m okay guys, I am. I just, gosh it’s complicated to explain.” As the boys kept questioning him and his well being his eyes were still on you. Deciding to just let the group of friends be, you retreat yourself to your room, well now old room. Hyuck wanted talk to you, he wanted to hold you and tell you the truth of where’s he’s been at all along. It felt like forever until the group settled down, one by one they asked him about his whereabouts. They couldn’t believe he was staying with a stranger. “A woman?” It was even more confusing how he kept telling him he found it hard to go home and didn’t have much access. “I just got comfortable at some point and now I’m here.” “So you were held captive.” “Not exactly…”

The boys watched him in wonder. Jisung leans over to Jeno in concern, “You think he got Stockholm Syndrome?” He whispered not so loudly. Rolling his eyes, Hyuck stands up. “Well if I must, I’m going to excuse myself.” Making his way back to his old room, he knocks softly. Door slightly agaped and he sees you inside, packing a suitcase. “Don’t know if you heard but, I’ve been camping in your room for some time. Deal was, soon as you came back. I’d leave so, I should be out in a few hours. Will come back for the rest of my-“ Taking the shirts away from you, he sets them on the bed. Closing the door behind him, “Don’t go.” “What?” “I said don’t go.” Eyeing him up, “You’ve changed…usually you would’ve said some snob comment and snapped your fingers at me-“

Walking over to you, he cuts you off by kissing you. It’s something never in a million years would you have expected that. All the emotions you held, the tears you thought had already shed for him only reappeared once more. Hyuck felt a tear fall on him, yours. He also felt you pull him in closer. Pushing him back you shake your head. “Y/n-“ “Don’t.” Turning around to continue packing, he gets a hold of your hand. “Donghyuck let go.” “No, please I need to talk to you.” “What? Are you going to sass me or say something incredibly rude? Oh I know! You’re going to say I can never be considered as your type and not good enough for you right? Or are you going to blame me for ruining our friendship-“

“No! No! If anything I want to apologize to you. I know I’m many years late, I know I fucked up and for that I’m ready to not ever be forgiven but you have to know that as much of a prick I was I do love you.” “Love me? Did you love me the day you humiliated me or threw my feelings in the bin like a piece of trash?” More tears began to slip past your sockets and so as him. “Besides why does it matter anyway? It’s been years, I thought you’d want to ask why I was even staying in your room”

“You were evicted.” “They were quick to tell you-“ “No I knew all along.” “Oh yeah were you spying on me the entire time you disappeared- disappeared…” A loud smack is heard from down the hallway. A loud yelp from Hyuck is heard in the living room. “OW! What was that for?” Rubbing the red spot inflicted by you, you glare at him. “How can you run away like that! You had everyone so worried! You had me worried!” “Really?” Preferring to stay quiet, you turn away from him. “Doesn’t matter, I don’t matter to you.”

“Please don’t say that.” “It’s true.” Slamming the suitcase shut before you get to put anymore clothes, you sigh and look up at Hyuck. “You want to know where I was this entire time?” Nodding your head softly, he holds your face. “I was always by your side.” “Huh?” “You couldn’t really recognize me with all of the fur, but at least you gave me a name. Haechan.” Backing away from him, you stay confused. “How…” Scoffing, you look away, hands on your hips as you begin to laugh. “This must be a joke, you know I just lost him yesterday and to THINK you can stoop so low and make a complete joke out of it!” Shaking his head, he walks closer to you. “I’m not joking y/n, the old lady at the cafe gave me this chocolate piece of candy. I ate it and felt sick, I passed out and woke up as this Maltese dog. I didn’t know where I was until I found you walking home so I followed.”

“Okay you need to go to the hospital and get yourself checked.” “Y/n I’m not lying!” “And I’m not buying it!” Huffing, he ruffled his hair stressfully. “Johnny’s human too! He too got cursed by the old woman but for a different reason.” “Different reason?” “Yes, I got casted because of how egotistical I can be which I truly apologize really, Johnny became a dog because he kept pushing people away and always wanting to be left alone. His punishment is to feel lonely while as a dog and learn what it feels like to have company and appreciate the beauty of it.”

“Hyuck please, just please. I can’t, I’m going through enough. I lost both of them Hyuck. Both! If this is your way of lightening up the situation your just sick-“ “We followed you to your work! It was getting late and we went to a Chinese restaurant. You sat me on your lap and afterwards walked back home because the buses didn’t accept pets on board. If I was lying I wouldn’t have said something you never once told anyone right? And Mark, you went on a date with him which um…well uh I kinda followed, you know just to make sure he wouldn’t try to do things you weren’t comfortable doing.”

His eyes averted between you and the floor. Rubbing his arms nervously as he waited for a response. The more the room went silent the more his nervousness grew. “Please say something.” He almost whispers it. Standing up, you wrap your arms around him. “Your a real pain in the ass you know that?” You mumble in his neck. Wrapping his arms around your torso, he nods. Holding you tightly not wanting you to pull away too soon. “I know, I’m trying to not overdo it.” You snort and agree. Leaning his head against you, he wipes your tear. “I’m sorry I made you cry, I know I’ve been making your life a living hell. Forever will carry that guilt.” “You defended me last night.” He nodded, pecking your nose softly as he pulls back.

Holding your hand, he motions for you to sit on the bed with him. “Well yeah, I may have been small but I tried with what I could. Wish I could’ve done more.” “Hyuck you died for me, you did enough for me.” “Well technically I didn’t die since I’m still here and breathing but-“ Groaning, you lay your head on his shoulder. “See!” “What?” “Making remarks like that just makes me want to tug your hair.” “What?! Why? I’m just saying I can’t die if I’m still alive and well??” Laying back on his bed, you two laugh and look up at the ceiling. “Please forgive me y/n. I know what I said earlier, but I really do mean what I said. I love you.”

Gulping, you nod. “I uh, still have things I need to sort out. I mean how can I be sure this isn’t you messing with my feelings again-“ “Then let me prove it. Let me take you on a date.” “First day back as a human and already trying to date your once owner?” “Don’t word it like that!” Laughing, you nod. Pecking his cheek as he shuts himself up and blushes. “Don’t think I forgive you yet. What you did still hurts like hell, you’re not off the hook yet.” “And so I’ll wait until the day you’re ready.”

“I’m really glad you’re back.” You whisper to him. Tilting his head, he smiles warmly at you. “Me too.”

THREE MONTH LATER

“You know you guys can still back out and just continue living with us?” Jeno tries to convince you guys. Chuckling, you two shake your heads. Dropping the many boxes on the floor to your guys empty apartment. “Thanks, but no thanks.”

The pass three months Haechan has been determined to gain your trust back. Taking you on dates, lowering his snarky comments, becoming more aware of your feelings. He’s just become the old friend you once knew, that including your feelings for him. Now that, that is still scary to admit. For now, you two have decided to live together as roommates. Nothing more, nothing less…(for now).

And now, here you guys were moving everything in. The boys tiredly sat on the floor as they wiped sweat off their foreheads. “What do you guys carry in these boxes?” Renjun blows the piece of hair off of his forehead. “Clothes?” You say to them. “Too many clothes.” Chenle huffs as he lays flat on the cold floor. The apartment had three rooms total, a spare that you guys didn’t know what to use it for. There’s been a few bickering moments where you wanted it to be a guest bedroom, and Hyuck wanted it as a gaming room. When the boys left, you still looked around the place in awe. It wasn’t the best but knowing you had your own home left you feeling content.

“I want it to be a guest bedroom Haechan.” You tell him again. Haechan had now been Hyuck’s official nickname, the name will forever hold special meaning and even if you’ve been calling him that for a month now he still smiles at the mention of it. Pulling you to sit down next to him, he sighs. “Okay, fine. But! I need to make sure our guest is someone we feel absolutely comfortable with and not some stranger that is living with us just to sleep in.” “So you want another roommate?” “Only then will I accept.” “Ok!”

Making the flyers and spreading it on social media didn’t take long. Living in a city where it was a bit too pricey to be living in, people have been coming in a lot. It seemed like the interviews were dragging on and on. Almost felt unsure whether you and Haechan would actually find the perfect roommate. “Well that’s the last of them for today.” He sighs and goes to close the door. Raising a brow when the door is stopped, he looks down and sees a foot. Opening the door he sees a tall man stand in the door way. “Can I help you?”

“I’m here for the extra room offer?” He smiles at him. Haechan felt a chill run up his spine as he looks him in the eyes. Way to familiar eyes. “Sorry we are done for the day.” “Aw man, that’s a shame.” “Yeah…” Shaking your head, you notice how awkward it had gotten. Getting up and walking over to him, you slightly push Haechan aside. “We can fit in one more, what’s your name?”