ᢉ𐭩

“Did you bring the sweater?”

Jake holds up a large white paper bag and pulls out the fabric, pushing the decorative detail in your direction. “Boom. You’ll win the ugly sweater competition, no doubt.”

“It’s not a contest.” You take the bag from him and Jake beams at you with that boyish smile he has when he gets excited about something. You feel a bit soft that he’s excited for you. “But thank you for letting me borrow it.” 

Heeseung grabs the sweater and holds it up in front of him. “This…is something else. Why do you have it in the first place?”

“It’s got a disco dance floor with breakdancing gingerbread men,” Jake deadpans. “It’s snowing inside the club. Why wouldn’t I buy it?”

Jay laughs. “He saw it at a thrift store last Christmas and bought it on a whim. I don’t think he’s worn it, so it’s good that you’re taking it off his hands.”

“I still want it back even if I have nowhere to wear it to.” 

You bump Jake’s hip. “You could always wear it to run errands.” 

He makes a face. “I’m not that crazy.” 

Heeseung folds the sweater and puts it back in the bag before handing it off to you for safekeeping when all four of you walk deeper into the bar. It’s cold outside. It’s the kind of weather that has you layered up in a scarf and a large peacoat that shields you from the chilly bite of the air. Summer has long passed and spring isn’t for another few months, and the joy you feel from the temperature dropping echoes within the warm bar you find yourself in. The juxtaposition of snowy air met with a warm furnace feels comforting in all of the right ways.

You offer to get a table and hum in appreciation with Jay and Jake volunteer to split the first round. They know your order on a weekday evening—whiskey sour—because you don’t like to go overboard when you have to wake up early the next morning. Heeseung slides into the booth beside you and nudges your shoulder.

“Are you still interested in the Marketing Lead position? I heard Kang Eunji’s transferring to the Tokyo office and that the company is looking to hire internally.”

“Now how would you know that, Lee Heeseung?” He shrugs with an uptick to the corner of his mouth.

“I have my ways.”

“Did you, by any chance, flirt with our floor’s secretary to get this information?” 

Heeseung’s cheeks reddens. “It’s not my fault that she’s into me, okay?! I’ve turned her down plenty of times because I don’t do workplace relationships, but I’ll make an exception if that means helping my best friend get promoted.”

“Poor girl. She probably thinks you’re stringing her along.” Heeseung rolls his eyes.

“I’m doing nothing of that sort. I just smiled at her, complimented her dress, and asked if the rumors about Eunji leaving were true.” 

“You walk through life getting everything you want handed to you, huh?” Heeseung smiles innocently but the two of you end up sharing a laugh. 

“I’m serious, though. I don’t know how much I can help since everybody in the office knows we’re close. They’ll definitely think I bias you over other candidates.”

“Don’t you?” 

“Well yeah, but let’s consider there are a few other people whose words matter more than mine.” 

“That is awfully nice of you. I’m a little concerned that you might have something up your sleeve but I appreciate you.” 

He laughs. “Don’t worry. I’ll make sure you have a good Christmas.” The boyish smile he wears makes you feel tender but you push against him anyway.

“You’re a little scary when you’re nice to me.” 

“What? I can’t be nice to the girl who spilled hot coffee down my shirt the first time we met?”

You mumble. “I’m clumsy.”

“Are we talking about you being an absolute klutz?” Jay puts your drink in front of you. “If so, do you remember the time we were playing tennis in my backyard and you tripped over grass?”

“Okay, okay! I get it. I have terrible coordination and fine motor skills.” You hide your smile behind the glass and thank them for the drink before Jake speaks up.

“You’ll have to send me a picture of you in the sweater. I want to put it up in my fridge, or something. What’s it for anyway?”

“The company Heeseung and I work at hosts spirit month every holiday season,” you explain. “Every Friday is casual dress day, but starting in the first week of November, there’s a holiday theme and I think it’s fun to dress up.”

“I’m surprised at how many people do it,” Heeseung chimes in.

“I’m sure we can find one day that works for you.”

“I’ll only consider dressing up if you can make it look tasteful.”

“Please just dress up once,” you beg. “You can wait until it gets close to Christmas. Besides, you’d look good in some of the categories.”

“What are the themes?” Jay asks.

“Next week is Winter Wonderland and the week after that is Red Day. I’m pretty sure there’s a Pajama Day somewhere.”

“Well, I might show up to the office in sweats.”

“That’s the spirit!”

“I wish my job did something fun.” Jake pouts behind his beer. “I’m in a lab all day so even if I wore something festive, it’s covered by a white coat.”

Jay laughs. “You act like being able to wear a white coat is a bad thing.”

“It is when you can’t see break dancing gingerbread men.”  

“Have you guys started Christmas shopping?” Heeseung stares at the drink in his hand as if a lightbulb hangs over his head. “All this holiday talk made me realize I haven’t started thinking about what to get my friends and family. I have absolutely no idea what to get you guys.”

“You could get me a free week at your client’s fancy hotel.” Heeseung looks at Jay and deadpans, whereas the younger boy laughs.

“I’d get myself a weekend vacation before I give it to you.” He sighs. “It would be fun if all four of us could go on a vacation away from Seoul, though. No worries, no work, and no responsibilities.”

“The lab’s slowing down and I’ve made a list of people I need to give gifts to.” Jake pulls his phone out and shows everybody the note on his phone, aptly titled ‘CHRISTMAS PRESENTS FOR THE HOMIES.’ You try to see what he’s put beside your name but he pulls his phone away faster than you can read.

Jay looks at you. “I’ll bet you've been prepared since summer.”

“I’m only put together when it comes to the holidays, Jay.”

“Does that mean you have most of your gifts wrapped?” 

You nod proudly. “You know me too well.”

“I want to know what you got me.” 

“Nope, no guessing.”

“I don’t think you can beat last year’s gift for him,” Jake snickers. “Poor Jay almost had a heart attack when you were able to get his guitar signed by Hisashi Tonomura since you worked with him for a campaign.” 

“That was tricky because I didn’t know how to ask for your guitar without tipping you off.”

“I knew you wanting to learn how to play was a bullshit excuse,” Jay says with a laugh. “But looking back at it now, that really was a great gift.” 

Heeseung raises his eyebrows at you suggestively. “Are you getting anything for your cute next door neighbor?” You aren’t tipsy by any means, but the mere mention of the hot guy who lives across the hall from your apartment makes your cheeks feel warm. The guys laugh when you look away from them and you hear their laughter ringing in your ears as you try to maintain your shyness.

“No, Heeseung. It would be weird of me to get a gift for someone I barely know.”

“Maybe you should!” Jake nudges your knee with the tip of his shoe. “You guys could fall in love for all anybody knows.” 

You smile weakly. “I’m too scared to talk to him. He’s so…hot.” 

Jay snorts. “So you tell us.” 

Your neighbor, who you and the guys have dubbed ‘The Stranger,’ moved into your building nearly a year ago. In that time, you haven’t mustered up the courage to say anything to him. You keep it at awkward eye contact when you see him leaving or arriving at the same time and begin daydreaming the minute you lock your door behind you. His dark hair, striking brown eyes, and pouty lips is enough to make him the subject of your waking thoughts. 

Your friends seem to overestimate your confidence and encourage you to talk to The Stranger, but your resolve crumbles every time you make eye contact with him. Surely a man like that belongs only in fairy tale books or those cliché romance novels middle-aged women seem to like so much. He’s always impeccably dressed with fitted clothing and a clean face that never seems to have blemishes. He must be well off because you recognize name brands adorning his chiseled body.

His demeanor intimidates you too. The Stranger always stands with his chin parallel to the floor and walks with his shoulder held back as if invisible books were stacked on top of his head. The way he carries himself makes you think he’s confident and it intimidates you because you’re anything but. The Stranger is always polite, acknowledging you if he happens to see you around your shared hallway, but he remains aloof with barely a glance before disappearing. He is every bit tall, dark, and handsome, and you’re a little too unsure of yourself to ever make the first move. 

Heeseung, your closest friend since you moved to Seoul, always tells you there’s nothing to fear and that rejection isn’t the end of the world. You try to take his advice but Heeseung is the type of person who never has never had to worry about rejection because people are lining up the doors for him. He’s got a charming personality that almost certainly helped secure his promotion at the company you two work. He’s also got enough charisma and good looks to hook women in. Heeseung doesn’t have to lift a finger to get anybody to pay attention to him. Besides, you’d rather live in this yearning stage of your life than face the awkwardness of seeing him after he rejects you. 

(“If he rejects you,” you hear Heeseung’s voice say in the back of your mind.)

It’s the same for Jay and Jake, too. They’re both incredibly handsome and know their way around people, even if they’re a bit shy at times. Jake especially, who has a clear accent in the way he speaks, can easily make friends with anybody at the mere mention of the way he speaks. Jay attracts people left and right because of his chiseled jawline and the fact that he’s musically gifted, and people stay because he’s incredibly compassionate and attentive.

You love your friends because they’re wonderful people who always seem to know how you’re feeling and what you’re thinking before you can tell them. But you’re a little bit envious that the world seems to work out for them without doing too much. You find that your experiences have the opposite outcome and you’ve had your fair share of rejection stories across every aspect of your life. All of your insecurities have been with you from childhood until now, and trying to be the bigger person is becoming harder every single day. It’s probably what keeps you from doing anything but approach the attractive man that lives across from you. The Stranger is simply somebody too beautiful and you aren’t sure if you’re worthy enough to be somebody he can look at. 

“He’s hot and single.” Heeseung puts his hand on his chin. “Doesn’t seem like a problem to me.” 

“We don’t know that he’s single.”

“I wish I knew what he looked like.” Jake pouts at his beer. “Who doesn’t have an Instagram or social media?” 

“You’re one to talk. You barely post on Instagram and every picture you have is outdated. I’m pretty sure the only person who cares enough is Jay.” 

The aforementioned speaks next. “Has he ever brought girls home before?” 

You shrug. “I don’t think so?” 

“There you have it. He’s single, hot, and you should make a move on him! You never know what’ll happen.” 

“Can we drop it?” you ask, starting to feel a bit restless where you sit. “It’ll happen if it’s meant to happen.” Jake sits back and tries to hide his sulk, although you know he only wants the best for you so you try not to feel annoyed. 

“Are any of you going home for the holidays?” Jay asks to break the silence. 

“Probably not,” Heeseung replies. “My family wanted to go somewhere tropical and spending time in the heat doesn’t sound too good to me. I’ll probably see them when they get back and make a weekend out of it.” 

“Same here.” Jake finishes off the rest of his beer. “My brother’s coming from Brisbane and my parents are spending it back home, but we agreed to meet up next year since they visited Seoul a few months back. You?”

“Staying here because my extended family will be here for a week or so. I’ve got some family obligations but they told me to take it easy now that I’m living on my own.” 

“Sounds like you guys will be bothering each other even more now, huh?”

Jay laughs. “Yeah, I guess so. What about you? Are you going back home this year?” 

You look down at your hands. “I don’t know yet. My mom keeps asking if she should expect me to come home but I’ve put off making that decision for a long time. It’s just hard, you know? After dealing with my dad and everything that went down a few years ago…I don’t know if I’m ready to go back.” 

Her voice lingers in the back of your head the more you think about it. You don’t talk to her often and leave phone calls with her around two to three times a week. She sends you Instagram reels she thinks are funny and you do your best to laugh at them too. But the reality is that talking to her about the holidays reminds you of everything you’re running away from. 

It’s been four years since you moved for a fresh start after university. Seoul used to be so big and enticing compared to the small fishing town you hail from. The streets smell like delicious savory and sweet goods instead of the raw stench of live bait and wet creatures. The lights that illuminate the night sky due to the gargantuan billboards make you feel like this city never truly sleeps because the next adventure is at arm’s length. It’s what you’ve craved for so long and now that you have it, going back to your neighborhood is starting to make you feel guilty for achieving one of your dreams and leaving everything behind. 

Your friends seem to know what’s running through your head. You’ve been this way every winter since they met you. Heeseung gently nudges your arm with his elbow to pull you out of your thoughts. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, okay? We’ll be here for you.”

“I know. I just feel guilty for not going back home since I moved. It’s a two hour train ride but I can’t bring myself to buy the ticket. It’s so hard to be in a place that brings you bad memories.”

“We’ll keep you company this Christmas,” Jake promises. “We aren’t going anywhere so there’s no reason for you to be alone.” 

“Thanks, guys. I’m sorry that I brought the mood down.” 

“What else is drinking at bars for if not to lament about the sad shit?” Jake smiles when that pulls a laugh out of you. 

“Yeah, you’re right. But if I’m hungover at work tomorrow, it’s your fault.”

***

Despite a difficult conversation that sparked haunting nostalgic memories to resurface at once, you managed to keep your drinking to a minimum and stopped yourself after a single cocktail. Heeseung dropped you off and promised to be back to carpool to work tomorrow, and the last thing you thought about before sleeping was The Stranger. 

Your under eye bags aren’t as groggy as they are when you’d drink the night away, but they still feel heavy underneath you. Moisturizer and concealer can only do so much to get rid of the dark circles on your face so you make do and send a silent prayer that you’ll look decent for the entire day. Jake’s ugly sweater hangs perfectly against your dresser and you do your best to style around the atrocious design, but it makes you smile to see such a ridiculous piece of clothing on your body. It reminds you that the holidays are beginning and you try to think about all of the festivities in the area instead of the looming doom of going back to your hometown during this time of year. You take a quick picture of yourself and send it in the group chat, thanking Jake for the impeccably horrible sweater. Once your work bag is packed, Heeseung tells you he’s parked outside of your apartment building. 

You step outside and lock your door only to be greeted by The Stranger.

He blinks when he takes note of the dancing gingerbread men and cocks his head trying to make sense of him. The Stranger, on the other hand, is wearing a fitted longsleeve shirt that nearly molds around the muscles of his arm and baggy pants that somehow make him seem taller than you recall. His hands are adorned with silver jewelry and his shoes look like they might be as expensive as your monthly rent. You’re starting to feel the juxtaposition of your outfit compared to his when he looks at you and the design of the fabric feels heavy on your shoulders.

“That is an ugly sweater.” The Stranger widens his eyes and the tips of his ears turn a shade of pink when his words finally register. “I just mean that your sweater is…interesting.” 

You can’t help but laugh. “It’s alright. This sweater is really ugly.” 

“Any particular reason as to why you’re wearing it, then?” 

“Today’s a holiday spirit day at work,” you explain to him. “Every Friday has a different theme and today just so happens to be Ugly Sweater Day.”

“I hope you get a consolation prize because, wow…that truly is an atrocious piece of clothing.”

The two of you start to make your way towards the elevator, and stand in awkward silence as you wait for it to reach your floor. You see him stealing glances at the design and feel your neck warming up, and start to wish you could take it off. The thought of this outfit being The Stranger's first impression of you makes you feel humiliated, but Heeseung is waiting for you outside and Jake didn’t give it to you just for it to hang in your closet. 

The chime alerts you to the doors opening and The Stranger allows you to get in first. You're about to press the button for the lobby when he beats you to it. You settle into an uncomfortable silence, resisting the urge to itch your palms and shift awkwardly to avoid drawing attention to yourself. Everything about him screams opulence, from the way he stands to the way his cologne smells. You aren’t sure that you can name the notes in the scent, but it smells extremely expensive. Even the way he stands makes you feel like you should fix your posture. 

“I’m Sunghoon,” says The Stranger. His deep voice echoes in the elevator and your throat feels dry as you tell him your name. “I’ll remember that for when we inevitably run into each other.” 

The lobby is fairly empty but you can see the hustle and bustle of city life when you look past the glass walls. Heeseung is sitting in his car, scrolling on his phone when Sunghoon opens the door for you and lets you walk out in front of him. You feel him looking at you and turn around one last time. He takes one more look at the sweater and nods. 

“Well, uh, have a good spirit day at work.”

“T-Thanks!” 

You don’t wait for his reaction and turn around to walk towards Heeseung’s car that you noticed has been recently washed. He unlocks the doors when he hears you tugging on the handles and looks at the sweater before bursting out into laughter.

“Jesus, that sweater is so fucking ugly.” 

“Thanks.” 

When you don’t put your seatbelt on, Heeseung turns to see that you’re looking outside of the window. He darts his eyes to see if he can catch a glimpse of your line of sight but comes up empty. You look fresh for this hour of the morning and Heeseung wonders if the smile on your face is because of the upcoming spirit day. 

“What are you looking at?”

You whip your head to your friend, who looks at you quizzically. “You will not believe who I talked to this morning.” 

“Who? Santa?” Heeseung looks at the photo you sent in the group chat earlier. “Nice selfie, by the way. You look like an elf.”

You swat his shoulder. “No, dummy.”

“Then who did you meet?” 

“My neighbor.” Heeseung’s jaw drops and you swat his shoulder again. He winces, but you can’t find it in yourself to care too much and buckle yourself to his passenger seat. “We gotta get to work. Drive and I’ll tell you.”

He grips the wheel and starts the fifteen minute journey. “Did you finally introduce yourself to him?” 

“Not quite. We walked out of our apartments at the same time. He said, and I quote, ‘That is an ugly sweater.’”

“I don’t know whether to be happy or sorry for you.”

“I feel stupid because of all the days I had to run into him, it had to be today.” Heeseung’s seat warmers make it all that more enticing to sulk. You tug at the hem and inspect the design, feeling somewhat regretful that you chose to participate in today’s spirit day. “I told him a little bit about why I’m wearing it and he seemed to think it was funny.” 

“Does he smell good?” You flick Heeseung’s arm, who laughs in the driver’s seat.

“Shut up. But yeah, he really does.” 

“What’s his name?” 

“Sunghoon.” Your mouth curves into a smile. 

“Sunghoon. Nice name. Sounds fancy.” 

“I guess so. He does wear a lot of name brands and high luxury fashion.”

“His name definitely suits him, then.” 

To nobody’s surprise, you have the best ugly sweater throughout the office. More people participated than you and Heeseung had originally guessed and the holiday-themed snacks your division manager provided was enough to boost office morale. The weather outside is getting darker earlier and you even feel a bit restless after sitting in your office for a while. 

Heeseung watches you from behind your frosted doors as he talks to the floor secretary to order files and copies of his projects, and the sight of you in that horrendous sweater with a smile on your face makes him smile too. You’ve looked like that the entire day, from picking you up and throughout lunch, and Heeseung wonders if could ever convince you to make a move on your neighbor since you talk about him so much. He doesn’t know how much longer he can listen to your fantasies while being extremely shy to strike a conversation with him. 

He turns to the group chat he has with Jay and Jake. You’re notably absent from this text thread (as told by the name of the group chat) and they use it to discuss anything deemed ‘guy stuff’ (most infamously when you text “TAKE THIS ELSEWHERE” when they start getting too boyish for your taste).

The Gentlemen’s Club 

heeseung: GUYS. She met her neighbor this morning

heeseung: His name is Sunghoon and he saw her with Jake’s ugly sweater

heeseung: 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

jake: IS HE CUTE

heeseung: I think so. She was blushing the entire car ride here and could barely say anything until we parked 

jake: fuck yea. i trust her taste in men because she thinks byeon wooseok and kim jaeyoung are hot. they’re gonna fall in love guys 

jay: If I didn’t know any better, I’d say Jake had one too many cups of coffee  

jake: well yes BUT u know me and you know i think they’ll have a meet cute

heeseung: Technically they already had one. Although I don’t if I’d call it a meet cute since he called your sweater ugly to her face

jake: whatever. you know what I mean. we should find out what he looks like 

jay: And how are we gonna do that?   

jake: idk maybe throw a little get together this weekend

heeseung: That’s a little soon, no? 

jake: next weekend then. 

jake: I can host at my place. tell her to bring whoever she wants. I need an excuse for a housewarming anyway 

jay: You moved in three months ago tho??

jake: it’s time to have one now!!!! I’ll text the group chat with all of us 

Heeseung switches to the group chat with you in it. 

The Family Unit:

jake: housewarming. my place. next saturday. 6pm. bring food 

jay: If you’re throwing the party, why do we need to bring the food

jake: because I am hosting god knows how many people and I cannot afford all of that 

heeseung: We can figure this out later 

you: Jaeyun, didn’t you move in three months ago ???

jay: THAT’S WHAT I SAID.

jake: we can have an official party now!!!!. bring whoever you want as long as they’re cool

you: Say less!!! I’m there. I’ll bring dessert

jake: 🤤

jay: Can I leave this group chat?

It’s painfully boring for the rest of the day as you all tie up loose ends before 6 PM hits, but you power through it and let your assistant go home for the day. With the weekend looming near after sending a few more emails, you swear you can feel the tension exiting your body. Heeseung knocks on your door and steps inside as you send one last message to a client. 

“You should invite Sunghoon.” 

“To what?” you ask him, temporarily clouded by end-of-week work stress.

“To Jake’s housewarming, dude. It’s the perfect excuse to talk to him again.” You sit back in your chair and look at him as he sits in front of you. 

“I don’t think I have the guts to do that.”

“It’s easy. Knock on his door and tell him there’s gonna be free food and drinks next weekend.”

You scoff. “Easy for you to say. You’re like a magnet. People are drawn to you because you have no problem socializing with people you don’t know.”

“You and I are friends, aren’t we? I must be doing something right.”

“Meeting at work four years ago hardly counts as socializing. It was forced proximity.” Heeseung puts his hand over his heart and pretends to cry.

“Well, for what it’s worth, I like being friends with you and you aren’t as awkward as you think you are. I think Sunghoon, or anyone for that matter, would feel that way too. You just need to put yourself out there.”

You slump back in your desk chair. “I know…It’s hard to push myself to get to know someone, though. It’s like there’s an invisible line I can’t seem to cross and it gets worse when I talk to people I find attractive. He’s like, really hot.”

“You talk to me every day and do just fine.” Expertly, he dodges when you throw a pen at him and laughs when you grunt in dissatisfaction. “What are you so scared of?”

“I don’t know. Looking like an idiot, for one. He’s so beautiful and I don’t feel worthy of him.”

“He’s a man, first of all,” Heeseung deadpans, “so he’s already beneath you.”

“Wow, so you do listen to my I-hate-men rants.”

“Yeah, because I care about you and men suck.”

“You and the guys especially when you won’t leave my apartment.” 

“But your apartment is so cozy.” You threaten to throw another pen and smile when he flinches. 

“I’m afraid of making things awkward if he doesn’t want to get to know me like that. We’ve acknowledged that we’re neighbors and all, but what if I ask him to come to Jake’s party, he says no, and thinks I’m a weirdo and a creep for asking him that after one conversation?”

“Then he’s a weirdo for being creeped out. Anyone who gets offended by being invited somewhere is weird. You’re a nice person trying to do a nice thing. There’s nothing wrong with making friends.”

Heeseung is right, like he typically always is, and you ponder on his words. Since the first time you saw Sunghoon, you’ve treated him as some fictitious crush that exists only within your head and muse over the small interactions and indulge yourself when thinking about him. Romance seems far fewer in between and you choose to stick to television shows and books that make your heart flutter instead of going on multiple dates just to find out the two of you aren’t compatible. 

It feels like an endless cycle of hopelessness at times. You’ll watch your friends fall in love and try to empathize with that kind of unfiltered joy that comes with knowing somebody loves you just as much as you love them, but you fall flat when the reality weighs in. You don’t think you’ve ever fallen in love or have felt anything remotely close to falling for someone so deeply that you lose yourself in it. It’s probably a good thing, but the yearning doesn’t seem to end even though you know it’s for the best. 

Pinning all of the qualities you’d want in a boyfriend on the stranger next door seemed like a safe bet because you never thought about the possibility of getting to know him. Sunghoon is someone who is as quiet as a mouse, never making too much noise when he’s in his apartment. He’s a model tenant who always pays his bills on time and never causes a disturbance to the building. Facing the reality that is perceiving him as anything but what your imagination conjured up makes you a little uneasy. You admire from afar but the idea of a hot guy looking in your direction makes you feel somewhat unworthy of their attention. 

“I’ll think about it,” is all you offer. Heeseung seems to be pleased at your answer and doesn’t pry any further. “Are you done with work?”

“Yup. I decided everything else could wait until Monday and sent my assistant home.” 

“Look at us being good managers.”

“We’re everything we said we would ve and then some.” Heeseung grabs your pea coat from the closet and helps you put it on when you round the corner of your desk one sleeve at a time. “Do you remember Song Bitna?”

“How could I ever forget,” you scoff, retrieving your bag and slinging it over your shoulder. “She used to make us run laps and get upset that our work wasn’t completed.”

“She made me go on more personal errands than anything work related. It’s a wonder how I managed to get promoted.”

You push the door to your office open and say goodnight to your remaining coworkers. “There’s a reason why we’re here and she isn’t. It’s good to know we aren’t shitty bosses.”

“I hope so. Sometimes I get in my own head and wonder if I’m managing everything correctly. I want my assistant to learn from me, you know?” Heeseung allows you to step into the elevator before walking in after you. 

“Yeah, but you’re good at everything you do. You should have more faith in yourself.” He nudges your shoulder with his own.

“You should take your own advice.” You bite your lip and look down at the floor. “You’ve got a week. Think about it, okay?”

“I will.” 

“I was serious about the promotion as well. I’ll put in a good word but you should consider talking to the division lead.”

Classic Heeseung. He looks out for you in more ways than one. 

***

The weekend flies by too quickly for your liking and you find yourself at your desk on a Wednesday afternoon with a cup of tea sitting between your hands to warm up your palms. The building’s central heater stopped working a few hours into the workday, leaving you and many other office workers disgruntled and cold. You shut all of your windows and paced around your office to keep your blood circulating throughout your body. The morning was fairly productive until the heating went out and you've spent the last hour replying to emails with cold fingers, pushing any and all thoughts of Sunghoon out of your mind. 

You haven’t seen him since last Friday. Sunghoon doesn’t seem to have a routine that he sticks to–one that you can identify, anyway–because you didn’t run into him for the past three days. You waited anxiously by the elevator to see if he would come barreling down the hallway and ask you to hold the door for him, but each day was met with empty silence before stepping into Heeseung’s car. 

True to your word, you spent Saturday trying to convince yourself to ask if he’d be interested in coming with you to Jake’s housewarming party. You’d wane from decision to decision, telling yourself there’s nothing inherently wrong with asking somebody if they want to hang out, but the irrational side of your brain convinced you that it would be weird to open up that kind of dialogue with a stranger. You don’t know anything about him and he doesn’t know the first thing about you. But that’s what getting to know someone consists of, doesn’t it? 

Before you knew it, Sunday came around and it was starting to get dark outside your window. The urge to curl up into your blankets and spend the rest of the evening watching Netflix was too tempting. The more you watched your TV, the more you stared at your front door. It would take a minute, maybe two at the most, to ask Sunghoon if he’d like to come with you to Jake’s. The worst thing he could do is decline your invitation. He seemed nice enough on Friday when he saw you wearing the ugly sweater and you suppose he’d be nice about letting you down gently. But even so, rejection stings. 

Your feet carried you outside of your apartment door to knock on his. You waited with your heartbeat loud in your ears but heard nothing from the other end of the door. When you peeked down at the small gap below you, there weren’t any shadows or anything indicating that Sunghoon was home. Still, you knocked once more for good measure and waited thirty seconds to see if he would open the door. Even though the most logical explanation is that your neighbor wasn’t home, heat crept up your neck and splashed onto your cheeks as you quickly made your way back inside of your apartment. With the twist of the lock behind you, your couch and TV brought some much needed comfort and distraction from feeling embarrassed. 

Heeseung hadn’t asked you about Sunghoon on Monday or Tuesday, but seemed to remember when Jake sent a reminder earlier this morning. He swung by your office as the temperature dipped and you updated him on what transpired over the weekend with a defeated sigh. Ever the optimist, Heeseung told you to try again tonight since you might have a better chance at catching Sunghoon during a weeknight. 

The day goes by slower than you’d like and when Heeseung drops you off at your apartment, you make a dash for your sanctuary and rid yourself of the day’s grime by spending a long time underneath the hot shower. Work is simultaneously ramping up and slowing down as everyone is trying to complete projects before winter recess and you feel all of the tension leave your body once the hot water soothes over your shoulder blades. It’s still relatively early in the evening when your hair is half dry and you’ve just finished eating dinner. The entire time you wash your dirty dishes, your mind can’t help but wander towards Sunghoon and what Heeseung said earlier about trying to ask him again. Surely he’s in his apartment at this hour on a Wednesday evening. 

You decide to bite the bullet. After grabbing the cardigan that rests on the back of your couch, you put it on and decide against changing into your shoes since you’ll be stepping out for just a few minutes. Sunghoon’s door stares back at you as you close your own behind you and this time, you can hear the soft sounds of R&B behind it. 

This makes your heart rate pick up speed because the real possibility that you’ll be face to face with Sunghoon becomes too real for you to handle. You could barely utter complete sentences to him last week. What makes you think you could do it now? The same scenarios of rejection and humiliation ruminate in your mind the longer you stand outside. You contemplate going back inside but the thought of telling Heeseung you chickened out and seeing a potentially disappointed expression on his face makes you knock on Sunghoon’s door. 

Unlike the last time, you hear the sound of slippers shuffling against a hardwood floor. The lights are on from what you can tell underneath the gap of the door and you start to panic when you see a shadowy figure blocking that light. You assume Sunghoon must be looking through the peephole and resist the urge to fix your hair in case it looks horrible. The door opens momentarily.

“Hey. What’s up?” Sunghoon wears a pair of dark green sweatpants and a large graphic t-shirt that makes him look like the stereotypical boy next door. You look up at him and gulp.  

“Sorry to bother you,” you apologize, suddenly feeling a lump growing in the back of your throat. 

“You’re not bothering me,” Sunghoon says it with a smile. He opens the door wider. “Do you want to come inside?” You don’t really want to because you’re afraid you might trip and fall on your way inside, but you take up his offer anyway.

“Sure.” It comes out as a squeak.

His apartment is tidy and well kept with artwork adorning the walls in his living room. It’s more spacious than your own and his furniture makes the room look bigger than it probably is, with couches against the wall and a large TV in front of it. There are photographs hung in silver frames and pictures of people you don’t recognize, along with shelves of knick knacks and other small statues you assume are artwork he’s acquired over time. Sunghoon’s living room gives you the impression that he’s somebody who cares about taking care of himself and his space. He sees that you’re particularly drawn to the photo gallery on his wall and you feel him standing next to you.

“I took most of these pictures.” 

“Are you a photographer?”

“Not professionally, no. Photography is a hobby of mine.” 

“You’re really good.” 

“Thank you.” Sunghoon looks at you before averting his gaze back to the photo wall. “My mom gave me my first camera when I was eleven and I took it with me everywhere I went. Are you a photographer too?” 

You shake your head. “Oh no, I don’t have an artistic eye like you do. But I appreciate good photos when I see them, or so I’d like to think.” Sunghoon smiles at that.

“I’m glad you think my photographs are worthy of praise. This is the first photo I ever took.” He points to an image of a young girl in the center of the photo gallery, whose short arms are reaching for the camera. She wears an infectious smile on her face that reveals a dimple on the side of her cheek. 

“Wow, you were really good even back then. Who is she, if you don’t mind me asking?” 

“That’s my younger sister,” Sunghoon says with a fond smile. “I got this camera on my birthday and she wanted to see it after my dad helped me set it up. I think this might be my favorite photo I’ve ever taken.” 

“It’s a great shot.” You compliment Sunghoon sincerely and turn your head to look at him. He clears his throat. 

“What is it that you came here for?” 

“Oh, right!” Sheepishly balancing on both of your feet, you clasp your hands behind your back and lick your lips. “I, um, well…One of my best friends is hosting a housewarming party at his apartment, and I wanted to know if you’d like to come with me.” 

Sunghoon points at himself. “Me?” You nod. “I didn’t think we were that close.” You try not to let him see how embarrassed you are. 

“Sorry, it’s probably weird that I asked you even though we barely know each other, right?” It seems as though your brain cannot stop you from speaking, a habit you have every time you begin to feel nervous. You start to back away towards his front door. “It’s just that, well, we’ve been neighbors for almost a year and I thought to myself, why not make new friends? My friend told me to invite anybody I wanted to and we have a lot of the same friends, so I knew they’d be there too.” You wince at the sound of your voice. “Anyway, I’m sorry for bothering you and for asking.” 

Sunghoon shakes his head and grabs the doorknob before you can. “You’ve got it all wrong. I’m honored that you invited me, actually. Living by yourself gets kind of lonely at times. It’s nice to go somewhere that isn’t home for a few hours. I’m a bit of an introvert and would like to make more friends.” 

“You don’t seem like an introvert to me,” you blurt out before slapping your palm over your mouth. “I mean, you’re doing just fine with me.”

He smiles at you. “Yeah, I guess I am.” 

“My friend’s a great host and loves meeting new people. You’ll make at least one friend by the time you leave. Even if you don’t, there’s gonna be food there, so you’ll have a free meal out of it.” 

“Should I bring anything?” 

You shake your head. “Don’t worry about it.” 

“I feel like I shouldn’t come there empty handed if it’s a housewarming.” 

“I’m making peppermint brownies,” you tell him. “I’ll say it’s from both of us.” 

Sunghoon seems to be satisfied with your answer. “When’s the party?” 

“This Saturday at six. We could, uh, go together? If you want to, that is.” 

“It makes sense to go together. Do you drive? I can drive us if you don’t.” 

“No, I don’t drive.” Your cheeks feel warm at your admission and you don’t know why your inability to operate a car makes you feel a bit bashful. Sunghoon doesn’t seem to mind, though. 

“Okay, I’ll drive us. Where does your friend live?”

“Not too far. He’s about twenty minutes from us.” 

“I’ll knock on your door around 5:30,” Sunghoon says with a single nod. He reaches around you to open his door for you. 

“Sounds good!” Sunghoon smiles and waves before saying goodnight. You watch him as the door closes and rush back into your apartment with your heart hammering in your chest as you sit on your couch and text Heeseung about everything that just transpired. When he asks if you asked for Sunghoon’s number, you slouch. You didn’t think about that and now you’re too embarrassed to back and ask for it. 

Three days pass by quicker than you anticipated and your plate of peppermint brownies sits covered in tin foil on your kitchen counter as you wait for Sunghoon to knock on your door. You spent the entirety of the day worrying about the sweet treat and giving yourself enough time to get ready. Perhaps it’s a bit worrisome that you spent a good chunk of time standing in front of your closet to pick an outfit for tonight, but you want to make a good first impression on Sunghoon without the ugly sweater or pajamas you wore when you invited him to Jake’s party. 

You settle with flattering jeans and a nice top with an oversized leather jacket and find yourself wondering what kind of lipstick you should put on. It feels silly to worry about these things for a person who likely wouldn’t notice that type of effort, so you settle with something that compliments your skin tone but isn’t too over the top for a casual hang out. It’s just before 5:30 when you hear your doorbell ring and your heart rate perks up at the thought of Sunghoon waiting for you. 

“Hey,” you say to Sunghoon pathetically.. Sunghoon’s wearing a light grey quarter zip sweater with a few buttons hanging loose and black trousers. You avoid gawking at him from the threshold of your doorway, but it’s hard not to. 

“Long time no see,” he jokes. “Are you ready to head to the party?” His questions bring your eyes back to his face and you smile at him awkwardly. 

“Can you hold this for a second?” You hand Sunghoon the bag with Jake’s ugly sweater. “Let me get the brownies.” You barely register that Sunghoon’s holding a bag of his own until you walk back with the dessert, successfully locking your door without dropping your keys. “What's in the bag?” 

Sunghoon looks at you sheepishly. “I went out and bought some wine because I’d feel bad taking credit for your brownies when I didn’t help make them. There’s some soju in there too because I started to overthink and wondered if any of your friends drank wine.” 

You beam at Sunghoon. How thoughtful of him. “Wine and soju are perfect. The guys will probably drink that up before you get the chance to introduce yourself and I’ll happily drink the wine. My friend Jay might, too.” 

“I’m excited to meet your friends,” Sunghoon says as the two of you walk side by side towards the elevator. He presses the button and lets you walk inside the contraption first. “It’s been a while since I got the chance to meet new people.”

“If they make you uncomfortable or anything, let me know and we can leave.” 

Sunghoon laughs. “I’m sure I’ll be fine. If you like them, then so do I.”

“That doesn’t seem very introverted of you.” He smiles at you and shrugs.

“I’m trying to get out of my shell.” Sunghoon lets you step out of the elevator and guides you to his car. “I keep to myself most of the time but I have my moments. It’s easy to get lost in a city as busy as Seoul but sometimes it gets a bit lonely.” 

He unlocks the door and puts the sweater in the backseat, along with the brownie tray on the floor for extra stability. You watch him open the passenger door for you and smile as you climb inside. Even the interior of his car is orderly and pristine. Sunghoon has you typing in Jake’s address before the two of you hit the road. 

Sunghoon drives like an expert, weaving between lanes without causing collisions or disturbance to the traffic. He uses his turn signals, which you appreciate, and doesn’t get too angry when people cut him off unnecessarily. He looks a bit too good from where you’re sitting with his jawline looking sharper than the edge of a knife with the glow from headlights shining across his face. It’s a bit unfair how beautiful Sunghoon looks from where you are and you’re having a hard time believing someone as handsome as him is talking to someone as awkward as you. 

“Are you from Seoul?” you ask him in the midst of the silence. His music hums in the background and pairs well with the smooth sound of his car’s engine. 

“No, I’m not.” Sunghoon spares you a glance. “I’m from a small suburb just outside of Busan.”

“Do you miss it?” His smile falters and you almost regret asking.

“Sometimes, but I think I’ve found my footing here. I love the city life and I like that everything is so different and loud. There are a million ways to live your life and nobody expects you to follow a certain path.” 

“Yeah, I agree with that. I’m from a small fishing town a few hours away from here where everyone comes from a long line of farmers and fisherman. It’s hard to carry that burden and expectation when fishing is the last thing you want to do with your life.” 

“People have a crazy way of making you feel indebted, don’t you think?”

You nod. “Agreed. Sometimes I feel guilty for enjoying my time in Seoul. I don’t have to do anything I don’t want to do, theoretically. Everyone back home used to tell me about the amount of bills I’d have to pay and how dangerous big cities are, but I’ve found a home here that I never felt back in my neighborhood. It’s like nobody knows who I am and I find comfort in that.” 

“I feel the same way. I can be whoever I want to be without people telling me it’s wrong. I don’t have to live my life by another person’s expectation and there are so many different things I could be doing with myself. How long have you been in Seoul? Have you visited your hometown at all?” 

“I’ve been here for eight years, if we count my university days, but I’ve been living here full time for four years. I went back home for a few months after graduating before getting the job I have now.” You play with your fingers as you speak, the feeling of guilt bubbling to the surface. “As for going home, well, I’ve been back but it’s hard to find the time with my job.”

“I understand that. I haven’t been home in a while either. I don’t really want to go back either.” You want to ask him why but don’t. 

“Does your younger sister still live there?” 

“She’s still back home and lives with our parents while he’s finishing up university in Busan, actually.” 

“Oh, that’s cool! It’s nice of your parents to let her stay at home while she studies.” Sunghoon smiles in a way you can’t decipher. 

“Yeah, really nice.” 

Sunghoon parks right in front of Jake’s apartment just when you’re starting to regret bringing up his family. You risk looking over at him and an apology sits on your tongue because it seems like a sore subject for him based on the short response, but Sunghoon exits the car and grabs the alcohol and the bag that contains the ugly sweater. You carry the brownies and feel a bit self conscious when you feel him walking behind you. Your shoes feel heavy around your feet and despite having been over to Jake’s apartment more times than you can count on both hands, you second guess every step you take on the way to his front door. 

“Thanks for bringing me here,” Sunghoon tells you after a beat of silence as you approach Jake's front door. You want to say something, but the door opening interferes with your thoughts. 

“Hey, you made it!” Jake ushers the two of you inside and by force of habit, you take off your shoes and out on the designated slippers you purposely left here when he first moved in. “Did you bring the sweater?” 

“The fact that you want to keep that ugly thing concerns me.” Heeseung gives you a hug and grabs the brownies from your hands as you struggle to take your coat off. “I’ll put this in the kitchen.” 

“Sunghoon has the sweater.” When you’re settled, you grab the paper bag and hand it to Jake. The warmth of his apartment feels comforting until you remember that your neighbor is a complete stranger in a new environment. You turn around to see him balancing awkwardly with a bag of alcohol behind his back. “Everyone, this is Sunghoon. Sunghoon, this is…everyone.” 

“Hey,” he says awkwardly, bringing his hand up to wave at your friends who’ve all gathered around to see the newcomer. Heeseung comes back after he’s put the dessert in the kitchen. The bottles in Sunghoon’s hands ring against one another, which makes Jake’s ears perk up. 

“Did you bring something?” 

“Wine and soju. She told me not to bring anything but I didn’t want to show up empty handed.” 

“I told him we could bring brownies together.” Jake makes a face at you and grabs the bag of alcohol from Sunghoon’s hands, pulling him further into the apartment. 

“Thank you, Sunghoon.” He turns back to you. “The thought that you could’ve deprived us of alcohol is insane, actually.” 

You purse your lips and fold your arms in front of your chest. “He could’ve brought everyone ear muffs, for all you know. What are you gonna do with them if your big ass ears can barely handle your headphones?” 

“Ignore them,” Heeseung says to Sunghoon as he approaches the two of you. “They fight like siblings. I’m Heeseung.” 

Sunghoon laughs. “I’m starting to think you guys are either really close or secretly hate each other.” 

“I hate Jake and love everybody else.” Jake bumps your hip and smiles at you, and you find that you can’t keep up that faux attitude for very long. He pulls you into a hug before properly introducing himself to Sunghoon and walks to the kitchen to open a bottle of wine and store the rest in his refrigerator. 

“Do you want a drink or some food? We have a little pot luck going on.”

“I could use a drink.”

Heeseung beckons Sunghoon towards the kitchen while Jay steps beside you, and your neighbor turns back to look at you before disappearing around the corner. “See? It’s not so scary once you take the first step.” 

“Your face was chiseled by God. You of all people don’t have to worry about rejection.”

Jay laughs at that. “Still, though. You’ve been talking about Sunghoon for so long that I was getting worried he might’ve been a figment of your imagination.” 

“I might be delusional, but I’m not crazy.”

“We all have our ways to cope.” You bump your shoulder with his. “You should know we’re all rooting for you and Sunghoon.” 

“Oh my God, it’s not like I pictured myself marrying him!” You whisper-yell loud enough for him to hear through gritted teeth and smack his bicep. “I just think he’s cute. The thought of being rejected by him scares the shit out of me.”

“He’s just a guy?” 

“A beautiful, charming guy.”

“Again, just a guy.” 

It’s his turn to make you laugh. “You always keep me grounded, Jongseong.” 

“Who else will? But anyway, you should also know that Jake decided to host this housewarming party because Heeseung told us you ran into him on your way to work.” 

“I don’t know whether to be flattered or weirded out by that.” 

“It’s Jake we’re talking about. He has his ways of showing it, but he’s a sentimental guy.” 

“I guess I should thank him if tonight goes well.”

“Don’t stress about anything too much.” Jay starts to walk towards the kitchen and beckons for you to follow him. “Let’s get you a drink.”

You spot Sunghoon first, who leans against Jake’s counter while he looks at all of the food your friends brought (Chick-Fil-A catering, because he’s been craving it and Heeseung offered to pay for half of it). There’s an impressive selection of alcohol beside the large platter of breaded chicken, and macaroni and cheese that smells like it’s just been pulled out of the oven. Sunghoon seems entertained enough with Jake fixing him a plate and opening a bottle of beer for him. You stand beside Jay and feel a bit silly worrying over whether or not your guest feels comfortable with your group of friends, but he seems to be doing okay because he isn’t searching for you. 

“How do you guys know each other?” 

“This one spilled coffee on me when we first met.” Heeseung laughs at the memory and the tips of his ears turn a deep shade of red. He’s talkative when he has enough alcohol in his system and the nostalgia makes you curl into yourself as Jay hands you a bottle of beer. Everyone looks at you when Heeseung points in your direction. 

“She’s really fucking clumsy.”

“Thanks for the commentary, Jake,” you say sarcastically. 

“We work together at a marketing agency and started around the same time,” Heeseung explains further. “She just moved to the city and we clicked on our first day.” 

“I met the other two through Heeseung, actually.” Sunghoon looks between Jay and Jake when you gesture, who each seem like they’ve also started drinking before you arrived. 

“We’re friends from college and we all decided to stay around the area after graduating.” Jay pours himself a glass of wine and you can see Sunghoon beginning to perk up when he notices. You find that kind of cute. 

“Heeseung’s the reason we’re all friends.” Jake pats his friend on the back. “It’s funny though because we actually all met her at his housewarming all those years ago too.” 

“Huh,” says Sunghoon. “What a coincidence. Sounds like you guys have a thing for housewarming parties.” 

“I’ll take up any excuse to host. It’s how we get her to come out of her shell.” Your cheeks warm up but you aren’t sure if it’s because of the alcohol or because everyone’s looking at you again. 

“She’s a bit of an introvert, but she’s really fun when you get to know her. Sorta like a diamond in the rough type of thing.” 

“Okay, wow! We don’t have to talk about me.” 

Jake points at a grocery store receipt on his refrigerator and grins. “This is the first time she bought groceries for me when I moved in a few months ago. She’s a bit sentimental and put this on when she came over for the first time. It’s nice, though.” 

“Oh my god,” you mutter. Sunghoon smiles at you and those fairytale-like butterflies in the pit of your stomach feel like they’re flying in a metal cage. 

“I like that you’re sentimental. You’re a little like me. I decided to come to this party because somebody else gave me the choice to be social.” 

“Yeah.” You’re a bit breathless and you’re sure Jay’s grinning beside you. “I get a bit intimidated when I do something different or meet new people.”

“Who doesn’t?” You suppose he’s right. 

“She’s incredible with gifts, too. Last year, she got me a signed guitar by my favorite musician because they worked on a campaign together.” Jay takes out his phone to show Sunghoon a photo of the autographed instrument. 

“So thoughtful,” Sunghoon says absentmindedly. It throws your heart in a loop.

“There is so much more to talk about beyond me,” you say, embarrassed that your friends are doting on you in front of Sunghoon. The attention is a bit too much and you grab another beer on your way out of the kitchen, choosing not to look back at the four boys who all laugh at your exit. 

The entire night goes smoother than you could’ve ever hoped for. Your friends leave the weird, overbearing protectiveness in the kitchen when you walk out of it and talk to Sunghoon like he’s their friend too. It still makes you a bit shy when they actively support you in this crush because you aren’t used to this level of care and trust in people. Affection makes you a bit uncomfortable and you wish it didn’t.

Sunghoon seems like he’s enjoying himself as well. You can tell he’s a little buzzed but stopped drinking halfway through the night to sober up by the time he has to drive. Even in your inebriated state, you appreciate his sense of responsibility. He’s rolled the sleeves of his quarter zip up and you try your best not to drool over his toned arms every time he moves his hands when he talks. Sunghoon looks so effortlessly cool when with your friends and it’s almost as if he’s known the three of them for as long as you’ve known them to the point where you’re questioning if he’s truly an introvert or not. 

It’s this level of comfort that keeps you in Seoul. Surrounding yourself with people who support you unconditionally feels like a reward after spending your childhood wishing for the friends you have now. It feels like everybody has a place in your life because you’ve done the work to keep people who love you for who you are rather than somebody they assume you to be. It’s nice to let go of the high walls you’ve built around yourself for protection. 

Eventually, half of the alcohol is gone and so has all of the food. Jake’s had a bit of influence over your drunken state because as he puts it, he’s the host and needs to make sure everybody is having a good time. You’re not one to blame him though, since you’ve been accepting every shot and drink he’s put in your hand. Jay’s the one who prevents Jake from giving you anything more when he sees the way you’re swaying in your spot on the floor where all of you have formed a circle. 

Jake returns from the kitchen after throwing away empty bottles. “Damn, so all of us are staying here for the holidays?”

“I haven’t decided if I’m staying or not, if that counts for anything. My parents are going to be in London but there’s a month and a half until Christmas, so I have some time to decide.” 

“Sunghoon, you’ve got to be crazy rich if you can afford to fly to Europe at the last minute.” You’re about to scold your friend but Sunghoon just laughs. 

“I suppose I’m a bit privileged like that. I’ve spent every holiday season back home and wanted to try something different this year.”

“What does Christmas in your hometown look like?” 

“Really cold. Almost as cold as Seoul when the snow begins to fall. We take Christmas seriously since we’re primarily known as a holiday destination for people who like that kind of stuff. A lot of our publicity revolves around the holidays, so my city is a little bit like a winter wonderland. At least, that’s what they want you to believe.” 

“Sounds like the perfect place for you,” Heeseung says as he nods over at you. 

“Why’s that?” 

“She loves Christmas. She can’t get enough of it and does everything holiday-related as soon as summer ends.” 

“Do you like Christmas that much?” Sunghoon asks you with apprehension in his tone.

“You don’t?” 

Sunghoon shrugs at your small outburst. “Our whole thing is about Christmas and holiday festivities. It gets a little old when you’re surrounded by it all the time” 

“Sounds like a dream.” He smiles at you. 

“I’m sure you’d like it there. My parents love the holidays and go all out every year. It’s a bit corny but they’re wholesome people and I know they love their country as much as anyone else.”

“She always knows what’s going on around town if it has anything to do with the holidays,” Jake tells him. 

“Oh, really?”

“Did you know there’s gonna be a Christmas market right next to Yonsei? They’re gonna be selling a bunch of baked goods and decorative stuff. I heard their food trucks are really good.” 

Jay chimes in. “We should go next weekend.” Jake elbows his ribcage. “Actually, you two should go together.” 

“Us?” Sunghoon points between him and yourself. 

“Yeah, why not?” Jake shrugs like it’s the most obvious answer. “She’s a huge fan of the holidays and you’ve never experienced it here. Why not see what Christmas in Seoul looks like?” 

“I’m not big on those kinds of things.” Your heart plummets and you don’t really know why. You put a smile on your face anyway. 

“You don’t have to do anything, Sunghoon. I don’t mind doing these things alone and you don’t have to come with me if you don’t want to.” 

There is an indescribable look on Sunghoon’s face when you finish speaking and the living room is completely silent. He peeks at you through his long eyelashes and it feels as if he’s inspecting you from where he sits. Neither of your friends say anything either and you’re one second from awkwardly laughing when you realize nobody’s saying anything until Sunghoon speaks up again. 

“I’ll go with you.” 

“You really don’t have to.” 

He cocks his head to the side. “It sounds like you’re really excited about it. I might be tired of Christmas but maybe you can change my mind.” 

His words fly right over your head and Heeseung can see it in the way you beam at the mention of Sunghoon’s proposal. Even he hears the absurdity of it all when he looks at Sunghoon, who doesn’t spare anybody else a glance. You try to contain your excitement and keep smiling to a minimum, but you feel your cheeks harden anyway and Sunghoon smiles right back at you. 

“We could go tomorrow!” 

“You’ve had quite a bit to drink,” Heeseung reminds you. “Maybe next weekend?” 

“You, of all people, should know that I don’t get hangovers. I'm too excited just thinking about it.”

“We can go tomorrow if you’re not too tired. I can check in with you when I wake up. How does 10 AM sound?” 

You sigh, content. “Perfect.” 

When the conversation starts to die down naturally, everybody seems to be under the impression that it’s time to go. You say goodbye to your friends and thank Jake for hosting the party, choosing not to tell him what Jay had revealed to you earlier. Sunghoon seems like he had a great time because as you’re putting your shoes on, you see him exchanging numbers with everybody else. Sunghoon carries the empty tray that was once filled with dessert and tells Jake to keep the rest of the alcohol, no doubt solidifying him as someone he’d want to keep around. The drive back to your apartment feels too long for your liking and your body feels heavy when the two of you arrive at your respective doors. 

“Thanks for driving. I promise I don’t usually get this drunk.” You hiccup. “Well, okay, that’s a lie. I only get this drunk when I’m with this specific group of friends.” 

“It’s fine. It’s nice to let go every once in a while.” 

You look up at him. “Did you have fun?” 

“I did,” he says with a single, firm nod. “Your friends are really funny. I was kind of worried about it on the way here because I tend to be really quiet when I meet new people for the first time, but it felt like we knew each other already.” 

“They knew about you.”

“Did they?” 

“Mhm.” You hiccup again. “I told them about my new neighbor a while ago and thought you looked cool, but I’m a little awkward, you know? I don’t really know how to talk to people without someone else acting as a buffer.” 

“Could've fooled me. You did just fine.” 

“That’s because you saw me in Jake’s ugly fucking sweater.” You make a face at the memory, cheeks heating up at the look on Sunghoon’s face when his eyes roamed from the fabric to your face. “You called me ugly.” 

Sunghoon laughs. “I called the sweater ugly. Not you.” 

“You don’t think I’m ugly?” Your question catches Sunghoon off guard, but you’re already fishing for your apartment keys when he looks at you. 

“No, I don’t.” You don’t seem to be paying attention to him as you successfully jam your keys into the lock on the second try. He sees a peek inside when you open the door and watches you stumble inside before latching onto the doorknob to balance yourself. 

“Thanks for coming with me, Sunghoon. I’m really glad you had fun. I think my friends like you a lot.”

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah. They’re a little protective over me and like to make sure any guy I hang out with is cool. You know how it is.” Sunghoon holds the door open for you while you take your shoes off and throw your purse somewhere on your couch before turning around to look at him. 

“I mean it, though. Thanks for coming and dealing with me and my friends. We’re a little bit of a handful.” 

He smiles and shakes his head. “Not in the way you think. It’s nice that you have people in your life that you can be yourself around and it seems like they love you just as much as you love them.” 

“I really love my friends. But don’t tell them I said that.” Sunghoon pretends to zip his mouth shut. 

“Your secret's safe with me.” You look at him with an unreadable expression, but it gets replaced with a tired smile. 

“Sleep well, okay? My friends are your friends.” 

“You’re so generous,” he says with a laugh. You take a step forward but retract when the sober part of your brain reminds you that the two of you aren’t likely close enough to give each other a hug goodbye. 

“...Do you still want to come to the Christmas market with me tomorrow?” 

“I’ll give you one chance to convince me that the holidays are fun, but only if you wake up without a hangover.” He laughs when you give him a mock salute.

“I don’t get hangovers, remember?” You tap the side of your head with your pointer finger. Sunghoon smiles down at you before pulling his phone from the back of his pocket. 

“I should probably get your number too.” 

“Oh.” He hands it to you and your fingers suddenly feel numb. You manage to type your number and try to think of something cute and quirky to put as your contact, ultimately settling with your name followed by the ‘:)’ symbol. It’s casual but you think it makes you stand out from generic contact names, as Sunghoon seems like the kind of guy who keeps everything straight to business. 

“I’ll text you so you have my number too.” You pull out your phone when you see him typing. 

Unknown: It’s Sunghoon! :) 

You feel like a creep trying to bite back a smile.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, okay? Don’t push yourself if you wake up too tired but promise me you’ll try to get some sleep tonight.” 

“I promise. Goodnight, Sunghoon.”

***

You aren’t sure whether you’re pleased or not when you wake up at eight o’clock on the dot with no chance of falling back asleep in sight. You turn to see that your phone is fully charged and force yourself to  leave your warm, comfortable bed to prepare yourself for the day. You don’t respond to the text Sunghoon sent last night and don’t know if he’s going to keep up his end of the bargain and go with you to the Christmas market, but you decide to get ready in the event that he was serious about it. 

Your friends text you too, both in the group chat and separately. Heeseung, as always, is telling you not to overthink anything and enjoy spending time with your neighbor crush. He tries to be as encouraging as he can but can’t help slipping in a few jokes here and there about how fast you’re growing up (even though you’re only a few months younger than he is). Jay sends you words of encouragement too, but he keeps it straight to the point and tells you to buy him something that you think he’d like if you stumble across anything. Jake, on the other hand, makes far too many inappropriate jokes that you have no choice but to laugh. You feel something akin to a high school crush getting ready for a first date even though this isn’t technically a date. 

You’ve managed to pull yourself together and see that the time is half past nine when you check the clock. Sunghoon hasn’t texted you at all today so you take the liberty to let him know you’re awake and hope you don’t come off as pushy or overly eager. But he responds in kind and tells you he’s getting ready and will be knocking on your door soon. 

True to his word, Sunghoon stands at your doorstep when it’s 10 AM.

“You look so cozy,” he says. 

Never mind that you’re swearing something you deemed cute and casual that pairs well with the low temperature outside along with the snowfall from last night. Sunghoon steps out looking like a model himself with his tailored trousers, a graphic shirt, and a denim jean jacket. He looks like the epitome of every girl’s fantasy of the boy next door once again.

“You look really good.” You say it before you can catch yourself and he laughs. 

“You think so?” Your eyes snap up at him as you frantically close your door behind you and lock it.  

“Will you be warm enough in that?” 

“I’ll be fine, but I appreciate your concern.” You frown when he starts to lead you towards the elevator. 

“If you say so.” You see a small silver camera peeking out of his pockets. “What’s that?” 

He pulls it out for you to see. “It’s a Z155 film camera. I got it before moving to Seoul and wanted to learn how to photograph with this type of camera. Cool, right?” 

Your worries dissipate the more you walk through your neighborhood and onto the outdoor market you’ve had bookmarked for weeks. Perhaps it’s the warm coffee amidst the chilly winter that excited you, or the handmade decorations that seem far too inexpensive for what they’re worth, but your face lights up when you walk through the aisles. There are too many vendors for you to look at and the overwhelming feeling perks up in your chest when you see different people trying to attract customers. But you’d argue that’s one of your favorite parts; hearing people talk about why they love the holidays so much brings you a sense of joy and fulfillment you don’t feel elsewhere. Sunghoon is a good sport about it too despite being a bit apprehensive at first. He graciously paid for your coffee and breakfast consisting of a warm butter croissant. It melts on your tongue and you regret not buying a second one.

People always ask you why you love the holidays so much and you tell them it’s because there’s no greater joy than being surrounded by your loved ones into the new year. You’ve always been a fan of winter despite the sun setting earlier than it does in the summer. Doing winter-related things in the appropriate season makes you happy, especially if you manage to drag one of your friends along for the ride. You draw the line at caroling, though. That’s taking it a bit too far. 

But the real reason is that Christmastime and the beginning of snowfall always marks a vicious cycle of wishing you could be anywhere but the present. Your childhood was riddled with uncertainties and walking on eggshells around your family and friends, and your household often felt like a ticking time bomb waiting to explode. You were too afraid of making a mistake and chose to retreat within yourself, operating under the assumption that pleasing everybody else was how to protect yourself and your feelings. 

Prior to moving to Seoul, the start of the cold season was a reminder that your life wasn’t as picture perfect as you liked to imagine it was. No amount of television shows or fictitious scenarios running through your head before falling asleep would ever negate the neglect and absent feeling of joy in your heart as autumn turned into winter. You used to bide your time by hoping the months would roll past you until the springtime arrived. It always felt humiliating to hear your friends tell you about their vacations and all of the presents they received that year when the most your family could do was keep the lights on. That emptiness in the depths of your heart felt like it was void of feeling anything at all, and the holidays served as a reminder that things wouldn’t get better. 

It’s no surprise when Sunghoon turns to you as you both walk through the aisles of jewelry and artwork vendors when he asks you why you love Christmas so much. Somehow, you can’t bring yourself to give the rehearsed spiel you reserve for people who don’t know you very well, and instead give him a half-truth.  

“This time of year is hard for some people and I used to feel like the world would stop spinning if I didn’t try to be at least a little happy when I moved to Seoul a few years ago. I was all alone for the first time in my entire life and barely knew anybody, and had to come up with my own way of cheering myself up since I spent it alone. I did a bunch of things by myself, like going to holiday markets or ice skating. I didn’t mind the solitude that much.” 

“Were you friends with Heeseung and the guys at that time?” 

“Barely. Heeseung and I were only coworkers back then but we sat across from each other every day to be friendly. But I didn’t know him as well as I do now and had a few roommates who went back home for a couple of weeks. It was pretty lonely and I hated feeling like I was stuck when I was the one who wanted to move to the big city.” 

“I think I understand. Christmas is a reminder of overcoming hardship for your first time living by yourself.” 

You nod, a bit relieved that he understands you a little bit. “Kind of, yeah. I didn’t grow up in the happiest household and wanted to do something good for myself since I left my hometown. It feels like a shame if I don’t at least try.” 

“I think that’s the most profound thing anybody has ever said to me.” 

“I sound like one of those generic books with corny quotes.” 

“Can’t be corny if it’s true.” 

You smile at him. “I’ve become a lot better about being positive and optimistic since getting to know the guys, too. Hanging out with them during my second year in Seoul made me realize I wasn’t as alone as I thought I was, and even when they all went home to visit their families, I didn’t feel like the world was collapsing around me when I was alone for a few days. It felt nice to trust people and realize that people cared about me the way I wanted them to.”

“They sound like really great friends.”

“They are. I don’t know what I’d do without them, if I’m being totally honest. I think my mom was worried about me for the first year of me living here because I barely talked about meeting anybody. She used to complain that I always talked about work and that I stayed in too much on the weekends. I used to think she was just berating me but I get it now.”

“Sounds like she wanted you to get out and have fun.” 

“Yeah. I guess my mom was trying to tell me to get a life without directly telling me. She loves it when I send her pictures of myself outside of my apartment and I fill her in on things I’ve been up to that don't have to do with my career. She’s proud of me in that sense but always reminds me that there’s more to life than my job.”

“You have a great mom, from what I can tell. She has your best interest at heart and I think it’s sweet of her to care about you so much. What about your dad? Do you talk to him at all?” 

You look to the ground. “No. He passed away four years ago.” 

“Oh.” Sunghoon nods silently and tucks his hands behind his back. “I’m sorry.” 

“There’s no need to be. It happened a long time ago.” 

Sunghoon nods from your peripheral vision. “Do you see your mom often? Does she visit you in Seoul?” 

You shake your head. “She works at a fish dock and can’t take a lot of time off.” 

“I see. Do you visit her, then?” 

You’re acutely aware of Sunghoon walking beside you but his footsteps fall deaf to your ears when you think about your mother and picture her throwing nets of fish into baskets to sell to merchants in the same afternoon. She wakes up hours before the sun rises to greet fishermen by the docks as soon as daylight breaks and leaves when the space is clean and the fish is sold. You picture her in rubber overalls and boots, her hair tied back in a tight ponytail with a mask covering the lower half of her face to avoid the scent of the fish even though she tells you she’s used to it by now. 

It was hard to deal with her waning hours in your childhood and you often yearned for her presence when you awoke to see no trace of her in your household. You had a knack for differentiating the difference in gait between her and your father, and hearing the heavier steps of his footsteps always made you disappointed. Feeling his presence outside of your bedroom door felt like it was a prison sentence.

In a town that seldom encourages any lifestyle aside from fishing and farming, you always find a bit of solace in creative writing clubs and the school musicals as a way to excuse yourself from the small town life. You’d picture yourself underneath a single spotlight, standing center stage where everybody in the audience regarded you as someone who’d make it far beyond the borders of the isolated town. You imagine them roaring in applause when you took your final bow with your mother sitting in the front row with a bouquet of flowers in her hands.

But life and finances were immediate priorities to keep the roof over your heads and the table full of food. The electricity bill was renewed solely by your mother’s efforts to keep the three of you afloat whereas your father could barely keep a job for longer than a few months before the inevitable discussion of his unemployment. You recall hearing hushed conversations that always escalated to loud arguments just outside of your bedroom door and shoved headphones into your ears to drown out the sound of an unhappy marriage. 

His absence was deafening and there were moments where you preferred a chaotic household over a quiet one. In the mere weeks that followed his death, life seemed to move on for your mother but not for you. She still woke up before dawn and never complained about the cold weather during the winter months or the heavy rainfalls in the summer. Whereas she endured life as if he hadn’t passed, you carried the weight of emotional neglect and dissonance of your relationship with him. 

The funeral was a month later and his cremated remains were spread along the larger lake nearby because he always said he would never choose to move away from water. The boat ride to the deepest part of the lake was uncomfortable and frustrating as your mother and two of his closest friends lamented over his passing, barely touching on the hardship he put your family through in his years being alive. It seemed like everyone was able to forgive him and move on as if every single person in his family went unscathed. Listening to them recite their happiest memories with him felt like a knife twisting in your heart until it stopped beating. 

Moving away was bittersweet, too. The neighborhood you grew up in never felt like a home to you but it would always be nostalgic. It was a plot of land with four walls and a roof, and yet the memories you’ve made haunt every corner of your street like a ghost that refuses to cross into the light. The grey walls look more dreary and dull than it had before and the large tree that grew on the lawn was cut down after years of neglect. Your old house looked brand new and unrecognizable. Everything had changed too quickly for your liking. Even when you packed your last box in the moving van, the emptiness of your bedroom felt like you were saying goodbye to a part of your life you’d never yearn for again. You’ve never looked back since. 

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have brought that up.” Sunghoon brings you out of your temporary stupor. 

“It’s alright. I didn’t mean to get lost in my thoughts.” 

He gently knocks his shoulder into yours. “Do you want to talk about it?” 

“I don’t think talking about even more depressing things is gonna put you in the holiday spirit.” 

“Keeping them to yourself just to make other people comfortable won’t put you in the holiday spirit either.” You know he’s right and begin to gnaw at your inner cheek. 

“I wouldn't want to make you uncomfortable.” 

“The nice thing about having friends is that you can say whatever you want and they won't judge you.” Sunghoon smiles at you like he means it. His eyes twinkle underneath the sun and, even if for a moment, you feel like he’s right. 

“My mom and I are close, even if we don’t talk every single day. She works at a fishing dock and that takes up most of her time, and I work at one of the busiest marketing agencies in Korea, which eats up my week. We find the time to talk to each other and I tell her almost everything. I don’t think there’s a secret of mine she doesn’t know. 

“But even so, I love her too much to ever tell her how I’m barely handling everything. It's like I’ve been running into a brick wall every time I try to walk away from grieving. It’s always been the two of us even when he was alive. She raised me the best she could because he was always physically there, but never emotionally present for either of us. His passing left so many questions unanswered and unresolved feelings but it seems like she’s moved on from it.” 

“I’m sorry to hear that.” 

“It was a long time ago. My dad and I were never that close. There were a few good memories that I think about from time to time, but sometimes they’re ruined by all of the bad things I think about when I think about him. It’s an endless cycle of self sabotaging and I can’t stop myself from doing it. My mom wants me to visit her for a weekend during the holidays and she keeps asking me when I want to come home, but I keep pushing it off because I can’t bring myself to go back to a place that made me unhappy.” 

Sunghoon remains quiet beside you. When you take a peek at him, he looks as if he’s deep in thought as he looks ahead at the environment and watches the children play on the nearby playground. His eyebrows are furrowed only slightly and his mouth forms a downward pout, and you’re left wondering what he's thinking about. 

Finally, he speaks. “Do you feel guilty for putting it off?” 

“Yeah, I do.” 

“It’s almost like you know it's the right thing to do but you can’t bring yourself to do it. People teach you that family is everything, but when they force you to act and feel a certain way, it’s like you’re suffocating.”

“It’s like you took the words right out of my mouth. I keep telling her I’d think about it but I always feel guilty because it’s just an excuse to put off making a decision. I’d feel guilty if I don’t go, but I can’t bring myself to make that trip, even if she’s just a few hours away.” 

“My parents are a bit similar. They’ve given me more than I could ever ask for, and yet I still feel selfish for wanting to explore myself without them right behind me.” 

“I feel like an awful daughter every time I don’t agree to go home. I know she can tell I feel hesitant about it. I don't want to make her worry and I wish this feeling would go away. I can’t face my fears yet.” 

“Pardon if this is a difficult question for you, but…Is your father the main reason why you don’t want to go back?” 

“Yes.” You answer him meekly, as if telling the truth above a whisper will send you straight to purgatory. “I can’t walk in my neighborhood without hearing the sound of his voice when he yelled at me. Being in my house makes me think of all the times he’d threaten to throw me onto the streets for something as stupid as forgetting to wash the dishes. That place is a carousel of bad memories that I never want to think about ever again.”

“I’m so sorry.” 

“It’s normal for me now but it doesn’t make me feel any better if I try to frame it as ordinary. It doesn’t hurt me on most days. I push him out of my mind and focus on the present but the holidays are when I start to think about him and my childhood the most. I’ve never had a peaceful winter. There was always something going on and either Christmas or New Year’s was always ruined.”

“Is that why you love the holidays so much? To override your bad memories and create new ones?” 

“Yes. I never want to feel the way that I did before he passed away and having my friends here with me makes me forget about how sad I get when October rolls around. The weather gets colder but I try to do everything I can to think about how much I have to look forward to now that I’ve got so much time to do whatever I want. I learned that I can’t rely on somebody else to make me feel like I have something to live for.” 

“That’s admirable of you and I hope you know that.” 

“I don’t know if I’d put it that way.”

Sunghoon shakes his head. “It is, though. It sounds like you had a rough childhood and your mom was spread thin with her job that it left you with someone who couldn’t take care of you. I can hear it in the way you talk. You’ve got this determination inside of you whether you realize it or not.”

“Sometimes I feel like it’s all for nothing. I wake up and live my life but it doesn't feel like I’m getting better.”

“You have your whole life ahead of you to understand the grieving process and work through that. You’ll never know if you don’t stick around to find out, will you?” 

“No, I suppose not.” 

“My parents put a lot of pressure on me to perform well in everything. Bad grades weren’t acceptable and I juggled a few different sports to fill my free time. It always felt like they set me on a path that I needed to follow instead of allowing me to figure out myself on my own. I know they meant well and I know they loved me, but sometimes I wonder if they’d love me knowing that I want something different than their future for me. 

“How do you handle it?” 

“I don’t.” Sunghoon shrugs nonchalantly and the hard snow underneath his foot crunches loudly as you near the end of the aisleway. “I keep putting it off like you do. I’m here in Seoul because they agreed to let me explore the city for a while until it’s time for me to return and discuss the future they want for me.” 

“What do they expect you to do?”

Sunghoon purses his lips. “They want me to take over the family business. My father is adamant that I come home and take it seriously because he’s planning on retiring soon and trusts me to be the person who handles everything. They run a local grocery market chain and love that lifestyle but it’s not for me. I want to be here in Seoul and figure out what my life is supposed to look like without them holding onto the dream that I’ll run the company. They’ve made good money off of it and found success as they’re starting to expand, but I don't want to have any part in it.

“I majored in business and operations when I was in university but hated every second of it. I always felt like I was grinding myself to the bones but I did it to make them happy. I never felt like I got the chance to do anything I wanted to do until they agreed to let me move here.” 

“You don’t seem like the kind of guy who’d run a grocery store chain.”

Sunghoon beams at that. “I don’t think so either. I like to think of myself as pretty creative but I don’t know what to do with that. I didn’t take any photography classes in college and I feel like my time is running up.” 

“The beauty of time is that there’s so much of it. You can do anything you want, whenever you want.” 

“Thanks. I’ve been taking a few photography classes here and there.” He pulls out the camera from his pocket and lets you look at it. “Lately, this is how I’ve been getting my creative fix. It feels good to do anything other than learning about how grocery stores operate. I couldn’t care less about that and I feel like myself when I’m behind the camera.” 

“I like that you’re so passionate about photography, Sunghoon. I can hear how much you love it by how you’re talking about it. It’s nice to hear people talk about their hobbies.” 

“He tries to hide a smile but fails, and instead turns the camera on and holds it above his eye. “Can I take a picture of you?” 

“Me?” 

He pulls it away and grins. “Yes, you. Who else would I be talking to?” You stand beside a large collection of snowglobes and pick one up as Sunghoon points the camera at you again. 

“You could’ve been talking to this snowglobe for all I know.” 

“Too bad. I want to take a photo of you. Smile for me.” 

Reluctantly, you do and see the flash go off before putting the snowglobe down and apologizing to the vendor, who doesn’t seem to be displeased with what transpired in front of her. Sunghoon thanks her too with a short bow before turning his camera off and tucking it back inside of his pocket. 

“The fun of film photography is seeing the pictures when they develop. As much as I love learning about lighting and composition, I like it when I don’t think too hard about the photos I take and seeing which ones come out good and which ones don't. It’s always a gamble but it's a safe bet.”

“You’re lucky. I don’t have an artistic bone in my body.” 

He cocks his head. “Maybe not in the way you think you do. Your friends were talking my ear off about how cool you are when it comes to your work. Heeseung told me you’re considering applying for a promotion because of your recent campaigns.” 

You blush and look away from him. “It’s nothing. I don’t think that’s really creative.” 

“You’re amazing, even if you don’t realize it. I think it’s cool that you work so closely with clients and help their vision come to life.” This feels like too kind of a thing for Sunghoon to say after having known you for such a short amount of time, but you can’t deny and say you don’t feel your heart fluttering with every compliment he gives you. 

Instead of responding by stuttering over your words, you drag Sunghoon through the remainder of the market and enjoy multiple warm cups of hot cocoa and try all of the desserts they have to offer. You end up buying a few things for your friends to add to their holiday gifts, even though they’ve been sitting in your bedroom for the past few weeks. Sunghoon reluctantly allows you to cover the lunch bill when you bring up how he bought every beverage and dessert the two of you have tried. He sees you signing the back of the receipt after writing today’s date.

“Why do you do that?” 

You hold the receipt up. “This?” 

“Yeah. Why do you sign it?” 

“I like keeping mementos of things. My fridge is covered in different letters, receipts, and artwork from friends and family. I have an entire box of receipts from important moments that I want to remember. I usually have the people I’m with sign them too and go through the receipts when I feel nostalgic.” 

“Do you think this moment is worth being nostalgic over?” You blush. 

“Yeah, I do.” 

Sunghoon blushes too. “I think that’s really cute, actually.” You slide the pen over to him. 

“Do you want to sign it?” His signature looks like that of a movie star. Even his penmanship is perfect. “There. Now you can look at this receipt when you miss me.” 

“Or I could just knock on your door until you let me in.”

“What says I’ll let you in?” 

“Because I’m the best neighbor you will ever have and even though you say you don’t like Christmas, you have to admit that you’re having fun.” 

Sunghoon smiles at that. “Yeah, you could definitely say that. I might have to come over to your apartment to see this receipt box of yours.” Sunghoon looks at you with a smile that makes you weak in the knees. It feels like you’re the subject of a reality TV show and you’re waiting for the camera crew to come out of their hiding spots and tell you this is all for show, but that never happens. 

“You know where I live,” you say to him coyly, backing away slowly as you throw your trash away. “Knock on my door any time.” 

Sunghoon laughs and you think you’d rather die than never hear it again.

***

You don’t get the chance to see Sunghoon during the week because of your work schedule but find yourself texting him whenever you get the chance. Your evenings are for catching up on TV shows that are halfway completed and messaging him even though he lives across the hallway. He hasn’t made an effort to come over to your apartment and neither have you, but you find yourself making plans with him to go ice skating with him during the following weekend and choose to look forward to that instead of letting your insecurities get the better of you. 

Heeseung asks you for updates and you can’t help but divulge into the whole truth, including every small thing Sunghoon did or said that made you overthink when he dropped you off at your apartment. He’s attentive and teases you every time you get a bit too shy to tell him how much fun you had with Sunghoon but tells you he’s proud that you’re putting yourself out there and making a new friend. Heeseung tells you that he and your other friends have been texting Sunghoon as well and discovered that they share a lot of common interests, and that they’ve got loose plans to see each other for drinks in the future. It warms your heart to know your friends like Sunghoon enough to include him in things, which makes you feel a little crazy considering he isn’t your boyfriend and you’ve officially known him for about three weeks. 

You find yourself standing on ice skates when the weekend approaches and you’re surprised to see that the outdoor rink is empty for a Saturday afternoon. You’re better than the average skater thanks to a childhood interest in figure skating and buying a ticket to the outdoor rink at least once every winter season. Sunghoon tells you he picked it up as a hobby when he was younger but his agility when he glides on the ice tells you he’s better than he claims. 

It’s chilly and your gloves protect your hands from the biting chill. Sunghoon’s alabaster skin looks like it’s glowing underneath the bright sun and his sunglasses make him look like the epitome of cool if you were to look it up in the dictionary. He keeps himself skating fairly close to you but you aren’t sure if that’s because he wants to be in your personal bubble or not. Either way, you sweat underneath your clothes and try to focus on balancing yourself on top of the hard ice. 

Sunghoon paid for your tickets and skate rentals too. He surprised you by signing his name and today’s date on the receipt for your safekeeping, telling you to keep it in your purse so it doesn’t get lost. He said it like it’s a matter-of-fact and not something only you do because you love being nostalgic about happy memories. Your hands shake as you lace up your skates and Sunghoon patiently waits for you to finish putting on the other shoe before taking up space on the ice. That feels warm.  

“I can’t help but like Christmas a little bit more when I’m on the ice.” Sunghoon takes his hands out of his pockets and runs his hand through his hair, and it makes you want to swoon. 

“Why’s that?” 

“Something about it feels like it should be done only in the wintertime. The Christmas music is helping me feel a little more festive anyway.” 

“There used to be a skating rink by my old middle school before it shut down a few years ago. I’d go with my friends as soon as December hit and learn how to skate because the owner saw me beg my parents to let me take lessons, but it was too expensive. She gave them a discount for my first few lessons.” 

“Did you stop skating?” 

“Yeah. They were able to pay for lessons as I advanced because of a bonus my mom received at work and she chose to spend it on me. My dad never cared that much but attended a few of my lessons here and there when my mom couldn’t drive me.”

“Did you compete?” 

“No, it was mostly for fun. I stopped because the financial burden was getting too much. Figure skating is the only thing I regret quitting.” 

“I stopped skating because it got in the way of my studies.” Sunghoon purses his lips. “I wasn’t aiming to go pro, or anything. It was a fun hobby I liked to do after school but my parents said it took up too much of my time because my grades weren’t straight A’s.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

He shrugs. “It’s not like I can’t skate anymore but sometimes it felt like I was being primed to take over their company and I could feel that when I was in high school. Ice skating was my way of trying to tell them that wasn’t the life I wanted, but I don’t think they got the message. I ended up quitting halfway into my sophomore year.”

“Do you miss being on the ice? 

“Sometimes. I competed at local competitions and thought about what my life would’ve looked like if I committed to a professional career, but I decided that wasn’t for me. I wanted to do something creative. Anything different than running a grocery chain.”

You bump Sunghoon’s hip. “Sounds like you’ve found your niche in photography.” 

“Ah, I hope so. I should show you some of the photos I have that aren’t on my wall.”

“Do you have a website or an Instagram for your pictures?” 

“No, but I probably should.” 

“You definitely should. I’ll even be your first follower and tell everyone to follow you.” 

Sunghoon smiles down at you. “How sweet of you.” 

“What happens next? You mentioned that your parents let you come to Seoul for a little while, but what happens after that?” 

His shoulders sulk. “Honestly? I don’t know. I moved into this apartment this past January and they said they’d give me a year to do whatever I want before I take over the business. I’m not so sure that I want to go back.” 

“Does that mean you have to move?” Sunghoon avoids looking at you. 

“Yeah.” 

“Oh.” The silence permeated for a moment. 

“I don’t want to leave, though.” Sunghoon clears his throat and shoves his hands back in his pockets. “I love Seoul and the freedom to do whatever I want. I work at a photography studio part time to pay for myself. I’m lucky that they agreed to pay my rent but that luck’s running out soon because they want me to come back. 

“It’s funny, though. My younger sister’s the one who wants to run this company because she’s studying business operations and loves it. She thrives in this environment and has always been interested in networking with people my parents know. I couldn’t care less about any of that. She has fun at his client parties but all I want to do is hide in a corner.”

“Why won’t they let her take over the business, then?” 

“My parents want to retire soon. They’ve been at it for so long and people are pressuring them to sell the business because everybody who knows them, knows they want out. My sister’s in her last year of university and isn’t ready to take over just yet. They say she needs more experience even though she’s interning with his division until she graduates.”

“So, what? If you take over, what’s she gonna do?” 

“Ideally, she’d be a co-owner the minute she feels ready to do it. But I think the plan for her is to become an assistant and then find another CEO role in another company. My parents don’t really understand that she and I want to switch places because they’re so focused on their retirement. We don’t know how to bargain with them and it’s become a sore point in our relationship.” 

“I’m really sorry, Sunghoon.” 

“My sister and I talk about this every time we see each other and I can tell she’s upset that they aren’t willing to wait out for her. She knows I don’t want this either, but sometimes it feels like she’s barely there whenever I’m with her.”

“It’s like knowing what you want is right in front of you but out of reach.” Sunghoon agrees in a noncommittal hum and you see him look in front of you at the other skaters. 

“I know how much she wants my position and I’d do anything to give it to her. I just need to convince my parents to wait a few years. I don’t mind helping out from time to time like I do now. But I don’t want to become CEO and work in that industry. I want to be a photographer and have my portraits hanging in museums and in people’s living rooms. Is that too much to ask for?” 

“No, it’s not. You’re so passionate when you talk about photography and it’s really endearing.” 

“You think so?” 

“Yeah, I do. It sounds like your sister is passionate about that CEO role as well. I hope the two of you are able to work things out.” 

Sunghoon sighs from beside you. “Me too. My lease is up in the new year and I’ll have to start packing if they don’t agree to wait a few more years until she’s ready. They’re afraid of bringing it outside help because they’d rather keep this in the immediate family.” The thought of knowing Sunghoon might no longer live across from you sends you into a temporary panic. You’ve just gotten to know him and it feels a bit unfair. “But I don’t want to move. I’m happy here.” 

“Are you?” 

He looks at you and smiles. “I am.” 

“I hope you’re able to stay,” you tell him, avoiding eye contact. “I think you’re fun to be around.” 

“Just fun?” Sunghoon teases, bumping his shoulder with yours. “Not charismatic and devastatingly handsome?” 

“No,” you lie, willing the cold air to cool down your warming cheeks. “I would never call you any of those things.” 

“Such a shame. You have an incredibly hot neighbor who’s willing to do all of these Christmas things with you.” You smack his bicep. 

“You’re so annoying.” He laughs. 

“You’ll have to try harder to get rid of me.” 

***

The first time Sunghoon saw you was approximately a week after he moved into his apartment. You were wearing blue Bose headphones and looked so determined to unlock your door that Sunghoon chose to keep to himself and not bother you. He couldn’t help but notice the scowl on your face and how it made the perfect pout etch itself onto your lips. 

Ever since then, he’s seen you nearly every time he’s stepped out of his apartment and starts to wonder if this is fate telling him that he should make the first move and approach you because you’re friendly enough to nod at him when he passes you throughout the building. But he’s always been an introverted person who falters when it comes to meeting new people. Growing up around investors and adults who didn’t care about anything other than the economy didn’t do great for his confidence, especially since finance and business was the last thing he wanted to talk about. 

His sister was always more outgoing than he was. Sunghoon used to stutter when girls talked to him and couldn’t fathom the idea that anybody would be remotely interested in him enough to develop romantic feelings for him. It often felt like his personality mirrored everybody else’s for the fear of disappointing people to the point where Sunghoon had a hard time figuring out who he was when he wasn’t with his family or anybody who knew him as he grew up. 

Leaving his home to live in Seoul was something akin to a breath of fresh air. He loved his university days because it was the first and only time that Sunghoon could be himself without being afraid of what others would think of him. He experienced many ‘firsts’ while he was away from home–first college party, hangovers, and having sex for the first time. His first girlfriend made him realize he wanted more to live than to live the predestined plan that his parents set out for him. He didn’t want to marry someone into his family only for him to become a shell of a human being if he took on a job he didn’t want to do. When his girlfriend encouraged him to follow in his father’s footsteps because of how wealthy and successful he could be, Sunghoon broke it off with her and never looked back. 

Working for his parents was supposed to be a trial run. For the first three years after he graduated, Sunghoon agreed to come back and work at the company as an entry level assistant and work his way to the top. The weight of their expectations hung over his shoulders every time he stepped foot inside of the tall, intimidating building, and the anxiety he felt never really left him. Sunghoon worked himself to the bone every single day and continued dreaming of a life that was anything but his reality until his parents came to him with the proposition of slowly transitioning into an executive role. Suddenly, it felt like Sunghoon was running out of time and he proposed a year off before he would begin that process. 

Now, Sunghoon finds himself walking into your apartment with these lingering thoughts at the forefront because his parents are indirectly pressuring him to move back home. He ignores their calls and voicemails to the best of his ability. Spending time with you and your friends is a welcomed distraction because he doesn’t have to think about his future. The four of you give him space to be whoever he wants to be, and that isn’t something he’s felt in a very long time. 

“Your apartment looks like the inside of your brain,” Sunghoon tells you as he looks at your colorful furniture and the artwork decorating your walls. He lingers by the gargantuan posters of different cocktails framed neatly and the bar cart you keep by the kitchen in case you feel like having a drink or two on the weekend. “It’s so…you. 

“I worked really hard to make it that way. My Pinterest boards can tell you that much.” 

“I like that you’ve incorporated dark green. It’s pretty.” 

“Dark green is my favorite color. I’ve always wanted a space that felt like a home rather than a place I live in. I bought this green velvet couch when I got promoted the first time.” 

Sunghoon caresses the back of the couch. “Soft. I like it.”

“Do you want a drink, or anything?” 

“Are you gonna make me something festive?”

“I subjected you to ice skating and Christmas music that seemed to have four songs on shuffle the entire time. I think I’ll spare you tonight.”

“I’d like to try something new, if you’re up for it.” You light up and Sunghoon thinks he wants to make you look like that more often. He follows you into the kitchen and watches as you wash your hand and bring out every ingredient before turning to face him. 

“Have you ever heard of a hot toddy?” 

“Can’t say that I have. What is it?” 

“It’s an alcoholic drink I used to make with my friends from college when it starts to get cold. It’s whiskey, honey, and lemon dissolved in hot water.” 

“I don’t see how that’s festive,” he teases. 

“Trust the process, Park Sunghoon. First, boil water in a kettle.” 

Sunghoon watches you assemble the drink that is a bit too complicated for him but appreciated the effort you put into it. You tell him about your friends from college and how some of them have moved far away while others are people you see every once in a while. He hears about how you became a crowd pleaser during one particularly cold December night the day before finals and ended up making dozens of hot toddy’s for the people who lived on your dorm floor. You show him a picture of the makeshift tip jar your roommate made you to collect tips from students who wanted to pay you for the drink and went home with enough money to make you forget about finals. 

You tell him that your friends love this drink too, even if they downplay just how much. You hand him your phone and let him scroll through pictures you took of Heeseung and Jake the last time you made the drinks for everybody. They were hanging off of each other after begging you to add in a shot more than necessary every time you made a new cup. Jay helped you set a makeshift bed on the couch and floor for them to sleep off the alcohol and Sunghoon laughs at their less than flattering faces when you smile with two thumbs up as they pass out from the alcohol. 

Sunghoon has deduced that being here feels comfortable. It’s crazy to him that the four of you managed to weasel your way into his life as quickly as you did. He finds himself playing video games with the guys when they come home from work and they add him into their group chat within a few days of knowing him. Sunghoon’s always had a difficult time keeping friends around because he feels too awkward to socialize and feels like he never learned how to make friends around his age because of the environment he grew up in. He takes a picture of you on his camera despite your protests when he feels like words are too much.

Getting to know you has felt like the climax of a romance film. He’s spent so much time pining after you from afar, from thinking about what your favorite foods might be to what kind of music you listened to. You always looked so polished and head strong, something Sunghoon wished he could be. He’d lie to himself and say he’s attracted to you because you give off a sense of self-confidence that he’s never seen in anybody else, which is partially true, but spending time with you has only made him fall for you even harder. 

He’s only known you for a few weeks but it’s felt like he’s known you for a lifetime. Sunghoon tells you things he’s too afraid to tell other people or admit out loud. You bring out a side of him that wants to make a life for himself instead of listening to people who don’t have his best interests in mind. He loves it when you share your interest in Christmas and winter with him because it feels like he gets to know you better and it takes his mind off of his future. Plus, it helps that you look too cute when you start to get excited about things. Sunghoon can’t bear to be the reason why you would ever cease to feel like that. 

The more the two of you sip on the warm alcoholic cocktail, the more Sunghoon feels his shoulders start to relax. Whether it’s because he hasn’t eaten anything in a while or because you’re giving him butterflies, he doesn’t know. He hasn’t told anybody about you because he doesn’t know who he’d tell and he can’t believe he’s standing in your apartment making conversation with you. You laugh at his jokes and give him a tour of your place as he sips on his drink, and the warmth spreads throughout his chest. Suddenly his sweater feels too hot. 

You let him inside of your bedroom and it’s neat, with keepsakes lining your shelves and books on your walls. You’ve got a few floating bookshelves he admires and gawks at because he thinks it makes your room look that much cooler. You’ve got a few pictures of yourself, friends, and family along your desk and a makeup vanity with an impressive mirror on it. Everything in your room feels like it has a place and a reason to be there and Sunghoon can’t help but feel privileged that you’re letting him inside, like he’s supposed to be there too. 

“Is this your box of receipts?” he asks when he sees a small box without a lid on it. There are dozens of receipts haphazardly lying in there and he takes one out when you nod at him. There’s a receipt for a late night doughnut run, a printed copy of the receipt from the couch in your living room, and your first trip to the doctor. He digs to see if he can find the one from the market. “Where’s the receipt from when we went to the market?” 

You point at the board above your desk filled with pictures and other receipts too. Sunghoon looks at it and spots your handwriting and his next to a picture of you as a child. It makes his heart melt a little bit. 

“I like to keep really good memories up here.” 

Sunghoon feels like he could cry. “I’m really happy you had a fun time. I did too, but I didn’t want to come off as weird and tell you that.” 

“I don’t think it’s weird at all. If anything, I didn’t want to come off as too eager to hang out with you when we got back home.”

“Is this a good time for me to confess that I wanted to hang out with you instead of parting ways?” You look away from him to hide your smile and he can’t help but feel his heart skip a beat. 

“Now you’re just buttering me up,” you say in lieu of an answer. You stand impossibly close to him while he looks at the pictures on the board. 

“You were such a cute kid.” 

“I was cuter when I wore pigtails and when I was missing my two front teeth, that’s for sure.” 

“I think you’re doing fine just now.” 

You blush again. “Okay, you’re definitely trying to make me flustered.” 

“Is it working?” Sunghoon grins when you hide your face in his arm. “I’ll take that as a yes.” 

“Anyway!” You pull yourself off of him and close the receipt box while he laughs behind you. “That’s enough of that.”

“It’s getting late and I think you put too much whiskey in this.” Sunghoon looks at you with another teasing grin but he’s starting to like catching you off guard like this. 

“I’m not listening to anything you say because you said it was just enough.” Even your faux pout is cute. “Thanks for going ice skating with me.”

“Thanks for making this for me.” He holds up his empty cup and you lead him to the kitchen. He offers to wash your dishes for you but you decline and forcibly lead him to the front door when he starts to protest. The exhaustion from today has started to tire him out and his eyes begin to droop when he steps outside. 

“Goodnight, Sunghoon. Thank you for today.” You look up at him with an expression he can’t read. 

“I had a lot of fun. I mean it. You might change my mind about Christmas after all.” 

“There’s nothing I can’t do, Hoonie.” He blushes at the nickname. “Text me when you’re home, okay?”

He snorts. “Sure thing. I’ll be sure to text you in five seconds after I lock my door.” 

“Good. Who knows? This is a big hallway. Maybe you’d drip and fall a few steps into your journey.” Sunghoon thinks you’re too cute when you’re coy like this. 

“I’ll even text you when I’m tucked in bed so you know I made it safely.” 

The last thing he expects you to do is kiss his cheek. He feels your lips on his skin and his entire body becomes frigid, like he suddenly forgot how to breathe. Sunghoon thinks he might trip on his way back to his apartment at this rate. 

“Goodnight, Hoonie. Text me when you’re home.”

***

You don’t get the chance to spend any time with Sunghoon for the next couple of weeks because your work leaves you too tired to do anything outside of your apartment since it requires a few hours during your weekends. Sunghoon seems to understand and doesn’t push you to go out with him too much. Part of you wants to invite him over to your place for something casual, but your tendency to overthink prevents you from putting that offer on the table. 

Heeseung can tell you’re overwhelmed when he sees you. You hide yourself away in the confines of your office and don’t make conversation with him like you typically would. The start of the holidays mark a tumultuous time for you and he knows that better than anybody else. He can’t help but be a little concerned when you don’t join him for lunch like you typically do if meetings don’t interfere. When he sees you eating at your desk with a pathetic looking sandwich with a single bite taken out of it, he walks into your office without knocking and replaces his lunch with yours. 

“Don’t even think about scolding me for coming here unannounced.” Heeseung gestures at your desk. “Eat.” 

“You don’t deserve to eat a poorly made sandwich.” 

“Oh, and you do?” 

You groan. “No. But I was in a rush and forgot to pack a lunch last night.” 

“What’s going on? I’ve never seen you like this.” 

“My mom keeps asking me if I’m going to come home and I feel so guilty that I keep dodging it. I know she means well, but that’s what makes it worse. She keeps telling me she wants to have one weekend with me for Christmas, even if it isn’t on the actual holiday because she hasn’t seen me in a while. 

“I feel like I’m disappointing her, you know? It’s hard to leave the bubble I’ve created for myself because I know I have to face all of the bullshit I faced with my dad when I go back. It feels like I become the teenage version of myself who couldn’t express her feelings and kept everything bottled up inside. I want to forget all of that. I don’t want to be that kind of person anymore.” 

“Do you want to go?” 

“I do, but I can’t bring myself to actually buy a train ticket. I want to go home and not feel this contempt but I can’t help it. I hate it there. I hate walking through the hallways because I can hear his footsteps and the way he used to yell at me when I did something wrong. I can’t escape these feelings when winter starts. I mean, you know me. The holidays only became what it is because I try not to think about how fucking awful it used to be.” 

“You can’t run from everything forever, though.” Heeseung looks at you like he’s trying to drill his words into your head. “You’ve already done the work to push past it.”

“I know, but it’s hard to be in a place that feels like an empty home. I’m so nostalgic for everything I loved as a kid but it gets tainted when I think about my dad and how hard it was for my mom to raise me by herself. All I can think about is how I felt when I couldn’t do anything to save myself. But on the other hand, I feel so guilty for missing him too. He had his moments and I try to think about that instead of thinking about the bad ones. He’s not here to make me feel like I have to watch my back, but why does it feel like I still have to?”

“You’ve been through a lot and you have to understand that the average person doesn’t go through a lifetime of pain and trauma before they turn twenty-one. It feels like you’re stuck because there aren’t many people who can relate to you.”

You sigh. “I guess so. It feels lonely and isolating. It doesn’t matter how many times I open up to a therapist about it either. It always feels like I’m running so fast that I end up tripping over myself.” 

“So, what are you gonna do about it? Sit here and mope or make a decision?”

“It’s not that easy.”

“It is, though. You’re somebody who hates waiting around for people to save you. The only way to resolve anything is to pick a decision and stick with it until the end. If you regret it, at least you can say you tried.” 

“It’s really hard to self sabotage when I’m friends with you.” 

Heeseung laughs at that. “I know. I won’t let you do that either.” 

“I think I mostly feel bothersome for always talking about the same old problem to you.” 

“It doesn’t bother me. I care about you and you clearly need to talk to somebody who knows you inside and out. I’ve seen how difficult it is for you to open up and the fact that you’ve grown so close with Sunghoon in a short amount of time is incredible to me.” 

You groan and slump over your desk. “Don’t remind me. I haven’t properly seen him in weeks and feel awful that I have no energy to hang out whenever he asks me to. I hope he doesn’t think I’m ghosting him.”

“He doesn’t.” 

“How could you possibly know that?” Heeseung pulls out his phone and lets you glance over his texts with Sunghoon. 

“He asked if you were okay a while back and said he was worried since you kept declining to go out. His first thought was that you might’ve been sick or burned out, not that you were ghosting him.”

“Burned out is definitely the right answer.” 

Heeseung smiles at his phone. “Hoon was worried that he was coming off too strong by texting you so much. I told him you’d probably appreciate hearing from him more than giving you space.”

“Since when do you call him ‘Hoon’?”

“We’re close like that.” 

“That makes me nervous.” 

“I’ll be sure to divulge your crush on him while we hang out tonight.” You throw the cap of a pen at his chest. “He said he missed you, though.” 

“I miss him.” You groan a little too loudly for your liking. “I haven’t had any energy these last couple of weeks and I’ve been overthinking the hell out of kissing his cheek when I last saw him.”

“Sorry, you did what?!” 

“I kissed his cheek when he left my apartment and I can’t tell if I regret it or not.” 

“Dude, Sunghoon is clearly not weirded out by that,” Heeseung says like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “He wouldn’t be checking in with me about your mental state if he thought it was weird.” 

“Are you sure?” 

“Positive. You don’t have to do anything crazy with him either. I get the feeling he’s the type of guy who’d appreciate doing anything as long as it’s with people he enjoys being around. He’d probably enjoy it if you two stayed in and watched movies.” 

“I can do that.” You pull your phone out and search for his contact. “I could do a movie and takeout.” 

“See? There's nothing to be worried about. You’re just stressed out about going home. Take it one day at a time.”

Sunghoon agrees to have a quiet night in when the weekend approaches and you find yourself sitting in his living room instead of your own. He tells you to come over in your pajamas with your worries left at his doorstep and asks you to let him take care of everything, including ordering takeout and paying for it. He tells you he’s up for watching a Christmas movie, but you’ve had your fill and the two of you decide to watch reruns of Community on Netflix as a way to relax through laughter and comedy. 

“I’m sorry that you’ve had a rough couple of weeks,” he says as he sits next to you on the couch. He’s encouraged you to put your feet up and sit however you’d like, and crossing your legs feels like a respectable position. He sits at a short distance from you, far enough that you aren’t touching but close enough that you can feel the warmth radiate off of him. 

“It’s that time of year. Everybody wants answers but nobody is willing to put in the work. It gets like this every December because everybody’s trying to finish strong before winter break.” 

“Still though, the guys made it seem like this was an everyday occurrence for you and seeing you so tired made me worried.” Your heart skips a beat. 

“Ah, well…my friends know I can push through anything. Jay’s the one who understands me the most when I get like this. I’ve been getting better at asking for help and they know I’ll come to them if I need to.”

“What about when you don’t?”

“Don’t what?”

“Ask for help?”

You turn to look at him. “I guess they force me to open up until I get annoyed and tell them to leave me alone. But that usually doesn’t last very long and I cave in since they never seem to listen to me anyway.” 

“I’ll keep that in mind for the future.” Sunghoon takes a small handful of the popcorn sitting on the coffee table and shoves it in his mouth. “You have good friends and I can tell they love you.”

“I owe them a lot, if I’m being honest. Sometimes it feels like I don’t do enough for them.” 

“You must be a good friend if they care about you that much, too. Don’t sell yourself short.” Sunghoon seems to see you in ways you can barely see yourself and his constant reminders always leave you speechless. 

“How’ve you been? How’s your photography class and work?”

“My classes wrapped up last week. It was bittersweet. I love my instructor and I’m sad that he and I are parting ways, but he’s taught me a lot that I’ll definitely remember when I pick up a camera. Work is fine as well, it’s getting a little busy because of the holidays but it’s nothing I can’t manage. They know about the situation with my parents so we’re trying to take it as it comes.” 

“Have you resolved that?” 

Sunghoon shakes his head. “Not yet…It feels like they don’t get it at all.” 

“I’m really sorry, Hoonie.” 

“It is what it is. I’ll miss Seoul a lot for more reasons than one.” He looks at you and your heart skips another beat. 

“Living here won’t be the same without running into you, I’ll tell you that much.”

“I’ll cherish those moments forever,” he teases. “I don’t know what I’m going to do but I’m going to try to convince them to hold off on retiring for a few years. I talked to our landlord and managed to negotiate one more month when I told him about what’s happening. I have enough to pay for that and I’m a little shocked that he agreed.” 

“Must be a Christmas miracle.” He looks at you with an unreadable expression. 

“Maybe. Have you decided if you’re going back home or not?”

You pick at your fingers. “I’m still on the fence about it. She called me yesterday and slipped that question in halfway through the conversation. I can tell she’s empathetic about it, though. She knows how hard it is for me to be back home with everything that happened with my dad. Part of me wants to go because I miss her, but I can’t bring myself to do it. Train tickets are probably too expensive anyway.”

“I’ll drive you.” 

You turn to face him. “Sunghoon, it’s a two hour drive.”

“And?”

“I’m not making you drive two hours to my house and two hours back to Seoul.” He looks at you like this is the easiest decision he’s ever had to make. 

“You’re not forcing me to do anything. I want to. This has been weighing on your mind for a long time and I don’t want you to miss out on spending the holidays with your mom just because of how much a ticket would cost to get you there.”

“Sunghoon–”

“It’s no sweat off of my back. I’m serious about it. I don’t have classes anymore and my work schedule is flexible. Plus, I think it could be cute to see where you grew up.” 

“That’s…Really sweet of you.” Sunghoon turns to look at you too and smiles with those plush lips you think about kissing a little too much. You try to reel it in because he’s your friend and that’s what friends do, right? 

“You’ve done a lot for me. The least I could do is drive you home.” 

You don’t say anything. You can’t say anything. Sunghoon sees you from the corner of his eye as you turn back to face the TV, and he watches you try to hide a smile. He turns away and feels his own cheeks flush at the thought of seeing you in your hometown, even if it’s for a short while. Above all, Sunghoon wants this Christmas to feel like it’s the best one you’ve ever had on the account that you’ve made Seoul feel like home for him. 

The night progresses and you switch to a movie halfway through the night until you yawn. Sunghoon grabs a blanket and puts it over the both of you instead of suggesting you go back to your apartment. Somehow, this gesture feels kinder than anything anybody has ever done for you. 

You’re both acutely aware of how close your bodies are because of the blanket but neither of you care all that much. Your shoulder keeps bumping into his every time you move and eat the popcorn he’s provided, and Sunghoon silently wishes that he could pull your body against his once and for all. He doesn’t, choosing to savor the way your side touches him instead of doing anything that might make you uncomfortable. But somewhere in your tired stupor, you put your head on his shoulder and yawn. 

“Thank you everything,” you say quietly. “You don’t know how much it means to me that you’d drive me home.”

“I’d do anything for you.” Sunghoon says it a bit too quickly but he doesn’t regret telling you that. 

“I wish I could repay you.”

“Being here is enough. Can I try something?” 

When you nod, Sunghoon maneuvers himself so that his back rests against the arm of the couch with his body spread across the cushions without disrupting you too much. You don’t fight against him when he scoops you into his arms and places your head on his chest. You feel his heartbeat in this position. It’s slow and melodic, unlike your fantasies of hoping the cute guy next door would have a rapid heart rate every time he saw you. But you think you like this better; Sunghoon seems to be comfortable around you. 

For the fear of touching you too much, Sunghoon keeps his hands by his side and pulls them away when he realizes he’s touching your exposed skin. You let go of every thought telling you to run away and grab his arms to wrap them around your own body, nuzzling your way close to his with your eyes closed in contentment. 

In lieu of saying goodnight, you kiss his chest and Sunghoon thinks he might be on cloud nine.

***

In the time between telling your mother you’d be home for a couple of days over the weekend to arriving at her doorstep, your friends have expressed their happiness in your decision. Jake couldn’t help but feel emotional when you told him and you get the feeling that Jay always knew the decision you’d make. Heeseung chose to forego teasing you out of solidarity for this vulnerable moment and wishes you all the best. However, all three of them did not hold back in telling you every joke in the book when you told them Sunghoon was dropping you off and picking you up. 

Sunghoon drives seamlessly and you silently thank him for it because approaching the familiar quietness of your neighborhood makes you feel somewhat uneasy. Your stomach turns in flips when you see that same house you used to look up at whenever you’d come home from school. It’s still jarring to see that only your mom’s car is parked on the street with your father’s car nowhere to be seen. It’s a physical reminder that he isn’t here and you don’t know if you’re relieved or not. She greets you the moment Sunghoon parks his car and the feeling of melting into her arms is indescribable. 

“I missed you,” she whispers into your hair. “It’s been so long.”

“I know, Eomma. I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t be. You’re here now and that’s all I care about. You’re Sunghoon, right?” He turns to look at you as he pulls your duffle bag out of his car and bows at a full ninety degrees for just a second too long. She finds it amusing and tells him so when he stands up. 

“Pleasure to meet you. She has great things to say about you.”

“Oh, trust me. She has good things to say about you too.”

“Okay!” You clap your hands and grab the bag from Sunghoon, turning your body away from him. “I think we’ve had a long car ride and can find literally anything else to talk about.” 

“I should get going before traffic gets bad. It was nice to meet you.”

“Come in for some tea!” 

She doesn’t give him the chance to respond but he doesn’t seem to mind. Sunghoon takes off his shoes and leaves them in the corner as your mom presents the two of you with a freshly brewed pot that reminds you of your childhood. The interior looks the same as it has since you last visited and that big family portrait still hangs above the couch in the living room. Your father smiles back at you like he’s happy you’re here. 

Sunghoon chooses to remain quiet as he drinks his tea to give you and your mom some time to catch up. He feels a bit awkward in a stranger’s home when this trip was supposed to be about you and your family, but he can’t say he isn’t pleased when the warmth of the tea starts to settle in his chest. Photos of you from your childhood line the walls and he can’t help but comment about how adorable you look in pink bows and frilly dresses. You look as cute then as you do now, but that’s something he will never tell you. 

Your mom brings out a small booklet of photos from your past, too. You try to prevent her from showing Sunghoon but he laughs it off and sits with pictures of you from elementary school in his hands. He tries not to let it show that his hands are shaking because you let your chin rest on his shoulder as you peer over him. He can feel your warm breath on his neck and it sends him into a short spiral until you’re scooping up the book and handing it back to your mom with a bashful smile on your face. 

He can see that you’re trying your best not to feel like that same, awkward mess of a teenage girl when your mother tells him stories about you from childhood. She tells him about the first time you performed in a dance recital and how you were center stage only to accidentally trip on your shoelaces that nearly sent you flying into the audience. She tells him about your first overseas vacation to Disney World in Florida because it was the first time you learned you hated humidity and people who didn’t know how to drive. 

With every hour that passes by, Sunghoon starts to think he understands you better. He knows you to be somebody who’s independent and confident, but the idea that you had to work hard towards it was lost on him until he came to visit your hometown. He understands why you felt so trapped here between your mother’s rants about how difficult your dad was to the limited opportunities for you to thrive. She tells him a bit about how you were emotionally unavailable in your teenage years despite your protests (as mothers tend to do), but she finishes her thought by telling Sunghoon how she’s always thought you were destined for things greater than what a small fishing town could ever offer you. He pretends like he’s got allergies when he feels his eyes watering up. 

Sunghoon asks to stretch his legs and by the time the night approaches, he’s agreed to stay over and spend more time visiting your favorite places and where you grew up. Your mom tells him not to feel like he’s intruding, as she rarely gets to spend time with anybody in your life, and he decides that this little vacation might be good for him. He offers to pay for dinner and he thinks he’s gained some approval for that. 

Time passes by too quickly for his liking. You’ve taken him everywhere you can think of–your old ice skating rink, your favorite boba shop, the schools you’ve attended–but it still feels like he’s barely scratched the surface of getting to know you before adulthood. He loves that you’re so open about yourself in a way that he’s never been able to. You talk his ear off about drama that you haven’t thought about in decades and he listens and feels several different emotions on your behalf despite not knowing anybody you’re talking about. He parks his car in the parking lot of your high school and the two of you spend an hour eating takeout from your favorite sandwich shop and gossipping about the entire town just for the two of you to hear. 

You talk about your dad on occasion and he doesn’t pry you to talk about it either. Sunghoon hears the melancholy in your voice when you think about old memories and missing him in ways you’ve never been able to experience before. You tell him that it’s been four years since you lost yourself. You also tell him that you don’t want to live the kind of life where you’re held back by his opinion anymore. He’s here in the walls and all over town, and the weight of missing him doesn’t feel like a burden anymore. It feels like a step towards freedom to be who you are, free from the anchors that kept you sheltered. Sunghoon knows your mother must be proud of you for making this decision because he sees it in her smile when she watches you laugh.

He decides he wants this kind of life; Sunghoon wants to be supported by his family when it comes to what he wants to do with his life. He wishes his parents believed in him as much as your mother believes in you. Seeing her so open and welcoming to a complete stranger and bragging about your accomplishments to him makes Sunghoon yearn for that kind of unconditional love too. Even in the moments when you get quiet over unpleasant memories that seem to resurface from coming back home, it seems that she helps you through it and doesn’t shame you for feeling the way that you do. It’s something Sunghoon desperately wishes he could do instead of entertaining conversations about taking over his family’s business. 

If there’s one thing you’ve taught Sunghoon, it’s that he can fall as many times as he wants so long as he chooses to get back up again. He’s come to love how open you are when it comes to people and experiences because he’s starting to understand just how difficult your childhood was until you found your footing in Seoul. Being alone meant exploring who you were without the opinions of people who wanted to hold you back. Even if people gave you reasons to shun the world and expect apologies from everybody under the sun, you hold your chin up with dignity and choose to move on instead of dwelling on people and things that don't matter. He wishes he could be like that too.

“Are you happy?” 

Sunghoon stares at your ceiling in your childhood bed when he asks you that. He’s a bit surprised that he’s allowed to be here at all and offered to take the couch, but your mother said the two of you are adults and don’t need her permission. The two of you were blushing messes when she left you alone to unpack your clothes while she gave him an extra toothbrush and old clothes from her brother who left them at her place. Both of you decided that it would be too awkward to try to not cuddle on your surprisingly comfortable twin bed and he chooses to use this as an excuse to touch you. He hasn’t heard a complaint from you and the feeling of your body wrapped up in his is exhilarating.

“I am, yeah. This weekend was a lot better than I thought it would be.”

“But are you happy with your life? Are you happy with yourself?” You push yourself off his body and look down at him.

“Where’s this coming from?” 

“I kept thinking about my life and my parents for the past couple of days. Your mom’s sweet and I can tell she believes in you whenever she tells me about your life here. It sounds like she did her best to raise you between work and your dad, and I can never imagine how stressful your childhood must've been with him in the house. I see how much you’ve grown from everything. It’s inspiring.”

“I don’t know if inspiring is the right word. I think I was dealt with shitty cards and expected an apology from the world without realizing that I had to work on myself in order to receive it.”

“That’s the thing, though. I can see that you’ve put in the work to become a better person. My parents aren’t as supportive as your mom and I kept thinking to myself: ‘Do I want to go through with a life that’s already planned for me when I know I’ll be unhappy?’”

Sunghoon looks up at you when he feels you brush his hair from his eyes. He can’t really tell what you’re thinking about as you look all over his face but the gentle touch of your fingertips puts him at ease as his mind begin to race. 

“I am happy. There are moments where I feel like the world is crumbling around me, but I know tomorrow is around the corner. I used to think that there wouldn’t be people out there who would ever believe all of the things I went through, but meeting the guys and making a life for myself makes me think otherwise. I’m happier because of it.” 

“That makes me feel hopeful.”

“Does it?” 

He nods and closes his eyes when your fingertip draws an invisible pathway across his cheek and down the bridge of his nose. You get dangerously close to his lips but your hand merely cups his jaw and your simple, gentle touch is enough for Sunghoon to realize he’s fallen far too hard to give up on his future, especially if you’re in it. 

“Yes,” he says in a whisper. “You make me feel like I could do anything if I try hard enough.” 

Sunghoon stares at you like you’ve hung up every star in the galaxy for him to see. When he looks at you, everything he’s been too afraid to say comes bubbling to the surface and his life beyond today becomes as clear as day. He wants to wake up next to you every morning and listen to your childhood stories until you run out of breath. He wants to spend every Christmas with you and fill your memory box with as many receipts with his signature on it. There is no future without you in it. 

You kiss him so tenderly that Sunghoon thinks he might be imagining things. Your palm is warm to the touch and he’s quick to react, pulling your body closer to his while his arms enclose your body against him. Sunghoon doesn’t know how many nights he’s spent imagining what your lips taste like or the way you sound with his mouth on yours, but nothing could ever compare to the real thing. 

He maneuvers you onto his lap because of the limited space on your twin bed and his body feels like it’s set ablaze when the back of your thighs touch his lap. You’re wearing thin shorts and an oversized shirt while he’s wearing clean basketball shorts from his car and a shirt your mom let him borrow. He feels your breasts push against his muscular chest as you lean against him for support and tilt your head to capture his mouth like you’re trying to taste all of him at once, and Sunghoon thinks he likes it when you’re desperate for him too. 

The weight of your body on his lap inevitably makes him hard and the quiet gasp into his mouth makes Sunghoon buck himself up into you. You grip onto his shoulders and dig push him back down onto the mattress to keep yourself steady and he’s about to apologize for crossing a boundary until you grind yourself onto him too. You tug at the hem of his shirt and he complies, taking it off in one fell swoop. 

“You’re really hot, you know that?” 

“Would you believe me if I told you I work out for you?”

“Not even a little bit.” Sunghoon laughs as he pulls your shirt off of your body delicately, cupping your breasts in his hands as he gives them a soft squeeze. 

“You’re perfect,” he whispers. “So perfect.” 

He’s hard underneath you, so much so that you feel him through your thin sleeping shorts. His cock is situated between your folds and every small movement you make is enough to make him feel like he’s losing his mind. Sunghoon holds your breasts in his hands as you push yourself off of his lap just to sink your weight back down. He gives your nipples a squeeze periodically and he makes a mental note when you throw your head back and moan. 

“I’m so wet,” you whisper when you sit upright, your hips continuing to grind against him. The way your voice cracks makes him feel better about being desperate to feel you. “This feels so good, Hoonie. But we can’t. My mom’s down the hall.” 

“Do you trust me?” 

Seeing you nod is enough for him. Sunghoon’s thankful your mattress isn’t loud or bumping against the wall. He temporarily pulls you off of his body to kick off his shorts and feels a bit shy when you stare at how big and hard he is through his boxers. You push your lap back down onto his and he refrains from moaning too loud, silencing himself by pulling your lips down to his by your neck. His hands wander to your ass as you feel his toned chest and abdomen too. He pushes and pulls your body over his cock and moves his lips to kiss up your jawline. 

“I wish I could fuck you properly like you deserve,” he says, leaving a wet trail of kisses on your skin. 

“I want that too.” 

“I’d worship every inch of you.” He uses his hands to press you against his lap until you bite back a moan. “I want to know what you feel like.”

“Fuck.”

“Cute.” 

He kisses your chin and wraps his arms around your lower back to keep you in place before thrusting his hips up to meet yours. Sunghoon catches you by surprise and you bite his shoulder to keep yourself from moaning too loud every time his clothed cock bumps against your clit. He’s so warm underneath you and this kind of touch is one that you’ve been craving longer than you’d like to admit. 

The passion is short lived and the two of you don’t care how quick it takes the two of you to come undone in the quiet of your bedroom. He kisses you and tries to swallow the sound of your lips smacking against one another, too afraid that one wrong move could make your mother distrust him. Sunghoon’s kisses make you dizzy but you cling onto him like he’s your lifeline until your high ebbs away, and the two of you clean up before getting a well deserved, good night’s rest. 

***

Sunghoon can barely keep his hands off of you when the two of you arrive back to your apartment. He tells you to come back to his place and have a cup of tea with him before you part ways and you agree. The entire car ride home made you feel like you might as well be living in one of your daydreams because he didn’t mind it when you pulled one of his hands from the steering wheel to hold it the entire drive back. He’d switch from holding your thigh to kissing the back of your hand every time you changed the music. The two of you sang your hearts out to pop songs from the 2000s and pretended to perform in front of an audience when dramatic ballads came on shuffle.

Things fall into place on the ride back. You decide to pursue a promotion when it opens in the new year and text your friends to tell them you’re safe and with Sunghoon. They make you promise to tell them all about this past weekend and try to get you to reveal your presents, but you refuse and include Sunghoon in all of the jokes they tell you in your group chat before they ask if he wants to be added into the main one. In every sense of the word, it felt like the two of you found a home in each other. 

He lets you change into fresh clothes and shower before you knock on his apartment. Sunghoon feels his heartbeat picking up when you show up in a tank top and shorts with no bra on, and he feels a bit like a teenage boy seeing a girl semi-naked for the first time. The two of you talk about your trip and the next festive thing you’ll do when he feels himself starting to get worked up. All Sunghoon can think about was keeping his promise to you when he made you orgasm through your panties. He wants you to know that he loves you, so he decides to tell you that when you stand up to put your mug in his sink.

“I love you. I’m telling you right now that I’d do anything you asked me to.” 

Sunghoon squeezes your hips with his fingers like he’s trying to convey what he says through his touch. His breath is warm as it fans against your lips and the heat of his apartment makes your cheeks and neck warm up from where you stand. He breathes heavily, as if his confession carries a great deal of weight to it. Every word he speaks drips with honesty and the loyalty behind it scares you. 

And yet, you can’t bring it in yourself to pull away when he kisses you. 

His soft, pillowy lips approach your own with caution. You feel him hover above you until he’s ghosting his mouth against yours as if you’re a magnet he can no longer resist. Sunghoon’s lips descend upon your own and he holds your body tightly against him like he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he lets go. 

You both move like two slow dancers, swaying to the silent melody only audible by those who pay close enough attention. It’s at this moment you understand why poets and romantics speak of a hidden language only two lovers know. Sunghoon’s confession strengthens the feelings you’ve harbored for him and something about the way he touches you makes you feel like you can let go of your inhibitions. He’s brought your eagerness bubbling to the surface and you find that the harder you try to ignore your love for him, the louder your heart beats inside of your chest. 

You can’t help but think about how perfectly you slot against Sunghoon when you wrap your arms around his neck. He squeezes your hips the more you push into him and kisses you like he’s trying to commit the way your lips feel to memory. All of your worries melt into the floor the moment Sunghoon pulls away to look at your face under the ambient lighting and his gentle touch brushes your hair out of your face. His delicate thumbs come to cup your jawline and rub the apples of your cheeks as if you were made of something breakable. Sunghoon looks at you like this with the kind of gaze that can only be described as fondness. He looks at you with an accumulation of his feelings and desires of being wanted for who he is, not who he’s supposed to be. 

When Sunghoon looks at you, what he sees before him is a strong girl who braves the toughest weather in a tiny row boat with nothing but her wits and a single paddle. It’s your intelligence and patience that steers you away from the turbulent waters. You’re a beacon that lights a dark tunnel and deep down, Sunghoon knows that you’re his guiding light that’ll lead him home. It was your charm and passion that drew him in, and it’s your resilience and willpower that makes him want to stay. 

“I am nothing without you.” Sunghoon kisses both of your cheeks and his warm lips feel like comforting reminders that he’ll always be with you. 

“Hoonie…”

“What is it?” 

“Kiss me.” 

He does, with a slow pass at your lips while his hands cradle your cheeks in his hands and the tenderness of his touch feels something akin to puzzle pieces falling into place. The feeling is intense and overwhelming the more you drink in Sunghoon’s words to you and in this very moment, you allow yourself to believe he means what he says. Your hands find perch on his wrists as you grip onto him to anchor yourself. Sunghoon keeps kissing you as he puts one hand behind your head while the other moves to your upper back. He’s got you, even when you fall onto the mattress behind you when he dips your body backwards. 

Sunghoon hovers above your body and cages you underneath him as his warm mouth pushes against you rougher than before. He squeezes your hip until both legs are wide open enough for him to slot his body between them. It’s like he can’t get enough of the way you feel against his body because he finally has you exactly where he wants you. Sunghoon’s heart beats loudly in his chest that he feels the vibrations in his ears the more he listens to the way you two kiss, paired with your hands pushing up his shirt. Your fingernails rake down his abdomen and it leaves him a panting mess while he sucks in his stomach at the intense feeling. Sunghoon pushes a quiet moan against your mouth and you drink it up like it’s water. 

“I want to see you.” 

You whisper your incantation against his lips and the desperation in your voice enchants him. Sunghoon moves his fingertips to the hem of his shirt and briefly disconnects your mouth to pull it over his body completely before coming back down to kiss you again. He feels your hands spread across his shoulders and arms, squeezing his biceps while you moan at their firmness. They touch his chest and down to his sculpted abdomen when he jolts and he emits that same, breathy moan from before. 

Sunghoon chases your lips when you push his chest away from you and it takes two tries until he’s pulling his body back. The way you look underneath him does not compare to when he dreams of you like this. You’re breathtaking and alluring with your hair fanned out and lips wet and swollen from his kiss. He loves the way you look at him like he’s your consolation prize for befriending him all that time ago, and Sunghoon thinks he loves the feeling of you looking at his body like you’re a step from objectifying him. It feels like you’re finally taking what you want without hesitating to, like you’re not ashamed of feeling so intensely about him. That guard you keep up, the one placed there in protection against those who have the intention of abandoning you, has vanished only for him.

“Touch me.” 

His baritone command rings in your head while your hand spreads across his abdomen. Your fingers feel every hard ridge and the way he constricts his stomach underneath your touch. Sunghoon holds your hand underneath his to pull it up to his neck and guides you down his body as if he wants you to memorize what he feels like too. Somewhere between his parted lips and intense eye contact is when you realize your sanity is nowhere to be found, and it seems like he can tell because he feels the way your legs squeeze him. 

“I want you to see me too.” 

His fingers lift the hem of your shirt. “Can I take this off?”

When you nod, his fingers begin to tremble the higher the fabric travels up your body. Your skin is warm and soft underneath his tongue and he’s afraid that he’ll forget what you look like if his eyes stray from you. He pushes your top until he sees your deep green bra that hides your chest from him and pushes your back into an arch for him to unhook the fabric without much of a fuss. 

He doesn’t know where to look first. The bra is thrown haphazardly beside him and you can’t bring yourself to care about where it is on his bedroom floor. Instead, his hands cup your breasts and his fingers give a light squeeze as if to experiment with them. Sunghoon’s eyes gloss over your body and his mouth parts in astonishment the more he soaks your image in. He brings the pads of his thumbs to rub your nipples that have grown hard and sensitive since he pushed you onto the bed. 

Slowly, he descends. His warm mouth wraps around your left nipple with a tantalizing slowness that makes you feel like time is frozen around the two of you. Your heart drums in your chest at his merciful tongue that experimentally licks your nub. Sunghoon’s eyes dart up to look at you and drink in every reaction from his movements, and when he feels your chest arch into him upon sucking his mouth around your nipple, he brings his hand to the other and pinches it until you yelp. 

He flattens his tongue to lick you up before moving his head to switch to your other nipple, pressing a wet kiss to the valley between your breasts before attaching himself back onto you. The spot where his lips touched you blooms underneath your skin and sends a soft buzz all over your body. It’s hard to focus on his mouth when you feel overwhelmed in the best way possible. 

“So soft.” Sunghoon mutters in the quiet silence apart from your quiet pants and his mouth working your nipple. He grips your breasts and pushes them together as if to admire your naked chest with you watching him. 

“Hoonie—”

“I need to taste you.” He licks between both nipples and speaks as if he’s read your mind just by looking at you. “Can I? Please?” 

To be yearned like this feels like it could’ve been a blessing from above. Sunghoon looks at you with determination when you nod and you watch him sink further down your body with his hands following in his wake. In the quiet of his room, the bedsheets rustle underneath you when he beckons you to sit back against the pillows at the top of his bed. His warm and heavy breaths touch your thighs when he hooks his fingers around your shorts and pulls them down along with your panties. He hums when he pulls them off of you completely and looks directly between your legs, bringing both of his palms to feel your smooth legs until they come to grip your inner thighs. 

His electric touch is a spark you cannot seem to run away from. You feel completely frozen underneath his stare but you can’t bring yourself to shy away from his touch or sink deeper within yourself. Something about the man before you brings out the desires and needs you keep locked away, tucked inside the smallest cupboard in the back of your mind with the key long gone. But somehow, Sunghoon has paved his own way and brought you to your knees with a single kiss.

Sunghoon kisses your inner thighs, his pillowy lips leaving traces of cool spit onto your hot skin. His slow, soft pace is the kind of patience you wish for yourself. You love how kind and gentle he is when he’s with you and he never pushes you farther than your own capacity. He lets you set the tone and lead him wherever you choose to go, and his delicate touches with your body completely bare before him makes you think love and sex can be just as powerful as everyone says it is. When Sunghoon’s mouth comes to pass your core, he kisses the middle of your slit and savors the way your lap moves against him. 

“You feel so good.” He mutters against your other thigh like he’s saying a prayer. “So pliant for me.” Sunghoon nips at the juncture and smiles to himself when you gasp before returning to your mound, his left hand caressing your thigh while his other brings his thumb to knick at your hardened, aroused nub. 

“Sunghoon, I can’t…”

“Can’t what, baby?” 

“I can’t wait anymore.” When Sunghoon looks up at you, he sees the lust by the way your mouth parts just slightly ajar and how your chest rises and falls in anticipation. Who is he to deny you of your pleasure? 

Without another word, Sunghoon closes his eyes and sticks his tongue out to lick a fat stripe up your folds. Your moans are like music to his ears and he swears he could bottle it up and keep it shelved for days. The way you taste covers the surface of his wet muscle and he hums right into your core the more his mouth explores your aroused hole, poking the tip inside of you with every other swipe of his tongue just to tease you. 

“Ah, ahh!” Sunghoon loves hearing the way you whine underneath him and moans in appreciation when you roll your hips against his face because of him. It motivates him to move his head against you too, angling his face to lick every every single part of you. 

Your hands find themselves gripping your naked breasts in an attempt to ground yourself as your chest becomes one with the ceiling the more you arch your back. Sunghoon’s hands come to hold your waist and keep your legs spread before him before you can even think about falling back onto the bed. His touch is magnetic and you don’t think you’ve ever been so desperate to be touched by anyone before him. 

He lets your body fall and decides to give your legs a break since they’ve been spread out for him for so long. Your hips thank him when he lifts them both into the air and temporarily separates himself from your core to look at you like this. Sunghoon rises to kneel before you and his saliva leaves a string of spit when he detaches from your swollen folds. 

“Your pussy is so pretty.” Sunghoon stares intently at your glistening core and he’s mesmerized by the way you clench at his praise. He brings his thumb to your clit and rubs your sensitive nub and smears your wetness around your folds, his other hand holding your legs up for you. “I can’t believe you deprived me of it for so long. 

“I wanna cum,” you moan selfishly when he sticks two of his fingers inside. Your smooth walls engulf his digits and your arousal splashes around the more he pumps them in and out of you. 

“My baby wants to cum?” he asks rhetorically, thrusting his fingers rapidly while your hands come to steady your legs in the air the way he’s been holding you. “You deserve to cum, baby. Let me make you feel good. Shit, yeah, squeeze my fingers just like that.”

“I-I can’t hold it!” 

“Cum right now or I’ll stop fucking you.”

As if a dam’s protective guard had shattered into a million pieces, Sunghoon’s command tips you over the edge and you release around his fingers. Your mind feels dizzy with the nonstop pleasure he’s been giving you and the way his fingers reach the deepest parts within you the more he angles himself on top of your body. His soft praises of a job well done sink into your chest the more he speaks. The sight of his toned biceps moving with every pass of your pussy makes you clench and push your orgasm out around his fingers. Sunghoon smiles wickedly at your mound the more you cream around his fingers and only stops pumping himself when your pussy squeezes him out. He brings his hand to his mouth and wraps them around his digits. 

“Mm,” he hums, closing his eyes and letting his shoulders drop. You peek at his lap and see his fully hardened cock tenting in his pants. The impressive size stares back at you like it’s daring you to take a peek. Sunghoon licks his fingers clean and catches you staring at his dick when he opens his eyes, but your lustful gaze only fuels his arousal. He leaks in his boxers and feels the precum soak the fabric. 

“You taste so fucking good.”

“Really?” Sunghoon grips your legs gently and settles them back down onto the mattress, soothing your sore thighs with his palms as he lightly massages your skin. He bends down to lick you one more time.

“Best pussy I’ve ever tasted. I could die between your legs.” 

“Sunghoon.” 

“I’m being serious.” 

He watches your hole when he pulls his pants and boxers down below his balls until his cock springs out and bounces in your presence. He’s big and girthy, just like you’d imagined the first time you saw the outline of his dick in his pants one morning. Sunghoon wraps his palm around his length and gives himself an experimental squeeze, hissing at the warm contact before tilting his head to spit on the head before stroking himself. The wet sound makes your core jolt in excitement. He watches you looking at him with your bottom lip caught between your teeth with an expression so determined that it makes him laugh from above you. 

“Eager for me?” You look up but you don’t answer him. “I’m always so fucking hard for you but I didn’t want to scare you away. You wore this long black dress that made your body look like sin a while back. I think about what your ass looked like in that dress from time to time.” 

Your brows furrow in confusion. “I haven’t worn that dress in so long…that was before we met.”

“Yeah,” he confesses, twisting his wrist against himself before pinching the tip. “Thought you were cute back then.” 

“Why didn’t you say anything?” He stops stroking himself and kicks off the rest of his clothing before settling back between your stomach and cups your jawline with his hand. The way he looks at you is pure and nearly cliché, like the two of you might as well be the lead roles in a romance film. His warm, brown eyes bore into yours and you can’t say you don’t love it when he looks at you like this. 

“I didn’t want to get too attached to anything or anyone because I knew I had to go back home. I kept telling myself I wouldn’t do anything unless something gave me a reason to talk to you, and then we ran into each other with Jake’s ugly sweater.” 

You cheeks head up. “I forgot about that.” 

He kisses your lips once. “You looked so cute in it.”

“I look atrocious, Hoonie. It’s okay, it’s called an ugly sweater for a reason.”

“You could wear a trash bag and make it look fashionable.” 

“That’s a bit of a stretch, but I appreciate your faith in me.” Sunghoon kisses the tip of your nose. When he moves, you feel his bare cock resting against your folds and push your hips to meet him. His cock slots between them and Sunghoon hums when you grind against him, holding one of your hips steady. 

“Make me wet, baby.” Sunghoon kisses your jawline and his wet lips leave a cool trail on your skin the more you grind against him. “Make my cock wet enough to fuck you.” 

“Shit, shit…”

“Feels good, yeah?”

“So good,” you whisper. He kisses just beneath your earlobe and puckers his lips until he sucks the skin underneath. The tip of his cock catches your clit with every other pass and Sunghoon drinks up your moans like it’s water. 

“You’re gonna be a good girl and let me stick it in, right? You want my cock just as badly as I want your pussy, don’t you?” 

“You’re so fucking good at this.” He chuckles and his warm breath against your ear makes you shiver.

“Good at what, babe?”

“Talking. Touching me, fuck…everything.”

He drags his nose across your neck to the other side. “You deserve to feel good. You’ve been running around all over Seoul with no one to take care of you but me.” 

“Can’t believe I want you this much.” Without disrupting the position, Sunghoon reaches between your bodies and angles his cock until it breaches your hole with just his tip. It pulls a gasp out of you and Sunghoon lifts his head to watch your face morph in pleasure with your mouth open slightly ajar and eyes almost squinting in disbelief. 

“You don't even know the half of it. I want all of you all the time.” He pushes another inch inside of you. “I want to mold your pussy to the shape of my cock to the point that nobody else can fuck you as good as I can.” 

You grip onto his biceps. “F-Fuck.”

“I want to be the only person you look for. I don’t care how long it takes me to come back, but I’m not leaving you behind. I want you. Only you.” 

The feeling you get when you’re with him makes your chest feel tight with love and admiration the more Sunghoon looks at you like you’re the object of his affection, as if you’re something he cannot live without. You didn’t know that love could feel like an accumulation of every happy memory replaying in your head simultaneously. This newfound overwhelming sensation makes you feel like there isn’t anything you can’t face, as long as you face them with Sunghoon. 

He, on the other hand, finally understands why people talk about finding a home within another person. He’d never given second thought to romance when he knew that his life was planned out for him since he was born and never once thought that he’d get to make decisions on his own about his feelings when his entire livelihood is surrounded by order and duty. But here you are, lying so beautiful underneath him like a mosaic built from colorful stained glass with the sun peeking through it. You look like a dream with your face so pretty the more he pushes into you until he’s buried himself to his full capacity. 

Neither of you have ever had sex like this, so pure and raw with your bodies in tune with one another. It feels like the two of you exist beyond space and time with the way your breathing intensifies the more Sunghoon pulls out from you just to push right back inside. The intensity that permeates around his bedroom makes your breath run short and it fuels Sunghoon to keep a slow and steady rhythm, allowing his cock to reach the deepest parts within you without pushing you too fast. The whole affair is erotic and what can only be described as lovemaking. Sunghoon watches your eyes squeeze shut below him and brings a hand to push the stray hair away from your face. He thinks the two of you must’ve been fated in every universe for him to find, because there is not a single person he could ever imagine loving more than you. 

“I’ll fuck you every single day if you let me,” Sunghoon mutters against your neck. He pulls his body up and places both palms on either side of your body before rolling his hips back. The new angle pushes him in a way that makes you moan loudly. 

“Fuck, Sunghoon.” 

“My baby’s so fucking pretty when she’s filled with my cock. Do you love this as much as I do?” 

“Yes!”

“Do you love me as much as I love you?”

You don’t hesitate to answer him. 

“I love you. I want you here forever.” 

“I can give you forever. I swear on it.” 

He pistons his hips until the audible sound of his pelvis smacking against yours becomes the loudest sound in the room. His balls slap against your ass when you wrap your legs around his waist until he drops to his elbows to catch you and squeeze your body when you clench around him. He tucks himself into your neck and his forehead feels warm and sweaty to the touch, but you can’t say that you don’t love how much he’s putting his body–and yours–through the ringer just to make you cum as many times as he possibly can. 

None of this feels real. Sunghoon might as well be a figment of your imagination because it seemed impossible for sex to feel as good as he’s making you feel. All of your concerns about the future don’t exist when he’s bringing you closer and closer to your second orgasm. He, too, pushes all of his unwanted thoughts away in favor of helping you chase your release. Sunghoon’s determined to show you just how much he loves you by any means possible, and if his words of conviction won’t do him justice, he hopes his body will. 

It’s uncanny the way you feel completely safe around Sunghoon, when no one else has ever made you close to feeling the way you do with you. You’re able to break right before his very eyes and pick yourself off of the floor without feeling ashamed to have insecure and unwanted feelings about love and your attitude surrounding happenstances. You live your life based on the principle that everything happens for a reason and that people come and go but lessons will always stick with you. The people who live as ghosts in your past serve as reminders of painful memories and people who were never supposed to be here for very long, and you pray to the Heavens that Sunghoon is somebody meant to be in your life until forever comes to an end. 

Sunghoon holds himself off until he feels you unravel around him by the way you cling onto his body and clench around his cock. He brings his lips to yours and roughly pushes against your swollen ones when he feels you coming undone and allows himself to follow your lead. His cum fills you with thick, white ropes and oozes out from around him when your pussy can’t hold it in anymore. Sunghoon slows his pace down the more you try to catch your breath in an attempt to help you ride out your orgasm without overwhelming you too much. The squelches keep him semi-hard and your lips taste exactly like his favorite memory. 

“My good girl,” he whispers. “So sexy when you cum.” 

“You’re one to talk. You look like fucking Adonis right now.” 

Sunghoon laughs and kisses your forehead. “You flatter me too much.” 

“Nuh uh. I’m telling you the truth. It’s a little unfair how you always look so good, even when you aren’t trying.” 

“You’re one to talk.” He kisses your lips. “You always look so…cute.”

“Just cute?” 

“Pretty, too.” 

“Only pretty?” Sungoon smacks your outer thigh. 

“You are very beautiful and I’m enamored with you.” 

That makes you blush. “Hoon.” 

“What? Can’t a guy proclaim his love anymore?” 

Sunghoon’s body is warm against yours and he looks down at you with a fond smile in a way you always hoped somebody would. His dark eyes feel warm from above you and something about the way he’s watching you doesn’t make you feel observed. Rather, you feel a blooming warmth within your chest and nuzzle into his touch when he brings his hand to cup your face and rub the apple of your cheek. Sunghoon is gentle with his touch and you find it unbelievable that he’s managed to squeeze his way into your comfort zone as successfully as he had. You love his touch. You crave it, even.

His smile widens when you kiss the underside of his hand with a sweet peck and tilts his head in amusement. You feel bashful when Sunghoon looks at you like this because it feels reminiscent of having a crush in your childhood years, but with him, you can’t find that you dislike the way that you feel. His palm is warm and comforting, especially after spending so much time putting your body through physical rigor in ways you’ve never experienced. His strength never ceases to impress you and the nights you’ve spent picturing yourself underneath him suddenly have merit to them now. 

You find yourself breaking your own character when you lift your head up to push Sunghoon’s lips against yours and his response is immediate. Sunghoon’s plush lips melt right into yours and he slots himself against you like he was always supposed to be there, letting your head lie against the bed while his arm holds your waist. Everything about Sunghoon makes you wonder if love is supposed to feel like a quiet hug amidst a rainstorm, or if it’s supposed to feel like the crescendo in a brilliant symphonic masterpiece. Perhaps it’s a combination of both or none at all. These deep feelings you have for him have never been brought out by anyone before him. 

Sunghoon must know what you’re thinking because his hand travels up your body and back to your hair, gently scraping your scalp with his blunt fingertips. It feels so good to be loved and doted on like this without feeling like you don’t deserve to find an ounce of happiness with somebody who tells you they love you. Years of running away from the feeling of a comfortable embrace melts away with every second that passes with your lips on Sunghoon’s. He feels like every bit of home you’ve spent your whole life yearning for. 

“What are you thinking about?” His question pulls you out of your thoughts and you can’t find it in you to lie to him. 

“Is it selfish that I want you to stay?” 

“No, it’s not. I don’t want to leave Seoul either. I don’t want to leave you.”

“It feels like I just got you but now I have to let you go.”

He kisses you. “You don’t have to let me go. I’ll do whatever it takes to convince my parents to let me live the life that I want. Our trip to your hometown made me realize there’s more to life than people’s expectations of me.”  

You bottom lip quivers. “I’m scared that they won’t budge and that you’ll leave. I’m scared that you’re going to move on and leave me here thinking about you.” 

“I’d never.” He shakes his head like it’s a fact. “I could never forget you. I would never even think about moving on from you. I’m scared that somebody’s gonna snatch you up when I’m away.” 

“I’m really in love with you, unfortunately.” Sunghoon nips at your lip and cherishes the way you laugh. He looks away from you for a split second but the soothing touch of his hand feels comforting. He watches you frown for a minute. “I didn’t get you a present.”

“Baby, you’re my present.”

“That was really corny.”

“It was, wasn’t it?” He kisses you once more. “You’re too important for me to give up. I don’t want to let you go.” 

Somehow, you know he’s telling the truth. 

“Does this mean I’m your boyfriend now?”

“You have to ask.”

“Can I be your boyfriend?” 

You silence him with a kiss and when he feels you smiling against him, he has his answer. 

****

you met jungwon when he still had milk teeth and scabby knees.

you were in the third year of secondary school, hormonal and vaguely annoyed at the universe, when your little brother sunoo came home one day dragging behind him a skinny, quiet boy with a backpack twice the size of his torso.

“this is jungwon,” sunoo had said, already halfway to his room. “he’s new. his mom knows mom. we’re partners for the science project.”

you barely looked up from your textbook, muttering a polite hello. but he looked at you.

really looked.

his eyes lingered longer than they should’ve for a kid his age, wide and curious and—something else. like he wasn’t just seeing you, but memorizing you.

“hi,” he said softly, his voice still uncertain, his ears already turning pink.

you didn’t think much of it at first. boys were shy around you sometimes — older cousins’ friends, classmates, the occasional awkward neighbor. you thought it was just a phase of growing up. you didn’t realize that for jungwon, it wasn’t a phase. it was the beginning.

he started showing up more often after that. friday afternoons. saturdays. sometimes sundays if their homework was especially hard (or if he just needed an excuse to see your face again).

you'd come out of your room to grab water and find him sitting cross-legged on the living room floor, trying to focus on sunoo's babbling explanation of mitosis while accidentally glancing at you every ten seconds.

he never spoke to you much. when he did, his voice cracked. or he stumbled over his words. once, you asked him if he wanted juice, and he stared at you like you’d just proposed marriage.

“uh—um—y-yeah,” he stammered, hands fumbling with the hem of his hoodie, cheeks flushing deep scarlet. “please. i mean—if—it’s okay—if you’re not—like, busy.”

you almost laughed. but you didn’t.

because something about the way he looked at you made your heart ache a little. it wasn’t gross or inappropriate. it was… earnest. innocent.

like he genuinely thought you were the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

and the thing is — you noticed.

you noticed the way he’d sit up straighter when you entered the room. how his voice would drop an octave and crack embarrassingly. how he’d peek at you from behind sunoo’s head, then quickly look away when you caught him. how his hands would shake a little when you passed him a cup or brushed too close.

you never teased him for it. you never said anything.

because in some quiet, maybe slightly selfish part of your mind… you liked it.

you liked being admired. being seen. being felt that intensely, even if it was from the shy, blushing best friend of your little brother.

he was always respectful. always sweet. he never crossed a line. but his crush on you clung to the air like perfume. soft. warm. obvious.

years passed. you graduated. life got louder. messier. you dated. you worked. you kissed boys who didn’t love you and left

boys who didn’t deserve you.

jungwon grew taller. broader. his face sharpened. his voice deepened. but every time he came over — during holidays, birthdays, random reunions — he still had that same look when he saw you. like his chest couldn’t hold everything he felt at once.

you pretended not to notice.

but god, it was hard.

especially when he started looking at you like he wasn’t thirteen anymore. like he could actually handle everything he felt.

and one night, everything shifted.

you hadn’t heard from sunoo all day.

which wasn’t particularly rare — he was in his second year of university, constantly juggling late-night study sessions and social events, and had recently started going out more with his friends. you figured he was just having one of those wild friday nights. until your phone buzzed at 1:14 a.m.

sunoo [1:14 AM]: noonaaa pls come get us jungwon threw up i’m fine but he’s dead pls don’t tell mom

you sighed, rolled your eyes, grabbed your keys and slipped into the hoodie you always used for midnight emergencies — not that you were ever planning to see anyone during them.

you pulled up in front of a too-bright, too-loud, too-packed house on the edge of campus and texted sunoo to come out.

a few minutes later, the front door opened and there he was — clinging to the arm of someone taller, broader, effortlessly holding him upright. for a second, you didn’t recognize him.

then he looked up.

and there he was.

jungwon.

but not the jungwon you remembered.

this jungwon wasn’t a boy.

he wasn’t wearing baggy jeans and awkward energy and hope in his eyes.

this jungwon was all jawline and collarbone, his black t-shirt clinging to a chest that clearly spent time at the gym. his hair was longer, messier, falling in soft waves over his forehead. his eyes met yours — steady, quiet, focused — and for the first time, he didn’t look away.

he didn’t flinch. didn’t stammer.

he smiled.

“hey,” he said, voice deep and low, still warm but heavier now, mature. “sorry about this.”

you blinked.

that’s your voice? you wanted to ask. that’s how you talk now? that’s how you look at me?

sunoo groaned beside him. “i’m fine, but jungwon had like three shots too many. we tried to leave earlier but he threw up in the bushes.”

jungwon grimaced slightly. “traitor.”

“shut up, you begged me for water and called me ‘hyung.’”

“i was being polite.”

“you’re not polite, you’re pathetic.”

they bickered all the way to the car, sunoo practically collapsing in the back seat while jungwon climbed into the passenger side. you could still smell the alcohol on both of them, but jungwon didn’t reek. he smelled like a faint trace of expensive cologne and something else—soap? mint? you couldn’t place it, but it was… grown-up.

he glanced at you while you drove. quiet at first. but his eyes didn’t stray.

“thanks for coming,” he said after a moment, voice softer. “i told him not to call you.”

you shook your head. “it’s fine. better me than some drunk stranger.”

he chuckled under his breath. “you’ve always saved him. guess you’re still saving me, too.”

your hands tightened a little on the steering wheel. you tried not to look at him. you failed.

“you’re different,” you murmured. “you look…”

“older?” he offered.

you smirked. “yeah. and bigger. like—buffer. you work out?”

“a bit,” he said, smiling like he knew exactly what you were thinking. “i’m doing physical education. planning to specialize in rehabilitation and injury recovery. so, yeah. kind of have to stay in shape.”

you blinked. “you’re studying physio?”

he nodded. “yeah. i like the idea of helping people heal.”

and fuck, that sounded more attractive than it should’ve. something about his voice, his posture — he wasn’t trying to impress you. he was just being.

“you?” he asked after a pause.

“i’m freelancing right now,” you said, eyes back on the road. “graphic design. branding mostly. and some small business stuff. it’s boring.”

“no it’s not. it’s so you.”

you glanced at him.

he smiled again, but this time it was smaller. less polished. more personal. like it belonged to a memory — of juice in plastic cups and teenage crushes and the way your laugh used to make him drop his pencil.

“you remember a lot for someone who barely talked to me,” you teased.

“i didn’t talk because i knew i’d say something dumb,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. “but i watched. a lot. i—used to like you. a lot.”

the air between you cracked. just a little. a thin fissure running through the quiet, letting in something hot and unspoken.

“used to?” you asked softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

jungwon looked at you.

his eyes weren’t shy anymore. they were steady. unwavering. burning.

“no,” he said.

“not used to.”

the living room was still, dimly lit by the glow of the microwave clock from the kitchen. you had tossed extra blankets on the couch for both of them, with sunoo passed out flat and snoring softly on the floor, limbs sprawled like he'd been dropped from the ceiling.

jungwon had taken the couch without protest, pulling a hoodie over his t-shirt and curling into it like he thought it would keep him safe from the memories clinging to your home.

but he couldn’t sleep.

it wasn’t the couch. it wasn’t the faint buzz of the refrigerator or the thin light seeping in from the streetlamps outside.

it was you.

he could still smell your perfume on the blanket you'd handed him. he could still hear your voice from the car — the way you said he’d changed, how you looked at him like maybe you saw it, maybe you noticed it.

he stared at the ceiling for an hour. two.

and then quietly stood, careful not to step on sunoo as he padded toward the hallway.

he didn’t expect to run into you.

not like that.

you were just stepping out of the bathroom, your hand tugging lightly at the knot on your robe. it was short — too short. soft grey cotton, the hem brushing high on your thighs and clinging to your hips like it had something to prove. your hair was down, still slightly damp from a shower, curling a little at the ends. your legs were bare.

he froze.

you blinked, mildly startled, but your eyes flicked down his body before returning to his face, amused.

"couldn't sleep?" you asked, your voice low from sleep but edged with curiosity.

jungwon swallowed, gaze darting once to your thighs before he caught himself.

"yeah. uh—couch's kinda stiff."

"mm," you nodded, stepping past him. he stayed still, hyper-aware of the way your shoulder brushed his chest, the smell of your skin so close he could taste it. “or maybe something else is keeping you up.”

he didn’t answer.

you turned, leaning against the hallway wall, arms crossed — and the movement made the robe ride up even higher. his eyes flicked to the exposed skin, then back up to yours. caught again.

you tilted your head. “jungwon…”

“yeah?” his voice cracked. once.

you smiled slowly, wickedly, like you were enjoying how nervous he looked.

“why do you always look at me like that?”

he tensed. “like what?”

“like i’m the only thing in the room.”

he stared at you, wide-eyed, lips parted, like you’d just spoken the deepest truth of his life. and maybe you had.

“i—i don’t—” he started, then stopped. sighed. “i didn’t mean to.”

“but you do.”

he dropped his gaze.

“you’ve been looking at me like that since you were fourteen,” you said softly, stepping closer. “don’t think i never noticed. the stares. the blushes. the way you used to stop talking mid-sentence if i walked into the room.”

he exhaled shakily. “you… knew?”

“of course i did.” you leaned in a little. “and now, you still do it. except you don’t blush anymore.”

he met your eyes. something flickered there — fear, maybe. frustration.

desire.

“you’re playing with me,” he said quietly.

you smiled, not denying it.

“you’re my brother’s friend, jungwon,” you said, tone playful, like that meant something. “you’re younger. i’m just—curious.”

his jaw tensed.

“is that what i am to you?” he said, voice sharper now, wounded. “just a curiosity? some dumb kid with a crush you can tease?”

you didn’t answer. not immediately.

but he stepped forward — two full strides — until he was right in front of you. taller now. broader. not afraid to get close.

“i’m not a kid anymore.”

his voice had dropped, rough at the edges. his gaze was steady. no hesitation now.

“i’m twenty,” he said. “i’ve lived on my own. i’ve seen things. i’ve felt things. i’m not that shy little boy who got nervous when you bent over to get something from the fridge.”

your breath caught.

“then who are you?” you asked, whispering.

he leaned in, lips brushing your ear as he replied.

“i’m a man who’s wanted you for years.”

goosebumps.

your knees nearly gave out.

he pulled back, watching your face, waiting to see if you’d laugh again — if you’d keep playing.

but you didn’t.

you just stared at him, lips parted, chest rising and falling a little too fast.

“show me,” you murmured.

he didn’t say anything.

he didn’t need to.

you turned without a word and walked to your room, knowing he would follow. his footsteps were quiet but quick behind you, like he was afraid you’d change your mind if he hesitated too long.

the moment you closed the door behind him, he stood still—eyes flickering over the space like it was holy, forbidden. like he was stepping into something he’d only ever imagined.

and you could feel it. the weight of his stare. the breath he held in his lungs.

your robe was still loose. still too short. your skin was warm and dewy from the shower, soft and smelling like lavender soap, and you knew the scent would drive him mad. it already was—he was staring at the curve of your collarbone, the hollow between your breasts, the smoothness of your thighs peeking out from under the edge of the fabric.

“sit,” you whispered.

he sat on the edge of your bed like he was being summoned to a throne.

you stood in front of him. close. close enough that your knees brushed his.

he looked up at you—eyes dark, lips parted, fingers gripping the mattress like he needed to hold on to something real.

“do you still want this?” you asked.

he nodded. fast.

“use your words, jungwon.”

“yes,” he said, voice hoarse. “yes. i want you.”

you climbed into his lap slowly, deliberately, straddling his thighs, your hands on his shoulders. he gasped softly at the contact, at the weight of you, at the way your robe parted slightly, revealing more of your thighs and a glimpse of black lace underneath.

“you’re not a kid anymore,” you whispered, brushing your nose against his. “you’re not just sunoo’s friend.”

he nodded again. “i want to be yours.”

your heart clenched.

you kissed him.

soft at first—just the press of lips, the taste of him, the trembling hesitation of years of longing finally touching skin. but he moaned, low and needy, and his hands flew to your waist, pulling you closer. you felt him hard against you already, pressed between your bodies.

“fuck,” you breathed against his mouth. “you’ve been holding this in a long time, haven’t you?”

“so long,” he whispered. “you have no idea.”

your fingers slid into his hair, tugging, and he gasped again. you kissed down his jaw, to his throat, sucking softly just below his ear, feeling his breath catch against your shoulder.

his hands slipped under your robe, palms hot and desperate against your thighs.

“can i…?” he asked, voice shaking.

“anything,” you said.

he pushed the robe off your shoulders slowly, reverently, like he was unwrapping something sacred. his eyes widened when it slipped down your arms and pooled at your waist, baring your chest to him. his breath caught—completely still for a second—just staring.

“you’re so fucking beautiful,” he whispered.

you smiled, tugging his shirt up and over his head, revealing his lean, toned torso. his skin was golden, smooth, his shoulders broader than you remembered, his body hard from years of growing and becoming.

he wasn’t a boy anymore.

he kissed you again—deeper, hungrier. and when he pulled you down to the bed with him, the last thread of restraint snapped.

your robe came off completely.

he looked at you like you were everything.

and then he worshipped you like it.

“have you…?” you asked, voice barely above a whisper as your fingers trailed down the line of his abs.

he looked at you, cheeks already flushed, lips kiss-bitten and raw. he nodded slowly.

“yeah,” he said, swallowing thickly. “i’ve been with someone. once.”

you raised an eyebrow.

“but it wasn’t like this,” he added quickly, reaching up to touch your face. “it was nothing like this.”

you leaned into his palm. “what was it like?”

he hesitated, then let out a soft laugh. embarrassed. “fast. awkward. i couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

you blinked.

he looked away, like he wasn’t sure he should have said that out loud. “i mean… i used to—fuck, i used to jerk off to the thought of you. all the time. your voice. your thighs. the way you looked at me like you knew i was nervous. it was fucked up, i know. but i couldn’t help it.”

your lips parted.

your stomach clenched.

your thighs pressed together automatically at the confession, at the heat in his voice, the hunger. the honesty.

“how many times?” you whispered, voice low against his jaw.

he groaned. “so many. i’d get home from hanging out with sunoo and lock myself in my room. sometimes i couldn’t even make it through dinner.”

you let out a soft, breathy laugh. “god, jungwon…”

“i want to make it good for you,” he said then, serious again. “i want to make you feel everything. like you deserve.”

you kissed him before he could say anything else. kissed him hard. slow. deep. your tongue dragging over his, sucking softly on his bottom lip.

“show me,” you murmured against his mouth. “you’ve waited so long. show me how much.”

his hands shook slightly as he slid down between your legs, kissing down your throat, your collarbones, between your breasts, taking his time. his breath was warm against your skin. reverent. worshipful.

“you smell like heaven,” he murmured, nosing against your stomach. “like soap and heat and you.”

you arched up for him, and he pulled your panties down slowly, dragging them down your legs, eyes fixed on your pussy like it was something sacred.

“fuck,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “you’re soaked.”

his fingers ghosted over your folds, trembling.

you caught his wrist gently, eyes on his. “you can touch me, jungwon. it’s okay. you’re allowed now.”

that seemed to snap something inside him. his mouth was on you seconds later, licking into you like he needed it to live. he groaned when you gasped, when you tangled your fingers in his hair and cried out his name.

he was eager. hungry. desperate to please.

and when you finally pulled him up, breathless, your thighs shaking, he looked at you like he was about to break.

“please,” he whispered. “please let me fuck you.”

you nodded. pulled him down. reached between you both and helped guide him to your entrance, feeling the weight of him—thick, hard, pulsing.

he slid in slow.

inch by inch.

his breath was ragged. yours was gone entirely.

you both gasped at the stretch, the warmth, the way your bodies fit like they’d been waiting all this time to do this.

he buried his face in your neck, panting, whispering your name over and over like a prayer.

“so tight,” he groaned. “so fucking wet. fuck—i’m not gonna last if you keep clenching like that.”

you moaned at his honesty, at the way his voice cracked, at the rawness in his tone. he started to move, slow at first, dragging his hips back and then forward again, pushing deep, grinding into you.

it was good. better than you expected. it wasn’t just sex—it was years of longing, of wanting, of watching each other from opposite sides of a line neither of you had dared to cross.

until now.

“you feel like everything,” he whispered, fucking into you harder now, deeper. “i dreamed about this. every night. every fucking night.”

“then don’t stop,” you gasped, wrapping your legs around his waist, pulling him in deeper. “fuck me like you’ve waited for it.”

and he did.

he fucked you with devotion, with hunger, with shaking hands and eyes wide open so he wouldn’t miss a single expression on your face. something dark, something feral flickered in his gaze.

and just like that, the fear in his shoulders melted, replaced by heat.

he kissed you again, harder now, and without pulling out, he rolled you on top of him, hands gripping your thighs.

“ride me,” he whispered, voice low and broken. “please. i need to see you.”

you slid up slowly, his cock dragging along your walls, then sank back down, making both of you moan.

“fuck,” he gasped, fingers digging into your hips. “you feel—so fucking good. fuck—fuck—please don’t stop.”

you moved above him in reverse cowgirl, hands on his thighs for support as you rode him slow at first, then faster when you felt his cock twitch again inside. he sat up, chest against your back, mouth on your neck, groaning your name like it was a spell.

“you’re so fucking hot like this,” he muttered, his hands gripping your ass, spreading you open so he could watch his cock slide in and out. “i dreamed about this. every fucking day.”

when you started to clench again, he lay you on your stomach gently, pulling your hips up, and slid into you from behind—deeper, harder.

doggie style hit different with jungwon.

he was more confident now, more vocal, panting above you, whispering how tight you were, how wet, how you were making him lose his mind.

you pushed your ass back on him greedily, and he groaned, one hand gripping your waist, the other on your shoulder to keep you steady as he fucked you harder.

“you like this?” he rasped, pounding into you. “you like being fucked like this? like you’re mine?”

you moaned something between yes and his name, your voice breaking with every thrust.

he leaned down, his chest against your back again, fucking you hard and deep.

“you’re mine now,” he whispered against your ear. “you’re not gonna fuck anyone else after this, right?”

“no,” you gasped. “just you. only you, jungwon.”

and then, after you both came again, shaking and breathless, he didn’t stop.

he took you in missionary one last time—slow, deep, eyes on yours the entire time, his forehead resting against yours as he kissed you between moans, whispering how beautiful you looked, how long he’d waited to love you like this.

“you’re everything,” he whispered, voice cracking as he pushed in deep one last time. “you’re everything i’ve ever wanted.”

he stilled with a broken gasp, arms trembling around your body as his hips jerked forward one final time, deeper than before, his breath hot against your neck. the way he moaned your name—desperate, shaky, reverent—sent a shiver through you that tangled with the warmth blooming low in your stomach.

you felt it when he came.

thick, pulsing inside you, filling you up so suddenly that his whole body tensed, and for a second he looked stricken—terrified even—his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, "shit, i—i came inside. i didn’t mean to. fuck—"

your fingers combed through his hair gently, trying to calm the frantic rhythm of his breathing. you tilted your head to look at him, his flushed cheeks, his wide, guilty eyes.

"it’s okay. i’m on the pill. i’ve been on it for years." you murmured, your voice soft but sure.

he blinked at you, his brows furrowing. “really?”

you nodded, your thumb tracing his cheekbone, then the corner of his parted lips. “yeah. you’re fine, baby. you don’t have to panic.”

his shoulders slowly relaxed, and something shifted behind his eyes—like he was letting himself believe it was real. that this wasn’t a mistake. that you wanted him just as much.

then he kissed you again—slow, deep, grateful—still buried inside you, still catching his breath.

you didn’t move. neither of you did.

just stayed tangled like that, in your sheets, in your skin, in something that felt too big to name yet too fragile to let go of.

“i’m sorry,” he whispered after a pause. “i wanted to last longer. i thought i would.”

you smiled, brushing his damp hair back from his forehead.

“you did better than i expected,” you teased, lips grazing his jaw. “besides… we’re not done unless you are.”

he looked at you, eyes dark and hungry again.

“i’m not done.”

you didn’t know how long you stayed like that, bodies pressed together, chests rising and falling in sync. his heartbeat was still racing beneath your palm, but it had softened now—steady, grounded. there was something so beautifully boyish in the way he clung to you even after, like he couldn’t believe he got to touch you like this. like you might disappear if he let go.

“you’re warm,” he mumbled sleepily against your collarbone.

you smiled, your hand sliding slowly down his back. “you wore yourself out.”

“i didn’t think…” he trailed off, his lips grazing your skin again. “i didn’t think it would feel like that.”

“like what?”

he pulled back just enough to meet your eyes. “like i belonged to you.”

your breath caught.

you didn’t answer right away. you just cupped his jaw, kissed him soft and deep, like a thank you and a promise rolled into one.

his hand brushed your side, then your thigh. tentative. reverent.

you felt him growing hard again, slow and unhurried, pressing against your hip with the same nervous need that had always burned quietly behind his eyes.

but there was no rush this time.

just heat, and quiet hunger, and the kind of tension that settles deep in your bones.

you shifted slightly, tilting your hips as you reached between you and wrapped your fingers around him, making him gasp softly against your mouth. his hips jerked into your palm, and he whined—high, breathy, desperate.

"you’re still so sensitive," you whispered, teasing your thumb over the head, slick and flushed.

he nodded, eyes fluttering shut. “but i want you again… i want to make you feel good.”

“you already did.”

“not enough.”

his voice cracked on the last word, and that was all it took.

you rolled him onto his back slowly, straddling his hips, your movements smooth and sure as you lined him up again. his hands gripped your thighs like he didn’t know where to touch first, overwhelmed, eyes wide and starry as you sank down onto him with a quiet moan.

he was deeper like this.

closer.

“fuck,” he choked, watching you like he was in awe, like he couldn’t believe this was real.

you rode him slowly at first, your hands on his chest, grounding yourself in the rise and fall of his breath. his mouth dropped open, fingers digging into your waist as he tried to hold back.

but you could tell he was unraveling.

every time you circled your hips, every roll forward, every clench around him made him twitch inside you, made him moan through gritted teeth.

"you’re doing so well," you murmured, leaning down to kiss his lips, his jaw, the hollow of his throat. “look at you. fucking me so good…”

he whimpered, bucking up into you.

“tell me you’re mine,” you whispered, lips brushing his ear.

“i’m yours,” he groaned, like it hurt. “i’ve always been yours.”

you shifted your angle, riding him harder now, chasing your own release as his hands scrambled to grab your ass, pulling you down with every thrust.

“i can’t—fuck—i’m gonna cum again—”

and when he came again—louder this time, broken and raw, with your name falling from his lips like a confession—you let go with him, your walls tightening around him, pulling him deeper until neither of you could breathe.

you collapsed against his chest, trembling, kissed his sweat-slick skin as his arms curled around you.

he held you like you were his.

because in some quiet, undeniable way—you were.

sunoo wakes up with a throbbing headache and the taste of cheap vodka in his mouth.

he groans dramatically, rolls over, and nearly falls off the couch. “i’m never drinking again,” he mumbles, as he always does, before drinking again next weekend.

after peeing for what feels like an eternity, he shuffles out into the hallway—barefoot, hoodie halfway on, hair looking like he fought a raccoon and lost.

and then he hears it.

a door creaking shut.

your door.

his eyes narrow.

he walks to the kitchen. there’s a coffee mug on the counter. another one in the sink. two mugs. okay. maybe you just wanted a second cup.

he turns around.

jungwon walks in, freshly showered, wearing one of your oversized t-shirts that says “girlboss energy” on the front.

sunoo blinks.

jungwon blinks back.

“morning,” jungwon says, casual. too casual. the shirt hangs halfway down his thighs like a nightgown and he has the audacity to stretch — arms over his head, shirt lifting just enough to show hip bone.

sunoo stares.

“...is that my sister’s shirt?”

jungwon pauses. “uh. laundry emergency?”

“we were only here for eight hours, what did you—never mind.” sunoo rubs his temples. “why do you smell like her shampoo?”

jungwon opens his mouth. closes it. shrugs.

“you two didn’t—” sunoo cuts himself off. “wait.”

his eyes go wide.

jungwon picks up a banana and starts peeling it like it’s the most natural thing in the world. “you want some eggs?”

“don’t change the subject!” sunoo screeches, pointing an accusatory finger. “did you fuck my sister?!”

jungwon freezes. the banana droops sadly in his hand.

then, very quietly, he says: “define ‘fuck’.”

sunoo screams.

sunoo sits at the kitchen table, staring at the two of you like you’re both guilty of murder. well, not just murder—incestuous murder.

you and jungwon are trying to act as normal as possible, but neither of you are fooling him for a second.

you’re stirring your coffee like it’s the most casual thing in the world, and jungwon’s sitting there, still wearing your t-shirt and acting like this is just any ordinary morning.

“so,” sunoo starts slowly, trying to piece everything together like it’s a bad detective show. “you two didn’t—you know...”

you raise an eyebrow at him, innocently. “didn’t what?”

“You didn’t,” he waves his hand dramatically, “kiss or… touch… or—anything?”

you pause for a second, and then you smile. a sweet, innocent smile that screams “i know what you’re thinking but i’m not going to confirm it.”

“sunoo,” you say calmly, “that’s not what happened.”

jungwon chimes in, voice a little too smooth. “yeah, we were just—uh, talking. you know. bonding over childhood memories and stuff.”

“memories, huh?” sunoo squints suspiciously. “so that’s what you’re calling it now?”

“uh, yeah?” jungwon looks way too casual about this. “like how you and i used to play video games when we were little?”

sunoo shakes his head. “but you—you're wearing her shirt.”

“well, the other option was wearing your dirty laundry,” jungwon smirks. “you really want that?”

sunoo looks horrified. “okay, no. no. i’m done with you two. this is too much.”

but then, you—ever the calm, collected one—lean forward and say in that smooth voice of yours, “sunoo, it was an accident.”

jungwon nods. “accident. i slipped… into your sister’s bed.”

sunoo, completely done with everything, slowly places his face into his hands. “god, i’m going to need therapy after this.”

you grin, leaning back in your chair with a teasing glint in your eye. “don’t worry. we won’t make it a habit.”

jungwon’s eyes widen in panic. “wait—no, i—”

“too late, jungwon,” you tease, crossing your arms. “your secret’s safe with me... for now.”

sunoo’s head jerks up, horrified. “you two are going to keep doing this?!”

you and jungwon exchange a glance, smirking.

“maybe,” you reply, a sly smile playing at your lips. “depends on how you feel about getting a new roommate.”

sunoo glares. “this is not happening.”

and just like that, you both vanish into the living room, leaving sunoo alone to spiral into a panic attack while jungwon pretends he’s completely unaware of the emotional damage he’s causing.

the sound of sunoo yelling from the kitchen echoes for a while.

The words are dipped in something dangerously soft. Like honey laced with electricity. They settle over your skin, deep and warm, and suddenly you’re not sure if you’re breathing at all.

Your head turns slowly, not by your own will.

And then you see him.

Jungwon.

Older. Sharper. Ridiculously handsome.

His hair is tousled, lashes casting shadows over cheekbones that have grown into sharper lines. His lips part slightly as he smiles at you. Lazy, teasing, like he already knows every inch of your heart.

But it’s his eyes that undo you.

He looks at you like you belong to him.

Like you always have.

“I didn’t think you could get prettier,” he murmurs, brushing his nose against your cheek. “But here you are proving me wrong. Again.”

Your mouth opens, but no words come out. You’re stuck somewhere between awe and confusion. And even though your mind is spinning, your body melts into his touch like it’s been doing this for years.

His hand slides slowly up your arm, fingers curling against your back like he’s trying to memorize the curve of your spine.

“Come on,” he whispers, voice dropping lower. “Just five more minutes.”

“Let me have you to myself. Just five more.”

You try to answer, to say what is this? or what’s happening? But your lips move without sound.

There’s no fear. Just a strange pressure in your chest. Like your heart is trying to remember something your brain won’t accept yet.

“I have to get up,” you manage, barely.

He tenses behind you. Then—

“No,” he says instantly, his arms tightening. “You get up, I have to share you. I’m not ready.”

The words come out softer than they should. Almost like a confession.

You whisper his name. “Jungwon…”

At the sound of it, he exhales shakily, like you’ve touched something sacred.

He presses his forehead to yours, eyes fluttering closed.

“Let me love you quietly… just a little longer.”

And before you can say anything more, your body moves, like instinct.

You slip from his arms, legs brushing the edge of the bed. Your bare feet hit the hardwood. It’s warm.

Too real.

You reach for something at the foot of the bed and your hand wraps around fabric, his hoodie. You slip it over your head like you’ve done it a thousand times.

And you walk barefoot into the quiet glow of a house that isn’t yours… but somehow feels like it.

The hallway is lined with soft light and softer memories.

A second toothbrush beside the sink. Two mugs on the drying rack. A stray sock by the couch that definitely isn’t yours.

You pause outside the kitchen.

There, on the wall framed in wood worn smooth by time is a photograph.

You can’t breathe.

It’s you.

Smiling, windswept, holding a laughing boy in your lap. Jungwon is behind you, arms around both of you, lips pressed to your temple like he never wants to let go.

The boy is bright and soft and radiant, about five, maybe, and his name tumbles out of your mouth before you even think it.

“Jihoon…”

You don’t know how you know.

You just do.

Suddenly—

“Eommaaaa!”

Tiny footsteps thunder down the hall like a stampede of joy.

Before you can react, a small boy in dino pajamas hurls himself into your legs with all the power his little body can muster.

You catch him somehow. Arms instinctively cradling him close.

“Jihoon…” you breathe again.

He grins, cheeks puffed out like a chipmunk. “I want toast! And Appa said I can have Choco milk if I say please like a gentleman!”

You laugh. It feels strange coming out of your throat. Like a sound from someone else’s body. But it feels right.

And then a voice behind you—

“I also said you have to kiss your mom good morning. Or I get double.”

You turn, slowly, heart already racing.

Jungwon walks into the kitchen, sleepy-eyed and unfairly beautiful. His shirt is half-buttoned, collar wide, hair falling across his forehead. He looks like a dream.

But his smile?

That smile is real.

“Hi,” he says softly.

“You left the bed too early.”

You don’t speak.

You can’t.

He walks right up to you, presses a kiss to your temple, then one to Jihoon’s cheek.

“Unfair,” he whispers in your ear. “Wearing my hoodie and stealing my whole heart before breakfast.”

Your throat tightens.

And before you can answer, he scoops Jihoon into one arm and turns toward the stove, all casual affection and practiced ease.

“I’ll make the eggs,” he says with a smirk.

“You just stand there and look pretty.”

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.

The alarm blares, a sharp, unforgiving sound that rips you from sleep. Your body is sluggish as you roll over, eyes still half-closed. There’s a strange weight on your chest, like something that doesn't belong to you. You reach for it instinctively, only to find the bed beside you empty.

You freeze.

That dream. That dream.

The warm embrace of Jungwon’s arms around you. His voice, low and possessive, as he held you like you were his and his alone. The image of Jihoon, smiling up at you as his tiny hands reached for you, and you just knew his name. It all felt so real, like you could feel their presence even now.

You shut your eyes tightly, trying to push it all away.

But no—this isn’t real.

This isn’t how your life is.

Your heart starts to race. It was just a dream. Or was it?

You groggily grab your phone from the nightstand and swipe across the screen, your thumb trembling slightly. The words are there, just as they always are when your birthday arrives:

🎉 Happy 18th Birthday, Y/N! 🎉

It's time to check your Blessing 💫

You blink, trying to focus. You’ve been waiting for this moment. Everyone has been waiting for this moment.

In this world, everyone receives their Blessing on their 18th birthday. It’s a gift, a special power that defines your life. But it only comes once a year—on your birthday—and you can only use it that day.

Blessings are a mysterious and magical part of life. Some people get practical abilities like the gift of perfect memory or the ability to always know when someone is lying. Others receive mind-bending abilities like controlling the weather, seeing through time, or reading minds. There are even rare Blessings that come with superhuman strength or the ability to heal wounds with a single touch.

It’s always a huge deal. Everyone anxiously awaits what their Blessing will be, and it shapes their path forward. Some Blessings are more powerful than others, but no one ever knows until the moment it activates.

And today... it’s your turn.

You swallow, nervous. This is the day you’ve been waiting for, the day when you finally get to know what you’re meant to do in life. A strange fluttering sensation rises in your chest as you tap on the notification, feeling your heartbeat louder than before.

"Blessing Activated: The ability to see into the future."

You blink, your heart skipping a beat. You read it again.

See into the future.

Your mind instantly flashes back to that dream. Jungwon. Your son. The home. The family. Everything that felt too real.

But no. No way. That’s not possible. It can’t be.

It was just your wild imagination running rampant, a byproduct of your complicated feelings for Jungwon, the popular, carefree guy who could charm the entire campus with a smile and a wink. The one who always seemed to have a crowd of girls following him around, eagerly hanging on to his every word, craving his attention. It wasn’t his fault. He was just... well, Jungwon, always in the spotlight, effortlessly cool, and always a little out of reach.

You, on the other hand, were the ideal responsible student body president, constantly trying to keep everything in order while keeping your unaddressed feelings for him under wraps. It wasn’t supposed to be anything more than that, a fleeting daydream. Your mind must've just tangled everything up, creating a perfect world where you were married to him and raising a child. But no. You couldn't let yourself believe it was real.

It was just another one of those wild, embarrassing fantasies... right?

That’s all it was. Right?

You shake your head, trying to banish the thought. But deep down, you feel the weight of the words still pressing on your chest.

The bell rings, signaling the start of the school day. You drag yourself out of your seat, trying to focus on the tasks ahead, but the words on your phone, the words about seeing the future linger in your mind.

Your Blessing has been activated. And yet, you're not sure if you should even believe it.

How can that be your Blessing? How could you see the future? Maybe the system made a mistake. Maybe you read it wrong. There’s no way that what you saw in your dream could be your actual future, right?

You’re so lost in thought that you almost miss Sunoo sitting down beside you, his usual wide grin greeting you with far too much energy.

“So, Y/N, any plans for your Blessing today?” He’s practically bouncing in his seat, eyes sparkling. “I’m so jealous! It’s going to be so cool! What did you get?”

You glance at him, blinking rapidly to clear your head. “I... I’m still trying to figure it out,” you mumble, your voice sounding unsure, even to yourself. “It’s just... hard to process.”

Sunoo giggles. “Of course you are. It’s always hard to accept, right? I mean, last year, my sister got the ability to talk to animals. She’s been living with a pet snake for months now, and I swear, that thing is smarter than me. Some people get the craziest gifts! It’s just so exciting.”

You nod, trying to sound upbeat, but the mention of talking to animals only makes you feel even more confused. There are so many kinds of Blessings: there’s the ability to control fire, to read minds, to move objects with a glance, and some less flashy ones, like the ability to memorize anything you hear, or even the ability to speak every language fluently.

But seeing the future?

You shake your head. No way. That’s... too much. Way too much.

“Hey, Y/N, did you get your notification?” Sunoo asks, leaning in curiously. “I bet it’s something super cool. You’re going to be amazing with your Blessing.”

You can barely focus on his words as you pull out your phone again, a dull weight settling in your stomach. You scroll through the notification. Still there. Still the same message.

"Blessing Activated: The ability to see into the future."

You try to dismiss it. Your mind starts to race. Could it really be true? Could you really see the future? You look around the classroom, feeling a sudden wave of self-doubt. Was this a mistake? Or was your mind still so caught up in that dream with Jungwon, that it created something out of fantasy?

You glance out the window, distracted by the thought of what your future could hold. And yet, despite the fluttering feeling in your chest, you can’t shake the nagging thought at the back of your mind: What if it’s real?

The soft hum of the classroom was interrupted by the creak of the door opening, and in walked Jungwon.

“Holy shit,” someone whistles from across the room, dropping their pen. “Jungwon, you look like you just ran a marathon.”

You turn your head, and there he is.

Coming in the doorway, disheveled in a way that shouldn't look good but somehow does. His white button-up clings to his frame, damp and slightly wrinkled, the top two buttons undone to reveal a sharp collarbone slick with sweat. His usually styled hair falls messily across his forehead, and he’s practically glowing under the fluorescent light like chaos wrapped in charm.

Someone tosses him a bottle of water.

“What happened to you?” another guy laughs. “It’s third period, man.”

Jungwon catches the bottle effortlessly, twisting off the cap like he owns the moment. “Big bike broke down,” he says, taking a long drink before wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Tire popped near Namsan intersection.”

“Damn. That sucks.”

“Why didn’t you call a cab or something?”

Jungwon’s lips curl into that infamous smirk, the one that always starts trouble.

“Couldn’t,” he says casually. “Left my wallet last night.”

“Where?”

He pauses dramatically, eyes flicking to the side before he says it:

“Some girl’s dorm.”

The silence is brief but heavy. Then, like clockwork, the room breaks into amused groans and howling laughter.

“You’re insane,” someone cackles.

“Bro. Again?”

“Whose this time?”

Jungwon just laughs, tossing his bag onto a nearby desk and shrugging out of his damp uniform jacket like he’s done this a hundred times. Which based on reputation, he probably has.

You look away, jaw clenched.

What were you thinking?

He might be handsome, charming, and seemingly always the center of attention, but that’s not you. You’re the class president. Always prepared, always on time. The responsible one professors rely on. You’ve talked to him maybe—what—twice? You barely share two classes, and even then, he never remembers to bring his ID, you even reprimanded him about that one time.

And yet this morning, you saw yourself in his bed.

His arms around you. His lips on your cheek. A little boy, Jihoon calling you Eomma.

A wild fantasy. That’s all it could be. A side effect of your Blessing. A trick of your crush-riddled brain.

Because that boy over there? The one with sweat dripping down his temple and a lazy grin on his lips while he talks about his nightly rendezvous like it’s a joke?

You take a breath, as if that thought alone should pull you back into reality.

But then you can’t help but glance at him again. The way his hair falls messily over his forehead, the glint of mischief in his eyes, how effortlessly the attention of the room falls on him like gravity pulling in everything around him.

And as your thoughts spiral, Jungwon catches your eye again. This time, he doesn’t look away. His gaze lingers just a second longer than it should, a playful glint sparking in the depths of his dark eyes. It's almost like he can sense your gaze, like he's aware of the tension in the air.

The weight of it all hits you. There’s no way someone like Jungwon could ever be husband material for you.

But you did have a crush on him, don’t you?

The question hits you like an electric jolt, and the realization makes your skin burn with embarrassment. You feel like a fool. A huge, pathetic fool for letting this fantasy play out, for letting him take up so much of your headspace when he barely knows you exist.

Your heart stutters, and you quickly look away, desperately trying to regain some semblance of control. No, you tell yourself. He’s not for you.

He’s not someone you fall in love with.

He's someone you survive.

That night, you had a plan.

A quiet café near the riverside, your favorite spot, where the view of the night city glimmers like constellations trapped in water. You’d go there alone, sip on something warm, pretend the world paused just for you, and think.

About the dream.

About the Blessing.

About how stupid it is to have someone like him trapped in your mind like he’s yours.

But before that… duty calls. Being class president means more than title and praise—it’s also staying late to organize reports other people forget exist. You’re hunched over your desk in the empty student council room, sorting folders by department, your phone buzzing softly against the desk.

It’s a message from Sunoo.

Sunooooo 🐥:

hey prez 😗 i left my USB in the drama club office, can u grab it for me?? it’s in the drawer beside the speaker. i owe u 2 bubble teas 😭🙏

You sigh, push your chair back, and stretch your arms. The building’s almost empty now, the halls eerily quiet, lights buzzing faintly overhead.

The drama club’s room is on the third floor. You climb the stairs, footsteps echoing, your mind halfway to the riverside already.

The door creaks open when you push it gently.

And everything inside you halts.

Your breath catches. The air leaves your lungs before your brain can tell you what you’re seeing.

Jungwon.

His back is to you, but you’d recognize him anywhere, even with his uniform shirt half-off, even with his mouth locked on someone else's neck like he’s starving, even with a girl tangled around him, her skirt pushed up high on his thigh, hands pulling him closer.

It’s raw, messy. Real.

The girl gasps and pulls away first, eyes widening in panic.

Jungwon turns. Hair mussed. Lips swollen. Chest rising and falling fast.

The room falls silent. Everything slows.

He sees you.

“Y/N?” he says, like it’s nothing. Like he didn’t just split your world open.

You feel your legs move before your mind catches up. You don’t say a word. You just back away, out the door, letting it click shut behind you.

You don’t remember how you got out of that room.

The door closed behind you with a click that felt too loud in the silent hallway, but your legs didn’t stop. You walked—no, stumbled—down the corridor like a ghost. Your heart still thunders in your chest, a strange mix of fury and humiliation burning behind your ribs.

You hear someone calling your name just as you turn the corner.

“Y/N!”

It’s Sunoo, jogging up to you with his usual bright energy and a hopeful grin. “Did you find the USB?”

You stop. Slowly turn to face him.

The expression on your face makes his smile falter.

“You—” your voice comes out shaky, then steadies with a strange coldness. “You seriously need to start screening the students in your club.”

Sunoo blinks. “Huh?”

“There’s a line, Kim Sunoo,” you snap, the words cutting sharper than you intended. “And whatever the hell was happening in that room? Way past it.”

He stares at you, brows furrowed in genuine confusion. “Wait, what are you—?”

You don’t wait for him to finish. “Tell your vice president to clean that space properly. And keep the door locked when it’s not in use.” Your tone is clipped. “This school has rules for a reason.”

And then you’re walking. Fast. Past the bulletin boards, down the stairs, out the doors into the open night air where it’s cooler, easier to breathe.

Sunoo calls your name once more behind you, but you don’t turn back.

You clutch your tote tighter, your steps hard on the pavement. Your thoughts spiral.

What the hell were you expecting?

That he was different?

That a man like Jungwon, irresistible, untouchable, a walking magnet of trouble and girls and charm would someday settle for someone like you?

You? The uptight, rule-following class president? The one who frowns at missed deadlines and documents everything in folders? You’ve spoken maybe twice. He probably doesn’t even remember what your voice sounds like.

The dream wasn’t a vision.

It was delusion.

A cruel, beautiful lie spun by a Blessing you hadn’t even asked for.

You sigh, pushing your hands through your hair as you finally round the corner, the warm light of the café now glowing just ahead. It’s quiet inside. A perfect place to sit with your thoughts, maybe even rewrite them into something less… pathetic.

But as you approach the glass doors, your reflection stares back at you.

Eyes wide.

Still shaken.

And behind all the anger, confusion, embarrassment—

There’s something else.

A flicker of hope that refuses to die.

What if it is the future?

What if, somehow, against all odds, things change?

And would you even want that?

You push the door open, the bell chiming softly above your head. The scent of roasted coffee beans and cinnamon wraps around you.

You find a seat by the window. You order something sweet.

And for the first time today…

You let yourself breathe.

The next day arrives colder than usual, the gray sky draping a slow, sleepy atmosphere over the campus. You’re halfway through skimming your notes at your desk when something plops onto the table beside your laptop.

You look up.

Sunoo grins, placing a cup of brown sugar bubble tea beside a bright yellow pack of gummy bears.

You blink. “What is this?”

He shrugs nonchalantly, but there’s a flicker of something mischievous in his eyes. “One of the two bubble teas I owe you.”

You raise a brow. “This?” Pointing at the pack of gummy bears.

He nods. “That’s... uh, from Jungwon.”

That makes you freeze.

Sunoo scratches the back of his head sheepishly. “He said I should give it to you since he felt bad about what happened yesterday. Said he didn’t mean for you to walk in on that.”

Your brows knit. You glance toward the door, scanning the incoming students. No sight of that familiar tall figure. “Where is he, then?”

Sunoo blinks. “Huh?”

“If he really felt bad,” you say, crossing your arms, “why can’t he say it to me upfront?”

Sunoo stammers. “Ah—he’s not skipping or anything. He just said he had something to take care of today.”

You narrow your eyes. “What?”

Sunoo shrugs again. “Lab research. BioChem. Said he’s getting data from the lab.”

Your eyes widen.

Lab research?

Your breath catches as you fumble to grab your phone. You had completely forgotten.

Two days ago, your Biochemistry professor had handed out a research task due in five days. You hadn’t even made a group chat yet for your team. You were supposed to assign roles, divide the work, set a meeting.

You swallow, fingers rushing to open your inbox and sure enough, there it is.

A message request from Jungwon, sent exactly two days ago.

hi y/n, i know we haven’t made the gc yet, but i was reviewing the assigned enzymes, so i made a quick draft of the intro and references. we can revise later. let me know if this is okay.

Attached is a PDF file.

You tap it open.

And you go still.

It’s… detailed. Clean. Formatted correctly. The citations are already APA 7th. He even included notes and potential corrections in the comments, like he expected you to edit it yourself.

Your eyes linger on the timestamp.

You feel a twist of guilt settle in your chest. Two whole days. And you only saw it now.

God, you think. He’s not just messing around all the time.

Jungwon may have the reputation of being a flirt, a wild card—hell, even that guy who disappears after parties—but his grades are stable. You’ve checked. Of course you have. And now, seeing this…

You hate that your heart flutters a little.

You shake it off. It’s ridiculous. You need to be logical. Collected.

Still, your fingers hover over the screen.

You type.

hey. sorry i just saw this. the draft looks good. where are you now?

You stare at the text, hesitate, then hit send.

The typing bubble doesn’t appear. Yet your chest is already tight.

Sunoo notices the way you keep looking at your phone.

“You okay?”

You hum noncommittally.

Because the truth is…

You don’t know what you want his reply to say.

Your phone stays silent all through your next class.

And the one after that.

You keep glancing at it when no one’s looking—pretending to scroll through lecture slides while secretly refreshing your messages. Nothing. Not even a “seen.”

By the time the afternoon rolls around, your head's a mess of static. You try to lose yourself in your workload, drowning in spreadsheets and professor emails, but everything tastes like paper and air. That dream still clings to the back of your mind like static on skin. Warm breath on your neck. That stupid soft voice calling you mine.

You shake it off again. It's all just hormones and brain chemistry and—yeah, maybe a little too much pining. You can get through this.

You push away from your desk, grabbing your bag. You’ll head to the lab early, maybe reorganize the data files. Be useful. Do something.

But as you exit the building, your heart stutters.

Jungwon is there.

Not in your imagination, not folded behind a dream, but actually there. At the shaded edge of the quad near the science wing, one foot propped against the wall, head tilted as he scrolls his phone. His uniform shirt is crumpled in that lazy way that’s probably not intentional but always looks intentional. His neck glistens faintly with leftover sweat from the walk, and his bangs stick slightly to his forehead.

He hasn’t noticed you yet.

You freeze.

Part of you wants to turn around.

Part of you wants to go straight up and ask him why the hell he didn’t respond. Why he’s acting like nothing happened. Why your name still sits unopened in his inbox when he’s clearly online.

But mostly you just stand there.

Then, as if summoned by your indecision, he lifts his gaze.

Your eyes meet.

The air shifts. It doesn’t crash. Doesn’t burn. But it thickens.

He pushes off the wall slowly, slipping his phone into his back pocket, eyes locked on you.

No smirk. No signature grin.

Just him. Watching.

Then he calls, voice low but unmistakably Jungwon: “Hey. President.”

You stiffen.

Not Y/N.

Not even hey.

Just President. Detached. Teasing.

Like he didn’t make you spiral last night without even trying.

Like you didn’t see him tangled with another girl just hours after dreaming of his arms around you like a promise.

You square your shoulders.

“You got the lab data?” you ask plainly, walking forward with steady steps.

Jungwon nods, pulling a crumpled printout from his bag, and holds it out. “Compiled the results. Some weird numbers in the catalase trials, though. Might be a pipette issue.”

You take the paper, fingers brushing.

You pretend not to notice the tiny flicker in his eyes.

“Thanks,” you say, voice clipped. “I’ll take care of the rest.”

You turn to leave.

But just before you walk past him, his voice comes again, quieter this time, a little too casual.

“…You saw the file?”

You stop. Don’t face him. Just nod once.

“And?” he asks.

You pause again. Swallowing the lump of everything you could say.

“It’s good,” you mutter, before walking away.

You don’t look back.

But you feel his gaze burning into the space where your footsteps used to be.

That night, the campus is quieter than usual.

Most of the dorms have dimmed down, the courtyard echoing only with the soft chirp of cicadas and the occasional motorbike in the distance. You’re back in your room, the soft yellow desk lamp casting long shadows across your textbooks. The lab report glows on your screen, and your fingers move on autopilot, editing, cross-checking, reformatting Jungwon’s initial draft.

You hate how well-written it is.

Hate how focused he must’ve been when writing it.

Hate that he sent it before you even made a group chat.

He knew. He just… did it anyway.

The way your mind keeps replaying today’s encounter isn’t helping either. That careless tone. The unread message. The way he looked at you, not like you were someone he’d kissed or remembered, but like you were just another task to check off.

You sigh hard through your nose, shoving your glasses onto your head and pushing away from your desk. You grab your phone out of habit.

Still nothing from Jungwon.

You frown.

And then like a cruel joke your phone buzzes.

Unknown Number

[9:47 PM]

hey.

You blink.

The typing bubbles flicker, disappear, flicker again.

Then:

it’s jungwon.

You stare at it. Right, you never saved his number. You consider leaving it on seen, out of pure spite.

But then another message arrives.

thanks for checking the file.

Simple. Casual. No emojis. Not even a period. You almost roll your eyes.

You don’t respond right away.

The dots appear again.

are you still mad about yesterday.

Your jaw tightens. Your fingers hover over the screen, unsure whether to ignore or unleash. But before you decide—

it’s fine if you are. just wanted to say i wasn’t trying to... make you uncomfortable or anything.

You blink again. This time, slower.

Another message comes.

didn't know you’d walk in.

That annoys you. A flick of your thumb and you're typing fast before you can stop yourself.

[You]

Don’t flatter yourself. You didn’t make me uncomfortable.

[You]

I’ve seen worse.

You hit send and set your phone down, heart beating faster than you’d like to admit.

But he responds almost immediately.

you sure? you looked like you saw a ghost.

You inhale sharply.

[You]

I was just surprised. That’s all.

Typing bubbles again. Then pause. Then again.

sunoo said you looked pissed.

[You]

Well, maybe tell Sunoo to mind his business.

Another pause.

Then finally:

you don’t like me much, do you.

Your fingers freeze.

For a second, you consider lying. Saying of course not, brushing him off.

But your thumb hovers too long.

And somehow, you type:

[You]

I don’t really know you.

This time, it takes a little longer before he replies.

But when it comes, it’s unexpected.

then maybe let me fix that.

You blink at the screen.

The cursor waits, asking what you'll do next.

The next day, Jungwon is already waiting in the hallway by the science building when you arrive.

It’s unusual—he’s unusual.

Not late. Not surrounded by a gaggle of students laughing at his latest offhanded charm. He’s just… there.

Leaning against the white-tiled wall with his arms folded, sleeves rolled up, and the usual smirk playing at his lips. But this time, it’s softer. Almost thoughtful.

You slow your steps. Part of you wants to ignore him. Pretend last night’s conversation didn’t exist. Pretend he wasn’t the reason your thoughts kept short-circuiting through biochemistry formulas you didn’t study for.

But of course, he notices you before you even consider slipping away.

“Morning, President,” he calls, straightening from the wall. “I was starting to think you’d ditch lab today.”

You give him a sidelong glance. “Why would I?”

As you step inside the lab, Jungwon follows quietly, his footsteps just a beat behind yours. For once, he doesn’t try to fill the silence with jokes or idle flirtation.

Just as you reach for your lab coat, he says it. Casual, but too quiet to be harmless.

“You seemed a little different last night.”

You pause mid-button, fingers stilling at your collar. “…What’s that supposed to mean?”

He shrugs, not meeting your eyes. “I don’t know. Maybe I had different views about you until yesterday.”

Your gaze narrows. “And what would you know about me last night?”

His lips twitch like he’s trying not to smile. “Just… stuff. The way you talked. Your messages. The way you suddenly replied. It felt different.”

There’s a weird pressure building in your chest. An old instinct, fight or flight.

Your voice comes out sharper than intended. “If this is your way of getting back at me for… walking into that night, then please—I hope you stop.”

That makes him blink.

For once, he doesn’t have a snarky comeback ready. He just watches you, expression unreadable, lips slightly parted like he wasn’t expecting that.

You drop your bag on the nearest chair and turn away from him, fixing your gloves with more focus than you need. The lab is silent except for the hum of overhead lights and the slow clink of glass being arranged.

And still, you can feel his gaze.

Heavy. Focused. Not the kind that undresses you, but the kind that unravels.

He doesn't speak again for the next ten minutes.

But whatever he’s thinking?

It lingers in the air between you strange, searching, and unsettlingly curious.

“Right, I read the sample analysis section you made this morning. You write well,” you say.

He grins, leaning closer as you reach for the lab equipment. “Well, maybe I wanted to impress you.”

You choke slightly on air. “Excuse me?”

Jungwon’s smile doesn’t falter. “What? I figured if you’re gonna think I’m just some fuck-up with a nice face, I should prove you wrong.”

His words hit sharper than they should. Like they were dipped in something hot before being handed to you.

You fix your gloves with more pressure than necessary. “I don’t think that,” you lie.

He hums. “You sure?”

You glance at him. He’s already pulling on his goggles, but the tilt of his mouth is too smug for someone who’s not enjoying this.

He’s trying.

Not in the way people usually do, with flowers or pick-up lines or chasing you through the quad. But trying in his own strange, infuriating way.

Jungwon, campus heartthrob, late to every second class, always with a hickey or two to hide, is suddenly showing up on time, preparing lab notes, offering to help you with the pH balance readout before you even ask.

And the most confusing part?

He’s not flirting like he usually does.

There’s no winks. No lazy drawls of your name. Just this steady, unnerving attention. Like you’re a problem he wants to understand, and maybe, just maybe, solve.

Halfway through titration, you break the silence.

“You know,” you say quietly, not looking up, “we barely know each other.”

Jungwon glances at you over the rim of his beaker.

“That’s kind of the point,” he says simply.

You glance back. “What?”

“I want to,” he says, voice calm, low, and sure. “Get to know you.”

You freeze.

There’s no laugh behind his words. No teasing. Just sincerity. Raw and strangely unfamiliar, coming from him.

You drop your eyes again, hands tightening around the glassware. “Why?”

He tilts his head like the answer is obvious. “Don’t you ever get tired of people pretending around you?”

You stare at the blue liquid swirling in the beaker.

Yes.

But you don’t say it.

Because how the hell does he know that?

Your grip on the beaker tightens, knuckles paling. For a second, you forget to swirl.

The silence hangs there, suspended like the acid fumes in the air. Unspoken, unexplainable.

Jungwon doesn’t push.

He just returns to his notes, pen scratching gently across the paper, like he hadn’t just peeled open something raw in you without ever looking up.

The rest of the lab passes with that same strange rhythm. You work in silence, too aware of his presence beside you, too aware of the weight in his glances when he thinks you’re not looking.

You don’t know what’s changed. Only that something has.

And whatever it is, it’s throwing off your balance.

When class ends, you’re the first to gather your things. You need air, space, anything to clear the mess in your head. You sling your bag over your shoulder, brushing past the last lab bench, when you hear him behind you again.

“Hey, wait.”

You stop. But you don’t turn around.

“About what I said earlier,” he continues, and his voice is softer now, almost hesitant. “I meant it. I want to know who you are. Not as the class president. Just… you.”

You swallow hard. “You’re weird today,” you mutter, forcing a laugh that doesn’t sound like yours.

Jungwon doesn’t respond immediately. Then, as you start walking again, he says quietly:

“Maybe you just finally started paying attention.”

You leave before he can say anything more.

That night, you lie on your bed, staring up at your ceiling as the hum of the city fills your ears through the open window.

Your phone is beside you, lit up with the unanswered messages from your org groupchat, some random memes from Sunoo, and one still unopened message from Jungwon, sent just now.

You hover over it, thumb twitching.

Lab partner:

Let’s meet again tomorrow. I’ll bring the spectrometer data.

…Also, I didn’t mean to make things weird. I just think you’re interesting. That’s all.

You stare at the screen for a long moment.

How does someone change overnight?

How does someone who never cared suddenly act like they see you?

You lock your phone and press it face-down onto your chest.

Maybe this is just how college goes. People are unpredictable. Feelings shift. You’ve seen it happen.

But deep down… something in your gut says this isn’t just feelings.

It’s something else.

Something you can’t quite name.

Not yet.

Jungwon watches your retreating figure until you disappear into the stairwell, the glass door swinging shut behind you with a soft click.

He exhales. Runs a hand through his hair.

What the hell are you doing to me?

"Yo!" A familiar voice calls from across the courtyard. Jay’s already halfway toward him, hands shoved in his hoodie pockets, lanyard swinging lazily from his neck. “You free?”

Jungwon nods wordlessly and falls into step beside him.

They walk in silence for a while, the wind cool and sharp against his skin. It's late afternoon now, the sun low, casting long shadows on the pavement as they make their way to the parking lot.

Jay’s halfway through a story about a classmate bombing their presentation when Jungwon suddenly cuts in.

"Hey," he says, voice low. “How stupid do you have to be… to not realize your long-time crush actually likes you back?”

Jay pauses mid-step. “Damn. Where’s that coming from?”

Jungwon doesn’t answer right away. He kicks at a pebble on the ground. “I mean, you’ve liked someone for so long, but you didn’t know—couldn’t tell—that they might feel the same.”

Jay raises a brow. “Well, I wouldn’t say the person is stupid. It’s not easy to assume something like that about your own crush. Most people don’t want to believe in something unless, they’re sure.”

Jungwon hums, thoughtful.

Jay goes on, more carefully now. “And if that person—the crush—doesn’t show anything? Doesn’t flirt, doesn’t confess, doesn’t even act like they notice you? Then yeah. I can see why you wouldn’t suspect it.”

He shrugs. “Especially if you’re the type who’s also good at hiding your own feelings. You both end up playing it cool. Two silent idiots in a stand-off.”

That earns a half-smile from Jungwon. “So, it’s a draw?”

“No,” Jay chuckles. “It’s a mess.”

Jungwon laughs, then quiets again, eyes drifting up to the campus skyline. The same classroom windows, the same building. But something feels different now.

He thinks about the way you looked at him today. Guarded. Defensive. Scared, almost, that he was pulling some kind of joke on you.

And god, maybe he deserved that. Maybe he was a joke, before yesterday.

But now… now he knows something else.

Not from gossip. Not from rumors.

From you. In your own thoughts.

He shakes his head.

“Still feels like I don’t deserve to know something she hasn’t said out loud.”

Jay glances sideways. “You saying you’re hearing confessions in your dreams now?”

Jungwon smirks faintly. “Something like that.”

They reach the parking lot. The quiet hum of passing cars fills the space between them.

Jay finally says, “So what are you gonna do?”

Jungwon leans against the side of his motorbike, crossing his arms. The late sun glints off his helmet, dangling loosely from the handlebars.

“I’m gonna stop pretending I don’t care,” he says. “And I’m gonna make sure she knows I see her now.”

Jay raises an eyebrow. “You really got it bad, huh?”

Jungwon doesn’t answer.

He just looks toward the building one last time, expression unreadable—but no longer unsure.

"Late birthday gift," Jay says casually, already fiddling with his car keys. "Didn't have time to hand it yesterday."

Jungwon rolls his eyes but there's a genuine grin tugging at his mouth as he peeks inside the bag.

Inside, there’s a simple keychain—a silver motorcycle charm—and a half-eaten pack of mint gum taped to a note that says “For fresh starts. Don’t mess it up.”

Jungwon shakes his head, amused. "You're the worst gift giver."

Jay grins, unapologetic. “You’re welcome, asshole.”

Jungwon slips the keychain into his pocket anyway, feeling the small weight of it settle there. It's stupid. It's small. But somehow, it feels heavier than it should.

Maybe because yesterday wasn't just about turning eighteen.

Maybe because it wasn’t just about the blessing he received.

It was about everything starting to tilt sideways—about seeing things he never allowed himself to see before.

About realizing that maybe, just maybe, the person you spent so long pretending you didn’t notice… was already standing in front of you, noticing you too.

Jay unlocks his car, tossing his bag into the backseat. "You coming?"

Jungwon swings his helmet onto his head, the faint jingle of the new keychain in his pocket.

"Nah," he says, voice a little lighter. "Think I'll stick around a bit."

He watches Jay pull out of the lot, then leans back against his bike, staring up at the dimming sky.

For the first time in a long while, Jungwon isn't rushing anywhere.

He’s just… waiting.

For once, he doesn't mind.

Or at least, he thinks he doesn't until he checks his phone and sees your name sitting quietly in his notifications.

No new message.

Just last night’s thread, and your last reply still stuck in his head.

Something pulls at him. Impulse, maybe. Or instinct.

Without thinking, he swings one leg over his bike, starts the engine, and makes a turn back toward the front of campus.

The tires crunch lightly against the pavement as he rolls to a smooth stop just outside the main gates. His eyes scan the crowd.

And there you are.

Walking alone, the sunset catching the edges of your hair, a plastic bag hanging from your wrist—maybe takeout, maybe something from the café nearby. Lost in thought, your expression unreadable.

Jungwon lifts his helmet’s visor, smirking.

“Hey, wife!”

Your head snaps up.

You freeze, eyes wide, mouth slightly open like the word itself just slapped you in the face.

Jungwon chuckles, resting his elbow casually on the handlebar. “What?” he says, shrugging. “Hop on. I’ll give you a ride.”

You blink, still in shock, unsure whether to roll your eyes, yell at him, or melt into the sidewalk.

Probably all three.

You stare at him like he just spoke in another language.

Wife.

Wife.

The word still echoes in your ears, sharp and ridiculous and dangerously familiar. Too familiar.

Your hand tightens around the plastic bag. “What did you just call me?”

Jungwon only grins, a maddening glint in his eyes. “You heard me.”

You narrow your gaze. “Is that supposed to be a joke?”

He shrugs, tapping the seat behind him. “Depends. Are you going to get on, or keep standing there like I didn’t just offer you the smoothest getaway from a long day of work?”

You glance at the bike. Then back at him. And suddenly your mind flashes, uninvited, to the dream you swore was just that: a dream.

A boy with dark hair, arms wrapped around you on a bike.

Laughter. Wind. A familiar warmth pressing into your back as the city blurred behind you.

You shake the thought away. No.

Absolutely not.

“Are you trying to be funny?” you ask tightly, your voice firmer than your heart feels. “Because I’m not laughing.”

Jungwon’s smirk softens. Not entirely, but enough that it startles you. There’s something in his eyes now, something quieter. Not playboy-charming. Not smug. Just… sincere.

“I’m not trying anything,” he says, almost too casually. “I just figured… we don’t really know each other, right?”

Your breath catches.

“And maybe,” he adds, his voice dipping lower, “you might want to get to know me too.”

For a moment, neither of you move. The wind brushes your hair into your face. His helmet gleams under the last stretch of sunset.

Then, slowly, you take a step forward.

His eyes flicker with something…surprise? Hope?

You raise an eyebrow. “Call me wife again and I’ll throw this bubble tea at your face.”

Jungwon laughs. Really laughs. “Noted.”

You roll your eyes. “One ride. That’s it.”

He pats the seat, triumphant. “One ride,” he echoes, and you swear his voice sounds just a little too satisfied.

You hesitate once more before climbing on, arms uncertain.

But when the engine roars to life, your fingers instinctively curl around his jacket.

And as the bike pulls away from campus, you don’t see the knowing smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

You don’t know he knew everything.

Not yet.

But soon—

You will.

masterlist.

lmk your thoughts :D

"where is it?"

you take a step back, looking over all of the jars until you found the one you were looking for. once you found it, you grabbed it before reading over the label to make sure its the right one. the last thing you needed was to put the wrong ingredient in your potion and mess everything up- especially when you needed the money.

it was perhaps a little frowned upon what you did- selling you potions while you were still in school. it wasn't against any rules to do it, so they really couldn't say anything. but a girls gotta do what a girls gotta do to survive. you weren't making nearly as much as you would when you graduated, but it was plenty enough for you and your familiar to get by.

"you finding everything okay, gorgeous?"

your gaze snaps up from the jar, eying the sketchy shop owner who was staring at you from down the aisle. his name was kevin, and if it weren't for the magic ban surrounding the building, he would be completely harmless. at least, you weren't completely weaponless.

you open your mouth to answer, but snap it shut when a black tail wraps around your waist. you look up to see your familiar jungwon staring at kevin with a sharp glare. his eyes turn feline before he lets out a loud hiss. it successfully scares away kevin who tells you he'll be at the register when you're ready.

jungwon's eyes return to normal before his dark gaze meets yours. "why can't we find another ingredient shop again?"

"because the closest one besides this one is an hour away." you respond, putting the jar in the basket he was holding. "besides, you know he's all talk."

"don't ever come here without me."

you roll your eyes, already quite familiar with his commands. you bite back your retort about how your technically the one in charge, and he should be listening to you. but you know that argument never goes anywhere, so you just find it easier to agree with your familiar.

it was very rare for familiars to be hybrids. none of the people at your school had one, and none of your teachers believed you when you said your familiar was a hybrid. it wasn't until he showed up one day with a shit eating grin and proving all of them wrong that they believed you.

you didn't care if they believed you or not, but you also don't blame them for not believing you. you didn't even believe it yourself at first. all you knew was that you were supposed to perform the spell that gives you your familiar on your 16th birthday. you followed everything perfectly- having studied the spell for months. but instead of getting an animal like everyone else, you got a sassy 5'9" black cat hybrid with ears that almost blended in with his black hair.

you didn't mind though. it was nice going through life with an actual person instead of an animal. especially since your parents all but abandoned you as soon as you turned 18. jungwon was there, helping you pick up all of your broken pieces and then some. he was a good familiar and a good friend. a friend that loved to blur the lines of friendship and make you confused about your feelings for him, but a friend nonetheless.

"yes sir." you half heartedly agree with him before moving to grab your last ingredient. you didn't make it very far because of his tail that was still wrapped around you, forcing you to look back at him. he raises his eyebrows as he stares down at you.

"i mean it kitten."

"i know you do, wonnie." you respond to him, rolling your eyes at the ironic nickname. he still looked like he didn't believe you, so you held up your hand to link up with his pinky. "i promise i will not come into this store alone."

he huffed, finally believing you and interlocking your fingers. "good girl." he leaned down, pressing a kiss to your temple before pulling away. "now where's the last ingredient, so we can get out of here."

you duck your head, feeling your face flush as you turn away from him. he follows you, keeping your tail around your wrist like he normally did. he's always been like this- touchy with you. you used to could be able to brush it off, but it started getting harder and harder to do. you didn't understand it, so you brought it up with your close friend and classmate, sunoo.

"oh, that's easy." he answered you instantly. "you like him."

you roll your eyes at his answer. "of course i like him. he's my familiar."

"no, you idiot. i mean you like him more than that."

you originally refused the answer that sunoo gave you. it wasn't until you thought about it that you finally agreed with him. he gloated, but it didn't last long with you said you weren't going to do anything about it. you couldn't be with him.

he was your familiar. you two were bound for life. what if you two got together and broke up? that would make things unnecessarily awkward. that's if he returned those feelings- which you didn't think he did. you would rather just suck it up and ignore them. sunoo didn't agree with any of what you said, and to this day is still trying to convince you to try.

jungwon let out a satisfied sigh once you gave him your last ingredient. he then held out his hand making you roll your eyes. his tail lets go of you when you start digging in your bag before pulling out your wallet. you hand it to him before following him to the register. his broad shoulders block you completely as he checks out. you notice jungwon give kevin one last glare before he leads you out of the store.

"i would still prefer it if we found another shop." jungwon mumbled as the two of you walked down the street where your car was parked.

"i know." you tell him, reaching out and grabbing his hand before stopping him. he looks down at you with a curious gaze. "next time, we will go to a different one. deal?"

the corners of his eyes crinkled as he smiled brightly down at you, happy he's getting his way. "deal."

the next time you had to go to that dreaded shop was two weeks after yours and jungwon's initial deal. you know he was going to kill you for not bringing him. you weren't technically breaking your promise because you only promised that you weren't going alone, and you weren't. you were bringing sunoo who you've told about the whole situation.

"i feel like this is going to end bad." he retorted as the two of you got out of the car. you shrugged your shoulders before starting to walk down the street.

"probably, but i need these ingredients today." you had someone offer you double your original price if you could get this potion to them tomorrow, and you would be stupid if you didn't accept that. only issue is that jungwon wasn't around to accompany you.

"and why can't jungwon come?"

"i already told you. an arcade opened up downtown. him and jake have been waiting months for it to open. i don't want to ruin that for him."

jake was a fellow golden retriever hybrid that belonged to a mutual friend of your, heeseung. the two of them have been close since you two introduced them a little over a year ago.

"you know he wouldn't mind rescheduling." he told you as he held the door open for you.

"i know that." you sighed, walking into the store. you look around, not seeing kevin just yet. "but i feel like he deserves this. he shouldn't have to suffer because one asshole can't take a hint."

sunoo looked around before looking back at you. "you know this is the only place around here that inhibits our powers? maybe you should listen to jungwon and go to the one i go to. i know the owner, jay. he's pretty cool."

"jungwon and i were talking about it, but i don't have time to drive that far for this order." you tell him as the two of you start grabbing the jars you need. you were thankful he knew exactly what you needed for this potion, so the two of you could hurry and get out of there.

"i still don't know if you're going to have enough time." sunoo told you as you continued to scour the store. "why did you accept the offer anyway?"

you sighed before looking to sunoo. "i need the money. you know jungwon's birthday is comming up. i want to get him something special."

"what are you going to get him?"

"he's been wanting a gaming set up, so he can play with jake and heeseung online instead of having me drive him over there. i didn't realize how expensive it was before coming up with the idea." you explain. when you didn't get a response from sunoo, you look over to see him smirking at him.

"you gonna tell him you're in love with him while you're at it?" you open your mouth to respond to him, but someone interrupted you before you could say anything.

"hey gorgeous. how are you doing today?"

you meet sunoo's gaze for a moment before turning around and seeing kevin standing behind the counter. "doing good. how about you?"

"better since you're here." you roll your eyes at his answer before going back to looking through the store.

"oh my god." sunoo whispered, walking up next to you. "you didn't say he was that creepy."

"yes i did." you laugh at him.

"he's glaring daggers at me." sunoo whined. "we need to hurry."

you nod your head, grabbing the last thing you need. "okay. we can go."

you and sunoo walk over to the counter where kevin was. you handed him the basket, and he started ringing everything up. you were always behind jungwon for this part, so it felt weird watching him- especially when he couldn't even take his eyes off of you for more than two seconds.

"who's your friend?" the two of you look over at kevin when he motions to sunoo. you look over to sunoo with an apologetic expression- which he brushes off before smiling at him.

"i'm sunoo. yn's boyfriend." you eyes widened at his answer for a second before you recover. kevin pauses ringing you up as he looks at you.

"what happened to the cat?"

you finally meet his eyes- this time with a glare. "his name is jungwon, and he is none of you business."

kevin got the message, continuing to ring you up. you feel sunoo grab your hand, squeezing reassuringly which you return. once kevin had everything checked out, he handed you back your basket while he printed out the receipt. once it was printed, he held it up to you with what you thought was a disgusted look.

"so you're little cat doesn't mind you whoring yourself around?" you hear sunoo let out a gasp as you gawk at him. it took you a few seconds to respond to his insult, but once you did, you let out a scoff.

"so because i'm not interested you, i'm a whore?" you question, snatching the receipt out of his hand. "if that's the case, sunoo i guess you're dating a whore."

you quickly turn, not allowing him to respond before you storm out of the store. you hear sunoo running to catch up with you as you make your way back to your car.

"are you okay?" sunoo asked.

"peachy." you answer as the two of you got inside of the car. once you start the car, you let out a groan of frustration as you lay your head on the steering wheel. "we should've went to the other place."

"you're telling jungwon about that right?"

"no." you hear sunoo groan at your answer. "you know exactly what he's going to do, and i don't have bail money."

"you need to tell him. he has no right to say those things to you." you look over at sunoo, knowing that he's right, but not having any clue on how to tell him. you knew he was going to be mad at you, and you hated when he was.

"i know." you sigh, running your hand over your face. "i will. just let me finish this order, and i will tell him."

"okay."

the next day, you had somehow successfully managed to complete the order when it was needed. you don't know how you did it. you had to stay up all night to complete it. thankfully jungwon decided to stay over at heeseung's, so he didn't wonder why you were staying up so late.

you still didn't know how you were going to tell him about yesterday. you thought of every possible way to tell him while you worked on the potion, but none of them seemed good enough. maybe it was just the lack of sleep keeping you from thinking properly.

you had just fallen asleep on the couch when the front door slammed shut. you nearly jump out of your skin at the sound, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes when you saw jungwon storm into the living room. in your half asleep state, you couldn't see the angry expression on his face as you greet him.

"hey wonnie. how was-"

"don't hey wonnie me." he interrupted, confusing you. "why did i just get a call from sunoo telling me the two of you went to kevin's shop yesterday?"

that question woke you up real quick. "look, i was going to tell you, but i fell asleep."

"you shouldn't have to tell me anything. you shouldn't have gone at all. you promised me you would go in there without me." you shrink under jungwon's glare.

"i said i wouldn't go alone, and i didn't."

"you know damn well that's not what i meant." you jump as jungwon glares at you. "what if he tried something? you and sunoo are practically useless without your magic."

your face falls as his words hit you. "jungwon-"

"do you have any idea how irresponsible and dangerous that was?" jungwon questioned. "what was so important that you just had to go back there?"

at least sunoo didn't give that away. not like it mattered. you couldn't bring yourself to even look at him- too ashamed at yourself. your answer wouldn't matter anyway. jungwon just made that clear that he didn't feel the same about you.

you hear jungwon scoff in anger. "of course you don't have an answer. i'm going to stay with jake and hee until you can answer me."

you wait until you hear the front door slam shut before the tears start to fall. you didn't know how you were going to get him to forgive you for this.

you spent the next two days in bed, completely distraught of yours and jungwon's argument. you understood what you did was against what he wanted, so his anger was warranted. but his words weren't- which really hurt you. you tried to call him a couple of times but he didn't answer.

at first you thought it was because he was trying to calm down, but then the doubts started creeping in. maybe he finally got tired of you like your parents. maybe he realized you needed him way more than he needed you- not like he needed you in the first place.

all of these thoughts kept haunting you, even when you were in class. you ended up skipping your last period- choosing to spend the rest of the afternoon trying to catch up from you spacing out during classes.

you were in the middle of reading when someone pulled out the chair in front of you. you looked up, seeing a guilty sunoo sit down in front of you. you look at him for a moment before going back to your work. you know you shouldn't be mad at him. it was your fault, but you wanted to be the one to tell jungwon. you didn't know if it would have made a difference though, but at this point it didn't matter. it already happened, and there wasn't anything you could do to change it.

you look back up when sunoo slides something towards you. you eye the drink he got you, which was your favorite, before looking back at him. "yn, i'm sorry. when i brought that up, i thought you had already told him. i wouldn't have said anything if i knew."

"i know you wouldn't." you tell him, grabbing the drink before taking a sip. "i have no one to blame but myself."

"how did he react? he sounded upset over the phone." you looked away from him at his question, shrugging your shoulders.

"about as bad as you'd expect." you answer, trying not to think of the argument because you knew you would cry again if you did. "he yelled at me before leaving. i haven't seen him since."

sunoo's eyes widened. "he left?"

"he asked me what was so important that i went there for. when i wouldn't tell him, he said he was staying with jake and heeseung until i gave him an answer." you explain, blinking back tears. "i messed up, sunoo. he won't answer any calls or texts from me. i had to call heeseung and make sure he was okay."

"now i feel even worse." sunoo started to tell you but you cut him off.

"don't. it was my fault."

"i still feel bad. i don't even see how you're functioning right now?" sunoo told you. "i feel like i can't be away from daisy for more than a few hours before i start to feel bad."

you let out a sigh as you rest your head on the table. "i feel like shit."

everyone knew the rules of witches. they weren't supposed to be away from their familiars once they got one. the longer the two were apart, the worst the witch felt. you were being scarce with your answer to sunoo. it felt like a piece of you was missing. you were doing everything in your power to not go marching over to heeseung's and seeing him. the only reason you weren't was you were still upset with him.

"you need to go and see him." you look up at sunoo. "i'll come with you after school." you shake your head, mumbling about how you didn't want to see him. "yn, you know it's only going to get worse."

"you didn't hear what he said, sunoo. i know he only said them out of anger, but they still hurt. the last thing i want to do right now is see him."

"what are you going to do?"

"i don't know, but i'll figure something out." you brush it off, wanting to pull away from the subject. "but for now, help me catch up with what i missed."

sunoo looked at you for a moment before nodding his head. "okay."

the two of you studied for a few hours before the two of you went your separate ways. you rubbed at your tired eyes as you unlocked the door to your apartment. you really didn't want to come here since jungwon wasn't here, but you didn't really have any other options.

you close the door, sliding off your shoes when you noticed something. jungown's shoes were in his usual spot. it was then that you could feel his presence. he was here. that made you more nervous than you thought it would. you didn't want him yelling at you again.

you throw your bag on the ground before walking out of the entry way and sure enough, jungwon was there, sitting on the couch while scrolling on his phone. you saw his ear twitch at the sound of your footsteps before he looked up at you. you nearly flinch at his gaze as he stared at you, not making any notion of being the first to talk.

you decided to speak up first. "are you back?"

jungwon shifted, putting his phone in his pocket before patting the spot right next to him. you shift your weight before walking over to him and sitting next to him. you kept your distance though, not knowing if he wanted you close to him.

"you really hurt me, yn." you find your eyes watering as you listen to him. "i asked you not to do something, and you agreed not to just to turn around and do it."

your eyes trail down to your lap where your fingers were playing with your jewelry- a habit you did when you were nervous. "i'm really sorry. i never wanted to hurt you. i thought of sunoo came with me, it would've been okay."

"why didn't you just come to me?" you feel his eyes on you after he asks the question, but you didn't make any move to look at him.

"you had plans with jake and i-" you try to explain, but jungwon stops you.

"that's not an excuse."

"it is for me." you finally look up and meet his gaze. you could tell he was trying hard not to get angry, so you tried to pick your words carefully. "you had been looking forward to those plans for weeks. you had already done so much for me, and i just wanted you to be able to go out and have fun."

"i would've rescheduled." he told you. "you know i would have. we could've went to the other one, and none of this would have happened."

"i know you would've, but i didn't want you to." you pull away from his gaze, not wanting to look at him for your next admission. it was better for him to know everything, even if it upset him even more. "i also didn't have time to go to the other one."

"what do you mean?"

"i took an express order." you told him. the two of you talked about it a couple of times, and you both agreed that you wouldn't do it unless you thought it necessary. "they wanted it by the next morning, so i didn't have time to drive all the way there and back."

you hear jungwon let out a sigh, and you already had a feeling you knew what his next question would be. "are you going to tell me what was so important that you did all of this for?"

"i'm honestly shocked you haven't figured it out yet." you admit as you look over at him again. you watched his eyebrows furrow in confusion. you normally rub your thumb along the crinkle of his forehead when he does that, but you interlocked your fingers to prevent yourself from doing so. "what's coming up next week, wonnie?"

it takes him a second, but he finally figures it out. "kitten, i told you i didn't want anything for my birthday. you already spent enough with heeseung for the party next week."

"do you really think i'm not going to get the most important person to me a gift for their 21st birthday?" you question. "who do you think i am?"

"you're making it really hard to be upset with you." jungwon told you. he was still trying to keep his composure, but all it took was one smile from you for him to loose it. you let out a sigh of relief as the rest of his anger slid away when he laughed. "why didn't you just say that two days ago?"

"you kind of didn't give me a chance." you answer him. your happy mood darkened when you remembered the argument, and what he said to you. you blink away your tears before shifting farther away from him than you were- an act that didn't go unnoticed.

jungwon moved over, grabbing your waist before pulling you to him. you straddled his legs as he pulled you to his chest. you wrapped your arms around his neck, and jungwon swore he felt his heart break when you started crying. "i'm so sorry for what i said, kitten."

"i didn't mean any of it." he continued, rubbing his hand down your back to try to comfort you. "you're not useless or irresponsible. you are the complete opposite. i wouldn't be able to function without you by my side."

"i thought you were going to leave me." jungwon's arms tightened around you at the confession.

"never." he pulled you away from him. he looked at you softly while brushing away your tears before cupping your cheeks and making you look at him. "you're stuck with me for the rest of your life."

"you promise?"

jungwon nodded, kissing your temple before pulling you back into his arms. "i promise."

after you and jungwon made up, things between the two of you almost went back to the way they were before. key word being almost. you couldn't understand what was different, but there was something different about the two of you that you couldn't put your finger on.

you tried to explain it to sunoo, but for once, he didn't have an answer either- just as stumped as you were. you choose to just brush it off since it wasn't causing any harm. you didn't have any choice since today was jungwon's party.

jake has kept jungwon busy all day while you, heeseung, and sunoo help set up everything. it took most of the day for you three to set everything up, and you were pretty sure your hands were going to be sore tomorrow from tying so many balloons. but it was worth it. heeseung's place looked great.

people had already started to show up when you and sunoo were finishing up setting up the food. heeseung turned on the music and dimmed the lights while you did one last look around to make sure everything was perfect.

you pulled out your phone to text jungwon to see when he would be here when something wrapped around your waist. you glance down, seeing the black tail that you know belonged to your familiar before turning around. he laughs, catching you when you jump into his arms.

"happy birthday, wonnie."

"thank you kitten." he kissed your cheek as he set you down. "this place looks great. you and heeseung did a good job."

"i helped too!" you turn when you hear sunoo's voice.

you pulled away from jungwon, so he could greet sunoo. the three of you stand there for a minute, talking about setting up when some other friends of his came to greet jungwon. you and sunoo shared a look before you both moved away, so he could hang out with his friends, though you stopped when jungwon's tail wrapped around your wrist.

"where are you going?"

"i'm going to get a drink." you answer. "i'll catch up with you. go have fun with your friends."

though you kind of regret that now. the party's been in swing for a few hours, and you all have just sang happy birthday to him. people, including you, were starting to get tipsy from alcohol. you were still fully aware what was going on, but you could feel the effects of the alcohol despite this only being your third drink. you blame yourself for allowing heeseung to mix the drinks.

you were talking with two witches from your class, glancing back occasionally to check on jungwon. he was sitting on the couch on the other side of the room from you. you haven't been able to talk to him since earlier, and it seemed like every time you tried, he would get swamped with friends.

this time when you glanced back, you noticed that there was a new girl sitting next to him- another cat hybrid. you didn't recognize her as you looked her over. her brown hair was pulled into a high ponytail, and her dress was very short. you shrugged her off at first, thinking she was just a friend. but then she placed her hand on his thigh with a flirty smile, and jungwon didn't push her away. you felt your heart sink when he smiled back at her.

you look away from them, staring down at your drink while you tried to hide your jealousy. of course he wouldn't want a witch. why would he when he could have a pretty hybrid like the one right next to him? you felt yourself become sick at the thought of him being someone else's. you turn back around to look again when someone wrapped their arm around your shoulder.

"what's cooking, good looking?" you smile before looking up and meeting the eyes of jake.

"hey jake." you greet, turning to him fully. "you having fun?"

he pulled you closer to him, leaning down so you could hear him. "you and hee really know how to throw a party. you need to do mine next."

"of course." you agree. "you could do it early on halloween and have everyone dress up."

jake gasped, clearly loving the idea. "you're a genius babe! you should dress up as tinker bell and i'll be peter pan."

"jungwon could be your wendy." you joked, laughing when jake doubled over in laughter. clearly, he had a little too much to drink. once he recovered, he pulled you back underneath his arm, which wasn't anything new. everyone knew jake was touchy. "speaking of jungwon. who's that girl next to him?"

jake turned and looked, letting out a scoff before turning back to you. "that's sarah. she's been trying to get with jungwon for i don't know how long."

"he's never mentioned her to me." you hum, taking a sip of your drink and nearly spitting it out when jake gets close to your face again.

"probably because he hates her."

it was your turn to let out a scoff. you turned to see if they were still in the same position as before, and they were. "where do you see that? the two are currently cuddled up on the couch together."

"are you jealous?" you roll your eyes at his question. thankfully the lights were dim enough to hide your blush.

"no. they're just painting a different picture than what you're saying."

"don't worry, babe. you're secret's safe with me." jake smiles at you when you shove him. "not like it's much of a secret anyway. you two are so obvious about it."

"shut up." you glare. you didn't miss the fact that he said the two of you instead of just you. you just didn't want to believe him. especially not with the scene that was playing out behind you.

"wanna make him jealous?" he asks, confusing you.

"how would we do that?"

"do you trust me?" you shrug at his question.

"i probably shouldn't."

you look away for a moment, greeting a friend as they passed by you two. as soon as you turn your attention back to jake, you jump in shock when his lips meet yours. you don't even kiss him back. you just stand there when he's ripped away from you. your view of jake is blocked by jungwon.

"what the fuck jake?"

"come on man." you hear jake's whine. "we were having fun. weren't we yn?"

jungwon turned around, looking down at still very confused you. you could see his eyes flickering between his normal ones and his cat like ones- a clear sign he was mad. his hand suddenly grabbed your wrist before pulling you away.

"jungwon? what are you doing?" you question as he pulls you towards the stairs. apparently, you weren't going fast enough because jungwon turned to you again. you let out a yell when he threw you over his shoulder before making his way upstairs. "jungwon, what the hell? put me down!"

he ignored you and kept walking until he reached the guest bedroom where he stays when he's here. you let out another yell when he throws you onto the bed. you bounce at the movement before you hear the door slam shut. you look over at jungwon like he had lost his mind.

"what the hell is wrong with you?"

"i should be asking you that." jungwon retorted. "why the hell were you kissing jake?"

you let out a groan before standing up. "i didn't do anything. blame your best friend."

he didn't respond to you causing you to look over at him. he still had a glare on his face as he stalked towards you like you were pray. you didn't move out of your spot as when he stopped in front of you. "you shouldn't have kissed him. you aren't his."

what the hell was that supposed to mean? you weren't jakes? did that mean you were his? you couldn't tell how he meant it. as a friend? more than a friend? you didn't think a friend would get mad at you for kissing some one. was jake right when he said jungwon liked you back?

"i didn't kiss jake." you told him when you recovered from his words. "he asked me if i trusted him. i stupidly said yes, and he kissed me. i didn't kiss him back, and i didn't even have a chance to push him away before you showed up." jungwon looks at you for a moment. once he could tell you were telling the truth, he moved away before trying to leave the room. "where are you going?"

"to kill jake." you flicked your wrist when jungwon opened the door causing the door to slam shut. you didn't only shock jungwon, but also yourself with that move. you never used magic on jungwon. he tried to open the door, but he knew it wouldn't budge until you opened it yourself. he turned to you with a look you haven't seen from him before. "open the door yn."

"no." you stand your ground. "you can't just throw me over your shoulder, tell me i'm not jakes, and then leave. what are you even going to do when you go back out there? yell at jake before going back to sarah?"

you let the words flow out of your mouth without even thinking about them. you weren't sure where this confidence was coming from. "maybe i should go back out there too. i could find jake, and we can finish what we started."

a low growl comes out of his mouth when he storms back to you. this time when he reaches you, his hand wraps around your hair, pulling your head back to look up at him. his eyes feline as he bent down to your level. "you are mine. do you understand me? mine."

"then prove it."

his hand tightens around your hair at your words before his lips slam into yours. the hand that isn't tangled in your hair grips your waist and pulls you closer to him. your hands move to grip his shirt as you kiss him back. his tongue slides past your lips before tangling with yours, causing a soft moan to escape. his grip on your waist tightens around your waist before he pulls away from you.

when he pulled back, he rested his head on yours. his eyes weren't feline anymore. the reality of what just happened hit you. your familiar kissed you. you kissed him back. and now that you have, you never wanted him to stop. his hand fell from your hair before brushing against your cheek.

"kitten." his lips brushed against yours as he spoke. "if you don't want this, you need to tell me to stop, and we'll forget this ever happened."

he was giving you the chance to back away. you stuttered for a moment, thinking that maybe he wanted to stop. but then you felt his erection pressing against your stomach. he wanted this just as much as you.

instead of responding to him, you leaned up, capturing his lips once again. jungwon got the message, kissing you back while his hands explored every inch of you. his hands slid under your shirt, slowly trailing up while his lips left yours before moving to your neck.

you let out a gasp when his hands cupped your breasts as he left a dark bruise on your neck. you gripped his shoulders to keep steady when he pulled his face away from your neck. he kissed you one last time before pulling away.

"are you sure you want this, yn?"

"i do." you instantly answered him, a desperate plea in your tone. "please, wonnie."

whatever hesitation jungwon had disappeared the moment you begged for him. you could see the shift in him, and it turned you on even more. "then get on your knees, kitten."

you did as he said, sitting on your knees before looking up at him. he let out a groan before his hand brushed your cheek. "always my perfect girl. listening to everything i say. isn't that right?" you nod your head at his question. "here's what gonna happen kitten. you're going to be a good girl and suck my cock before i have fun with that pretty pussy okay?"

you let out a whine at his words, not used to your familiar talking to you so crude. he could tell you loved it though by the subtle shift in your thighs. once you nodded your head, you watched as his hands went to his jeans. he unbuttons his jeans before sliding them and his boxers down his hips. you eyes widen as his dick springs out, but you didn't make any move towards him. not until he motioned you forward did you move.

one had rested on his thigh while the other one wrapped around his length. you pump his length a few times, earning a groan from jungwon before you leaned forward. you licked the underside of his length before placing his head in your mouth and sucking. you watched as jungwon threw his head back as you started to bob your head, using your hand for what you couldn't fit in your mouth.

"my sweet kitten- fuck." you nearly gagged when he thrusted into your mouth. his hand moved around to grip your hair again as he continued to move his hips. you kept your hands on his hips for stability. "are you going to let me cum in this pretty mouth, kitten?"

you moan at his words, feeling your eyes start to water. you could tell he was getting close from the sounds he was making. after a few more thrusts, you felt his release hit the back of your throat, making you gag. when he pulled away from you, you let out cough after you swallowed. you were catching you breath when you saw him bend down.

"open." you do as he says, opening your mouth to show him. "good girl."

your arms wrap around his neck as his lips press against yours. you try to get up, but you feel yourself being lifted by jungwon before you could. your legs wrap around his waist as he carries you over to bed. you felt your back hit the bed as jungwon laid you down. his teeth bite your bottom lip before he pulls away.

his hands grip the bottom of your shirt, and you sit up enough for him to pull it over your head. his lips attach to your neck, biting and marking every place his lips touch. you arch into his touch when his hands squeeze your breasts.

"so responsive, kitten."

his hands squeeze your breast again before he moves to unhook your bra. he slides it down your arms, throwing it before moving down your body. you let out a moan when his lips attach to your nipple, sucking harshly.

"fuck, wonnie."

he smirks against your breast, clearly loving the sounds that are coming out of you. he continues to bite and suck, leaving bruises all over your chest and stomach. he stops at the hem of your jeans and chuckles when you shift your hips.

"does my girl need some relief?"

"yes." you answer, jumping when he bits your thigh. "please wonnie."

he kneels down between your legs, quickly unbuttoning your pants before pulling them down your legs. his lips ghost up your thigh as he makes his way to your heat. "god, kitten. you're never wearing clothes around me again."

jungwon lifts your legs, placing them over his shoulder as he lines his face with your heat. he tests the waters, sticking his tongue out, tasting you and groaning as he does so. after a small whine from you, he finally gives you the relief you want. his tongue darts out again, easily finding your clit. you back arches when he flicks it before attaching his lips to it.

"fuck." you roll your hips against his face. the action causes a groan to come out of jungwon.

"i can't believe i waited so long to do this." he mumbles against you. "you taste so good, kitten."

he trails his fingers around your entrance before slowly pushing his index finger in. you squeeze around his finger as you adjust to him. your hands grip the sheets, a moan coming out of your mouth when he curls his finger.

"wonnie." you cry out when he eases a second finger inside of you. his speed increased while his tongue continued to move in patterns on your clit. you were a moaning mess beneath him, gripping his hair in your hand while he brought you closer to your climax. "wonnie, i- fuck."

you couldn't even fully warn him before you climaxed. jungwon tightened his grip on your waist, continuing his movements and not showing any signs of slowing down. you felt overly sensitive as you came down from your high, trying to pull away from jungwon. he open his eyes before looking up at you.

"you can handle one more, right kitten?" you found yourself nodding at his question before you could even think. "one more before i fill you with my cock."

you whine at his words. you feel jungwon smirk against you before his lips reattaches to your clit. you moan out his name again, completely losing yourself in his touch. it didn't take long at all for your second climax to build back up.

"wonnie, i'm-"

"i know, kitten." you hear him say. "you're going to be my perfect girl and cum all over my fingers again, aren't you?"

"yes." you moan out.

all it took was one more curl of jungwon's fingers before you climaxed again. he helped you through your high before pulling away from you. his lips ghost up your body before pressing against you lips. his tongue pushes through your lips, brushing against yours. he pulled away, giving you one last kiss before leaning up.

"roll over kitten." you do as he says and rolling over onto your stomach. jungwon grabs your waist, pulling you to where you were on your knees. you look over your shoulder when you hear rustling. he discarded the rest of his clothes before looking at you. his hands run over your ass before kneading the flesh. "who does this ass belong to yn? does it belong to jake?"

you jump slightly when his hand lands on your cheek. "no."

"then who does it belong to?"

"you." he slaps your ass again at your answer.

"i didn't quite catch that kitten."

"you, wonnie." you whine. he groans in satisfaction, running his hands over the spot he spanked.

"that's right. so what aren't we going to let jake do again?"

"kiss me." you answer, jumping when he spanked you. you look in confusion to see him clearly waiting for the right answer. "touch me?" he spanked you again. you let out a whine of frustration as he slid his dick through your folds. "anything because he's not you?"

"good girl." you let out a loud moan when jungwon entered you in one smooth thrust. he stills, allowing you a moment to adjust. he leans forward, pressing kisses along your spine. "do you feel how well your pussy takes me kitten? like she knew she was mine this whole time."

you whimper at his words, silently begging him to move. you shift your hips as you try to get him to move. he gets the message, tightly gripping your waist before he pulls almost completely out of you. he slams back into you full force, a choked moan coming out of you at his speed. if he didn't have such a good grip on you, you don't think you would be able to hold yourself up- even if you were pretty sure there were going to be bruises tomorrow.

"fuck wonnie."

"does that feel good?"

"s-so good."

the only thing that could be heard was the slapping of skin, along with the two of your moans. you didn't think he could possible go any faster, but he did the closer he got to his climax. he let out a groan when you squeezed him. "fuck, kitten. i'm not- fuck."

his hand left your hip when you squeezed him again. you gasp as his hand finds your clit, rubbing harshly and bringing you close to your climax. "wonnie. please."

"come on, kitten." jungwon leaned forward again, kissing your shoulder. "let me feel you cum all over me."

you felt tears prick your eyes as you climax for the third time- his name falling from your lips. he groans when you squeeze him, bringing him to his own climax. you feel him fill you before he pulls out of you. he catches you when your legs finally give out on you, helping you lay down.

"you did so good, kitten." he whispers as he presses light kisses to your face, ending on your lips. "i didn't hurt you, did i?"

you shook your head, a small smile gracing your lips as you looked at him. "no, wonnie. you didn't hurt me."

a yawn came out of your mouth, the exhaustion of your guys activities finally hitting you. jungwon leaned down, kissing your forehead.

"rest kitten. i'll take care of you."

you let out a soft groan, wiping the sleep from your eyes before blinking them open. you freeze, not recognizing the room you were in until it hit you. you were in jungwon's room. a room that you don't normally come in unless necessary because he's very particular about scents. but here you were, in his bed. you look down to also see that you were in one of his shirts.

you remember faintly what happened after jungwon gave you the best night of your life. he helped clean you up before redressing you. he wanted to leave heeseung's, but you couldn't remember why. you do remember him hissing at jake when he stepped to close to you as he was carrying you to the car. you fell asleep in the car, and don't remember anything after that.

you shift slightly, feeling an arm tighten around your waist. you turn your head to see jungwon tucked into your back. his breathing shallow as he sleeps next to you. he frowned when you shifted again, and in his sleep, his tail moved to slide around your bare thigh.

maybe in jake's drunken stupor he was right. maybe jungwon did feel the same. you really hoped so at least, and it wasn't just sex. if it was just sex to him, he wouldn't have taken care of you while you were asleep. he wouldn't have changed you into his clothes before putting you in his bed. he wouldn't be wrapped around you like he didn't want you to leave if it was just sex. you really hoped so because you wouldn't survive it was just sex.

before you could go down that road, your bladder stopped you. you really had to use the bathroom. you struggled, gently unwrapping his tail before his arm. you shifted closer to the edge of the bed before sitting up. right as you sat up, jungwon's arm wrapped around you again, pulling you to him. you land back on the bed with a yelp before looking up at jungwon who was hovering over you.

"where are you going kitten?"

you swallow when his nose brushes yours. "i- um. bathroom."

"you sure about that?" he teased, noticing your stuttering. you flush before nodding your head. he moved off of you to lay next to you. "use mine."

you look over at him in shock, but didn't ask him why as you got back up. the only time you were ever in his bathroom was before you moved in here. you turn on the light, shutting the door before doing your business. you looked in the mirror after you were done, expecting that you would look a mess since you didn't take your make up off last night. your hair was slightly messed up from sleeping, but there wasn't any makeup on your face. did jungwon take off your makeup?

you leave the bathroom, more confused than when you came in there. you see him laying in bed, back facing you. you thought he fell asleep again, but he shifted when you heard you walk back in the room. he lifted his arm, silently calling you back to him.

"did you take off my makeup?" you ask as you shuffle back towards him.

"yes. you hate sleeping in your makeup." he shrugged like it was nothing. you felt your heart flip at his words. he really did take care of you while you were asleep.

as soon as your thighs brushed the bed, jungwon lifted up the blankets for you. you hesitantly slid back in and pulled the covers over you before laying on your back, looking at the ceiling. you hear him chuckle causing you to look over at him. he was resting on his arm, looking down at you with an amused look.

"what's wrong kitten?" he questions. "you look nervous. you weren't nervous last night."

you roll your eyes at his innuendo. "i'm not nervous."

"then what are you?"

"confused." you answer hesitantly. he watches you as you look away from him. "you told me a hundred times never to come in your room, but here i am. in your room. in your bed. after using your bathroom."

jungwon shifts closer to you, moving his hand to play with yours. "ask me why i asked you to not come in here."

"why?" you ask after a moment.

"i couldn't deal with your scent in here." he answered. you furrowed your brows in confusion, sort of hurt from that sentence. "i'm already tortured by your sweet scent everywhere else in this apartment. i needed somewhere safe, or i was going to do something crazy."

"crazy like?"

"last night." he looked up at you when you snatched your hand away from him. you looked away, but not quick enough for him to see you blink back tears.

you move away from him, trying to get out of the bed. "i knew it just sex for you."

"hey." he grabbed your waist, stopping you again from getting up. you struggled, trying to pry his arm off of you, but it was useless. he pulled you back to him. "it was not just sex for me."

"you just said it was crazy." you sniffle, still not looking at him.

"i meant the part where i threw you over my shoulder in the middle of the party." he clarified. "not the part where we had sex."

"so you don't regret it?" you ask, finally looking over at him. he removed his hand from your waist, cupping your cheeks and wiping a few stray tears.

"no." he answered. "i wish our first time wouldn't have been in the middle of a party, but i don't regret it. nor would i change a thing. i meant everything that happened last night."

you nod your head, believing him. he smiled at you before leaning down and catching your lips with his. unlike last night, the kiss was soft and unrushed. you lift up your hand, brushing it along his fluffy cat ear. he pulls you closer to him before settling in between your legs. his tongue tangles with yours as his hands explored your body.

"you belong to me." jungwon whispers against your lips as he pulls away. his fingers grip your thigh, running over an old scar. "all your scars? mine." you jump, a gasp coming out of your mouth when he cups your heat. "this pussy? mine." his hand then trailed up before tapping your chest. "this heart? mine. just like mine belongs to you."

your eyes widen at his confession. "wonnie-"

"i knew i was yours the moment we met." he told you, brushing your hair behind your ear. "i'll never forget it. the way you looked at me with those wide eyes. i knew i was a goner. i knew that i would do anything you asked me to just so i could stay by your side."

your at a loss for words. not like he gives you a chance anyway because he kisses you again. you pull him closer, melting in his embrace. his lips pulled away when you needed oxygen. he kissed the corner of your mouth before trailing down your jaw.

"the first thing i felt when i conjured you was fear." you mumble, smiling when he chuckles against your neck. "it wasn't because i was scared of you. i was scared of how you made me feel. what 16 year old girl falls in love with her hybrid familiar?"

you feel his lips stop kissing your neck when his words hit him. he pulls back, looking down at you. "please tell me you meant to say that."

"say what, wonnie?" you ask, a teasing hint to your voice. a whine slips past his lips at the teasing. "i wouldn't have said it if i didn't mean it."

"say it again. please."

"i love you, jungwon." as soon as the words leave your mouth, his lips pressed to yours. his hands cup your cheeks as he tried to get closer to you. his lips stayed against yours until your lungs felt like they were going to explode.

"i love you, yn." he told you as he pulled away. you let out a relieved breath that he felt the same. "i love you so much, kitten. seeing you with jake last night nearly killed me."

"so did me seeing you with sarah." you told him. you watched as his features turned to confusion.

"who's sarah?"

"the bitch you were with last night." you answered. "she was all over you."

you watch as jungwon smiled at you. you then realized the mistake of your words. "jealous, kitten?"

"i hate you." you grumble, upset you fell into his trap.

"no you don't." he smiled before kissing you. "you love me."

"i change my mind." you laugh as he gasps at you.

"take it back." you shake your head. you scream when his hands attack your sides. you try to move away from him, but his legs were trapping you.

"stop!"

"tell me you love me."

"i love you." his hands froze when the words left your lips. you gasp for air as he smiles down at you.

"sarah means nothing to me. in fact, i can't stand her." jungwon told you. "jake told me to let her flirt with me to see if you would get jealous, so i did. hated every second of it. then to top it off, when i looked at you, jake was kissing you."

"he asked me if i wanted to make you jealous." you tell him. "that's why he asked me to trust him. i really didn't think he would kiss me."

"idiot." jungwon grumbled. you laugh at his pout, reaching up and kissing his pouting lips. he responded instantly, slightly groaning against your lips.

jungwon's hands traveled down your sides before slipping under your shirt. you sigh into the kiss as his hands explore your stomach before traveling to your chest. he squeezes your chest causing a moan to slip past your lips. you lift your hips, brushing your core against his already hard erection.

"you're not too sore, are you?" jungwon asked as he pulled away.

"no." you answered with a shake of your head. "please. i need you."

"fuck kitten." he groans before kissing you. his hands play with your nipples until you're moaning into his mouth. his lips leave yours before pulling up your shirt and attaching his lips to your breasts.

"wonnie." you moan at the contact.

his hand squeezes your other breast while his other travels to your underwear. he runs his finger along the top of your underwear, smirking when you moan at the contact. "you're already soaked, kitten."

"please wonnie."

he pushes your underwear to the side, playing with your clit with his thumb while his index finger teases your entrance. you moan at the stretch when his finger pushes inside of you. he takes his time, allowing you to adjust before adding a second finger. you arch your chest into his mouth when he curls his fingers.

he speeds up, loving the moans that are coming out of your mouth for him. he looks up, seeing your eyes sealed shut as you lose yourself to the pleasure. he lifts away from your breast before moving back up your body. his lips press against yours, swallowing all of your sounds.

"god, you sound so pretty, kitten. i love how responsive you are for me." he praises. you squeeze around his fingers at the compliment. "does my girl like being praised?"

"wonnie." you whine. "i- i'm close."

"i know, sweet girl." he curls his fingers again and again until you saw stars. you gripped onto his bare shoulder as he brought you to your climax. he kissed all over your face as you recovered. "you look so beautiful when you cum, kitten."

you blush, shyly pushing him away. he laughs at your embarrassment of his words. he eases his fingers out of you causing you to moan at the loss. you watch him as he moves his hand to his mouth, sucking on his fingers that were just inside of you. he groans at the taste of you before pulling his fingers out of his mouth and replacing it with yours.

you kiss him back while your hands slip into his sweats. he jerks into your hand, moaning into your mouth when your hand wraps around him. you stroke him gently, feeling him relax at the feeling. soon, he pulls your hand away before stripping you out of your underwear. he slips his sweats down enough to get his dick out before looking at you.

"are you sure you're not too sore?"

you shake your head. "i'm not. please fuck me."

he wraps his hand around his dick, running it through your folds and getting a moan out of you before he slid the tip in. unlike last night, he doesn't push fully in. he moves inch by inch, making sure you're okay before he continues. he groans, pressing his forehead to yours once he's flush against your hips.

"you feel so good kitten." he kisses you.

"fuck, wonnie." you beg, shifting your hips. "please move."

he does as you ask, thrusting slowly at first before he speeds up. you claw down his back as he speeds up even more. "fuck, w-wonnie. i love you."

"i love you kitten. so much." he responds, loosing himself in pleasure like you were. he moved your thighs to wrap around him, allowing him to go in deeper. you moan at the feeling of him. "i can feel you squeezing around me kitten. are you close?"

you nod your head. "y-yes. i'm close."

at your answer, he speeds up, chasing his high with you. his hand starts rubbing your clit, and you cry out as he brings you to your climax. he lets out a curse before spilling into you right after. he all but collapses on top of you as you both try to catch your breath.

once he recovers, he kisses you while praising you. "you always do so good for me kitten. i'm never going to get tired of you."

"you promise?"

"i promise." you kiss him again at his promise. he kisses you back before slipping out of you. you groan into his mouth as he pulls away. "i'll be right back."

he gets off of you, fixing his sweats before disappearing into the bathroom. after a minute, he returns with a warm rag, cleaning you up before tucking you back in bed. he slides in beside you. you lift up your arm when he cuddles into you, resting his head on your chest as his legs tangle with yours. you stroke his hair. he relaxes into you, as you do him, but there was something missing.

"do the thing." you speak up.

"yn-" jungwon groans, but you stop him.

"if you love me, you'll do it." you hear jungwon let out a sigh of defeat. you smile when you hear the soft purring coming from him. you kiss his head. "i love you wonnie."

-`✦´-

the apartment never really becomes hers. not properly. and definitely not in the way homes are supposed to.

it was more like a pit stop. a charging station. a place to sleep and leave again.

the movers had just set the boxes down and she thanks them too fast, already half-turned towards the door before they even finish asking where the last one should go.

“just anywhere is fine.”

anywhere is always fine.

she doesn’t have time to care.

the tape over her boxes are still uncut when she leaves for her lecture. not even the essentials unpacked. toothbrush still sealed in plastic. bedsheets still folded stiff. mugs still wrapped in newspaper.

she tells herself she’ll do it tonight.

she doesn’t.

she never does.

the boxes just… exist.

stacked against the walls like temporary thoughts.

like she’s not staying long enough to deserve drawers.

-`✦´-

y/n’s life runs on quiet calculations.

not written.

not planned on paper.

just automatic.

if the bus comes now, she saves a few minutes. if she skips the line, she saves a few minutes. if she walks faster, eats faster, showers faster-

she can squeeze something else in.

another chapter. another practice paper. another hour at the hospital.

productivity feels like oxygen.

if she slows down, she swears something bad will happen.

like everything will collapse.

like she will.

-`✦´-

y/n barely notices the hallway. barely notices the other doors. barely notices anything that isn’t directly useful.

so she doesn’t notice him either.

not at first.

not the boy down the hall who’s been living there for years.

not the way his shoes are always neatly lined up outside.

not the faint music he plays that sometimes hums through the walls.

not the light.

always on.

every night.

that thin strip of yellow slipping out from under his door like it’s breathing.

-`✦´-

jake notices her on day one.

it’s hard not to.

she moves like she’s late to something even when she isn’t.

her hair is tied too tight, phone in one hand, bag slipping off her shoulder, apologising to the movers while rushing them at the same time.

he watches from his doorway while pretending to take out the trash.

she doesn’t look up once.

not at the hallway. not at him. not at anything.

just straight ahead.

like the world is an obstacle course.

he thinks, quietly-

she looks tired.

-`✦´-

jake has always been good at noticing small things.

the way the lift stutters between floors.

the crack in the wall shaped like lightning.

the neighbour who cooks garlic at exactly 7pm.

the days the sky turns purple before it rains.

he notices how her lights turn off past midnight and turn on again before sunrise.

sometimes he hears her door open and close three, four times a day.

in. out. in. out.

like the apartment can’t hold her.

-`✦´-

his light stays on.

always.

even when he sleeps.

even when the room is empty.

a warm lamp in the corner that never switches off.

his aunt used to scold him for it when he was younger.

“electricity bill, jake.”

but nights feel wrong when they’re dark.

too quiet.

too heavy.

the accident happened at night.

headlights, rain, and a call that came too late.

sometimes darkness feels like something waiting to take things away.

so the light stays.

because if it’s bright, it isn’t night. and if it isn’t night, nothing bad can happen.

it’s childish logic but he keeps it anyway.

-`✦´-

the first week passes.

then another.

the boxes in y/n’s apartment don’t move.

not really.

she cuts one open once, pulls out a plate, then leaves the rest spilling out like guts. her clothes stay half-folded. her books stay stacked. nothing settles.

it looks less like home and more like storage.

like she’s ready to leave at any second.

-`✦´-

the day it happened was already bad before it even began.

everything was off.

the bus was late. her phone battery drained too fast. someone spilled coffee on her notes. she forgets to eat until her hands shake. her supervisor sends three emails in a row with “urgent” in the subject line.

and her parents call during lunch.

she doesn’t pick up.

they text.

call again.

she flips the phone face-down.

later. she’ll deal with it later.

always later.

by the time she gets home, it’s past midnight.

her head throbs. her feet ache. she just wants to shower and sleep for six hours before doing it all over again.

she digs into her bag for her keys.

doesn’t find them.

checks every pocket.

nothing.

empties her entire bag onto the floor outside her door.

pens. chargers. receipts. highlighters.

no keys.

she stands very still. thinking. replaying the day.

locker? lab bench? cafeteria table?

her chest tightens.

locksmith means waiting.

waiting means time wasted.

time wasted means tomorrow gets ruined.

and her phone-

3%.

“seriously…” she mutters.

of course.

of course this happens today.

-`✦´-

the hallway is silent.

everyone asleep. everything dark.

y/n presses her forehead against her door, her eyes closed.

thinking. thinking. thinking.

then-

light.

a thin line across the floor.

warm.

yellow.

steady.

it was coming from the unit down the hall.

like it’s still awake.

like someone’s still awake.

y/n stares at it longer than she means to.

she’s never noticed it before. has it always been there?

it feels strangely soft compared to the harsh white lights at the hospital, compared to her phone screen.

this one feels warm.

like late afternoons.

like safety.

she tells herself it’s practical. just practical. she’s not usually the type to bother strangers.

but it’s late.

and her phone is dying.

and she’s so, so tired.

so she walks down the hallway. each step slower than the last. like her body forgot how to rush.

she knocks.

quietly at first.

then louder. panic creeping in.

“hello?”

nothing.

she almost gives up.

then she hears shuffling inside.

slow footsteps. a lock clicking. the door opening just a crack.

messy hair. sleep-heavy eyes. oversized t-shirt. confused but soft.

“…yeah?”

his voice was rough with sleep.

like he was actually asleep. not awake like she assumed.

she blinks.

oh.

she feels bad immediately.

“sorry- i- um-”

why were words so hard suddenly?

“i locked myself out. my phone’s dying. i just- can i maybe borrow a charger or call someone? sorry. it’s really late. sorry.”

she keeps apologising.

he notices that too.

people who apologise a lot usually feel like they’re taking up space, like they’re not allowed to exist loudly.

he opens the door wider without thinking.

“it’s okay,” he says softly. “come in.”

-`✦´-

his place smells like laundry detergent and something warm. maybe tea.

it’s quiet. but not empty quiet. more like comfortable quiet. like the air isn’t rushing anywhere.

there’s a lamp glowing in the corner.

that same yellow light.

the only light on.

soft enough that nothing feels sharp.

his couch has a blanket thrown over it. there’s a mug on the table. and a book placed face-down like he’ll come back to it later.

everything looks lived in.

not staged.

not temporary.

not halfway.

home.

the word hits y/n weirdly hard.

she stands there with her bag still clutched to her chest, unsure of what to do with herself. like she stepped into the wrong place. like she’s too loud for this room.

“charger’s there,” he says, pointing. “you can sit.”

y/n nods, sitting on the very edge of the couch. back straight like she’s in an office, like she might need to leave any second.

he notices that too.

and for some reason it makes his chest ache a little.

like she’s never learned how to rest.

-`✦´-

outside, the hallway is dark.

inside, the lamp hums softly.

warm.

steady.

safe.

for the first time since moving in, y/n isn’t rushing.

not because she planned not to. not because she allowed herself to. but because somehow, in this small yellow-lit room, time just slows, like it’s waiting for her.

for a while, neither of them talks.

her phone is plugged in on the table. 3% becomes 4. 4 becomes 5. y/n stares at the numbers like it personally offended her. like if she watches hard enough it’ll charge faster.

she keeps checking the time too.

out of habit.

always calculating.

if she sleeps now, maybe she will get five hours. if the locksmith comes early, maybe she will still make it for her morning lecture. if she skips breakfast-

“you want tea?”

she looks up.

“…what?”

he’s already halfway to the kitchen.

“tea. or water. or something. you look like you’re gonna pass out.”

oh.

she didn’t realise it showed.

“water’s fine,” she says quickly. “don’t trouble yourself-”

“it’s just water,” he says, almost amused.

like the idea of water being trouble is ridiculous.

she shuts up. nods. and watches him disappear into the kitchen.

-`✦´-

y/n listens to the sounds.

cupboard opening. kettle filling. ceramic clinking.

normal sounds. boring sounds. quiet sounds.

she can’t remember the last time she heard sounds like this without background noise.

no train announcements. no hospital monitors. no lecture halls. no parents talking about grades or expectations or plans. just water.

and someone moving around slowly. not rushing. not trying to beat a clock.

it feels unreal.

like stepping into someone else’s life.

his place is small.

same layout as hers, probably.

but it feels bigger.

warmer.

alive.

there’s a plant on the windowsill, slightly crooked. a hoodie draped over a chair. photos stuck on the fridge with magnets.

it’s messy in a comfortable way. not “i haven’t unpacked” messy. more like “i live here” messy.

she swallows.

her place still looks like a delivery warehouse.

he comes back with a glass.

and a mug. steam curling up.

y/n frowns.

“i said water.”

“yeah,” he says, handing it to her. “and tea.”

“…why?”

he shrugs.

“water’s boring.”

like that’s a valid explanation. like it makes perfect sense.

she almost laughs. almost. it feels foreign, the instinct. like her body forgot how. she takes the mug anyway. it’s warm against her palms. too warm at first. then nice. the heat seeps into her fingers slowly. like it’s melting something frozen. she didn’t realise how cold she was until now.

“thanks,” she mutters.

he nods, sitting on the floor instead of the couch, back leaning against it casually. like this is his usual spot and he’s done this a hundred times.

she sits stiff and straight. he slouches like gravity actually works on him. they look like two completely different species.

“so,” he says after a while. “bad day?”

she snorts before she can stop herself.

“when is it not?”

it comes out too honest. too fast. she regrets it immediately but he just hums. like that answer makes sense. like he’s not judging. not asking for justification. just accepting.

that weirdly makes it worse.

because now her throat feels tight.

-`✦´-

y/n’s phone buzzes.

once.

twice.

three times in a row.

she glances down.

missed calls.

mum.

mum.

dad.

mum.

a message preview:

call us back. why didn’t you answer earlier?

her stomach drops with guilt. always guilt.

she flips her phone face-down and pretends nothing happened.

he notices. of course he does. but he doesn’t ask. he just looks away politely. gives her the out. because he understands some things are heavy.

“you just moved in, right?” he asks instead.

she nods.

“yeah. closer to school. and the hospital.”

“med?”

“…yeah.”

“tough.”

“yeah.”

short answers. efficient. like she’s conserving energy. like conversations are tasks to complete.

he studies her quietly. she looks like she hasn’t slept properly in months. dark circles. shoulders tight. fingers still twitching like she wants to check the time again. like she’s always bracing.

“your place still full of boxes?” he asks.

she blinks.

“…how do you know?”

he smiles a little.

“saw the movers. then never saw you bring trash down. so i figured nothing’s unpacked.”

she stares. embarrassed.

“i’ve just been busy.”

it sounds defensive. like an excuse she’s repeated too many times. busy busy busy. always busy.

but he just nods.

“makes sense.”

not sarcastic. not judgmental. just gentle.

and somehow that gentleness hurts more.

because she doesn’t know what to do with it.

-`✦´-

another quiet stretch.

the lamp hums. its soft yellow light washing over everything. no harsh shadows. no fluorescent headache.

y/n keeps glancing at it.

it’s weirdly comforting.

“you always keep that on?” she asks before she can stop herself.

he follows her gaze.

“yeah.”

“even when you sleep?”

“yeah.”

“…why?”

he pauses.

shrugs.

“don’t like the dark much.”

simple.

but something in his voice tightens.

just a little bit.

like there’s more there.

y/n recognises that tone. its the tone people use when they want cut a story short. when they don’t want to dig deeper.

she nods. doesn’t push. she has her own stories she never finishes too.

she realises something then.

his place feels like evening.

not night. not day. just late afternoon.

the safe time.

the time when nothing bad usually happens.

she hasn’t felt a time like that in years.

her days are either too bright or too dark. never soft. never slow. without meaning to, her shoulders drop. just a little, like her body finally unclenched.

he notices that too.

he notices everything.

“you can stay till your phone charges more,” he says.

“no rush.”

no rush.

the words hit weird.

she can’t remember the last time someone said that to her.

everything in her life is a rush.

hurry.

faster.

don’t waste time.

don’t fall behind.

don’t disappoint.

no rush feels illegal.

like she broke a rule just by sitting here.

but she doesn’t stand up. doesn’t check the time. doesn’t calculate.

for once.

she just sits.

holding a warm mug.

in a room lit like sunset.

with a boy she met fifteen minutes ago.

and somehow-

it feels quieter in her head than it has in years.

down the hall, her apartment waits. boxes sealed. lights off. cold. temporary. like a place she’s borrowing.

while in here, there’s a lamp that never turns off. a couch with a dent in it. a tea that tastes too sweet. and a someone who says things like “no rush”. like he actually means it.

-`✦´-

y/n doesn’t realise she’s drifting off until her head jerks forward.

the mug tilts. she catches it just in time.

“…sorry,” she mutters automatically, even though nothing happened. like she’s apologising for existing. for taking up space. for being tired.

he looks up from where he was scrolling lazily on his phone.

“you can sleep, you know.”

she straightens immediately.

“no. i’m fine.”

too fast.

too sharp.

a reflex.

fine fine fine.

always fine.

he studies her for a second, then hums. doesn’t argue. just says, “okay,” like he doesn’t need to win. and that throws her off more than if he pushed.

the clock on his microwave says 2:43 am. y/n calculates without meaning to.

if she sleeps now and wakes at six, that’s three hours seventeen minutes. minus travel. minus-

stop.

she presses her fingers into her temple.

stop calculating.

just sit.

just breathe.

just-

she blinks, realising her eyes have been closed longer than she thought.

at some point, she slides down from the couch to sit on the floor too.

not on purpose.

she just ends up there.

back against the couch cushion.

closer to the lamp.

closer to the warmth.

her shoulder almost touching his sleeve.

not quite.

but almost.

close enough to feel heat.

he smells like clean laundry. something soft. nothing fancy. just home.

she doesn’t know why that word shows up in her head again.

home.

she hasn’t used that word seriously in years.

“you always up this late?” he asks quietly.

“mm.”

“studying?”

“lectures. hospital. studying. everything.”

she doesn’t elaborate. doesn’t need to. her life is just a list of tasks anyway.

he nods slowly.

“sounds tiring.”

she laughs under her breath.

“it’s supposed to be.”

“…supposed to be?”

“yeah. if it’s not tiring then you’re not doing enough.”

the words come out automatically.

memorised.

fed to her since she was small.

like multiplication tables.

like facts.

he goes quiet after that. long quiet. the kind that feels heavy. like he wants to say something but doesn’t.

-`✦´-

y/n wakes up to sunlight.

for a second she panics. heart racing. where is she.

then she sees the lamp. still on. soft yellow even in the morning. then the couch. then the plant.

then him. asleep. head tilted back against the couch, mouth slightly open, phone slipping from his hand. he’s still sitting on the floor beside her like he never moved. like he stayed.

her chest tightens for some reason.

did he not go to bed? because of her?

she checks the time.

7:12 am.

shit.

“i- i have to go,” she blurts.

he startles awake, blinking at her, disoriented.

“…morning already?”

“yeah. locksmith. and lecture. i- sorry-”

why is she apologising again? for leaving his house?

he rubs his eyes, hair messy, voice rough with sleep.

“wait.”

he stands and disappears into the kitchen.

she hovers awkwardly near the door. guilt gnawing at her. she stayed too long. took up too much space. imposed. she should’ve left earlier. should’ve-

he comes back with something wrapped in tissue and presses it into her hand.

“eat on the way.”

“…what?”

“bread. just toast. didn’t look like you had dinner.”

she freezes. stares at it like it’s something fragile. no one’s packed her food since she was a kid. and even then it was calculated. protein. carbs. efficiency. this is just-

toast.

because she looked hungry. because he noticed. just because.

her throat tightens.

“you don’t have to-”

“i already made it,” he shrugs. “if you don’t want it, i’ll eat it.”

she clutches it closer immediately.

“…thanks.”

-`✦´-

the hallway outside is bright. too bright.

the world feels louder again, like someone turned the volume back up.

y/n suddenly misses the lamp.

ridiculous.

it’s just a lamp.

they walk the short distance to her unit together. it’s the first time they’re standing next to each other in daylight.

he looks different.

softer.

younger.

there’re sleep lines pressed into his cheek and he yawns mid-step like he forgot she was even there. like he’s comfortable. like he doesn’t have to perform.

she doesn’t understand how someone can exist like that.

without constantly trying to be sharper. better. faster.

-`✦´-

the locksmith comes ten minutes later.

the door clicks open and y/n steps inside.

there’re boxes stacked along the wall. half taped. half opened. clothes still folded inside luggage. it doesn’t feel like a home yet. just a place her things are stored.

she turns back. he’s still standing there. his hands in his pockets wearing that half-asleep smile.

“it’s jake, by the way.”

for a second she just blinks at him. like the sentence doesn’t fully land.

names.

right.

people usually exchange those.

normal people do that.

she opens her mouth, then closes it again.

when did they not?

they talked. he handed her water. waited with her. stayed the whole time like it was nothing. and somehow-

she never asked. never offered. she’d treated him like a temporary variable. a situation. not a person.

the realisation sits heavy in her chest.

she’s so used to moving fast she forgets people have names. everything gets labelled by function instead. landlord. security. class rep. barista. delivery guy.

roles, not names.

because names mean staying.

names mean remembering.

she swallows.

“…right.”

her voice comes out softer than she expects.

“i-”

why was this suddenly so hard?

she’s introduced herself thousands of times. automatic and efficiently.

but now it feels personal. like he’ll actually keep it.

“…i’m y/n.”

jake nods once. small and gentle.

“yeah,” he says, almost amused.

“figured.”

she frowns. “how?”

“you just look like a y/n.”

“…that’s not a thing.”

he shrugs. “felt like one.”

it makes her chest tighten anyway.

he didn’t just file her away.

he actually noticed.

of course he did.

he’s the kind of person who notices things. her coming home late. her leaving home early. even the way she runs instead of walks. meanwhile she’d only just learned his name. heat creeps up her neck.

“…sorry,” she blurts.

he tilts his head. “for what?”

“i didn’t even- names. earlier. i didn’t think about it.”

like you weren’t important enough to register.

she doesn’t say that part out loud but she feels it anyway.

he just smiles.

“yeah,” he says lightly. “i noticed.”

she winces. but he continues before she can spiral.

“you looked like your brain was running at, like, 200%.”

“…it wasn’t that bad.”

he raises an eyebrow.

“…maybe 180.”

he laughs softly. not teasing. just-

fond.

“it’s okay,” he says. “you had a long night.”

no judgement. no scorekeeping. just facts.

something in her chest loosens.

they’re just standing there. talking. doing nothing. but for once-

she doesn’t feel like she’s losing time because of it.

that scares her.

she shifts her grip on her keys.

“i should-”

“see you around?” he says.

not demanding. not expectant. just casual. like it’d be nice. like it’s optional. like she’s free to choose. she’s not used to being given choices.

“…yeah,” she says too quickly.

he lifts his hand in a small wave. not big. not dramatic. just there. like he’ll always be there.

the light from his doorway spills softly across the floor.

steady.

warm.

she watches for a beat too long.

then closes the door.

-`✦´-

the latch clicks shut and silence settles. y/n looks down at the toast still in her hand. still warm.

her chest tightens in a way she can’t explain. she eats it standing between unopened boxes.

plain. slightly burnt. too much butter. perfect. it tastes like something she didn’t know she was missing. something slow. something gentle. something that doesn’t ask for anything back.

later, when she rushes out for class, she notices it.

for the first time.

really notices.

down the hall.

under his door.

even in the morning.

that thin strip of yellow light.

still there.

like it never went out.

like it’s waiting.

like it’s saying — someone’s home.

and she hates how comforting that feels.

-`✦´-

days pass and y/n’s schedule swallows her whole. hospital. campus. commute. repeat. she comes home late more often than not, shoulders tight, brain buzzing, feet aching. sometimes she notices the light. sometimes she doesn’t. sometimes she’s too far gone to register anything at all.

but jake notices.

he notices the way her footsteps slow near his door. the way she pauses. then the way she keeps going.

one night, he hears her keys drop. the sound is sharp. panicked.

he’s already standing by the door before he realises it.

“you okay?” he asks through the wood.

there’s a pause.

“…yeah.”

it doesn’t sound convincing.

he waits.

then opens his door slowly. she’s crouched on the floor, backpack slung off one shoulder, keys clutched in her hand like she’s afraid they’ll disappear.

“rough day?” he asks, softer this time.

she nods once. doesn’t elaborate. he doesn’t ask her to.

they stand there for a moment, hallway light buzzing above them, silence stretching — but not uncomfortable. not empty.

“i made soup,” jake says eventually. “too much. if you want.”

y/n hesitates.

of course she does.

of course she wants to say no.

of course she wants to say that she’s fine, that she’ll eat later, and that she has things to do.

but her stomach betrays her with a quiet, humiliating sound.

jake smiles, small and knowing, like he already expected that.

“no pressure,” he says. “just… offering.”

she exhales.

“…okay.”

-`✦´-

his place feels the same.

lamp on. curtains drawn. warm in a way that doesn’t ask questions.

she sits on the couch this time instead of the floor and he hands her a bowl and a spoon and then — importantly — goes to sit on the armchair instead of hovering.

space.

choice.

y/n eats slowly. doesn’t rush or check her phone.

it feels wrong. indulgent. like she’s stealing time she hasn’t earned.

“you don’t have to stay long,” he says, like he can hear her thoughts. “i’m not gonna hold you hostage.”

she huffs a quiet laugh before she can stop herself.

“…good.”

they sit there in companionable silence. no pressure to talk. no pressure to perform. just existing in the same room. she realises — dimly and unsettlingly — that this is the longest she’s sat still all day. maybe even all week.

when she finishes, she places the bowl down carefully.

“thank you,” she says.

again. he nods.

“anytime.”

and he means it. she can tell.

-`✦´-

later, back in her apartment, y/n stands amongst the boxes again. but it doesn’t feel as cold as before. still quiet. still empty. but less hollow.

she unpacks one box.

just one.

it takes her longer than it should because she keeps stopping, zoning out, staring at nothing.

when she finally lies down, she leaves her bedside lamp on. the light is too bright. she turns it down halfway. not dark, just dim. enough to see. enough to remind herself that she’s not alone, even when she is.

down the hall, under jake’s door, the light stays steady.

and for the first time since she moved in, she lets herself believe that maybe this place won’t always feel like somewhere she’s just passing through.

-`✦´-

y/n doesn’t mean to start timing him.

it just happens.

not consciously. not like the way she times everything else.

this isn’t written down. isn’t scheduled. isn’t efficient. it just slips into her brain without permission.

the light under his door usually turns brighter around 6:40 am which probably means he’s awake. she notices because that’s around the time she’s tying her shoelaces.

one morning, she opens her door at the exact same time he opens his.

she startles like she got caught doing something wrong.

jake just blinks at her, hair messy, hoodie half-zipped, like he rolled out of bed thirty seconds ago.

“…morning,” he mumbles.

she nods awkwardly. “morning.”

they stand there for half a second too long.

“you heading out?” he asks.

“yeah.”

“same.”

he steps into the hallway beside her like it’s the most natural thing in the world. like they do this every day.

they don’t.

they’ve maybe spoken five times total. so why does this feel… normal?

the lift ride down is quiet. she stares at the floor numbers. he leans against the wall, yawning into his sleeve. he smells faintly like detergent and something warm. soap maybe. it’s weirdly comforting.

“you always leave this early?” he asks.

“earlier sometimes.”

“…why?”

she blinks. no one’s ever asked that like it’s optional.

“classes. hospital. stuff,” she says.

he nods slowly. not judging. just absorbing. like information about her matters.

“sounds tiring,” he says.

she shrugs. “it’s fine.”

it’s automatic.

fine means manageable. fine means not collapsing. fine means acceptable.

he doesn’t say anything to that. just hums quietly like he doesn’t quite believe her.

the lift dings as the doors open and cold morning air rushes in. they step out together then-

split.

different directions.

“see you later,” he says, casually, like it’s obvious there’ll be a later.

“…yeah,” she replies, and for some reason, she doesn’t hate that word anymore.

-`✦´-

y/n starts noticing other things too.

like how he waters the little plant by his door every evening. at the same time. with the same chipped mug.

like how he sits on the floor sometimes with his back against the wall, scrolling through his phone, door cracked open just enough for light to spill out.

like how he always says hi. always. even if she looks half-dead. even if she’s clearly in a rush. never demanding a conversation. just “hey.” soft and steady. like a bookmark. like proof that she exists.

it’s unsettling.

how someone can acknowledge her without wanting something.

-`✦´-

one night, y/n gets home later than usual. past midnight.

she’s tired — the kind of tired that makes everything feel fuzzy. she almost walks into the wrong unit, keys slipping twice before she finally manages to unlock the door. she’s halfway inside when-

“y/n?”

she turns.

jake’s door is open, light warm and low behind him. he looks sleepy. worried. like he’s been up.

“you okay?” he asks.

again.

always that question.

she nods too fast, “yeah. just late.”

he studies her for a second, eyes dragging over her face like he’s checking for damage.

“…you ate?”

she pauses.

she had coffee. half a granola bar. that counts.

“…yeah,” she lies.

he squints slightly, not buying it, then disappears into his kitchen.

she stands there, confused.

two seconds later he comes back with a banana. just a banana. he holds it out like it’s obvious.

“emergency food,” he says. “take it.”

“…jake-”

“no speeches. just take it.”

she takes it. because arguing would take more energy than accepting.

“…thanks.”

“now go to sleep,” he says gently. “you look like you’re about to fall over.”

it should annoy her.

the way he says things like that. like he gets to care. like he’s allowed to care. but instead her chest feels tight again. that same stupid, unfamiliar ache. like something warm pressing against a place that’s been cold too long.

-`✦´-

inside her apartment, y/n sits on the floor with her back against a stack of boxes, eating the banana slowly, staring at nothing.

why does he keep doing that?

feeding her. waiting for her. staying awake.

people don’t just do things for no reason.

there’s always a trade-off.

always an expectation.

grades. results. productivity. repayment.

so what does he want?

she tries to calculate it.

can’t.

there’s no logic. no benefit. he just notices and responds. like it’s the simplest thing in the world. like taking care of someone isn’t a transaction.

her throat tightens.

she hates that she doesn’t know how to handle that.

the next morning, she opens her door.

the hallway is quiet, but the light under his door is still there. steady. unchanging.

and for the first time, instead of walking past immediately, she stops. just for a second. stares at that thin strip of yellow. then very lightly, she knocks. once. soft. like she might run away after.

there’s shuffling inside. a thud.

“…huh-?”

the door opens and jake blinks at her, hair everywhere, eyes barely open.

“y/n…?”

she holds something out awkwardly.

a small carton of milk from the convenience store downstairs.

she bought it without thinking. without planning. without calculating.

“for… the soup. and the banana. the other day,” she mutters.

his brain takes a second to load. then he smiles. slow, sleepy and soft. like a sunrise.

“you didn’t have to,” jake says.

she shrugs. “i know.”

they stand there. not moving. not rushing. just existing. and it scares her a little — how easy it’s starting to feel, to stay.

-`✦´-

the toast becomes a problem.

not because of the taste but because of what it means.

y/n doesn’t realise it at first. she just eats it on the way to the bus stop, walking too fast like always, crumbs falling onto her sleeve. but halfway through, she slows down. just a little. because if she finishes too quickly, it’ll be gone. which is stupid. it’s just toast. she could buy ten more.

but none of them would be wrapped in tissue like that. none of them would be slightly uneven like someone made it half-asleep. none of them would exist just because someone looked at her and thought, she probably didn’t eat.

she hates how much that thought lingers all day.

lectures blur. hospital smells like antiseptic and overbrewed coffee. someone hands her forms. someone asks her to run bloods. someone calls her name twice because she didn’t hear the first time.

she moves like she always does.

fast.

efficient.

sharp.

but there’s something off. her brain keeps buffering like a tab is open somewhere in the background. a tab of yellow light. hands in pockets. it’s jake, by the way.

she almost trips over nothing, annoyed at herself.

focus.

-`✦´-

she gets home late again. not as late as last night but still late.

the hallway is quiet, fluorescent lights humming overhead.

she walks automatically, keys already in hand. then she sees it. that thin strip of yellow under his door. still on. glowing steadily.

it shouldn’t mean anything. people leave lights on all the time. electricity exists. this is normal. so why does it feel like-

relief? like something unclenches in her chest before she even processes it?

it’s annoying. irrational.

she walks faster. unlocks her door. goes inside. doesn’t look again.

-`✦´-

y/n lasts twenty minutes. twenty.

she tells herself she’s just taking out the trash. very normal. very practical. definitely not looking.

she opens her door and steps into the hallway, trying to be casual about it, like she just happens to glance down the corridor.

light.

still there.

warm.

stupid.

so why is it comforting?

she throws the trash away too aggressively.

then comes back too slowly.

-`✦´-

the next few days become…

weird.

not big things.

small things. stupid things. things she pretends not to notice. like-

sometimes there’s a convenience store bag hanging on her door handle. banana milk, bread, a protein bar. no note, no message. just there.

the first time she assumes it’s the wrong unit. the second time she suspects coincidence. the third time-

she stares at it for a full thirty seconds, then looks down the hall.

his door is closed. light still on.

she hates that she knows that without thinking.

she knocks, before she can overthink it.

it takes a second. shuffling inside. door opening just a crack. messy hair. sleepy eyes. like he woke up mid-nap.

“…hey,” jake says.

like he expected her. like it’s normal. like she’s not standing there holding banana milk like it’s a piece of forensic evidence.

“did you-” y/n lifts the bag.

he blinks.

“…oh. yeah.”

no denial or pretending. just yeah. like it’s obvious.

“why?” she asks, too sharp, defensive. she doesn’t mean it to sound like that.

he doesn’t seem offended though, shrugging.

“you leave early.”

“…so?”

“convenience store’s on my way back from practice.”

“…and?”

another shrug.

“figured you forget to eat.”

she opens her mouth and closes it, because she does. she does forget. a lot. but how does he-

“it’s not a big deal,” jake adds quickly, like he thinks she’s going to refuse. “just extras.”

extras.

like she’s not trouble. not effort. just included.

something in her chest twists again.

annoying. dangerous. this is exactly how attachments form. this is inefficient. this is-

“…thanks,” y/n mutters, quieter than intended.

he smiles. small. sleepy.

god.

why is he always half-awake.

does this man ever fully exist.

-`✦´-

y/n was unlocking her door again when jake opens his at the same time. like a coincidence. like the universe is laughing.

they both pause. awkward. too close. too quiet.

he scratches the back of his neck.

“long day?”

she nods.

“you?”

“mm. yeah.”

silence.

normal people would leave, say bye, go inside. instead they just… stand there, like neither of them knows how to end it, like leaving feels weirdly abrupt.

she hates that.

time is passing. she should go. she should-

“did you eat?” jake asks suddenly.

she freezes.

“…yeah.”

lie.

he squints at her. not accusing, just reading.

she looks away first.

“…i’ll eat,” she corrects.

he nods once, satisfied. like that’s enough, like he trusts her. which is worse somehow because why does he trust her, he barely knows her.

she barely knows him.

she only learned his name a few weeks ago. and yet standing here feels easier than talking to people she’s known for years.

that scares her because later, when she’s brushing her teeth, she realises something: without meaning to, she timed her walk home slower today. not consciously or planned. but slower like she wasn’t rushing to leave, like she didn’t mind the hallway, like she didn’t mind the light waiting at the end of it. and that thought terrifies her more than anything.

because slowing down was never part of the plan.

-`✦´-

it happens by accident.

y/n doesn’t even realise she’s doing it until she’s already halfway down the hall.

her laptop’s at 6%. her charger’s dead. she forgot to buy a new one. and she has a quiz tomorrow morning.

of course she does.

of course.

she stands outside her own door calculating.

the library closes in forty minutes but the bus ride there and back is thirty. waste of time. inefficient. she could hotspot her phone-

no. battery’s dying too.

she stares at the floor. then her eyes drift. down the hallway. to thin strip of yellow. steady. on. always on.

she tells herself this is logical, purely practical. he probably has a charger. that’s it. nothing else. just borrowing. normal neighbour behaviour.

she knocks before she can talk herself out of it, immediately regretting it.

too late.

there’s shuffling inside and the door opens. jake looks like he just woke up again. but does he ever not look like that.

his hair is flattened on one side and his hoodie sleeves cover half his hands.

“…hey,” he says, voice rough.

like he wasn’t expecting anyone but isn’t surprised it’s her.

“sorry- do you have a laptop charger?”

straight to the point.

he blinks once. then opens the door wider without a word.

“yeah. come in.”

not i’ll pass it to you. not wait here.

come in. like it’s obvious. like she’s allowed.

something about that makes her hesitate for half a second. but still, she steps inside. her shoulders drop before she realises. why does his house always make her less tense.

jake digs through a drawer and hands her the charger.

logically, she should leave.

grab it. say thanks. go.

but instead she hears herself say, “can i just… sit here and finish my work? i’ll be quiet.”

why did she ask that.

she has a perfectly good table at home.

a chair.

walls.

she doesn’t need this.

but jake shrugs like it’s the most normal request ever.

“yeah. do whatever.”

whatever.

like she’s not intruding. like her being here doesn’t change anything. like she’s just part of the room.

-`✦´-

y/n sits at jake’s small dining table, opens her laptop and starts typing.

at first she’s hyper aware of everything.

the sound of him moving. the fridge humming. the water running. every tiny noise feels too loud. like she’s invading and shouldn’t be here.

but he doesn’t act weird, doesn’t hover, doesn’t talk. he just exists, leaning against the counter scrolling his phone.

minutes pass.

then more.

and more.

and something strange happens.

she forgets he’s there.

not in a bad way.

just like the way you forget furniture is there. steady. constant. safe.

she types. highlights. reads. calculates.

normally studying feels like drowning. today it feels lighter — the air isn’t pressing down on her chest and her brain isn’t screaming at her to go faster. she finishes a whole chapter without checking the time once. that’s never happened before.

“tea?”

y/n looks up.

jake’s holding two mugs. she didn’t even hear him boil the water.

“…i didn’t ask for-”

“i made extra,” he says.

same tone as always.

extras.

like she’s never the reason. just coincidence. just happens.

she takes it. warm. ginger. not sweet. exactly how she likes it.

she frowns.

“…how did you know i don’t like sugar?”

he shrugs.

“you drink black coffee.”

oh.

right.

she does.

but she never told him that.

he just noticed.

again.

she stares at the mug longer than necessary.

then quietly, “…thanks.”

-`✦´-

somewhere between page six and seven, y/n’s eyes start burning.

she rubs them and keeps reading. but words start to blur so she tells herself she’ll just rest for thirty seconds. just close her eyes. just-

she wakes up to warmth. soft. heavy. something tucked around her shoulders. for a second she panics. then realises. blanket. his blanket. she’s still at the table. laptop asleep. screen black. lamp still on. always on.

she turns her head.

he’s on the couch, controller in hand, game paused, watching her. not in a creepy way. just checking. like making sure she’s breathing.

“…sorry,” y/n mumbles automatically, sitting up.

god. she fell asleep. again. in his house. again.

what is wrong with her.

“for what?” he asks.

same question as always. genuine confusion.

“i- i didn’t mean to-”

“you looked tired.”

like that explains everything and that’s enough reason to let someone stay.

her chest does that tight thing again.

she packs her stuff quickly and stands at the door, hands hovering.

not sure why leaving feels weird. it shouldn’t. this is normal. they’re just neighbours. nothing else.

“thanks. for the charger. and… everything.”

jake nods. sleepy smile.

“anytime.”

anytime.

like he means it. like it’s not polite talk. like if she knocked at 3am he’d still open the door.

that thought settles somewhere deep in her ribs.

heavy, warm but terrifying.

-`✦´-

it’s stupid.

that’s the only word for it.

stupid.

y/n stands in front of her sink staring at the instant noodles she just made and already doesn’t want.

too salty.

too fast.

too lonely.

steam fogs her glasses while her brain starts doing that thing again. eat in four minutes. shower in seven. revise two chapters. sleep by 12:43. wake up at 6:10.

optimise. optimise. optimise.

she hates that word. but it’s always there. buzzing.

she takes one bite. grimaces. sets the bowl down. and doesn’t touch it again.

the apartment feels too quiet tonight.

not peaceful quiet.

the bad kind.

the kind that rings in your ears.

her boxes are still stacked near the wall. she hasn’t unpacked more than half of her life. she keeps telling herself she’ll do it when things “settle down.” but things never settle down.

she knows that.

she just doesn’t want to admit it.

she rubs her temples and stares at her laptop. the words blur together. nothing sticks. she reads the same paragraph three times. nothing. nothing but brain static.

burnout.

she hates that.

burnout is for people who aren’t trying hard enough.

that’s what her parents always said.

she exhales. stands up. paces once across the room. then twice. then before she can overthink-

she grabs her keys, opens the door and steps into the hallway.

she doesn’t even stop to pause.

because her body already decided.

like it knows something her brain doesn’t.

-`✦´-

jake’s light is on.

of course it is.

that thin strip of yellow under the door. always steady. always quiet. always waiting.

y/n’s feet slow. her heart starts doing something weird. why is she nervous. she’s just knocking. it’s normal. neighbours knock all the time. this is normal.

so she knocks. soft. once.

then thoughts start swarming her head.

what if he’s busy.

what if he’s sleeping.

what if this is weird.

what if he asks why she’s here and she has no answer because there is no reason other than the fact that she’s just lonely and tired and didn’t want to sit in that cold apartment anymore like a ghost-

the door opens. and jake blinks at her, surprised for half a second. then he softens. like seeing her makes sense. like she’s exactly who he expected.

“…hey.”

just that.

hey.

like she’s done this a hundred times.

like she belongs here already.

“hi,” she says.

too quiet. too awkward.

say something useful.

say something productive.

say something normal.

“…what’s up?” he asks. simple. open. no pressure. and suddenly-

she has nothing.

no charger. no question. no excuse.

her brain scrambles. buffering. error.

“…nothing,” she blurts.

great.

amazing.

what kind of answer is that.

she almost laughs from embarrassment.

“i just-”

god. this is humiliating.

“i didn’t feel like being home.”

silence. there. it’s out. too honest. way too honest.

she braces for the awkwardness. for him to look confused. for him to say oh okay maybe tomorrow. but instead, he just steps aside, opening his door wider.

“come in.”

like it’s obvious. like it doesn’t even require thought. like of course you can come in.

why wouldn’t you.

-`✦´-

his place smells like garlic. something sizzling. warm.

she steps inside and immediately feels that same weird drop in her shoulders. like her body unclenching without permission.

his lamp is on. the lights are dim. it feels soft. alive. homey.

she hates how much she likes it.

“i’m making fried rice,” jake says, scratching the back of his neck. “kinda messed up the first batch though.”

she peeks into the pan.

it looks fine. slightly uneven. a little burnt on one side. not aesthetic. not perfect. but it smells good. real.

“…it’s okay,” y/n says.

“yeah but it’s ugly,” he sighs.

she stares at him.

“…food doesn’t have to be pretty.”

he looks at her like that sentence means more than it should. like he heard something underneath it. then he smiles a little.

“help me taste?”

she freezes.

help. not watch. not sit. help.

no one has ever asked her to help with small things. they ask her to perform. achieve. fix. not-

taste fried rice.

“…okay.”

she stands beside him, shoulders almost brushing. too close. too warm.

he hands her a spoon. their fingers accidentally touch. just for half a second. electric.

she pretends not to notice.

he pretends too.

both terrible at pretending.

“needs salt?” he asks.

she tastes, then nods.

“a bit.”

he sprinkles and she tastes again, grimacing.

“too much?”

“…yeah.”

they both laugh. actually laugh. not polite. not forced.

the sound surprises her so much she almost stops. she can’t remember the last time she laughed in someone else’s kitchen. without checking the time. without thinking she should leave.

they end up eating straight from the pan. standing side by side. sharing one spoon. arguing quietly about whether the slightly burnt bits taste better.

it’s messy.

it’s inefficient.

it’s stupid.

y/n should be hating on this.

but instead she feels something she’s never had.

like being a kid at someone else’s house.

like being allowed to exist without earning it.

part 2.

but jake, sweet pure-hearted jake, he always answered with kindness, he always agreed to help, because how could he assume that they had an ulterior motive?

this was the 3rd time this week that he had to stay back because he wanted to help someone with their notes.

seriously, how could he not know this was the oldest trick in the book to hit on a hot nerd? and you'd done it before, but that doesn't mean they could, too. he was yours.

your whole mood was sour as you walked in your lecture with jungwon, pouting slightly as you sighed out of frustration.

"what is it this time?" jungwon asks knowingly. sometimes you wonder if he could read you too easily, or if you're really just that obvious.

you look at him, your pout deepening. and although you always tend to call jungwon your child, he seems to parent you alot more than you do. "wonnnnn, is this what I get for being a slut before settling down?" you whine, and he tried to hold in his laughter, keyword: tries.

"don't laugh!" you hit his shoulder, but he only shakes his head. "I'm not laughing. it's just.. it's fun to see you all riled up while jake doesn't even notice it."

"that's the problem! I can't even tell him. because what if I'm being this weird insecure girlfriend and he breaks up with me?"

"impossible, he's smitten with you." he added

"but we just started dating." you argue, still in distress about this. oh how you wished jake would just see how much you liked him.

sure, you had a reputation for your questionably short relationships. you get over people easily, you break up with your boyfriends using stupid excuses, because you can't just say the truth: you get bored.

not in the mean way, at least not how you view it, but it happens. It was easy to catch feelings, for you to get attracted, it was even easier to get someone to date you, who'd reject you? but then they'd mess up. you let it slide once, then twice, but more than that? you get bored. bored of their empty promises, bored of their ulterior motives that had nothing to do with your happiness and everything to do with their pleasure, bored of them, the idea of them, and everything that comes with it.

but with jake, it was different. sure it was an accidental kiss that started everything, but you always noticed him.

you noticed how he stumbled over his words when asked a question, you noticed how he toyed with the hem of his sleeve when nervous, you noticed how messy his hair looks after a long study session, just because he ran his fingers through it one too many times, you noticed everything that felt distinctively him.

and when fate pulled you two together, when you finally got to be with the one who made your heart race like no other, you were over the moon.

so now? seeing girls all over him when all you ever wanted was hold him close and leave an imprint that said he was yours? it made your blood boil.

you weren't angry at him, no, you knew he meant no harm, but you still couldn't tame this unexplainable jealousy.

who knew you were capable of such emotion? it's not like any of your past relationships has made you feel this way.

you were deep in thought when jungwon's voice pulled you out your bubble. "don't even think about it." he scolds, how'd he even know?

"won! how else am I supposed to get him to look at me?" you whine once again, jungwon only rolls his eyes.

"maybe without being a brat and trying to make the poor guy jealous."

"its just an idea!" you defend.

"a bad one."

you slump in your chair, out of ideas. annoying jungwon, always has to be the responsible one.

you focus in your lecture, trying to push any distracting thought out of the way.

as you were packing up, with students filling out after the end of the lecture, you felt something poke your cheek, or rather, someone.

you look up to see jake standing there, an endearing smile on his face at the sight of you.

"yunie!" you stand up, a smile automatically painted your face.

"hi, love" he says softly, and it makes you melt.

"why are you here?"

jake giggles, it almost makes you blush. "to pick you up, aren't we having a sleepover today?"

right. you were so occupied with your own jealousy that you forgot the plans you'd made together.

"right! right.. let's go then?" you say as you pack up your bag and wave goodbye to jungwon, who was still there.

jake just holds your hand, leading you out the lecture hall.

'this is fine, you're fine, there's no need to be jealous, no need to make a scene over your emotions.' you insisted.

you look down at your intertwined hands, was it really fine?

the rest of the day went well, really well. at least, that's what you kept telling yourself.

you were on edge. still unsure if it was okay for you to voice feelings like this, or if you should just suck it up and deal with it yourself.

it's hard when you've never been in a proper relationship before. were you always this timid?

it all broke down when you were watching a movie, some romcom with a classic ending, but the words came out before you can stop them.

"do you think jealousy could break up a relationship?" you asked carefully, looking for an answer in his eyes.

jake was surprised by the sudden question, and the seriousness of it, but he could see the doubt in your eyes, the part of you that wants to brush it off and deny everything.

"I think it could, but I don't think it should." he says carefully, his gaze burned your skin.

"if someone I care about is jealous, or if I'm the jealous one, I'd like hear their thoughts, and share mine. I'd want them to understand my feelings, and not brush them off as unimportant, or ridiculous." he answers, and it leaves you in a daze of questions.

you look down at your lap, unsure what to say now. you never knew how to deal with your own feelings.

his hands move to your cheek, cradling it softly as he tilts your head up so you could meet his gaze.

"what's wrong?" he asks gently, and it sends a tug through your chest, he was so gentle it hurts.

"y/n?" no response.

"baby?" still none.

so he leans in, and catches your lips in a searing kiss.

he was so overwhelmingly gentle, making sure you're responding before he deepens the kiss, pouring everything you wouldn't understand with words into the kiss.

when he pulls back, panting, you chase after his lips instinctively, making him giggle.

"as much as I'd love to, we can't kiss all night." he said while stroking your hair, and you let out a small whine, barely a protest.

"why not? if two people like each other, they can kiss as much as they want."

"they can.. but what if these two people aren't being honest with each other?"

you frown "what do you mean?"

"is there something you're not telling me, y/n?" he prompts.

"maybe.." you start, unsure if you can lie your way out of this one.

"hm?" he softly nudges you, looking at you with tenderness you've never seen before, and suddenly, you don't have it in you to lie.

"I'm a bit jealous.. of everyone. I hate that everyone suddenly wants to look at you, I hate that girls now ask you for your number, I hate that some of them try to make moves by asking you to tutor them or help them with something. but I cant control what you do." you somehow admitted, your breath shallower than it was a few minutes ago.

you continue, "I know I shouldn't be. I know you like me. there's just this part of me, this voice inside of me that won't shut up about it."

you couldn't meet his eyes after, scared of his reaction.

jake could see it. the way blood rushed to your cheeks from embarrassment, the way you were bracing for something painful, like a bad reaction from him.

he just smiled fondly.

"I chose you. flaws and all. you're the one who makes me smile with just a look, you're the one who makes my heart beat in an unexplainable rhythm, you're the one I look at and wonder, 'wow, I can't believe she chose me.' y/n, it's you."

your eyes widen, because for the longest time, you forced yourself to believe you were the only one who felt this deeply about your relationship.

"you can tell me when you feel these types of things, I'll comfort you, I'll reassure you, I'll hold you tight and never let go." he searched your eyes for approval, and when you finally looked at him, teary eyes you couldn't quite explain, he engulfed you in a tight hug.

your fingers curled into his hoodie.

"do you believe me now?"

"I do. I believe you."

and he smiles, holding you tighter.

© juwonsicle . 2026

You jumped in your seat, startled by the sudden familiar, amused voice. You yelped when you leaned too far back, vision tilting backward, only to be stopped by the intruder, who appeared behind you in a blink of an eye. He steadied your chair with one hand on it while the other rested on your shoulder.

"Careful, wouldn't want my wife to get injured because of me," he joked, unfazed when you delivered a slap to the hand that's resting on your shoulder.

"Shut up, Heeseung. What are you doing here?" You asked, looking at him over your shoulder.

His signature grin stretched wider across his face. Despite the blindfold shielding his eyes, he's able to see you without any issues—something you never understood till now. He withdrew his hands, moving to lean against your desk with his hands braced on both sides of him.

"You weren't there when I reached home. I got worried, thought you were in trouble and came to check in on you," he answered.

You rolled your eyes. "I don't know about you, but I think working overtime counts as being in trouble."

Your husband snorted, leaning over as he pulled the blindfold up, revealing his right eye to get a clearer look at the document you had been staring at for the past thirty minutes.

Even though you were married for one year, seeing his mesmerizing eyes never fail to take your breath away. There's something about them, especially when he had them covered from public most of the time—due to his ability.

Unlike everyone else, Heeseung's eyes is special. His eyes is one of the few reasons why he's known as The Strongest Sorcerer in today's society. Heck, it's also mentioned that the moment he was born, the world shifted to adjust to him. That's how powerful he is, to the point where the elders of the council fear him.

To them, he's someone they can't control, someone who's not their puppet and someone who refuse to bow their heads, obeying every command they issue. He's a double-edged weapon and that alone, is enough to prove how powerful he is.

His eyes—a striking, almost unreal shade of white mixed with crystalline blue, resemblances the frozen light rather than irises, like the sky itself shattered and was sealed inside them, glowing softly yet piercing straight through you with terrifying clarity.

But being able to witness them gives you the front-row seat of admiring how pretty they are. You weren't aware that you were caught red-handed, until Heeseung grabbed your jaw, tilting your chin up slightly.

"Done staring?" He drawled and it hits you that his blindfold was completely removed, now hanging off his free hand, allowing you to see his full, handsome face.

"I wasn't staring," you retorted but made no move to jerk your head away from his grip, despite how he was giving you ample time to do so.

Heeseung's sly grin stretched wider. "Right, let's pretend I didn't see you looking like you're about to jump on me."

Your face heats up. "Heeseung!"

He laughed at your flustered reaction, the sound light-hearted, genuine and cheerful. You, on the other hand, resorted to scowling while narrowing your eyes at him, with your arms now defensively crossed and lips unconsciously jutted out in a pout. Seeing this, the man cooed, reaching out to squish your cheeks.

You yelped, attempting to free yourself but it was futile. When it comes to a showdown of strength, Heeseung never fails to remind you how he can easily manhandle you as he pleased, how he can throw you over his shoulders without breaking a sweat or blinking an eye and the list goes on.

You refuse to admit it but you liked it when he does that, not that you will admit it out loud or his ego will shoot through the roof.

After all, he's already insufferable than he is now.

Heeseung eventually calmed down, wiping away the tears threatening to slip from his eyes as he pushed himself off the desk, now standing and towering over you with his full height.

"Wanna go?" He asks softly, looking at you with nothing but pure love and adoration—the sight that is specially reserved for you.

You pursed your lips, glancing at the documents before sighing. "Fine, let's go. But," you continued when you saw him about to say something.

"I'm driving," you finished.

Heeseung frowned. "Wha—? But it's the husband's job to drive his wife home."

Your heart skipped a beat at the words his wife but you stood your ground. "No, I nearly died when you drove us home last week."

He gasps, resting a hand on his chest with a mock offended look on his face, watching as you begin packing up. "But you're still alive so that's a good thing, right?"

You paused mid-action of shoving your laptop into your work bag, throwing him a sharp, pointed look. "One more word from you and I'm killing you."

"Like you can reach me through my Infinity."

ONE YEAR AGO…

Your life was randomly flipped upside down five months into your new position as a CEO of your own company. Everything was going as you planned—your sales skyrocketing like no tomorrow, your business's reputation blowing up with you breaking records and achieving goals that you thought it was impossible to in the first place.

In conclusion, things were smooth-sailing for you, until he appears in your life without a warning. There was nothing. Like he's meant to disrupt the structure you spent your entire life building, like he's meant to create chaos everywhere he goes.

You've heard of his name from people's lips, about how he's equivalent to a one man army and how in the sorcerer's world, he's The Strongest.

The news struck you out of nowhere. You were packing up, getting ready to head home when your phone started ringing, vibrating on the spot on your messy, cluttered desk. You paused, staring at it with a frown.

A part of you want to decline the call when you didn't recognize the number but another part of you knew that the caller will kept calling you.

Sighing, you accepted the call and put it on speaker mode as you left your phone on the desk.

"Hello?"

"Good evening, is this Miss (Full Name)?"

You stilled at the mention of your full name spoken by an unfamiliar, professional woman voice. "..Yes, who is this and how did you get my number?"

"Apologies but I am calling regarding your arranged marriage with Lee Heeseung, which your father had mentioned in his will, after he passed away."

Silence.

Your blood turned cold. Your eyes widened and the notebook you held in your grip fell to the carpeted floor, the cluttering sound muffled. You blinked once. Twice. Raising your left hand, you pinched your own cheek, flinching when you felt the stinging pain.

So this isn't a dream.

You let out a shaky, incredulous laugh. "I'm sorry, what? What do you mean an arranged marriage with Lee Heeseung? Isn't that the—"

"—The Strongest Sorcerer? Yes, you are right. Your father's will mentioned should he passed away, he wants you to be wedded to him," the woman smoothly continued on the other end, her voice even and steady. Like she was telling you something as minor as the weather itself when it was far from that.

You forced your lips to move, forcing your voice to be heard despite how your mind was gradually blanking out. "But why now? My father passed away five years ago. And why me?"

The woman went quiet for a few seconds, not expecting you to resist before she spoke up. "Miss (Full Name), I do not know the full details of why you were chosen. As far as I am aware, this is something both the council and your father agreed on."

Your heart stopped beating at her words, falling to the depths of your stomach. You didn't know what to say, staring at your phone with the call still ongoing, like it had committed a grave, major crime. After what felt like eternity, you cleared your throat as you regained your composure.

"Fine, what do you need from me?" You replied, surrendering to your unavoidable fate.

"You are to come to the address I will be sending you shortly tomorrow, at one in the afternoon sharp. You will be meeting Heeseung and we will then proceed with preparations for the wedding ceremony."

You dryly swallowed at the mention of wedding ceremony. Your fingers curled tighter into the flesh of your palm to ground yourself.

"…Understood."

"See you tomorrow, Miss (Name). Enjoy the rest of your evening."

And just like that, the woman hang up without waiting for your response. Her last statement felt like a form of mockery. How does she expect you to enjoy the rest of your evening after dropping a huge bombshell on your life. A bombshell that will change the trajectory of your life.

Whether is it for the better or worse, only time will tell.

~

The next day arrived way too fast for your liking. You didn't went to work, not that you could focus in the first place. All you did was to text you personal assistant a simple text message, informing her that you have a personal matter to tend to and to push your schedule to tomorrow.

Being your own boss means you're able to take leaves without anyone questioning you—something you greatly appreciate as you're a private person.

After checking your appearance in the body-length mirror, you left your home and headed to the basement car park, where your car was waiting. The address the woman sent you was unfamiliar and after doing some research, it turns out it's located in the luxurious but traditional side of the city area.

It took you nearly an hour and a half to arrive at your destination—a sprawling traditional estate tucked far away from glass towers and neon arteries of the bustling and lively city. Here, it's more quieter, peaceful and serene. Something you rarely felt, even on your rare off days.

Hidden behind stone walls and iron gates stood a vast expanse of private land, its entrance heavily guarded but not by security, but rather—the unsettling stillness that felt intentional for your liking.

Beyond the gates show a long, gravel path curving through pine trees and sculpted gardens before revealing the main residence—a grand traditional hanok.

Its sweeping tiled roof elegantly curved towards the sky, dark wooden beams polished to a deep sheen. Paper-paneled doors glowed softly from the warm light within and a stone-lined pool reflects the structure, like a painting frozen in time. It was luxurious without being loud. Every detail is deliberate, restrained and old money.

You felt something shifted in the air the moment you walk through the gates. This isn't just a simple residence. No, this is legacy, power and authority.

And that alone, is enough to send shivers down your spine.

The first person to greet you is a woman wearing a traditional Hanbok attire, dressed in muted shades of gray and white. She bowed when you stopped before her, hands hidden beneath the long sleeves of her clothes.

"Welcome, Miss (Name). I am Hana, the woman who spoke to you on the phone yesterday," she introduced herself as she rose to her full height, hands politely clasped before her.

Recognition flickered across your face before it was gone in a blink of an eye. "Nice to meet you, Hana."

You politely greeted her, unsure of what else to say. Thankfully, Hana isn't the talkative type as she turned, gesturing for you to follow her. The two of you walked side by side down a long hallway, footsteps muffled with every step you took on the smooth, wooden floor.

You glanced around, noting how there were both men and women dressed in the same clothes as her, to which you assumed they must be servants of the estate you are in.

None of you said a word until she stopped before a closed sliding door. She turned to you, her expression unreadable but you swore you saw something akin to pity in her eyes.

"The council is waiting for you and a word of caution to you, Miss (Name)—do not be scared."

You blinked, bemused with her vague warning but you didn't get the chance to say anything as she slid it open, moving to the side for you to enter. You inhaled and exhaled slowly to calm yourself as you stepped into the room with Hana closing the door behind you, leaving you completely on your own.

Five elders were seated opposite of you as sat by their respective low desks, with steaming tea cups placed before them. They sat in a semi-circle formation and unlike them, there was no chair or cushion provided, leaving you to stand on your two feet.

The drastic and noticeable difference of comfort didn't went unnoticed by you and that alone is enough to tell you what kind of people the elders are.

The man in the middle cleared his throat, eyes landing on you slowly, like it physically pains him to do so. "Miss (Name), thank you for coming today on such short notice. I'm sure this must be surprising to you but please keep in mind that we're doing this to honor your father' wish."

Swallowing the urge to snort, you chose to nod your head. The lesser you spoke, the sooner you could get this done and over with. Another man seated on his right, spoke up.

"As mentioned in his will, he wants you to be wedded to Lee Heeseung. The ceremony will take place next week. Hana will be taking your measurements for your dress. You do not need to do anything else."

Hearing this, you frowned. "What do you mean? What about the venue, the cake-testing and the rest?"

"Those will be handled by us."

You narrowed your eyes, hands now curled into fists by your sides. "That doesn't make any sense. I came here willingly and now you're telling me that I can't even plan my own wedding?"

The five men were unfazed with your resistance. "Like we've mentioned before—"

"Now now, how about we all take a breather before someone loses their temper?"

A laid-back, amused male voice interrupts the conversation. You felt it without turning around. The way the air shifted slightly to accommodate to him. The way the five men stiffened at the sight of him as he stepped into the room at a slow, languid pace—like he's taking a slow stroll in a park.

The way the temperature dropped slightly and the way everything went very still, as if one single movement will lead to destruction.

A tall figure entered your sights as he stood on your right, hands casually shoved into the pockets of his pants. You peered at him from the corner of your eyes, noting the black fabric shielding his eyes and that made you wondered—how is he able to see where he's going without knocking into people?

He's striking in a way that feels deliberate—like the universe took the time to craft him with utmost care, attention and love.

Silver hair falls in soft, layered strands, catching the light with a muted sheen that borders on ethereal. It's not flat gray, but something brighter, like moonlight brushing over steel. It contrasts sharply against the black blindfold securely wrapped around his eyes.

Deprived of sight, your eyes drifted down—the sharp line of his jaw, the clean slope of his nose and the faint curve of lips that held an almost, permanent amused tilt—like he knows something no one does.

"Lee Heeseung, what is the meaning of this?" One of them questioned.

"Am I not allowed to be here? This is my home too, you know," he answered without missing a beat, lips curling further up, "and besides, it's only right for both the bride and groom to be present when it's related to our wedding."

The men shared a look among themselves, like they were hesitant to speak up. Seeing this, Heeseung took the chance to continue. But unlike before, his voice became serious and firm, sending shivers down your spine at how quick his personality changes.

"Since when it's up to you to plan a wedding? I know what you people are trying to do," he sneered, words dripping with disdain as he stepped forward. Just a simple, mindless action is enough to make them turned as still as a statue.

You observed from where you stood, not daring to move a single muscle as you didn't want his attention to fall on you. Heeseung, on the other hand, continued staring down at the elders with his lips now pursed in a thin line.

"So, here's how things are gonna go: Miss (Name) and I will be taking over. And no, it's not up for discussion," he warns.

Baam!

Hearing this, someone rose from his seat and slammed his hands down on the table. The sound was loud enough to echo among the four walls of the room.

"Lee Heeseung, may we remind you that just because you're The Strongest does not mean you're allowed to do whatever you want and—"

Heeseung barked out a laugh—cold, humorless and sharp. Sharp enough to slice through glass. His hands moved to lift the left corner of his blindfold up, high enough to reveal his left, singular eye.

You couldn't see his eye but what you can see was the elder's reactions—the way they froze, the way their shoulders and muscles tensed up and the way they went silent, unable to utter a single word.

"Exactly why I can do whatever I want. All you old fucks know how to do is to sit there, acting all high and mighty while ordering people around. But you forget one thing," he paused for a moment, letting his words sink in before he continued.

"I'm not like the others."

Without waiting for the elders' reactions, Heeseung pulled his blindfold back on to cover his eye. He approached you, grabbed your wrist with his fingers almost touching as he stormed out of the room while dragging you out with him. You yelped when you tripped over your feet, eyes squeezed shut to brace yourself for the incoming impact.

But there was none.

"Woah, careful."

Opening your eyes, you found yourself being steadied with a large hand on your waist while the other is on your shoulder. You looked up to see Heeseung looking down at you, through his blindfold with a gentle smile on his face—a huge contrast to how he was a few minutes ago. You stared at him, all wide-eyed and tongue-tied as he steadied you until you were standing on your feet.

"So, you're the man I'm marrying?" You asked as you patted down your clothes, getting rid of the invisible dust.

"Rightfully so. Why? Disappointed?" He replied, chuckling at how you scowled.

"You're not supposed to answer my question with your own," you pointed out.

"I just did," he snickered, unfazed when you reached out to smack his shoulder. "But yes, we're getting married in uh, when is it again?"

"Two weeks," you deadpanned.

Heeseung snapped his fingers. "Yes, two weeks. We should get going."

"Wha-? Where are we going?" You spluttered as you were dragged forward for the second time, struggling to match his pace. Curse him and his long legs.

Heeseung looked at you over his shoulder with a easy smile. "To get your measurements, Mrs. Lee."

BACK TO PRESENT…

When both of you got home, it's a standard routine for you to prepare dinner. You didn't change out of your work clothes, throwing on an apron and opened the refrigerator. Grabbing the first few ingredients you see, you nudged it close with your left knee, as your hands were full.

The kitchen was filled with the rapid sounds of you slicing the vegetables and meat. You were in the middle of cutting when a pair of arms snaked themselves around your waist.

You dropped the knife and it would had sliced your fingers if Heeseung wasn't fast enough, catching it mid-air as he placed it on the chopping board.

"You need to stop sneaking up on me," you complained but despite your words, you found yourself slightly leaning against him, body going pliant in his arms.

Heeseung chuckled, his hot breath grazing against your sensitive skin, sending shivers down your spine and goosebumps forming.

"Sorry, can't help myself," he apologize, even though he doesn't sound sorry at all.

Rolling your eyes, you continued slicing the vegetables until you were done and headed to the stove with a six foot something clinging onto you. Before you could do anything else, Heeseung clicked his tongue and steps back, taking you with him.

You looked at him over your shoulder, confused and dread filled your stomach at the sight of his mischievous smile.

"How about this: I'll handle the cooking while you can go and take a shower," he proposed.

You were quick to spin on the spot, your hair nearly slapping him right in the face if he didn't put up his Infinity in the nick of time. You pointed your finger at him.

"The answer is no, Heeseung. The last time you cooked, our house nearly burned down because someone didn't know how to fry an egg," you retorted while repeatedly jabbing his chest with your finger.

Your husband gasped, acting gravely offended, like you had committed a major crime. "That was one time! I didn't know you need to add oil into the pan first!"

Your left eyebrow twitched. "Anyone with common sense will know that you need to add oil first! And not just, dump the egg into the pan!" You paused, running a hand through your hair and pointed at the doorway that leads to the living room connected to the kitchen.

"Just go and do what you need to do while I make dinner. The further you are away from the kitchen, the better it is for my sanity," you continued.

"But—"

"Lee Heeseung, one more word from you and you're sleeping on the couch," you threatened him, a dangerous glint glowed in your eyes.

It didn't matter if you're married to someone who can quite literally, kill you faster than you could blink or breathe. When it's just the two of you, his facade was tossed aside, leaving him as nothing more than a simple man who's hopelessly in love with his wife.

Sighing, he left the kitchen and if he has ears and a tail, you knew they will flop down with how he dragged himself out, acting like he was banished to a corner for misbehaving.

You rolled your eyes, used to his theatrics and wasted no time in preparing dinner. It only took you twenty minutes for you to finish—having made stir-fried vegetables with mushroom, sweet and sour chicken and steamed eggs, topping everything off with rice, as it's a staple and must-have food for the both of you.

Heeseung automatically came back once he smell the fragrance wafting in the air. He aided you in setting the table. Once the plates and utensils are properly set up, you took your respective seats and began digging in.

You watched expectantly as he took the first bite, practically shoving a generous mouthful of food into his mouth.

Even with his blindfold on, you could see the giddiness and happiness on his face, especially with how he was literally glowing—something you thought was impossible.

But when it comes to someone like Heeseung, the word impossible doesn't exist in his dictionary. You couldn't help but giggle at how his reaction, finding him cute.

"Does it taste good?" You asked, finally digging in to the food you made.

He eagerly nodded his head at breakneck speed. It's a miracle he didn't dislocate his neck. "Yea, it does! As expected of my talented wife."

Your cheeks heat up at his sudden compliment as you scooped another spoon of steamed eggs to pair it with your rice. "Shut up and just eat your food."

Heeseung chuckled but didn't prod further. The dining table was engulfed in comfortable silence, filled with the occasional clink clanking of utensils before you broke it with a question that had been lingering in the back of your mind.

"Say, you've never told me anything about yourself," you started off, glancing at him as you reached over, grabbing some vegetables with your chopsticks.

"Oh, I didn't? Well, what do you wanna know?"

You didn't answer immediately, only replying after you swallowed your food. "What do you do?"

Silence.

Heeseung paused mid-action, spoon hovering in the air with his mouth open. He stared at you through his blindfold, going as still as a statue. You were about to apologize at the abrupt question with the prolonged silence but he shifted, hooking two long and slender fingers up the side of the fabric to tug them up, removing it from his head.

The movement messed his silver hair up. He simply ran a hand through his hair, white eyes mixed with a shade of blue as he leaned back into his seat. Placing his spoon down into his half-eaten bowl of rice, he chewed on his bottom lip, unaware of how your eyes zeroed in on his action.

"You need to be more specific than that. I do a lot of things," he pointed out, a faint smile tugging on his lips.

"Like, I know you're The Strongest and all that. Do you do paperwork? Or do you just, go around and complete assigned missions?" You elaborated.

"You're not wrong. I do missions, go around to save civilians while overseeing students."

You blinked and let out a snort.

Heeseung arched an eyebrow. "What's so funny?"

"Sorry, but I can't imagine you as a teacher, out of all things. I pity your students," you snickered at the way he playfully narrowed his eyes at you.