𝘮𝘺𝘴𝘵ifying

You were late. You were always late, and the irony wasn't lost on you as you adjusted the straps of the dress one last time in the reflection of the glass door. It was a slip of dark silk that felt like a second skin, a choice that felt like a declaration of war or a desperate peace offering—you weren't sure which yet.

When you finally spotted him, he was hunched over a drink, his large frame looking almost too big for the mid-century stool. He looked different, but the way he held his glass—fingers long and steady, tracing the rim—was exactly the same.

"You still take a long time to get ready, I see" Anton said before you even reached the bar.

He didn't look up immediately. He let the words hang there, a soft, teasing blow that landed right in the center of your chest. When he finally lifted his head, the dim light caught the sharp line of his jaw and the soft, observant depth of his eyes. His gaze didn't just land on your face; it swept down, taking in the dress, the way the fabric pooled at your hips, the way your collarbone dipped as you took a shaky breath.

He let out a short, dry huff of a laugh, shaking his head as he looked back at his drink. "You're really wearing that one? That's mean, even for you."

"I didn't think you'd remember it" you lied, sliding onto the stool next to him. The proximity was an immediate mistake. You could smell him—that familiar mix of something clean and something woody—and it made your head feel heavy, just like the lyrics of that song you’d both obsessed over.

"I remember the zip was stuck" he muttered, his voice dropping into that low, mumble-soft register that used to vibrate against your skin in the dark. "I remember how much you complained about the price. I remember everything, actually."

He finally turned his body toward you, his knee brushing against your thigh. It was a ghost of a touch, but in the vacuum of your shared history, it felt like an electric shock. Anton looked tired, his eyes carrying a weight that wasn't there a year ago. He looked like a man who had spent too much time thinking and not enough time feeling.

"We're just catching up, right?" he asked, though his eyes were searching yours for a contradiction. "No patching things up. No messy 'who-did-what' talk. Just... a drink. Like people who didn't ruin each other."

"Just a drink" you agreed, your voice sounding thin to your own ears.

Anton leaned in then, his elbow resting on the bar as he moved closer, invading your personal space with a practiced ease. He reached out, his thumb catching a stray strand of hair near your ear and tucking it back. His skin was warm, and he let his hand linger for a second too long, his thumb grazing the shell of your ear.

"Liars" he whispered, a small, sad smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "We're both such good liars."

You pursed your lips, a small, knowing smile tugging at the corners of your mouth as you shook your head. It was so typical of him—trying to set boundaries that he was already breaking with a single look.

"You're the one who started it" you murmured, watching as he signaled the bartender.

He led the way to a small, circular table tucked away in a booth that felt a little too private, a little too much like a sanctuary. He didn't even have to ask; he ordered a strawberry mojito for you and a simple plate of snacks to pick at. It was that effortless familiarity that hurt the most—the way he didn't need to consult a menu to know exactly what you wanted when your nerves were shot.

For a while, the conversation was safe. You talked about work, the mutual friends you’d drifted away from, and the mundane updates of a life lived apart. Anton listened with that quiet, heavy intensity of his, nodding along, his eyes never really leaving yours. It was easy, almost too easy, to pretend that the months of silence between you were just a long pause in a conversation that hadn't actually ended.

But then, a lull fell over the table. The kind of silence that happens when you run out of small talk and the big talk starts looming in the shadows.

The speakers overhead crackled softly before the first warbling, lo-fi chords of the song began to bleed into the room. It was raw and hazy, the guitar notes sounding like they were being pulled through water.

Anton froze for a split second, his glass halfway to his lips. He knew this song. He knew what it meant to both of you. He set the glass down with a slow, deliberate click and looked at you, his expression softening into something dangerously vulnerable.

"Dance with me" he said. It wasn't really a question.

You felt the heat crawl up your neck, a deep blush staining your cheeks as you instinctively shook your head, looking down at the melting ice in your drink. "Anton, no. There’s hardly any room, and I’m..."

"You're in that dress" he interrupted softly, standing up. He didn't wait for a second rejection. He moved around the table and came to a halt in front of you, towering over you in that way that always made the rest of the room disappear.

He reached down, offering his hands, palms up. His fingers were long and steady, waiting for yours. You let out a long, shaky sigh—the sound of someone who had already lost the fight—and placed your hands in his.

He led you to the small, cleared-out space near the back where a few other couples were swaying in the dim light. The floorboards creaked under his boots as he turned to face you.

Anton didn't hesitate. He slid one large hand around your waist, his palm warm and firm through the thin silk of your dress, pulling you just close enough that your breaths began to sync. His other hand stayed locked with yours, his thumb tracing the back of your knuckles.

You settled your free hand against the center of his chest, feeling the steady, heavy thrum of his heart beneath the fabric of his shirt. The song swirled around you, messy and emotive, and for a moment, the distance between "catching up" and "falling back" completely vanished.

You kept your gaze fixed on the buttons of his shirt, a bittersweet ache blooming in your chest that felt heavier than the silence between you. The scent of him was a cruel reminder of every night you’d spent trying to forget how safe you felt in his arms. It felt like standing on the edge of a cliff you’d already fallen off once before.

Anton seemed to sense the shift in your breathing. He shifted his weight, leaning down until his forehead brushed yours before he tucked his face into the crown of your head. He took a long, shaky breath, inhaling the scent of your hair as if he’d been starved of it.

"I'm sorry" he murmured, his voice muffled and thick with a regret he hadn't let himself voice until now. "I’m so sorry I pulled away."

His hand on your waist tightened, drawing you flush against him. "Things just got... too hard. Life was being mean, and I could feel myself starting to get meaner too. I didn't want to be that person for you. I didn't want to take it out on you, so I thought if I just backed off, I’d be saving us." He let out a ghost of a frustrated laugh against your hair. "But I just ended up hurting you more, didn't I? I was trying to be noble and I was just a coward."

Your fingers curled into the dark fabric of his shirt, bunching the material tightly in your fists. The honesty in his voice was a sharp blade, cutting through the protective layers you’d built up over the months. Your eyes stung, the familiar heat of tears blurring your vision as you shook your head against his chest.

"Anton" you whispered, your voice trembling. "Stop. You’re going to ruin my makeup."

He pulled back just enough to look at you, his thumb catching a stray tear before it could track down your cheek. His expression was soft, a pained sort of tenderness in his eyes that made your heart skip a beat.

"Sorry" he said again, his voice dropping into that low, gentle register. "Stay here."

He stepped away for a brief second, returning with a clean napkin from the bar. He didn't just hand it to you; he held your chin tilted up, watching with focused intensity as you took it from him and carefully dabbed at the corners of your eyes, mindful of the eyeliner you’d spent thirty minutes perfecting.

A small, genuine chuckle broke from his throat as he watched you work. "True. Sorry. It really would be mean to mess it all up now, especially when you took so long getting ready."

You let out a wet laugh, your hand flying out to hit his shoulder softly. "Shut up, Anton. Seriously."

"I'm being for real" he said, his smile lingering even as his gaze turned serious again. He reached out, his fingers skating over your hip, the touch lingering on the silk of the dress. The tension hadn't fully dissipated, but the air felt clearer, lighter. "Look, it’s late. Let me take you home, at least? Just so I know you got back okay."

You stayed quiet for a long moment, pursing your lips as you weighed the risk. You knew how this story usually went—one of you would say something you didn't mean, or worse, something you did mean, and the night would end in a beautiful, tangled mess. But as you looked at him standing there, wait-listed for a second chance he didn't even think he deserved, the logic didn't matter. You just needed him. You needed the closure, or the beginning, or whatever was left of the "us" you’d been grieving.

You gave a small, resigned nod, and the tension in his shoulders visibly ebbed away.

The walk to his car was brisk, the night air turning sharp and damp. True to form, he beat you to the passenger side, pulling the door open and holding it steady while you tucked the hem of your dress inside. The drive was a heavy, quiet blur. Anton didn't need to ask for directions; his hands moved on the steering wheel with the muscle memory of a thousand previous trips to your apartment.

Outside, a soft drizzle began to smear the streetlights into hazy orbs of gold against the pavement. The radio was nothing more than a low, static-laced hum, filling the gaps where neither of you knew what to say.

When he pulled up to the curb, he didn't just let you out. He reached into the back for an umbrella, stepping out into the rain and circling the car to shield you before you could even reach for the handle.

"Don't want the dress getting ruined" he murmured, tilting the umbrella toward you as he walked you toward the lobby door.

You stood under the small overhang of the entrance, the sound of the rain hitting the canvas above you like a frantic heartbeat. The silence here felt different—final. Anton looked at you, his face unreadable in the shadows, before he gave a slow, stiff nod. It wasn't an angry gesture; it was the look of a man accepting a sentence.

"Okay" he said, his voice barely audible over the rain. "I'll leave. Goodnight."

He started to turn away, his boots scuffing against the concrete, and for a second, you almost let him. But then your hand shot out, your fingers hooking around his pinky finger—a small, desperate anchor.

Anton froze. He looked down at your hand, then back up at your face. You were looking at him with wide, glassy eyes, your bottom lip trembling just enough to be dangerous. You smeared your lipgloss as you bit your lip, your head shaking a slow, silent no.

"Come... in?" you asked quietly, the words almost getting lost in the wind.

The umbrella tilted slightly as his grip on the handle tightened. He didn't answer with words; he just let out a long, shaky exhale and followed you toward the door.

The elevator ride up was a quiet hum of shared breath and unspoken questions. When the door to your apartment clicked open, the transition felt surreal. Anton stepped inside, leaning the dripping umbrella against the wall and stepping out of his shoes with a practiced ease that suggested he’d never really been gone.

You watched him as he moved into the living room. His eyes roamed the space, curious and sharp, landing on the new sage-green sofa and the plush rug that replaced the one you’d spilled wine on a year ago. He looked like a man visiting a museum of a life he’d helped build but was no longer a part of.

"You changed the rug" he noted softly, his voice echoing in the quiet of the room.

"Yeah" you breathed, standing in the middle of the floor, feeling suddenly shy in your own home. "It was... time for a change. Do you want some water? Or—"

You started to turn toward the kitchen, but Anton moved faster. He stepped into your space, his large hands reaching out to find your waist, the heat of his palms soaking through the silk of your dress instantly.

"No" he murmured, shaking his head before you could finish the offer.

He didn't pull you in roughly; instead, he leaned forward until his forehead rested against yours, his eyes fluttering shut. His thumbs traced the curve of your hip bones, steadying both of you. "No water. Just... stay here. Let me touch you for a second. I just need to know you're real."

The honesty in his voice broke the last of your defenses. You reached up, wrapping your arms around his neck and rising onto your tiptoes to close the gap. You buried your face in the crook of his neck, hugging him with a desperate, bone-deep tightness that said everything you hadn't been able to put into words.

Anton let out a jagged sigh, his arms winding around your back, crushing you against his chest as if he were trying to merge back into your life by sheer force of will. He held you like you were the only thing keeping him grounded, his nose brushing against your temple.

"I missed you" he whispered against your skin, a confession that felt like a prayer. "God, I missed you so much."

You pulled back just enough to look at him, your hands framing his face, your thumbs smoothing over the sharp line of his cheekbones. His eyes were dark, but the edges were beginning to soften into something much more tender.

Neither of you moved for a long beat, just staring, memorizing the way the low light hit the other’s features. Then, as if the gravity between you finally became too much to resist, Anton leaned in.

The kiss was soft at first—a tentative, bruisingly sweet question. It tasted like the strawberry of your drink and the lingering rain from outside, a slow-motion collision of two people finally finding their way home through the dark.

The kiss shifted instantly, losing its tentative edge and sharpening into something desperate. It was the sound of a year of holding your breath finally being exhaled. Anton’s hands, which had been so steady at the bar, were suddenly restless, his palms sliding up from your waist to cup your face, his thumbs hooking under your jaw to tilt your head back. He tasted like the night—cool rain and the lingering sweetness of fruit—and he made a low, needy sound in the back of his throat when your tongue flicked against his.

"The bedroom" he rasped against your lips, not waiting for an answer.

He didn't let go of you as he backed you toward the hallway, his boots scuffing the floor in a clumsy, urgent rhythm. He pinned you against the doorframe for a second, his mouth dropping to your neck. He wasn't being gentle anymore; he was breathing heavily, his open-mouthed kisses hot and damp against your skin, marking the spot right where your shoulder met your throat. A jagged moan escaped him, vibrating against your collarbone.

"Anton" you breathed, your hands scrambling for the buttons of his shirt. Your fingers were shaking, fumbling with the fabric until you managed to pop the first few. You pushed the shirt off his heavy shoulders, the material pooling on the floor as he finally reached for the back of your dress.

He found the zipper, his fingers catching on the familiar snag. "Still stuck" he muttered, a frustrated, breathless huff of a laugh escaping him. He didn't force it; he worked it with a focused intensity, until the silk finally gave way. The dress slid down your body, a dark puddle of fabric at your feet, leaving you in nothing but your bra and lace.

His eyes were dark, almost black in the shadows of the room, as he took you in. He reached behind you, his large hands dwarfing your frame as he unhooked your bra with a practiced flick of his wrist. When it fell away, he let out a sharp, hitching breath, his hands coming around to cup your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your nipples until you whimpered.

He moved you toward the bed, the mattress dipping under your weight as he pushed you back onto the pillows. He stayed between your legs, his hands roaming over your ribcage and down to your tummy, his kisses following the path of his fingers. He was so vocal now, every breath a heavy huff of desire, every touch accompanied by a low, guttural rumble of approval as he pulled your lace down your legs.

He leaned down, his mouth moving from your stomach to the soft skin of your inner thighs. He went agonizingly slow, peppering the sensitive skin with biting kisses that made your hips arch off the bed.

"You taste so good" he groaned, his voice thick and wrecked. "I’ve spent every night thinking about this."

He didn't make you wait. He moved lower, his hands gripping your thighs to hold you open for him. When his tongue finally met you, it wasn't tentative. He used his tongue flat and firm, tasting your sweetness with a rhythmic, hungry focus. He was thorough, his face pressed into you as he drank you in, his own moans muffled against your skin. The sensation was overwhelming—the heat of him, the friction, the way he seemed to know exactly how to drive you to the edge of the cliff you’d been hovering over all night.

Your fingers tangled into his hair, pulling softly—not enough to hurt, but just enough to ground him as a needy, broken sound left your throat. "Anton, please... I need you. I really need you."

He paused, looking up at you with a small, breathless smile that was more tender than anything you’d ever seen. He leaned in for one last lingering kiss on your inner thigh before standing up at the edge of the bed. You watched him, your breath hitching as he unbuckled his belt and let his jeans and boxers fall to the floor. Even in the dim light, he looked like a god—broad-shouldered and solid, a sight you’d replayed in your head a thousand times during the year of silence.

He crawled back onto the mattress, looming over you as he braced his weight on his forearms. He took a moment to wipe his face with the back of his hand, his eyes never leaving yours, before leaning down to capture your lips in a deep, searing kiss. His hand reached down between you, coating himself in your shared dampness and his own saliva, preparing you both with a focus that made your stomach flip.

"I've got you" he whispered against your mouth. "I'm right here now."

Then, he guided himself in. He moved slowly, his face contorting with a low, guttural moan as he finally slid home, the friction of it making your eyes roll back. He didn't rush into a rhythm; he just stayed there for a beat, buried deep inside you, his forehead resting against yours as he let out a shaky exhale.

His hand found your waist, his fingers splaying wide across your skin, while his other arm braced himself firmly beside your head. He began to move, his thrusts deep and deliberate, pulling almost all the way back before pushing back in with a heavy, grounding force. He was navigating the familiar terrain of your body with a precision that only came from years of loving you.

When he adjusted his angle, finding that one specific spot that made your toes curl and your breath hitch, he let out a soft, triumphant huff. He smiled against the skin of your neck, his lips grazing your pulse point as he felt you pulse around him.

"There it is" he murmured, his voice thick with satisfaction. "I remembered."

You couldn't answer, your hands reaching around to his back, your nails grazing the skin of his lats. You held him tight, your legs wrapping around his waist to pull him even deeper, needing to close every millimeter of space between you. The sound of the rain outside was drowned out by the steady rhythm of his body against yours and the way he kept whispering your name like it was the only word he knew.

The pace began to climb, the friction of the silk sheets beneath you and the heat of his skin against yours creating a fever pitch. Anton was increasingly vocal, his usual quiet reserve completely shattered. He was making low, desperate sounds in the back of his throat, his breath coming in sharp, staggered hitches. He went faster, his movements turning into a blur of deep, heavy friction that made your vision swim and your heart hammer against your ribs.

He was focused, his eyes locked onto yours even as his face contorted with the effort of holding back. But then, his grip on your waist tightened until his knuckles went white, his head falling back as he reached the peak.

his body was shuddering with a violent release. He filled you up so completely, the sensation of him coming inside you making your own climax ripple through your nerves until you were breathless and shaking.

He didn't pull away. He collapsed forward, his weight heavy and grounding as he buried his face in the crook of your neck, his chest heaving against yours. The room was silent except for the sound of your shared, frantic breathing and the rain still drumming against the window.

Anton shifted slightly, propping himself up on his elbows to look down at you. His hair was a mess, his eyes were blown wide, and he looked more "home" than he had in years. He reached out, his thumb gently wiping a stray, happy tear from the corner of your eye before he leaned down to press a soft, lingering kiss to your forehead.

"I love you" he whispered, the words steady and sure this time, no longer shadowed by the angst of the bar or the regret of the past.

You let out a long, shaky exhale, your eyes rolling back for a second in pure, exhausted bliss. A small, tired smile stretched across your lips as you reached up, tangling your fingers in his hair one last time to pull him down for a soft, sweet kiss.

the last thing you remember before heading to work was how hard it was to leave anton. 

the way his body felt against yours beneath the sheets immediately after you woke up, the way he returned your kisses just as deeply despite being so sluggish. even how his voice sounded as he did a horrible job convincing you to leave because he’d “be here when you got back”. needless to say, there was nothing you wanted more than to stay in bed with him all morning.

but you also had to remain employed.

so with every ounce of self control you could muster, you got ready and planted one last sloppy kiss on his lips, bolting out the front door to avoid another wave of hesitation.

the day that followed was excruciating. 

numerous complaints, your boss on your ass in the most passive aggressive way, and obviously a bunch of texts from anton about how much you were missed.

textbook definiton of your own personal hell, but of course you managed. the man waiting for you at home acting as incentive to get you through several hours of misery.

when the time comes you basically teleport home after clocking out, not even bothering to text anton that you’d be back soon.

because he was already waiting for you.

once you made it through the door you greeted each other and then you practically started clawing at him, dodging most questions about how your day had been.

“take me back to bed?” you plead, already dropping your bag and peeling your shirt off your body.

anton obliged with a smile on his face, giggling every time you’d pull away from a kiss to shed another layer of clothing.

it doesn’t take much time for you to end up back where you started earlier today—this time on top of the sheets, resting on all fours while anton’s hips brutally snapped into yours.

there was no doubt that it felt good, of course it did. but you were positive that you had a maximum of two orgasms in you at the moment and you were already too close to creaming all over anton’s cock. 

it was all too much too fast.

“toni—wait a second!” you pant, not missing the way your boyfriend goes completely rigid behind you. 

“baby, am i hurting you? i’m sorry let me–“

“no!” you interrupt, peering at him over your shoulder. when he gets a good look at you he can tell that you’re not upset, or disappointed even. 

you’re almost smiling.

anton’s face reads a mix of fear and confusion. but this only makes the grin spread wider across your lips.

“i don’t want you to stop,” you insist, reaching behind you to grip at his waist and urge him to untense. your touch is tender, contrasting the ache between your legs.

“but it could last longer and feel even better…if you just take it easy.” 

anton’s cheeks flush in an instant, but he doesn’t look away. he can’t bring himself to.

you genuinely don’t say it to embarrass or discourage him. it was the opposite actually.

but clearly the best way to get your point across would be to demonstrate.

“let me show you.”

you can feel his eyes on you as you arch your back, stopping when your chest is almost pressed into the mattress beneath you. then you use your free hand for balance, holding the rest of your weight as your knees slightly buckle.

the same hand that rests on anton’s waist forces his hips away slightly and you sigh. the brutal drag of each ridge of his cock against the warmth of your cunt has you shuddering.

then you press your hips backwards until his balls tap your clit. your head falls forward, feeling impossibly heavy when the tip of anton’s cock is buried inside. 

the change in speed is effortless, it feels like you’d waited all your life for the opportunity to show him how to take you this. how you wanted him to have you.

slow and deep, without any intent to rush through this.

anton hisses behind you, his bottom lip is caught beneath his top row of teeth as he watches your hole flutter around his cock.

a second passes before you lean forward and retreat again, just as unhurried in speed as before. you unintentionally clench and unclench, head spinning at the way anton fills you to the brim, your movements allowing him to him to bottom out completely. 

“shit—can you feel how deep you are now, ton? i’m sooo full.” you whine, mind racing as you ignore the sudden urge to feel shy while trapped under his stare.

anton places a hand on your lower back.

for leverage, not control.

“y-yeah,” he rasps, chest heaving as he has to fight off his orgasm even harder than before. “i can feel all of you, baby.”

his eyes travel down to where you’re connected and his hips buck forward on their own, disrupting your flow and forcing a gasp out of you.

every time the back of your thighs meet the top of his, your flesh slightly recoils, making him whisper a rushed “fuuuuck” under his breath. a faint smacking noise echoes across the four walls of your bedroom.

after some time you and anton silently agree on this pace you’ve set, then you’re planting both your hands back on the bed in front of you. 

instead of drawing yourself back and forth on his cock you let him have free reign, trusting that he understood what you needed.

the first controlled roll of his hips has you groaning, the sound is muffled by the sheets beneath you. your is cunt immediately responsive—dramatically squelching around anton’s cock, strangling like he’d try to run away.

“fuck! antonnnn,” you whimper, your breathing heavy and labored.

“right there, baby? is this what you wanted, am i doing a good job?” anton whines, tone nauseatingly sweet. him fishing for praise causes you to moan in response and you figure it's a better reply than none, words barely at the forefront of your mind.

he can’t help himself, pulling a hand away from its place on your hip to land an open handed smack on your right ass cheek.

you don’t mind at all—and he knows that. the sting has your mind hazy, body jerking and lips parted to whimper.

anton’s eyes are once again glued to where you’re intertwined. he's shockingly composed while he intentionally watches the way your pussy devours every inch of him, greedy and unashamed. 

but the moment he notices a white ring forming at the base of his cock he loses it.

his hips stutter and his head is thrown back. the noises that leave his mouth hit the ceiling before they meet your ears but the vulnerability of him whining and begging has you spent.

“you’re milking me dry,” anton pants, hips still meticulously grinding, occasional strokes so deep that your body threatens to fold further. “fuck—it’s like you're trying to swallow me whole.”

you feel dizzy at the sound of him of all people fixing his lips to say something so obscene.

“toni—c-close!” you mewl, throat growing dry with the way your mouth had been hanging open.

your head tilts, struggling to find the strength that allows you to spare a glance at anton over your shoulder. 

when your eyes do reach him you have to stop them from falling towards the back of your head again. 

“i know, baby.” anton coos, eyes trained well as they stay planted on you. 

then everything comes to a halt. 

you don’t have time to register what’s happening but you’re immediately whining at the loss of anton inside of you, lips fixed in a pout ready to complain.

meanwhile the same hands that dug into you, anchoring you to bed, are forcing you flat on your back and you’re met with a greedy gaze as anton hovers over you.

his ample lips are parted and looking excessively chewed on. he’s drenched in sweat, hair a mess—the longer pieces stuck to the sides of his neck as a sign of him avoiding a haircut for a few months. 

he tilts his hips, the blunt head of his cock nudging your throbbing clit. a cry leaves the back of your throat and you clench around nothing.

“toni, please.” you beg, already reaching between your legs to guide him back to where you needed him most.

“please? what happened to slowing down?” anton quips, tilting his head in forged confusion before taking your hand in his own and  placing it beside your head.

his eyes fall to your chest, watching the way your nipples harden, bust trembling with each jagged breath you take.  

whatever would’ve been next to leave your lips is left unsaid. anton’s already holding your thigh flush to his side, hips pressed forward at once until he’s buried to the hilt. he catches you completely off guard and you're positive that the way your face contorts is extreme.

with literally anybody else, missionary may have felt mediocre. 

but the weight of anton’s cock had you at a loss for words, forcing your chin toward the ceiling to avoid drool slipping out the sides of your mouth.

“nng—you’re so big, toni!” you moan, reaching out towards the man in front of you.

your grip finds his bicep, crescent moons indented in his skin as evidence of your squeeze. the corners of his lips twitch, but the smirk is wiped from his face in a heartbeat because your cunt continues to smother every sinful inch of him.

“you gotta stop squeezing, baby—fuck,” anton pants, abdomen flexing as you pulse around his rock hard cock. “i can’t move.”

“i’m trying, i swear.” you whine, eyes fluttering and struggling to stay open. “j-just so f-full.” 

you’re cockdrunk.

but it was nothing new, and there was not a lick of humiliation to be felt.

not while you think you can feel the tip of anton’s dick poking at your ribs.

after a few shallow breaths you feel two slender digits heavy and hot on your clit. the pressure loosens your hold on the breach between your legs, allowing anton to continue with slow thrusts.

your pussy is dribbling, the sheets beneath you completely soiled—no thanks to your boyfriend and the pit of your stomach has gone static, every surface of your body tacky with sweat.

when your ankles lock behind anton’s back to force him impossibly closer he let's out a strangled grunt. you can tell he’s straining every muscle in his body, forcing his hip not to snap into you. his jaw is clenched and his fingers dig into the flesh of your thigh so hard that you hiss.

your own hands come up to grasp at the supple flesh of your tits, anton’s eyes are glued to the way you begin to fondle your nipples. his tongue darts out to wet his bottom lip like he hasn’t eaten in days and you’re dangling a steak in front of him.

moving your hands out of the way he leans forwards until he’s within tonguing distance.

the first contact between his pout and your nipples has your toes curling until you feel a cramp. each breath you take ends in a whine, back arched towards anton.

“so good to me, ton.” you practically purr, hands cradling the sides of his head. your entire chest vibrates when he hums, biting down. not hard enough to actually hurt but the slight ache causes goosebumps to cover your body in an instant.

anton can tell you’re close when your hips that have been matching each of his thrusts grow sloppy, rhythm lost.

forcing your legs wide he holds you by the calf and places one of your ankles atop his shoulder, taking note of the way the next noise to leave you sounds similar to a sob.

“feels like you’re splitting me in half—goddd!” you whine, cut off by the gasp that rips through your chest when one of anton’s hands skillfully toys with your clit again. it’s gentle, the way his fingers circle and pinch just enough to make you tremble a bit.

it doesn’t take much longer for you to warn the man above you that you’re cumming. 

anton’s right behind you, breathing sporadically as his hips remain slow but less fluid due to each hot spurt of cum that he stuffs right back inside.

you're leaking an awful lot, every foggy through the length of your orgasm. but it's not too loud, you’re not begging him to pull out because it’s too much or clawing up the bed at the burn of overstimulation.

it was just enough.

before anton pulls out he places a kiss on the inside of your ankle that rests on his shoulder right next to his head, then he's lowering your leg until it’s flat against the mattress once again.

your eyes are nearly closed when you feel a pair of lips on yours. you melt into the kiss, a gentle hand holding anton at the side of his face. you’re greedily chasing after his lips when he tries to pull away.

when you finally have the energy you roll onto your side, awaiting anton’s entry into your field of view. your ears are ringing slightly as you lay still, beaming.

“you were right,” anton blurts out bashfully, his ears grow crimson. 

propped up on his elbow and completely facing you now he lifts his hand to your face, thumb carefully tracing the expanse of your cheek. “sorry you had to uh…tell me to slow down—well, for you to enjoy it i mean.”

your eyebrows furrow, chest heavy as you’re filled with admiration for the man in front of you. nudging your cheek further into the palm of his hand you turn your head to plant a peck there.

“don’t be ridiculous, toni.” you rasp, raising your own hand to brush the hair near his eyes away.

“i always enjoy myself,” you scoot closer. “i didn’t mean to imply that you weren’t satisfying me. you satisfy me plenty.” you emphasize the last word with a nudge of his cheek that now rests in your hand.

his massive eyes soften, pools of honey locked on yours. then he nods, lips curling at the sides as he fails to mask his relief at your confession. 

your hand returns to your side and then your head hits the pillow beneath you with a thud as you hold eye contact. now you’re the one grinning, lips parting again and voice no louder than a whisper. 

-> Next

the dorm was dead quiet by the time you slipped inside using the code anton sent. only the faint hum of the fridge in the kitchen and someone’s low snoring from another room broke the silence. you moved down the short hallway to his door at the end. he opened it before you could knock twice, standing there in the dim light from his room spilling out behind him. 184cm tall, broad shoulders filling the frame, black hoodie on, grey sweats sitting low on his hips. his hair was still a little damp from the quick shower after practice, face tired but eyes lighting up just a bit when they landed on you.

“hey,” he said softly, voice rough from the long day. no big smile, just that quiet relief. he stepped back to let you in and shut the door, locking it with a small click. the single room felt even smaller with him in it—bed pushed against one wall, desk cluttered with a notebook and earphones, practice hoodie tossed over the chair. the air smelled like his body wash mixed with the faint leftover sweat from hours of dancing.

he didn’t sit. instead he stayed standing right there in the middle of the room, a couple steps from the bed, legs slightly apart. “practice kicked my ass today,” he murmured, looking down at you. “new formation keeps changing at the last minute. my calves are killing me. couldn’t stop thinking about you the whole way back in the van.” he rubbed the back of his neck, then let his hand drop. “missed you. like, bad.”

his fingers hooked into the waistband of his sweats but he didn’t push them all the way down. just enough to pull his cock out, leaving the sweats bunched around his upper thighs. he was already half-hard, thick and heavy, the kind of size that matched his tall frame. at 22 it didn’t take much after days of no time for himself. he stood there solid, masculine, hoodie still covering his torso, sweats staying on like he was too tired to bother with more.

“kneel for me?” he asked, simple and direct, voice low so it wouldn’t carry. his hand rested on your shoulder for a second, guiding you down gently until your knees hit the wooden floor in front of him. the height difference was stark—you on your knees, him towering above, cock right at face level. he looked down at you, one hand lightly on the top of your head, thumb brushing your hair once.

you looked up at him, voice soft. “you look really tired, baby. long day?” your hand came up, wrapping around the base of him. he was warm, skin smooth over the growing hardness. you stroked him slowly a couple times, feeling him thicken fully in your grip.

“yeah… fucking exhausting,” he answered, breath hitching a little when your thumb rubbed over the head. “but this helps. missed your mouth.” he stayed standing, one hand now bracing lightly against the wall beside the door for balance, the other resting on your head.

you leaned in, lips parting to take him in. the first slide of your tongue along the underside made his hips twitch. “mmh… yeah, like that,” he breathed. you took him deeper, mouth warm and wet, working slowly at first because he was thick. your hands rested on his thighs through the sweats, feeling the solid muscle underneath.

anton let out a quiet groan, head tipping back for a second. “fuck, that’s good.” you pulled back a little, lips shiny, and murmured against him, “you’re already so hard. been thinking about this all day?” then you sank down again, taking more of him, tongue pressing flat.

“all fucking day,” he admitted, voice rough. his free hand stayed gentle in your hair but his hips started moving, slow at first, pushing into your mouth. he wasn’t rough, just needy, sliding deeper with each shallow thrust. the head bumped the back of your throat and he paused, letting you adjust. “shit… sorry, you okay?” he asked, looking down at you, eyes dark but still checking.

you nodded slightly, humming around him, the vibration making his thighs tense. “yeah, keep going,” you whispered when you pulled off for air, spit connecting your lips to his cock. “use my mouth if you need to.” then you took him back in, relaxing your throat as best you could.

he groaned again, quieter this time, and started fucking into your mouth in steady, controlled thrusts. hips rolling forward, cock sliding over your tongue, pushing deeper each time. the wet sounds were soft but clear in the quiet room—your mouth working him, his low breaths, the faint creak of the floor when he shifted his weight. his sweats stayed bunched around his thighs, fabric brushing your cheek sometimes when he moved.

“god, you feel so good,” he muttered, voice breaking a little. one hand cupped the back of your head now, not forcing but guiding the rhythm as he fucked your mouth. his other hand pressed flat against the wall, keeping him steady while his legs, still sore from practice, held him up. every thrust was deliberate, realistic, the kind that came from real need after holding it in for days. sometimes he’d go a little deeper, holding for a second when you swallowed around him, then pulling back so you could breathe.

you looked up at him between strokes, eyes watering slightly from the depth, and pulled off just enough to speak. “you’re so big tonight… taking it easy on me?” your voice was husky, a small smile tugging at your wet lips before you licked along the vein on the underside.

he let out a short, tired laugh that turned into a groan when you sucked the head again. “can’t help it. missed you too much.” then he pushed back in, fucking your mouth with a bit more urgency, hips snapping forward in shallow thrusts. the head hit the back of your throat repeatedly, spit dripping down your chin onto the floor. his breathing got heavier, chest rising under the hoodie, but he kept it quiet, biting his lip sometimes to stay silent.

“keep doing that with your tongue,” he whispered, voice strained. you did, swirling it around the head every time he pulled back, tasting the salty precum that leaked steadily now. his thighs trembled a little under the sweats—not from coming, but from the long day finally catching up while pleasure built on top of it. he stayed standing the whole time, tall frame leaning slightly forward, one hand in your hair, the other on the wall.

you hummed around him again, taking him as deep as you could, and he cursed under his breath. “fuck… yeah, just like that, y/n.” his thrusts stayed steady, cock sliding in and out of your mouth, wet and warm. no rush to finish. he was drawing it out, letting the relief wash over him slowly in the safety of his locked room while the rest of the dorm slept.

you pulled off for a breath, hand stroking him firmly while you looked up. 

he looked down at you, eyes half-lidded, sweat starting to bead on his forehead again. “this is perfect. don’t stop.” then he guided your head back down gently and slid back into your mouth, fucking into it with that same controlled rhythm, tall body moving above you, sweats still around his thighs, hoodie still on. the night felt long and private, just the two of you in the quiet room, his tired body finally unwinding through you.

anton’s hips kept rolling forward in that steady rhythm, cock sliding deeper into your mouth with every thrust. his sweats were still bunched around his thick thighs, the fabric brushing your cheek each time he moved. you were on your knees on the wooden floor, hands gripping his legs through the material, jaw aching a little from how thick he was but you kept going, tongue working him as best you could. his breathing had gotten heavier, chest rising fast under the black hoodie, one hand tangled in your hair while the other pressed flat against the wall for balance.

“fuck… y/n, i’m—shit, i’m close,” he whispered, voice cracking. he was trying so hard to stay quiet, but the sounds kept slipping out anyway. low, broken grunts and shaky breaths that he couldn’t hold back. his members were just down the hall—probably sleeping, but the dorm walls were thin. every time he pushed into your throat and you swallowed around him, a helpless little “ah—fuck” escaped through gritted teeth. he bit his lip hard, eyes squeezed shut for a second, but it didn’t stop the quiet moans.

you looked up at him, eyes watery, and hummed around his cock, sucking harder. that did it. his thighs tensed under your hands, muscles jumping. “oh god… yeah, just like that—don’t stop, please,” he breathed, voice getting higher, more desperate. he was vocal, couldn’t help it, the words tumbling out in that tired, needy tone. “your mouth feels so fucking good… i’m gonna—fuck, i’m coming—”

his hips stuttered, pushing deep one last time as he came hard down your throat. hot spurts filled your mouth, thick and salty, and he let out a choked groan that he tried to muffle by pressing his face into his own arm. “ahh—shit, shit, fuck…” the words were muffled but still loud enough that he winced right after, listening for any movement outside. his body shook a little, tall frame leaning heavier against the wall while he kept coming, pulse after pulse. you swallowed as much as you could, some of it slipping from the corner of your lips, but you stayed on him until he was done, sucking gently through the aftershocks.

he was breathing hard, chest heaving, when he finally pulled out slowly. his cock was still half-hard, shiny with spit and come, twitching when the cool air hit it. “holy fuck… sorry, i tried to be quiet,” he whispered, voice hoarse. a small, tired laugh escaped him as he looked down at you, thumb wiping the mess from your chin. “you okay? that was a lot.”

you nodded, swallowing the last of it, voice a little raspy. “yeah… you came so much. felt like you really needed that.”

“i did,” he admitted, still catching his breath. he didn’t let you stay on the floor long. his hands slid under your arms, big palms warm as he guided you up to your feet. at 184cm he towered over you even more now, pulling you close until your back hit the wall beside his desk. the room was small, so the move only took a couple steps. he pressed against you, hoodie still on, sweats pushed down just enough, his body heat radiating through the fabric.

“turn around,” he murmured against your ear, voice low and rough from coming. you did, palms flat on the wall. he tugged your bottoms down quickly, not bothering with anything else, just enough to get access. his hand reached between your legs, fingers sliding through how wet you already were from sucking him. “fuck, you’re soaked… all that just from blowing me?” he sounded half-amused, half-turned on again.

he lined himself up and pushed in slow at first, thick head stretching you open. you gasped, forehead pressing to the cool wall. “anton… big—fuck.” the words came out shaky. he groaned quietly as he sank deeper, hips flush against your ass once he bottomed out. “so tight… always so good for me,” he whispered, starting to move. his thrusts were deep and steady, the kind that made your knees weak. the wall creaked faintly with each push, but he didn’t care anymore, too lost in it.

you came first, faster than you expected. the angle was perfect, his cock hitting that spot inside you over and over while his hand reached around to rub your clit. your legs shook, a broken moan leaving your lips before you could stop it. “i’m—i’m coming, oh god—” your voice cracked, body clenching hard around him. words stopped making sense after that. everything blurred into soft, helpless sounds—whines and gasps that you couldn’t hold back.

anton didn’t let up. he kept fucking you through it, hips snapping harder now, one hand fisting your hair and pulling your head back gently but firmly so your back arched. “that’s it… come on my cock like a good girl,” he breathed right against your ear, voice dark and low. the praise and degradation mixed together in that real, breathless way. “look at you, can’t even speak anymore, huh? all dumb and fucked out just from my dick. so fucking pretty when you’re like this.”

he tugged your hair a little more, not enough to hurt but enough to keep you right there, head tilted back so he could see your face from the side. “yeah? nothing to say now? just taking it like you were made for it.” his thrusts stayed deep, grinding against you every time he bottomed out. “my dumb little slut… so wet, creaming all over me. you love when i use you after practice, don’t you?” the words were filthy but spoken softly, mixed with softer ones right after. “but you’re so good for me… always letting me have you when i need it. fuck, i love this pussy.”

you couldn’t form real sentences anymore. just broken whimpers and moans, forehead sliding against the wall as he fucked you harder. your brain felt hazy, every thrust pushing you further into that floaty, dumb feeling where only pleasure existed. anton kept talking, voice husky and relentless, switching between praise and degradation without missing a beat. “can’t talk? that’s okay, baby. just make those pretty sounds for me. let me hear how stupid i’m making you.”

his free hand gripped your hip, fingers digging in as he drove into you, tall body curved over yours. sweat was beading on his skin again, hoodie sticking to his back. he was vocal the whole time—groans, curses, whispered filth right into your ear. “fuck, you’re squeezing me so tight… gonna make me come again if you keep doing that.” every pull on your hair sent sparks down your spine, keeping you arched and helpless against the wall while he used you exactly how he needed after that long, exhausting day.

the dorm stayed quiet outside, but inside his room the sounds were unmistakable—skin against skin, your muffled moans, his low grunts and dirty words. he didn’t stop, hips rolling deep and steady, dragging it out because he wasn’t ready to be done with you yet. his cock throbbed inside you, thick and relentless, pushing you toward another edge even as your first orgasm still pulsed through your body.

divider @ suupersonic

he had been working nonstop recently, glued to his computer during the time he was actually home, giving you minimal attention. its been a while since the two of you had some real.. fun, and you could not take the neglect any longer—you needed to be handled.

anton was in the bedroom, as always, only to be seen working, occupying his little desk in the corner. you were always free to enter the room if you pleased, you were always respectful and nothing you did ever distracted him to an unbearable point, but when you walked in the room, your intentions were purely impure.

you wore black distressed low rise daisy dukes, and a wine colored halter neckline fitted top that cut off right below your belly button, lace on the cups. the v line was deep, accentuating your cleavage. there’s no reason for you to be wearing such an outfit, but why not doll up a little? plus, he’ll surely get the message.

you walked in the bedroom like you always do, nonchalantly strolling across the room to meet him. he doesn’t look away from his computer, lazily uttering a ‘hey’ when your presence is felt. you linger a bit behind him as he sits in his chair—hands gaining a consciousness of their own, your fingertips meet his broad shoulders, lightly starting to message. he sighs with content as the sound of typing slows, but it’s still ongoing. you move your hands across his chest, leaning in to hug from behind while nuzzling your head into his neck, biting his clothed shoulder softly. he chuckles, finally taking his hands off the keyboard, but you only to be disappointed when he grabs both your hands as they had started to move downwards. “what are you doing” he says playfully, turning in his desk chair, keeping your hands in his.

his eyes immediately dart to your chest when he fully faces you, shamelessly staring and slightly shifting in his seat. he huffs, looking back up to your eyes waiting for a response, tilting his head. “hey” you flirted, leaning close to reach behind him, closing his laptop, keeping eye contact. you lean back, standing straight again, moving your hands to cross your arms. your voice came out sultry, and almost demanding, “i wanna hang out, it’s been a while”. he smiled teasingly, “i have a lot to catch up with” he clarified, but it almost feels like he’s provoking you. you roll your eyes, “you work all the time, whats to catch up with?”, “i don’t work all the time”, “yes you do” your speech coming out whiny, your breath audible through your words, “you’re neglecting me”. he chuckles again, shaking his head, getting up from his seat. his height is noticeably, you look upwards as he puts his hands on each side of your face, placing a kiss on your lips, letting it linger before he breaks it, “have i really been neglecting my baby?” he says with a smug smirk on his face. you bite your lower lip, attempting to hold back your smile, nodding a little too quickly.

you couldn’t help but to lean for another kiss, much more hungry than his. your hands travel up his chest, then to his neck, wrapping your arms around him. he gave in, his hold firm on your hips, battling your tongue for dominance. he stumbles back slightly, reaching the edge of his desk to support himself, then pulling your body flush with his with ease, gaining a lead in the race, devouring your lips as you get more submissive. short breaths and soft moans start to escape you in between kisses—you can start to feel his hardness press against you.

you break the kiss, breathlessly speaking, “can i show you something?” you cajoled flirtatiously. he just stares back at you, watching you lower, knees magnetic to the ground. you never break eye contact as you swiftly unbuckle his belt, the largest grin settling on your face. you couldn’t tell if his eyes were on yours or your breast, but it didn’t matter, the dark lustful look his pupils had already made you soaked.

once you shoved his pants down, you wasted zero time, immediately wrapping your hand around his shaft, gently stroking, darting your tongue to his tip. with only one lick, he lets out a deep sigh, relaxing his shoulders, tilting his head, still looking down at you. you move your tongue to the base, continuously dragging your licks up his length. your movements are purposely slow, leisurely spreading the mix of precum and saliva all over his cock in up and down lines, giving a kiss every time you land on his head. anton’s breath had become extremely heavy, one hand gripping the desk as the other moved to cup the back of your head.

you stop the tease, finally taking the full tip, swirling your tongue around, humming softly. “fuck..” he groans, gripping your hair a little, trying to repress any more force. you squeeze your thighs together before pushing your head all the way down in one swift motion, running your hands up his thighs, blinking the wetness from your vision as the head jabs the back of your throat. his grip tightens at the unexpected rush, strands of hair pulling from your scalp, the painful sensation causing you to hum a moan around him. he lets his head fall back, letting a whimper escape his lips. you slowly pull him out almost completely, just to bash against him again, doing it a few more times, getting your mouth acclimated to the size.

anton couldn’t take the elongated test anymore, pushing his hips forward and back at a faster pace. you started to gag ever so slightly, the sound added to the mix of your moans, making his groans grow louder and his grip more tighter. soon enough, you let him take full control as he pushes your head down for you, using you like a fleshlight, your nose meeting his hip line. drool drips from your mouth, pooling in between your breasts, the sound of slurps and slight gags filling the room all whilst you keep your stare on him. you move your hands away from his thighs to land in between your legs, squeezing your thighs together as hard as you could.

“fuck.. you’re so fucking good y/n..” his gaze meeting yours, weakly trying to keep his eyes open. you can tell he’s peaking, his whimpers becoming uncontrollable while repeatedly whispering your name and swears, so you start to hum against him. it doesn’t take long before he locks his hips, slamming your head down, keeping it still, jabbing the back of your throat, almost completely blocking your airway. you finally close your eyes shut, focusing on relaxing the throat as hot liquid fills your mouth, allowing it to flow down your esophagus, gulping it down as tears roll down your face.

after a minute, he loosens his grip and pulls out. you let out a loud gasp, a trail of cum connecting between his cock and your lips. you quickly catch your breath before launching forward, catching his manhood again to lick him off clean from any evidence. he’s panting uncontrollably, a corner of his lip raising weakly as he watches. you take the hand that gripped on the edge of the desk and move his thumb in a wiping motion against your chin, taking any cum that leaked out and sucking it off his thumb. “god y/n..” he whispers, his voice an octave lower as he moves his other hand from the back of your head to your cheek, petting and messaging it lightly. you take his thumb out with a pop to kiss the back of his hand, “i needed this.. i missed you” your voice coming out quite but hoarse. “i’m sorry” he says, almost inaudible.

i appreciate you for your time, tell me what you think 𐔌՞ ܸ.ˬ.ܸ՞𐦯

anton finally straightens, cheeks already bright red and eyes wide. he stares at you for a second then down at his lap then out through the windshield where nothing is happening at all. “you can’t just ask people that.” he mutters.

you pop a fry into your mouth and shrug. “we’ve seen each other in pull-ups.”

he groans, dragging a hand down his face, ears burning now. “that’s not—that’s not the same thing.”

“it kind of is,” you argue, smiling around your food. “arguably worse.”

he shakes his head, lips pressed together like he’s debating whether to answer or climb out of the car and walk home. for a long moment he says nothing, just fiddles with the lid of his drink, thumb tracing the rim over and over then, “not really—i mean…kind of?”

he winces the second the words leave his mouth like he regrets answering at all. “i mean…it wasn’t…like that.”

you pause mid-chew and turn toward him fully, leaning against the door of the driver's side. “like what?”

he shrugs. “like a thing.” another pause. “it was just…a girl in my gen chem class. she was nice. we hung out a few times. that was kind of it.”

you hum and reach for a few more fries, the salt sticking to your fingers. you don’t know why you asked, you don't normally talk about the intricate details of your romantic lives, far too busy having deep talks about the fear of growing up and the meaning of life in your car at one am in empty fast food parking lots.

“what about you?” he asks after a moment, glancing over at you.

you shake your head slowly. “no,” you say simply.

he blinks. “no?”

“no,” you repeat, reaching for your cherry slush. “college guys have commitment issues. they say they don’t want anything serious and then act surprised when i believe them.” you shrug. 

you contemplate for a second before adding. “still haven’t even had my first kiss.”

anton freezes at your words, a fry halfway to his mouth as he processes your words. “you’re joking,” he finally says.

you snort, taking a sip of your drink “what, i don’t look like someone with zero experience?”

“no,” he says immediately then winces. “i mean…yes…no..?” he exhales hard, dragging a hand through his hair. “i just mean…you? never?”

you laugh, the sound a little too loud, trying to brush off the embarrassment creeping up your neck. “i’m not easy, anton.”

his cheeks are dusted pink all over again. “i didn’t say that,” he says quickly.

you watch him scramble to put together a coherent sentence. “i didn’t mean…i don’t think you get around or anything. i just thought with all the guys who liked you in high school…” he trails off, shaking his head.

you shake your head, smiling despite yourself. “no.”

there’s a long awkward pause. anton’s fingers tighten around his cup then loosens. he swallows so hard you see his adams apple bob and before his brain can catch up with his mouth, the words slip out. “i could teach you?”

the second he realizes what he said, his eyes widen in horror. “i’m sorry. that was weird. forget i said that. i didn’t mean it like that.” he rushes, the pink in his cheeks turning a very dark red. 

you blink then blink again then set down your dirnk. “…okay.”

“okay?” he repeats shocked, eyes snapping to you.

you nod, fingers curling into the hem of your sweater in your lap. suddenly you can’t quite look at him anymore, your gaze fixed somewhere near the dashboard. “yeah…okay.”

you risk a glance at him, heart thudding embarrassingly loud in your chest. “i mean…friends do this, right?”

the second the words leave your mouth, you regret how unsure they sound. anton gulps so hard you actually see it, his adams apple bobbing. “yeah, yeah. friends help each other out” he says nodding a little too fast.

it’s a lie and he knows it. the thought of being this close to you, of crossing that line and pretending it doesn’t mean anything physically hurts him but he nods anyway because if this is the only version of this he’s ever going to get with you, he’ll take it.

you nod stiffly. “cool.”

“we don’t have to. i don’t want you to feel pressured or—”

you cut him off, “i don’t. i trust you.”

he exhales slowly, eyes dropping to your mouth before he can stop himself. he shifts in his seat, turning his body toward you trying to gauge your reaction but you still refuse to look at him. he lifts his left hand and hesitates halfway then settles it back down in his lap. “can i touch you?”

your breath catches. you nod quickly before you can overthink it. “yeah.”

anton reaches for you then, fingers warm as they come to rest at your jaw, his thumb brushing lightly along your cheek. he turns you gently so you’re facing him fully. you gulp as you take him in. he looks breathtaking, his black hair falls over his eyes and his lips are parted slightly.

he leans in slowly, almost as if he’s giving you time to pull away if you want to but you stay planted where you are. your noses brush and he pauses there, breath warm against your lips causing a shiver to run down your spine then he leans in.

your eyes flutter shut when his lips meer yours. the kiss is chaste at first, borderline careful. more of a press than anything else. anton’s breath stutters the moment your lips meet. his thumb stills against your cheek and for a second, neither of you does anything at all.

you’re just there lips touching and hearts racing but then you relax into it, just a little.

it’s the tiniest shift forward and anton responds immediately. he pulls back a fraction, just enough to breathe then leans in again, tilting his head a bit. your hands curl into his shirt without realizing it.

you note his lips are soft and taste like the coke he had been sipping on, you wonder if you taste like cherries. you break the kiss briefly to catch your breath but anton isn’t ready to let you go. his right hand shoots out too, blindly grasping for you. his left hand stays planted on your cheek while the right grips your waist and squeezes.

his lips are clumsy and desperate against you as you meet him with equal fervor, your hands shooting up to grab his shoulders to steady yourself. You really should pull away to catch your breath but there’s something so addicting in the way he kisses you.

you swipe your tongue against his and nip at his swollen, oversensitive lower lip pulling a breathy moan from him that shoots a sense of pride through you. you greedily swallow his moan and trace his bottom lip with your tongue.

anton shifts in the passenger seat and moves his left hand down to the other side of your hip and before you can fully register the movement, he’s pulling you across. the center console presses awkwardly against you as you drift onto his lap and the bag of fries tip over in the process, scattering all over the floor but you don’t care to stop and clean it up.

he kisses you roughly before pulling away, immediately kissing down your jaw to your neck. his teeth graze your skin as he nibbles and sucks and your head falls back, giving him more access. your skin feels as if it's on fire with this new position and how close you two are now.

your fingers slide into his hair without thinking, tugging just enough to make him gasp against your collarbone. he responds by pulling you closer, pressing you flush against him and rolling his hips up once experimentally drawing out a moan from you.

he pulls back to look at you, his lips red and swollen coated in a mix of your saliva. he squeezes your hips once when you try to lean back in and smirks at the pout that unintentionally spreads across your lips. you open your mouth to protest, to ask why he stopped but you’re interrupted by your phone buzzing.

you crane your head to look at where it lies, forgotten in your seat and see your mothers contact flash across the screen. you huff and look at the time; 2:45 am. you curse under your breath as you scramble out of anton's lap.

you glance at him, suddenly shy. “sorry.”

he shakes his head immediately. “don’t be.”

there’s a pause as you quickly respond to your mom letting her know you’re heading back now. “we should probably go,” he says, though there’s no urgency in his voice.

“yeah.” you agree yet you don’t put the car in drive. you spare anton one last look before putting on your seatbelt. “that was…uh…it was good.”

he smirks at your lack of words, shifting in his seat as he adjusts his sweats before humming. “yeah…it was.” he responds, sounding far too pleased with himself.

he peers at you through his lashes, clearly enjoying the way you suddenly can’t meet his gaze. “we should do it again,” he adds casually.

you hum, forcing yourself to sound nonchalant as you finally put the car in drive. “sure.”

anton leans back in his seat satisfied, fingers tapping idly against his thigh as you pull out of the parking lot. he glances over at you once, catching the way you’re gripping the steering wheel just a little tighter than necessary and his smile deepens.

the rest of the decorations have taken over the coffee bar; clear baubles waiting to be filled, ribbon tangled together, markers with their caps already missing and glitter you’re certain will still be turning up months from now no matter how many times you vacuum. maya insisted on buying two trees this year: one for your friends to decorate and one downstairs in the den that was just for the roommates.

you’re pretty sure that by the end of the night you’ll not only be broke but also nursing a headache that no amount of water will fix. 

out of all your roommates you’ve always been the more introverted one. not in the way that makes you shy or withdrawn due to your love of community but in the way that means you know your limits. so when rachael first came up with the idea for a christmas housewarming and maya immediately layered a friendsmas on top of it, you could already foresee how the night would go; you’d make your rounds, say your hellos, engage in small talk with a smile so no one felt brushed off or unwelcome then once your social battery dipped low enough, you’d retreat to your room for a breather before coming back out again.

your roommates however, were having none of it. laya stuck to your side like glue for the first hour, looping her arm through yours and steering you around the apartment, eager to introduce you to her friends. every time you thought you’d found a natural pause to slip away she’d pull you back in and when you finally did manage to sneak off, rachael intercepted you halfway down the hall and immediately redirected you downstairs, insisting she needed help finishing the trivia slides in the den.

by the time you make it back upstairs, your head is starting to throb faintly, the dull ache you’d been expecting settling in behind your eyes. all you want is your bed and five minutes of quiet. maybe twenty.

you’re halfway up the stairs when you feel as though you’re being watched. you glance up, scanning the landing and your stomach tightens when you catch sohee’s eye. instinctively, you look away pretending to search for someone else to talk to, someone else to distract yourself with but you find no one and he takes the opportunity.

“hey,” he says, stepping into your path before you can move past him.

you tense a bit, there’s a brief urge to turn around and retreat back downstairs to disappear behind the second christmas tree but you fight the urge. things with sohee have been…tense. awkward, to put it lightly. the two of you used to be close, so close that you spent the majority of your sophomore year sleeping in his room, stretched out on the bed beside his, limbs tangled in blankets with his roommate, anton.

the name alone sends a shiver down your spine. you haven’t dared to say it out loud in almost a year, not since everything fell apart. whatever you and anton were, it lived somewhere in the space between together and not, undefined yet somehow all-consuming.

you met anton freshman year during orientation. it felt insignificant at first but you would later find out you shared mutual friends (sungchan, iris, jia, wonbin, to name a few). it wasn’t until move-in that your friend groups really merged, some frat was throwing a party off campus and the twelve of you thought it would be a good idea to go. that night started the beginning of the end, as you like to call it now.

that night is one you think about more often than you’d like to admit. drink after drink, bad decision after bad decision until you were sitting on the floor of anton and sohee’s room, head spinning, stomach churning, barely making it to the trash can before everything caught up with you. you woke up in anton’s bed the next morning.

after that you were inseparable. where you went, anton followed. where he ended up, you weren’t far behind. sohee became the unintentional third wheel, pretending not to notice as things began to shift with you and anton, just as the rest of your friends pretended not to notice.

it wasn’t until christmas break that things really amped up.

everyone had gone home for the holidays but you stayed, unable to afford a plane ticket back. anton extended an invite to stay with him and his family, saying they had the means to accommodate you.

you spent the entire break with them. you learned about his dads music career, sat through dinners that stretched late into the night and listened as his mom talked your ear off about anton’s childhood. most nights, you followed him down to his dad’s studio after dinner, watching him try to string together beats and half-written lyrics, content just to be there.

one night during your second week in jersey, his mother took his younger brother to new york to see the tree lighting. that was the night everything crossed a line you never quite came back from. one minute anton was walking you through how to lace a track and the next he was talking you through an orgasam.

what followed was two years of almosts and maybes. late nights, shared beds and stolen moments that never quite turned into something you could name. a situationship that stretched itself thin. sohee clears his throat softly, breaking the silence. “you okay?”

you nod, forcing yourself back into the present. “yeah,” you say, even though your chest feels tight. “i’m fine.”

there’s a beat where neither of you moves then he shifts his weight, glancing past you like he’s suddenly remembered why he’s here. “uh…thanks for the invite by the way.”

you smile automatically. “of course.”

you don’t mention that it was actually laya who invited him. your own guest list had been short: jaeyun from your physics lab, anna from your communications elective and then the three people you and maya had mutually agreed on: sungchan, eunseok and wonbin. anyone beyond that had come courtesy of your roommates. it feels unnecessary to clarify now.

you and sohee stand there, hovering in that uncomfortable space where familiarity used to live. finally, you gesture vaguely toward the tree beside you. “did you make an ornament?”

his face eases a little. “yeah.” he points to one hanging near the middle, a clear bauble with a tiny beanie drawn on it. you laugh before you can stop yourself.

he smiles sheepishly then clears his throat again. “how’ve you been?”

the question catches you off guard. not because it’s outlandish or rude but because of how…simple it is. it’s not like you don’t see sohee or interact with him, in fact you shared a gen ed class with him the past semester, you saw him every tuesday and thursday from 10:00am to 11:15am, odd how he’s so entangled in your life yet so out of the loop.

you shrug. “good. finals are over. just…looking forward to graduating.”

his lips purse like he was expecting more but he nods anyway. maybe he understands that whatever version of your friendship this is now doesn’t come with detailed life updates anymore.

“you?” you ask.

he takes a sip of his beer before answering. “good. same.” then, after a pause, “kinda sad it’s all coming to an end, though.”

you nod. that part, at least, makes sense. you’re just about to find a way to excuse yourself when he speaks again.

“i just wanted to say i’m sorry.”

you blink, completely at a loss. “sorry for what?”

he takes your confusion as permission to continue. “i know it’s been a while but it wouldn’t feel right ending the year without saying it.”

you shake your head, already wanting out of this conversation now that you see where it's heading. “sohee, you don’t have to—”

“i know you blame me for anton moving on and i’m sorry.” he says regardless.

your grip tightens around the hem of your denim skirt and your mouth feels dryer than the sahhara. “please don’t.”

he exhales. “i didn’t think him and olivia would actually start dating. you have to believe me, ____.”

you shake your head fervently, “stop. it doesn’t matter sohee and i don’t blame you. we’re good just…drop it.”

he sighs like he doesn’t quite believe you. “you haven’t talked to me since it happened. that was almost a year ago.”

you shrug, avoiding his eyes. “i’ve been busy.” it’s a weak excuse and you both know it.

he huffs quietly and shakes his head. “for what it’s worth…they broke up.”

your stomach drops.

“and…i know anton misses you. the same way you’ve missed him.”

you open your mouth, ready to deny it. to say something petty, that you’ve moved on and no longer care about the six foot gentle giant but sohee has always been able to see through your lies and bs so you close your mouth instead.

he gives you a small smile. “merry christmas.” then he steps around you, already calling out to shotaro by the eggnog. the hallway feels narrower than it did a minute ago and the lights seem brighter.

anton misses you.

the sentence makes your head spin.

you swallow and exhale slowly then straighten, forcing your shoulders to relax. this is your apartment, your party. you’re hosting. whatever just happened with sohee can wait, you can unpack that at a later date. just then, your phone buzzes in your hand. you glance down grateful for the interruption.

jaeyun: i’m outside but i have no idea which apartment is yours lol

a small smile tugs at your mouth before you can stop it. you respond, informing him its the condo to the right before tucking your phone away and shifting back into host mode without thinking about it. you head toward the front door, weaving past bodies and trash that’s piling up on your kitchen counters.

you get to the door just as there’s a knock, almost on cue. “finally,” you mutter to yourself, already reaching for the handle. you swing the door open with a full smile on your face, ready to hit jaeyun with something sarcastic and playful. “wow, you would thi—” the words die in your throat.

standing before you is anton himself. one hand is wrapped around a gift bag, the other shoved into his coat pocket. his hair is slightly damp from the snow, cheeks pink and eyes wide in a way that tells you he wasn’t expecting this either.

your smile dies on your face so fast it almost embarrasses you. you didn’t know he was invited though it doesn’t shock you that your roommates went behind your back. they always liked anton, they were bummed on your behalf when things ended. what actually shocks you is that he came because anton could’ve ignored the invite, could’ve stayed home. anton could’ve kept doing what he’s been doing for a year, pretending you don’t exist.

for a second, neither of you moves. his throat bobs as he swallows and you see his fingers tighten around the handle of the bag.

“hey,” he says quietly after clearing his throat.

you open your mouth but nothing comes out. footsteps echo on the stairs behind him. “____?

jaeyun appears at the top of the steps, phone still in his hand, scanning until his eyes land on you. his face lights up immediately.

“there you are,” he says. he walks right up to you and wraps you in a hug. “merry christmas,” he says into your hair. you hug him back on autopilot, arms tightening around him because you need something to hold onto.

you stare at anton over jaeyun’s shoulder he holds your gaze and doesn’t look away. you can’t tell what his expression means. you can’t tell if he regrets coming, if he’s relieved, if he’s angry, if he’s nervous. he just stands there.

“okayyy,” a voice sings behind you. you don’t even need to turn to know it’s rachael. she claps her hands once loud and cheerful. “jaeyun! glad you made it, food’s in the kitchen and trivia teams are picking downstairs in like…two minutes.”

maya takes the bottle of prosecco from jaeyun’s hand with a grin. “i’ll save you a spot on my team if you grab me a plate of chips and dip,” she says, already nudging him toward the kitchen. laya turns her attention to anton. “i’m so glad you made it,” she says.

anton nods shyly at layla and clears his throat. layla then says, “let me take that.” she plucks the gift bag from his hand. “secret santa goes under the tree.”

anton hands it over without a word, just a small nod and then laya disappears downstairs to the den with rachael. behind you, maya reappears for half a second, reaching past you to grab anton’s coat off his shoulders. “i’ll hang this up,” she says, already walking away with it then over her shoulder says,“oh! ____, you should show him the ornament station. you’re the only roommate who hasn’t made one yet.”

you hesitate before stepping aside, gesturing vaguely toward the corner where the ornaments are laid out. “it’s…over there.” you step aside to let him fully inside and he pauses at the threshold, glancing down as he slips his shoes off neatly, lining them up by the wall with everyone else's.

you explain the ornament station out of habit and to fill the awkward silence, pointing to the clear baubles and decorations even though it’s obvious. he listens anyway.

you both reach for ornaments at the same time, hands brushing just barely before pulling away. you focus on the ornament in your hands, turning it slowly trying to decide what to draw.

“so,” he starts then stops. clears his throat and tries again. “uh…how was your semester?”

you don’t look up. “busy.”

another pause stretches between you.

“i figured.” he eventually says.

you return the question because it feels like the polite thing to do even though politeness feels flimsy here. he answers briefly, vague enough not to invite follow-ups then you’re both quiet again.

it’s strange, standing this close to someone who once knew you inside and out, someone who spent nights memorizing your body and worshiping the ground you walked on, now reduced to small talk and awkward silences. anton is no longer someone you know. you’re no longer someone he does. pretending otherwise feels pointless.

you sigh quietly as you reach for the pink ribbon. anton notices and reaches for the scissors without a word, cutting it for you before setting them back down. “Here.”

“thanks,” you murmur, still not looking at him.

he nods and glances around your apartment, taking it in properly for the first time. the lights, the tree, the cluttered counters. “your place is really nice.”

you hum your thanks.

it’s strange to realize this is his first time here. most of your friends haven’t even seen the apartment yet; maya and laya had been anal on keeping group hangouts limited until everything was decorated. still, a few people had been by. sungchan and eunseok helped you move in, assembling beds and desks. jia, iris and wonbin came over for game nights. shotaro and seunghan had stopped by more than once, usually just to steal snacks between classes. you’re not even sure anton knew you were moving.

jaeyun emerges from the kitchen just then with a plate in hand, waving as he heads toward the stairs. “i’ll save you a spot on my team, ____,” he calls, already halfway down to the den.

you smile automatically, lifting a hand in response even though he’s already gone. anton watches him disappear then looks back down at his ornament. there’s a beat then hesitantly, “is…are…are you two dating?”

for half a second, you consider being petty, telling him it’s none of his business. maybe even throwing olivia’s name back at him just to see what happens but sohee said they broke up and it’s christmas. the cruelty feels unnecessary.

you shake your head. “just friends.”

anton nods slowly like he’s filing the answer away and before you can stop yourself because maybe you’re not as above pettiness as you thought, the question slips out. “is olivia not coming?”

anton stills. “no. she’s not.”

you glance at him but his eyes are fixed on the ornament in his hands, jaw set like he’s choosing his words carefully. “we broke up,” he adds quietly.

you fight the urge to smirk and try to play dumb. “oh. i’m sorry.” you aren’t, not in the slightest, maybe you need a therapist you think to yourself.

you turn back to your ornament playing around with the ribbon. anton shrugs beside you reaching for another marker, rolling it between his fingers before uncapping it.

“it wasn’t going to last. i…i wasn’t fully in it. i shouldn’t have tried to move on so fast.”

you tie the ribbon once, twice, then a third time for good measure, the knot tighter than it needs to be. it’s not something you want to unpack, him moving on. how blindsided and stupid it made you feel. sure whatever the two of you had wasn't perfect but you hadn’t expected him to just…leave.

no clear boundaries were ever set, you acted like a couple but never officially named it. you would sleep in his bed, borrow his hoodies, let him hold your hand in public but then brush him off when he would ask you to go on a date. it's not that you didn't want to, it’s that you didn't have the time to. you needed to be the perfect friend, student, daughter and more. girlfriend felt like adding too much to your already full plate and anton was willing to take the scraps so it felt easy. 

all you had to do for forgiveness was pout up at him and bat your lashes and he was like putty in your hands already smiling at you and bringing you in for a hug. it wasn't healthy, just how much he was willing to sacrifice for your sake. you knew it, your friends knew it, sohee especially knew it. maybe that's why he took him on the two man. to get anton away from you for a bit to get you to see what you would be losing but instead you built your walls higher and refused to chase him if he was so easily going to trail after olivia.

at first you thought withholding sex would do it but he didn't mind; swimming taught him to have resilience of steel. when you realized that wasn't going to get him to budge you worked yourself into a panic thinking he was already sleeping with olivia, maybe that's why he didn't care anymore.

you quite literally pounced on him after one of his swim meets, he caught your hand when you tried to undo the string of his sweats, said he wasn't in the mood. you deflated instantly and saw yourself out.

to give anton credit, even though he was starting to explore things with olivia, he didn’t disappear. he still hand wrote you notes, still sat with you in the dining hall, still treated you like you mattered.

you think what really broke the camels back was the night wonbin's frat threw a party, anton asked if you two could skip and watch movies in the lounge but you laughed and said no. he reluctantly followed you.

you lost sight of him about thirty minutes into the party as you took shot after shot and began your self destructive tendencies. chris, a super senior at the time (you were a junior) and top dog of the frat invited you to join his game of beer pong, you eagerly joined and before you knew it chris was sneaking off with you to his room.

you barely made it up the stairs before you started making out aggressively. he was already starting to strip you when anton made it up the steps and saw but you didn't push chris away, if anything you played it up for the sake of hurting anton the way he had hurt you with olivia. he didn't say anything just shook his head and left.

you went no contact after that, no real words were exchanged to end whatever it was the two of you had but him hard launching olivia across his socials was enough. you blocked him for a while then unblocked him because the not-knowing was worse but you kept your distance and he kept his. he and olivia would come around to group hangouts and it would be a game of who can avoid who longer, your roomies would heard around you to keep you out of his line of sight or you would hide away in some corner or your room, not wanting to see the couple exist together.

you blink hard and step toward the tree hanging your ornament. “we should probably head downstairs for trivia.”

anton sighs like he had more to say but nods anyway and hangs his ornament beside yours. “yeah.”

When you reach the bottom of the stairs, the den is louder than the rest of the apartment, everyone’s clustered into loose groups, chairs pulled close, people sitting cross-legged on the floor or perched on armrests. you scan the room instinctively and spot jaeyun and anna sitting on the floor near the couch, an empty space between them that you assume was meant for you.

you don’t make it two steps toward it before maya darts past and drops down into the spot, looking up at you with a sheepish grin. “forgive me.”

your brows knit together but before you can question it, rachael grabs your wrist and tugs you toward the back of the room. “we kinda already made teams. you and anton are in team four.”

of course you are.

you glance at the group; three other people you don’t recognize already mid-conversation and feel a familiar flicker of annoyance at your friends’ determination to force interaction where there has been one for a year. you sigh but take one of the foldable chairs anyway. anton hesitates before taking the seat beside you, his knees knocking against yours.

the first few questions go by and you’re stiff, answering only when you’re certain, passing the paper back and forth. anton is the same way, murmuring answers under his breath before writing them down. somewhere around the third round, someone hands you a drink and you take it grateful when you realize its spiked eggnog.

a question about early-2000s pop music comes up and anton answers immediately, barely hesitating. you smile before you can stop yourself, anton meets your gaze and smiles back. another round comes and you reach for the paper at the same time he does and your fingers brush. it’s accidental but it makes your cheeks heat. neither of you says anything. by the time the final question is called, you’re leaning forward in your seat, fully engaged, arguing playfully with one of your teammates while anton scribbles down the last answer.

when the scores are announced your team wins by a landslide.

you’re on your feet cheering and mocking the other teams as the rest of the room groans. “there’s no way you didn’t cheat!”  jaeyun says as he tosses his card.

anton laughs and before you think better of it, you high-five him sticking your tongue at jaeyun. “suck it loser!” you say jokingly. the contact is quick and harmless. it takes a second to register that you willingly touched him but you brush it off and take your seat as layla claps her hands.

“okay! secret santa time!”

people shuffle closer to the tree, some sitting on the floor, others half-standing with drinks still in hand. the gifts are dragged out from underneath the tree and name begin to be called. there’s  some gag gifts wrapped in too much tape, thoughtful ones too. when it’s your turn, jia lights up when you call her name.

you pass her the bag suddenly hyperaware of everyone watching. she digs inside and pulls out the aritzia gift card first then the jellycat, the exact one she’s been talking about for weeks.

“shut up! you’re actually the best.”

you smile relieved as she leans over to hug you. more names are called and more gifts are given out, anton’s comes up not long after. sungchan grins when he hands it over. anton opens it carefully revealing new guitar picks and a strap for his bass. his smile is immediate and he thanks sungchan quietly, ducking his head as a few people tease him about being predictable.

the pile under the tree continues to thin. you shift in your seat, suddenly aware that you haven’t been called yet. you tell yourself not to read into it, someone has to be last. laya crouches down to grab the final bag and checks the tag before handing it over to you.

you pause as you stare at the bag, it's the same one anton was clutching when you opened the door. you look up to catch his gaze, he had moved across the room and is now standing between sohee and suenghan. you take the bag from laya nodding a quick thanks and sit back down with it in your lap.

it’s heavier than you expect. you hesitate for half a second, fingers tightening around the handles. then you open it. the first thing you see is a velvet box, you hesitate but open it to find a gold chain sitting in the box, at the center rests a butterfly. your heart stutters as you brush against it, he used to call you his pretty butterfly.

you open the next gift, a glass jar filled with a bunch of different colored swans. you unscrew the lid, aware of how quiet the room has gotten and pull one out. you unfold it carefully, smoothing the crease with your thumb. written in anton’s neatest writing is a list of things he loves about you.

you fold the swan back up and place it back in the jar shutting it promptly. you peek into the bag to see if there’s anything you missed and at the bottom of the bag find a gift card to tatte. the expensive café you used to go to freshman year when neither of you could really afford it. you’d sit there for hours with one pastry between you joking that one day when you had your own place, you’d buy boxes of croissants and lay them out like you baked them yourself.

he remembered.

you clear your throat suddenly very aware of the room again. “thank you.” you say. anton nods once like he's relieved you didn’t hand it back.

laya claps her hands breaking the moment. “okay! card games are starting soon. now’s a good time for bathroom breaks or snack runs!”

the room stirs immediately. people stand, stretch and start talking over one another again. you take the opportunity to leave unnoticed upstairs to your room. you don't notice anton trailing behind you until you make it to your room and he stops outside the door, waiting for the invite to invade your space.

you mull over the idea for a second before stepping aside and letting him in. you set the gifts down on your desk and stand there watching him take in your new bedroom. you have new sheets; new taste, new preferences he isn’t privy to anymore. you clear your throat. "um..thanks. for the gifts."

he nods but doesn't address it, it's clear that's not what he wants to talk about. you scratch at your eyebrow trying to work through your emotions in real time but anton beats you to it.

“i miss you.”

your heart breaks at the confirmation. “we weren’t good for each other.” you say deflecting.

he shakes his head and walks closer. “no, you were selfish.”

you fight the urge to roll your eyes, your defenses rising because you hate that he's right. before you can argue he cuts you off.

“so was i. i knew i wanted more but settled for less for the sake of keeping you around. i tried to move on with olivia knowing i could never love her the way i love you.”

that knocks the wind out of you.

he walks even closer stopping right in front of you. “baby please...talk to me.”

you swallow hard, the pet name chipping away at your walls. your instinct is to step back but instead you stay where you are, toes rooted to your rug, arms crossing loosely over your chest. “anton,” you say quietly, warning more than anything.

he lifts a finger beneath your chin tilting your face up until you have no choice but to meet his eyes. “don’t you miss me too?”

you whimper at how unfair he's being, of course you miss him but you can't forget how easy it was for him to just walk away. his other hand comes up to play with the hair at the nape of your neck and tug your closer. you sigh as his scent invades your senses and nod weakly. "yeah.." you say as his hand dips down to your waist.

"let’s start over baby, for real this time." he says softly, planting a soft kiss to your cheek then your chin then hovering over your lips. you sigh wistfully in response wanting nothing more. "but...olivia." you say softly, tilting your head and angling it in a way that causes your lips to brush against anton’s.

anton pauses and pulls back, he frowns. "that's over, i swear. i told her i still had feelings for you." he smooths the hem of your skirt without thinking then adds, "it's always been you."

you nod, that’s all you needed to hear. you lean in closing the space between you but he pulls back at the last second, a smug grin tugging at his mouth.

“say it.”

you blink. “anton—”

“c’mon,” he says, holding your hands before you can push him away. “i need to hear it too.”

that gives you pause, when the two of you were...together. anton was the one constantly reassuring you, the one going above and beyond to make you feel secure in a title you didn't own nor deserve. it’s only fair he asks for it now.

you pout at yourself before saying, “i'm sorry. i shouldn't have taken you for granted.” you clear your throat and continue. “"if...if you really want to try again i'll be more attentive to your needs.”

he smiles at your words and leans in placing his lips against yours. you part your lips slightly, letting him deepen the kiss. his tongue brushes against yours and a quiet whimper escapes your

throat, the sound swallowed by his kiss. anton's grip tightens, one hand sliding down to your waist as he pulls you impossibly closer.

without breaking the kiss, his hands slide under your thighs to lift you effortlessly. a gasp escapes you, muffled against his mouth as your arms wrap instinctively around his neck. he carries you over to your bed before dropping you and pulling away. "can i show you how much i missed you?"

anton is aware you love when he wears sweats, gray sweats specifically. your eyes never lie when they trail below his waistline, staring at him as if you haven't had a meal in days. he loves seeing that look in your eyes, being extra needy for him just because of what he wears. he does it to rile you up on purpose—also makes his life a lot easier.

so it's no surprise to him that you couldn't keep your eyes on his face while he was talking to you about some random youtube video he found interesting. he was rambling on and on for about five minutes now before you started hearing his words clump together, the only thing in your mind was how delicious he looked.

the thing about anton is he loves to provoke you. you're so easy to fall into his trap, but he's just as easy. he gets you all worked up but could barely last a few minutes. he doesn't know if it's a curse or a blessing. he just knows how much he loves the way you take control after he has already started.

"are you even listening to me?" anton pretended to sigh from across the couch.

"hmmm" you hummed, your eyes catching his.

a small pout crept up onto anton's face before he let out a laugh. he was laughing because he knew how easy you were.

"come here," he patted his thigh, re-adjusting himself into the couch more comfortably as he grabbed your wrist, guiding you to sit on top of him. his hips moved up slightly to meet yours already so desperate.

"i thought you'd never shut up about that damn video," you placed your hands over his chest feeling the vibrations of his laugh.

"was it really that boring to you? i found it interesting." his hands grabbed your wrists, removing them from his chest and pulling you closer.

"but this is more interesting isn't it?" you whispered against his lips, your eyes now looking straight into his.

anton let his lips fall into yours desperately, just the way he wanted. his hand finding its way under your shirt and towards the middle of your back pushing you into him. the feeling of his palms slightly moist from how badly he wanted you to break for him.

the kiss grew more hungry the second your hands tugged at his long hair, softly pulling his head back so that you could gain more access to his mouth. your tongue pushing its way past his lips, letting the kiss get messy with your spit slowly trickling down his bottom lip.

anton whimpered, finding any way to possibly feel you more. his right hand that was under your shirt moved up to your shoulder, his left hand firm on your hip, he wasted no time pushing you down onto his growing hard on.

"please baby..." he moans into your mouth. he's quick to push your hips back and forth desperately craving the friction.

you do as you're told. you find a steady pace where his clothed dick is hitting your clit in all the right places. your kisses getting interrupted as you focus on the growing pleasure in your panties.

anton takes that as a sign to attack your open neck, placing open mouthed kisses along your jawline and down your neck. he takes his time, making sure to lick every part of you. his hand moves up to pull your shirt off your shoulder carefully exposing your collarbone. as he moves down, your hands fly to the back of you, placing your hands on his knees for more stability.

you throw your head back in pleasure, never stopping your desperate grinding against his painfully hard dick.

anton moves away for a moment, taking in the scene unfolding in front of him. his dick twitching as he holds your shirt off your shoulder, watching the way you get off on him fully clothed. he manspreads wider, pushing your legs open so that he could feel your pussy fully open against him. the heat quickly spreading across his whole dick.

"antonnnn..." your voice catches in the back of your throat. he knows you want to be touched.

"keep going, i got you baby," he moves his head back down to your neck, kissing exactly where he can feel you gulping. he lets his kisses travel to your collarbones, his tongue swirling through every crevice. the cold air hitting the spots where he previously kissed, causing your nipples to poke through your shirt.

"i'm close, pleaseeee" anton whined into your neck, his kisses slowly turning into just spit running down your chest from his tongue desperately lapping your collarbone.

anton noticed your hips faltering, wasting no time, he pushed his hand down your shorts, placing himself between where your two bodies met. he mumbled something desperate under his breath that you didn't quite catch along "fuck" being moaned repeatedly by him.

that was enough to throw you off the edge. your wet pussy easily grinding and sliding against his fingers while your clit hit his firm palm as he held his hand angled towards you.

anton's lips found your mouth again, wet and hot, catching your moans in his mouth while you came on his hand. he's soon to follow after feeling you twitch against him, the pressure from his knuckles and your hips slowing down has him shooting cum into his sweats in seconds. anton's head moves to your ear, holding you as close as possible, his whimpers almost sounding like desperate cries as your hips come to a stop, leaving the last bit of cum to drip out of him.

Anton shuffled behind Sohee through the study area of the library. Separate from the computer lab on the other side of the floor and pods for group work upstairs, it was the common silent area. The library was old and grandiose; the ceilings went up high and arched with windows so the natural light could shine through. 

The pair weaved through the long wooden tables where people sat sparsely, focusing on their work or pretending to do so. Anton saw people shopping on their laptops, switching attention from their phone propped on the screen and their work. He followed Sohee past the long tables, because his friend hated when it would get packed and people would sit by them. They went to the circular tables in the dusty abandoned corner of the library. They both took their seats, leaving one between them. There were two other seats, a guaranteed table to themselves unless the library got too packed. They both silently cleared off the table of the crumbs from snacks and rings of condensation from cold beverages.

Sohee sat down first. Anton took off his green bomber jacket and hung it on the back of his chair. He kept his gray zip-up hoodie on, remembering the draft that would come through each time someone opened the doors. 

“What are you working on?” he asked Sohee.

Sohee was already settled, putting on his wired headphones and opening his laptop. 

“Rewatching an old lecture,” he answered. Anton watched the blue light illuminate his friend’s face as he narrowed his eyes. He spoke quietly, chewing on his bottom lip as he focused to find what he was looking for. “What about you?”

Before Anton could answer, Sohee pressed play on the lecture. With the audio jack not fully in the socket and his volume all the way up, it played loudly in the only silent zone of the library. Sohee’s Organic Chemistry professor introduced herself to everyone, bringing all the attention to their secluded corner. The video was also going twice the speed, making her voice high-pitched. Anton ducked his head immediately. Sohee kept panicked eyes on his computer, plugging in the audio jack all the way and pausing the video at the same time. 

“Please don’t embarrass me,” Anton groaned.

“It was an accident!” Sohee said quietly.

Anton did a quick canvas of the area. Everyone in the library went back to focusing, a few were broken out of their stupor and left to loiter in a different spot on campus. Anton looked up to the stained glass windows to feign indifference, then went back down to the rest of the library.

Anton caught the eye of a group of girls sitting at a circular table they did not pass on the way there. They were all looking at him, alternating between pretending not to stare and talking amongst themselves in low voices. 

Sohee eventually caught their eyes, he was looking over the top of his computer before shrinking into his chair further.

Anton didn’t comfort his friend by telling them they didn’t care about the abrupt sound of his computer. Maybe it brought their eyes to the table—because Anton knew him and Sohee blended in and never grabbed attention—but Anton knew that he was the reason they did not look away. 

He recognized them quick. Their names were currently slipping him, but he knew their faces.

The girl that hid her face in her hands was the first one Anton met last semester. She sat in the back of the Romantic Literature class because she didn’t know anyone. Anton remembered seeing her annoyed face when she realized he took the innocuous spot in the back row that would never garner the attention of the teacher. He purposefully came to class early to secure the same spot again, and sheepishly asked her if she wanted to sit there when he caught her eye. The first break in class she leaned over and asked his name. He played with his pencil when he quietly said Anton, and made sure to smile back when she repeated his name to him. 

Over the course of a week the amount of seats separating them got smaller and smaller, until she sat beside him one day to ask for help on an assignment. Anton found out that she was a new pledge at a sorority on campus, and she was upset that her work study kept her from being in the same class as her sisters. She told him that she was cursed, because the early morning classes forced her to go back to an empty sorority house in the afternoon. She repeated that it was so lonely before she asked Anton if he had ever been in a sorority house before.

When it was just the two of them working at the large dinner table the girl told Anton she thought he was cute. She thanked him for the good seat because the professor never called on her and thanked him for giving up the answers to their assignments so easily. Anton was nodding his head without making eye contact but had her bent over the communal dinner table less than ten minutes later, looking at the Greek letters embroidered over the ass of her blue velour track pants. He ran his fingers over the stitching before he was pushing them down her legs. 

Anton proved to not judge a book by a cover so well that fateful early afternoon that she told her sorority sisters about him. Anton spent the next month playing his game with an entire sorority. He was passed between rooms of the house, coming in the midday for the top bunk and then after his night classes he was there for the bottom bunk. He was passed off at house dinners like a baton, pulled away to dark secluded corners during their socials. By the end of the month Anton could barely walk and had lipstick marks on the collars of almost all his shirts. 

He had played the same game with all of the girls. He came over under the pretense of helping with an assignment if they shared a class, or the girls would approach him poorly hiding their true intentions. Bumping into him while he had his head ducked walking to class, coming up to him in the dining hall when he was by himself. Each time Anton let himself get red in the face, fake hesitating before agreeing and pretending to be surprised when he was lead back to the same house. 

Anton saw the same manicured nails dragging against his skin, teasing him before they realized he was fully capable and lips that pressed into a straight line when they realized what their sorority sisters were saying was the truth. He was sure even if he was the topic of discussion a few of them stretched the truth. But Anton kept up appearances each time he left the sorority. He was covered head to toe, apologizing profusely if he ran into any of the girls in the house. Sometimes the girls walked him out on shaking legs, giving him a bye Anton in a saccharine tone, like he didn’t have a hand clamped over their mouth to muffle the volume in private. 

Even now they treated him like he was a shy spectacle, one of them waving to him playfully before the rest of them smirked. He knew the game. Anton looked around and waved to them before going further into his jacket to look flustered. 

Sohee was peering from the side of his computer to see what was happening. All of the girls were waving back before going back to work, giggling and talking lowly amongst themselves. When Anton felt like they were looking again he ducked his head, appearing shy and angling his back so they couldn’t see his smile.

He looked up at Sohee a moment later to see his friend looking at him in disgust. He shook his head before going back to his screen.

“You are a disgusting perverted freak,” he said.

Anton made a point to not tell Sohee about his conquests. His roommate was consistently the most horrified of his friends when hearing about his stories. Anton thinks it’s because he’s been going steady with the same girl since highschool and is permanently traumatized from the STD portion of Sex Education class he was forced to take in junior high. He tried telling Sohee that he always uses protection and he’s not fucking every single girl he meets. His friend never wanted to hear it, plugging his ears and shaking his head anytime he’d try to start.

When all the girls got up and left, Sohee casted one more glance towards the table. When he realized they were gone he pushed his headphones off his head, looking at Anton.

“Did you have sex with all of them?” Sohee asked quietly.

Anton shook his head. He wasn’t convincing enough because Sohee put his headphones back on and went back to his work.

Anton watched his friend go without saying a word for only a minute before he leaned in close again.

“You’re someone’s future husband, Anton.” Sohee typed on his computer, barely paying him any mind as Anton moved a seat closer. “I think you should really start acting like it.”

“Who says I’m not preparing for my future wife?” he asks. Sohee gives Anton a pointed look but he remains neutral. “God forbid I want to take care of every girl that comes across my path.”

Sohee scoffs, still watching the video. Anton lets it sit in the air for a minute. He swears he can feel the attention back on him from the table filled with the sorority girls. He leans across the empty chair between them to get closer to Sohee.

“Why are you scoffing?” he asks teasingly. “I have more experience than you.”

“If you call haphazardly slinging dick around campus experience then yeah. You got me there,” Sohee says.

Anton knows that his philosophy is lost on his friend. He could sit here all day and explain that he’s teaching girls on campus to not judge books by their covers, that he’s working hard to close the orgasm gap between men and women, and he’s preparing himself for his future girlfriend. He knows Sohee won’t understand because he thinks Anton is actually fucking every single girl he encounters, despite him saying that’s not the case. 

“I’m not about to debate hoe politics with you. If you wanna be a gigolo go ahead,” Sohee says.

Anton can barely respond as he still feels a piercing gaze from the table. He rubs the back of his neck, still giving Sohee a fake smile just because it pisses him off.

“I’m not a gigolo,” Anton clarifies, putting a hand on his chest. He splays his fingers over his heart. “I’m a sweetheart.”

“You’re a lascivious pest and sex deviant,” Sohee says.

Sohee’s deadpan gives Anton a perfect opening to laugh and look towards the stare he still feels. He veils his quick look around of the library as benevolence, he even messes with his ear to give him more of a reason to turn his head towards the presence. 

Anton stops in the middle of his investigation when he sees you. You’re sitting at the long table where the sorority girls had you previously covered up. You sat alone and in the middle. You stare right at Anton. It’s the most serious he’s ever seen you, eyebrows narrowed and your lips pulled to a slight frown. Anton has never seen you look so intense, he even looks behind him to double check he’s the one you’re looking at. When he realizes nothing’s behind him except rows of shelves and windows he knows the look is just for him. Your gaze is unfaltering, it almost feels like you’re looking right through him.

He’s shocked because he hasn’t seen you lately. Anton hasn’t seen you lately. Not in the context he used to. There hasn’t been partner work happening in your class. You haven’t talked to him because you haven’t had to. He has caught your eye, glaring and incessant like it is now. He’s sure you don’t even know how obvious your stare is, because he has looked towards you and you jerk your head away a beat too late. You do the same thing now. Anton makes eye contact with you and you look down at the wooden desk, trying to look inconspicuous while messing with your hands.

You don’t have the books you clutched close to your chest or the backpack you went nowhere without. Anton wasn’t sure how long you’ve been there, or why you have no work in front of you. You look like you just threw a sweater on, your hair covered by the hood you pulled tight over it. Anton thinks you resemble the mess in your room when he came over that day.  

Then after a moment he saw you abruptly stand up, causing your chair to slide loudly against the floor. You garner attention but you’re moving out of the room fast, stuffing your hands in your pockets while heading towards the exit.

“Do you want a snack?” Anton asks, pulling his jacket from the back of his seat and slipping his phone into his pocket. “I’ll go get us snacks.”

Anton thinks he hears Sohee say something but he’s focused on your back. Anton was nearly bumping into tables and people to try and follow you. The only way he was able to catch you was when you opened the large double doors, using your momentum and body weight to get them to open. 

He was able to catch you then, carding through the creaky doors as they came to a close. He hit his shoulder but was more concerned with reaching for you. He knew you couldn’t hear him behind you because you jumped slightly when Anton gently touched you. Your speed faltered, and he took it as his chance to pull you by the sleeve into the secluded area with all of the vending machines.

He knows he’s sick. He’s breathing a little heavier from the chase and you’re taking in breaths the same way it did in your room. He gets excited by the surprise on your face and the clear fact that you don’t know what to do next. Anton purposefully holds onto you in the secluded room until you look down as his hand. He takes it away quick.

He lets the silence hang heavy, until you start shifting from foot to foot. He sees you avoiding eye contact, but when he catches it again he tilts his head to the side to try and be eye-level with you.

“You’ve been avoiding me,” he says gently.

He lets his eyebrows furrow in confusion and stuffs his hands into his pockets. He closes in on himself, slouching more and hanging his shoulders. He sees you part your lips. Anton makes himself look even sadder, pouting ever so slightly when you still say nothing.

“What are you doing here?” Anton asks.

You’re silent. Anton sees your hands stuffed into your pockets, he can tell that you’re picking at your fingers by the movement. 

“Are you mad at me?” he continues.

He knew you were upset to some degree. He has been in this situation before. Girls tended to catch feelings, annoyed by his lack of response after everything. Despite feeling like he wanted to continue playing with you in that moment he treated you the same way, slipping back into the innocent and oblivious act after you came all over his hand. He kissed you a few times and was adamant about receiving nothing from you. He slipped away after a few minutes of domestic bliss, using his alarm for his next class as an excuse. Right before he closed your door he saw you prop yourself up by your hands on your bed, legs hanging over the edge and your pants haphazardly pulled up half of the way.

You hadn’t talked to him since then. He had figured you were going to avoid him and he’d avoid you as part of his facade, of course. He’s grateful that you caught him in the perfect setting. He can’t believe you found him studying in a dusty library with only one friend. He was wearing his thick frames today too, in baggy clothes that made him seem small. He thinks his voice even cracked because he asked you so quietly if you were mad at him. He was dejected, he was pitiful and ready to beg for forgiveness. He came closer until you had to look up at him. He finally put his hand in your own pocket, squeezing tight even if it was stiff in his grasp.

“I didn’t know what to do,” he added.

He’s a gentle giant. Even if he can’t say that he’s sorry because he doesn’t feel bad for anything. He’s just someone who just wanted you to feel good. He didn’t know any better. He thought leaving your dorm after was the best choice. He’s not the asshole you claimed he was in class despite finding amusement in the way you act around him now. 

“You fingered me then just left,” you say.

Anton nods sympathetically. Your voice came out quieter than his.

“I just wanted you to feel good,” he says gently. He’s still holding your hand in the pocket of your sweater, and he’s gotten so close you’re forced to look up at him. “I didn’t want to overwhelm you.”

He’s not entirely sure if he’s telling the truth or not. He knows he could’ve kept going and that you wanted him to, but he thinks he was telling himself that he had already proved himself. He was sure you had enough to tell your other nerd friends about the experience. He was selfishly thinking in the moment that he should only go after nerds in hopes of evoking the same reactions that he got from you. 

But he realized that was in direct contention with his current philosophy of teaching girls that he is more than capable. He didn’t want to overindulge himself in you because he’s not sure if he’d ever be able to go back. Ever since you he hasn’t been with anyone. The memory of you squirming underneath him and avoiding eye contact while pitifully asking for more has plagued his mind; he hasn’t been in the correct mindset to be with another girl. 

Sohee talking about his highschool sweetheart crosses Anton’s mind. He has talked about how he doesn’t care about other girls or “proving himself” because he just wanted to be the man she wanted. Anton thinks about you looking up at him, silently begging for something you can’t bring yourself to articulate. You just start squeezing his hands back, trying to mimic that amount of force that he holds you with.

“I wouldn’t be overwhelmed,” you say.

He knows you would be. He knows that you know you would be. Your words are anything but convincing, like your vice grip on his hand is supposed to sway him in some way.

“I’m done with classes for the rest of the day,” you say. “I’m still in the same dorm.”

Before Anton can say he’s grateful you haven’t moved in the past week you detach your hand from his and start heading towards the exit. Anton is left in the room with the fluorescent vending machines before you pause right before leaving. You interrupt the flow of traffic for only a moment before Anton sees you turn around and walk towards him again. This time it’s you who comes in too close, forcing Anton to lean back.

“And I’m behind on coursework. So I need your help.”

You have never asked him for help on your assignments. If anything he’s seen you stay for office hours or ask the teacher assistant. Anton has never seen you ask for help so abruptly, and he doesn’t think he’s ever seen you in loungewear. He can’t give you a reply before you’re shuffling out of the library with all of the other students.

After you left Anton was quick to leave himself. He told Sohee something came up, to which his friend covered his ears and shook his head vigorously. Anton thought about telling Sohee he was going to double back—which is something he has never done before—but he didn’t have time to waste. Knowing that you were waiting for him put a pep in Anton’s step. He wasn’t under a time constraint, no classes or work study was getting in the way of your schedules. Despite this, Anton was speeding through campus. He even took a shortcut and went through the emergency staircase to get to you faster. 

He can’t believe he’s in the same situation with you again; he knocked the same and even waited in the entryway awkwardly before you beckoned him in the rest of the way. 

You tried to be more controlling of the space. Even before he made a move on you the first time you seemed unsure to have him in your dorm. Your bed was made now. All your books and papers were put away neatly, everything about your room screamed that you knew someone would be coming over. Instead of sitting at your desk you lean against your made bed, hands behind you and holding onto the edge of the mattress. 

Anton kicks off his shoes but stays by the closed door. He holds his backpack by one strap, teetering from side to side while looking around. 

“You don’t need help with any assignments?” he asks.

He’s curious how you know about all the unsaid rules of him coming over. You said you needed help with work in the library, you’re wearing clothes that are loose and easy to take off. The demeanor you try to give off is even reminiscent of all the other encounters he’s had with girls on campus. 

But Anton knows he has a role to play and will always do it. When you sheepishly shake your head he looks down, nodding slightly.

Anton puts his backpack on your chair, he takes off his bomber jacket to hang on the back of it. You don’t take your eyes off of him, he moves even slower across your room. He comes closer and closer to you. He sees you grip the edge of your mattress, leaning against it as much as you can while standing upright. When he could just reach out and touch you he stops, letting his eyes get big and worried.

“You’re sure?” he asks. 

You nod. Anton remembers that you didn’t speak last time. He had to pull words out of you by almost begging you for an answer. He likes this though, getting closer to you and seeing you panic. 

“You already did the discussion post and everything?” he continues.

You nod again. He remembers why he wanted to continue playing with you last time. Your eyes are already looking wet again, unblinking and wide. 

“Wow,” Anton drops his jaw slightly and gets closer to you. He can feel you tense up. You look up to him almost panicked, he takes up so much of you without even coming close to you yet. “You’re so smart,” he praises.

Anton didn’t even have to lay out a trap for you. You came to him when he was least expecting it, and you brought him to your room under the pretense of dong something. He couldn’t have prayed for a better outcome.

“You know I tutor people for extra cash, sometimes,” you say.

Anton stops in the middle of closing the distance. He sees that you’re only looking at his lips instead of his eyes. You speak quickly like you did the first time he was here, saying whatever comes to your mind to distract yourself. He can feel puffs of air from your words against his lips. He lets your lips move so close to his. He comes even closer because you try to ignore it.

“There’s a sorority that’s really nice to me sometimes. They gossip with me and tell me things. Sometimes.”

You repeating words tells Anton you don’t fully believe yourself. He knows it’s hard to see genuine kindness in the actions of girls that are pretty and popular and in Greek life. He’s sure there’s a part of you that sees their kindness as cunning malice. Still though, he smiles and tilts his head, a hand going to your waist. He can feel you jump and the warmth from your body bleeds through your clothes. 

“Yeah?” he asks.

He sees you nod absentmindedly, before your hand slowly goes over his on your hip. He can feel the slightest tremor in your hand before you hold onto him tight.

“How long have you been tutoring them?” he asks.

Anton doesn’t think you brought up him fucking the sorority you tutor to best him; he thinks you said it because you seem to be unfiltered, especially in moments of high tension. He was about to kiss you so you blurted out the first thing that came to your mind. You can’t help it, evident in the way you speak first and react to your words a beat later. His question was followed by your eyebrows raising and he realized in that moment you almost didn’t suspect him to put everything together so fast.

“Since the beginning of last semester,” you answer.

Anton immediately nods his head sympathetically. He knows you must’ve suffered, knowing what you’ve known about him for so long and not being able to do anything about it. He imagines you sitting at the communal dinner table in the sorority, eyes wide and jaw slack as one of the girls told you about him. He thinks about you thinking about him, having the visuals of what he would do to them. He doesn’t think they’d lie to you. They had no reason to perform for you like they did with their sorority sisters, to lie and make it seem like they were throwing the shy nerd a bone. They probably told you in great detail to serve as a motivational story, or to prove to you that they don’t judge introverted people like you as harshly anymore. They probably didn’t hold back because they saw you as something that was sexless. They probably explained in great detail because they thought—maybe subconsciously, maybe outwardly—that it would never happen to you.

When you duck your head after giving your answer Anton puts a finger underneath your chin. You give easily to the small amount of force, tilting your head up until you both make eye contact.

“It’s okay.” Anton coos.

He knows you must’ve had conflicting feelings about him. He can’t even be blame you for calling him an asshole; he hasn’t shown you how much of a sweetheart he truly is.

Anton goes from just one finger to a full hand holding your face. He brings you in fully, pressing his lips to yours. 

He’s unmoving at first, just to feel you guess on how to kiss him back. When your lips move awkwardly against his, he watches you close your eyes in a daze. You go through the motions, trying to employ human instinct or what you’ve seen in the movies. He smirks against your clueless lips before bringing a hand to close around the side of your face. He tilts your head up a little further and his hand on your hip wraps around your waist. He brings you closer, trying to suppress the smile from your inexperienced lips. 

He slows down waiting for you to catch along. But he can’t help himself; the moment you catch on he unzips your jacket just so you lose your tempo again. He pushes your jacket off of your shoulders and you let it fall right off, going to the ground in a heap. You’re wearing an oversized shirt but he can see your perked nipples through the shirt.

“Wow,” Anton whispers when he pulls away from your lips.

He puts too much attention on you, because you bring your arms together in an attempt to cover yourself up. What you do only pushes your chest together, making them come out even more. Anton doesn’t know why your missteps turn him on. You’re clumsy, you’re copying what girls told you to get in this situation with him. 

“Why are you smiling?” you ask.

Anton sees your swollen lips in a slight pout. They’re glossy from spit, and you’re still catching your breath from him kissing you earlier. He touches your hot cheek with his thumb, caressing your soft skin.

“I’m just so happy,” he answers.

Anton reaches his hand to the bottom of your shirt and lifts. You stick your arms towards the ceiling, and Anton pulls your shirt over your head. He revels in the quick sight of your chest exposed but your face covered by your shirt. He imagines how nervous you must be behind the fabric. Last time it was in the heat of the moment where you lifted your shirt up. Anton undresses you slowly before doing anything else. He wanted to play with you, and he wanted to take his time. He thinks he told Sohee to not wait up for him tonight. He’s grateful you’re diligent and have all your classes in the morning and you live alone.

He finally takes your shirt off and lets it fall to the ground. Your hands clasp at your sides, and he can see you hesitate before bringing a slow hand up to your chest. Anton is quick to put a gentle hand around your wrist.

“You don’t have to hide from me,” he says gently.

He thinks that he’ll never get enough of you. When he’s been with other girls he was chasing after the peak when they’d realize he was more than capable. He liked seeing their eyes get wide, how they’d hesitate and realize they were no longer throwing the nerd a bone. With you it was constant, you knew you were in over your head from the start. He wants to keep building on that until you reach a breaking point, he wants you to also get comfortable. He knows there has to be something lurking underneath your own facade, because you’ve been grinding on the thigh he pushed between your legs despite you trying to hide your chest from him. You even went as far to rest some of your body weight on his leg, and he swears he saw your other hand pushing at the waistband of your joggers. Anton pulls his leg away slightly just to feel your legs squeeze around his thigh to try and keep him in place.

“Can I, please?” he asks.

Anton doesn’t ask directly. He just lets his hands drag up your bare torso, ending at the underside of your breast. He knows you feel his warm fingers press into your ribcage slightly.

“You…you wanna touch my boobs?” you ask.

Anton’s eyebrows raise at your attempt to sound sultry. He wonders if the pretty girls in the sorority told you how to talk to him to try and command the room. Anton is almost amazed you managed to keep partial eye-contact while saying it, eyes focused on the tip of his nose. He’s bashful when he nods, like he’s been caught doing something he wasn’t supposed to want. But you grab his wrists and chew on your lips at the same time, bringing both of his hands to your chest.

Anton reaches forward to cup your chest. His hand superimposes the skin, and he gropes you just to feel you spill between the cracks in his fingers. He kneads the skin and looks down at you looking down at his hands. He sees your body malleable to the force, leaning back and forth as he takes in more of you. He presses your tits flat to your chest, he runs his thumbs over your sensitive nipples. Everything he does illicits a reaction from you. He notices when he pinches your nipple your hand starts pushing at your waistband again, trying to take down your pants and underwear in one go.

Anton lets you. He even helps by taking away from your chest to pull your waistband down from the other side. 

You’re completely bare except for a pair of black ankle socks. You’re wearing nearly nothing while he’s fully clothed and you don’t even seem to notice it. Almost immediately you’re putting your weight back on Anton’s thigh, and you’re puckering your lips to awkwardly kiss him again. He can feel himself feeding off of how exposed you are while he is fully clothed. You get enough nerve to wrap your arms around his body, but he’s feeling like he could swallow you whole. He feels your bare chest press into his, your tits flattening against him when they meet the hard surface. You press a kiss to his chin instead of his lips because your eyes are closed. He’s never had so much fun in his life.

Anton pushes his tongue in your mouth and leans into you, trapping you between him and the mattress. His body weight pushes a whimper out of you, and it goes right into his mouth. He thinks you’re leaving a mark on his denim from how wet you are. He wonders if he could keep you like this, kissing you and letting you grind on him with no rhythm until you cum. He could get you off without taking off a piece of clothing. Maybe you would catch him in the cafeteria next time and get all hot in the face talking about how he left you all hot and bothered and naked. He thinks about how much he’d have to give you for you to continue chasing after him around campus.

You push your own tongue into his mouth, not enough but then too much. Anton can feel the wet muscle run over his teeth then his lips, then you’re pulling away to catch your breath. Anton has to grip the bed with one hand to keep you steady, and he can feel your hold on him tighten. You almost instantly retreat your face into his neck, he can hear your breathy moans right in his ear as your hips become more erratic. You’re making the same sounds you made when he fingered you. He knows you’re close, you’re about to cum all over his jeans without even seeing all of him.

“How do you want it?” he asks right into your ear. 

Anton has never been the type to verbally ask. Usually the girls would tell him what they wanted, or they’d silently fall into place like they’d done before. He asks you because he knows you’re not sure, and he asks because if he doesn’t get a specific answer he thinks he’d fuck you everywhere in this dorm. He’d make a mess of your tidy desk, put you on the counter next to your sink. He could even take you against the wall if you let him, or bent over your bed until tear marks stained your sheets. He needs your guidance because your uncertainty makes him harder in his pants and he thinks hearing your trembling voice as you try to boss him around is the last thing he needs.

The question was enough to pull you out of your trance. Your hips stopped moving in such a frenzy, your moans were replaced with ragged breathing. Anton hears you remember in real time where you were and he knows you can feel the bulge in his jeans against your thigh.

When you finally pull away from his shoulder he sees your wide eyes. Your face is glazed with a thin layer of sweat and glowing from euphoria. Anton can’t believe you seem so spent when he hasn’t broken a single sweat.

“How do you want it?” he asks again, voice gentle and unassuming.

He sees that the question registered the second time. You blink a few times, you stop putting so much of your weight on his leg. You look around your room and Anton doesn’t even know if you’re aware of all the possibilities. 

“On my bed,” you smooth your hand over your mattress like he doesn’t know where it is. “I want to be on top,” you add.

He feels heat across his cheeks at the thought of you being on top. When you hesitantly turn around to get on the bed he has to wipe away a smile with his hand. He goes to the button of his jeans while you crawl to the center of your mattress. Anton doesn’t know if you’re purposefully perched on your knees, but you incite something in him all the same. He’s quick unzipping his gray hoodie, flexing in his white undershirt before he takes that off too. He’s honored to have so much of your attention. You seem to be so lost in him you forgot to be insecure or to hide your exposed body. Anton shamelessly looks at your naked body as he pushes his pants down his legs, leaving him in just his boxers.

Anton feels like he’s been working out just for this. He almost feels bad, like he’s ruining everyone else for you. He knows that he looks good because you told him, that he smells good because you told him that too. Even if you know he’s been around it must feel like he’s here just for you. Your eyes eventually go down to his thighs and what’s covered in the middle. He can feel himself pulsing in his boxers at your mouth slightly agape. 

Still, Anton feels the need to keep up appearances. He crawls onto the bed timidly with sheepish smile like he’s afraid to take off his last garment. He just wants to be up close and touch you when you finally see the last part of him.

Anton lays on the bed right in front of you. Just like you said, he’s ready for you to put your knees on either side of his body and take what you’ve convinced yourself is yours. He still feels your eyes on his boxers, he props his up so he can lean on them. The sound of him moving across your creaky mattress makes you look at him in the face.

“Do you still want to do this?” he asks.

You nod your head. When your eyes wander back down to his crotch he moves again. 

“Yes,” you say, nodding your head again. “I do.”

Anton lightly gestures towards his boxers.

“Should I?” he asks. 

He lets the end of his sentence break off with uncertainty. Only then do you rise to the occasion, reaching your hands to the waistband. Anton helps with another pair of hands and lifts his hips. He pushes until his boxers are caught on his ankles. He has to bend his body to take it off the rest of the way, but can feel your eyes on his dick. It’s been heavy and leaking since he came into your room, he could feel the weight of it smacking against his lower abdomen after it was caught on his waistband. He even heard your weight shift so you could get a good look at it, and when he went back to being propped on his elbows you were shamelessly looking.

Just from your attention his dick twitches again. Anton uses his thumbs to pop his fingers, letting you get used to the sight. He loves that you can’t hide anything. He can see you nervously chew on your lip and shift your weight again as you settle on your haunches.

“We don’t have to, you know.” Anton assures.

“No, I wanna.” You point towards the bedside table beside his head and Anton follows your finger. “In the third drawer, there’s condoms,” you say.

Anton goes to the third drawer and opens it. He sees an opened box of condoms, a rose toy, and a dildo looking back at him. He pulls a condom from the ripped open packaging and brings it to rest on his chest.

“Are you seeing other people?” he asks.

“No,” you say while shaking your head. “I only took one out of the box because I was curious.”

He knows that you could’ve asked the same question back to him. He asked the question to be a tease, but you answered so honestly and quickly he almost feels embarrassed in return. He thinks about you touching the slimy latex just to see what it was like, or sliding it on your dildo before using it on yourself. There’s so much that Anton can do to you. His dick twitches against his stomach again and he can feel more precum seeping from his tip to cool on his stomach.

Before Anton can say anything else he feels your knees plant into the mattress on one side of his body. He feels the weight on his other side, and then he feels your hips rest on his. It’s a simple movement, but bold on your part. He wonders how long it took to work yourself up to this moment; have you been thinking about it since you saw him in the library? Since he left your dorm a week ago? He doesn’t know what to make of things, because you positioned yourself lower down his legs so you could both see his dick. He felt your hand wrap around him lightly, emulating what you’ve seen and heard. You hold his dick upright, and Anton can see the visual proof of how deep he’d be inside of you.

He falls to his back immediately, getting comfortable on your made bed. He hears you situate yourself while he stares at your ceiling. You make minor adjustments: changing the placement of your knees, moving further up his legs, finding out where to put your hands. Anton doesn’t stare because he knows you’d get nervous, instead thinking about those toys you kept in your drawer.

“You’re big,” you say.

Anton only nods against your pillow. He props himself back up when you stop moving, to see you inching further and further up. 

“It’s not too big, right?” he asks.

He’s about the same size as the artificial dick you keep right next to your rose toy. He didn’t see it have the veins or the ridges like his dick does, though. He’s sure it doesn’t get warm or twitches like he does, either. 

“Not too big,” you answer.

Anton grabs the condom off of his chest and props himself on his elbows again. He sees your eyes focus on the foil packet. He pretends like he’s going to open it but you take it from his hands eagerly, opening it up and taking out the slimy latex. Anton helps you by holding his dick upright, and lets out a sigh when you put the condom on to let you know it feels good. He pinches the tip of the condom to make sure it’s on snug, and lets go. You’re the one that keeps a hold on him, keeping him upright. He knows he’s heavy and pulsing in your hand. When you practice different grips on him he lets his head tilt back, he even bucks into your hand despite your weight resting on him.

“Feels good,” he sighs.

Anton feels your weight lift from him and is shocked to see you hover over his length. Almost instantly a hand is on your waist, stopping you from dropping down on him.

“Lemme prep you first,” he says.

You’re shaking your head and already dropping your hips onto him. Anton can feel his tip prod your entrance.

“Did it before you got here,” you say quickly. “I’m still wet too.”

He’s confused because he couldn’t have been more than ten minutes behind you. He left the library in a rush and took a shortcut. He can’t think of how fast you had to prep yourself for him, and that it was selfish for you to do it without him. He would’ve gladly used that dildo on you until you were ready for him. 

Anton is also not entirely sure he was supposed to know that you were masturbating before he showed up. You said it in a haste because you were dropping further onto him, and he could tell you were nervous. He kept a hand on your waist in an attempt to stabilize yourself. Your walls were closing around him over and over again. Anton expects you to pause or to say it’s too much, but you keep going, slowly but surely all the way down. You squeeze around him sporadically the whole time, but when he’s fully inside you don’t let go. Your breaths are just tiny gasps, turning into a big sigh when you reposition yourself on him. Anton sees your shoulder snag from relief, and he feels your walls relax around him before squeezing him again. He let out tiny sounds of his own, bringing in a gasp to match yours and letting out sharp breaths each time you squeezed around him. He couldn’t tell if your body was trying to keep his dick inside or push him out. He knew that he couldn’t move, because you had a vice grip around him and refused to move.

In this position he sometimes found himself engaging in dirty talk. Sometimes he would taunt, or let out pitiful questions if he wanted to keep the facade going. He found it hard to engage with you because you said nothing to him. You were almost talking to yourself, saying that something felt so good. You refused to keep eye contact with him too, letting your head hang and screwed your eyes shut. 

“Feels good, right?” Anton asked.

You just nodded your head as you continued to rock your hips. Anton kept a hand on your hips, holding your soft skin and guiding you to keep a rhythm.

Anton never took his eyes off of you. There was no reason to be mean to you, or to mock you. You did it all on your own, getting hot from the embarrassment of feeling it too much. He understands why you didn’t want him to finger you because you probably wouldn’t have been able to handle it. He watches you grind your pelvis against his, probably chasing after the stimulation of his dick moving inside of you. He doesn’t feel much from it. 

Still, he lulls his head to the side, lets a whimper or a groan slip from his lips. He has to feed into your ego now, he’ll chide you for your selfishness and lack of endurance later. He thinks that faking it is enough of a punishment, because you’ll come back to chase after the noises he made just so he can deprive you of them next time. He’ll tell you that you have to try harder than that, engage your thighs to properly ride him and actually look at him.

Right now, he lets you have your fun because he’s enjoying it too. In the way that you’re so easily satisfied he finds himself feeding off of it, knowing that he has all that you need. When he bites his lip it’s not to keep the sounds at bay but to stop himself from smiling at how destroyed you already are. 

You start grinding your hips the same way you were humping his leg, desperate and erratic. Anton’s hand on your waist is no match against you, so he goes back to propping his elbow up to watch you do your thing. Your hands go to his broad chest to hold yourself up. He feels your blunt nails digging into his skin from the pressure. He knows you’re close, because you’re babbling and saying incoherent things he can’t quite catch. Something about how you’re close, how it’s so deep, how it feels so good. Anton already knows all these things. If you opened your eyes you could see a fake pout and the faux understanding nod. Instead you’re invested in your own pleasure. 

Anton lets you ride it out. You can’t even vocalize that you’re cumming because you’ve never had an audience before. Just like the first time he dictates when your euphoria begins, and you affirm it by quickly nodding your head. It’s the only time Anton sees your hips slow to a normal pace, and start lifting your hips to try and get a deeper grind. Anton knows that you’re prolonging your pleasure the wrong way because you’re running from it, but he lets you. Even when you lift your hips too much and the pulsing causes his dick to push right out of your pussy, and he’s wet and hot against his stomach sheathed in the sticky latex. You don’t care, because you’ve never had to care about anyone else and collapse right on top of him. Your sweaty body is pressed against his dry torso, and you lean on him with so much weight that his propped up body collides with the mattress.

Anton’s dick is still angry and twitching against his stomach. He was wound up from watching you but he says nothing. He gently rubs your back, matches your breathing to try and bring you back to Earth. 

He thought he had lulled you to sleep, but suddenly he feels your head turn. Anton catches you kiss his cheek quickly, and you even keep eye contact with him when you speak. 

“Thanks Anton."

one empty tequila shooter & the final item

SUMMER, BEFORE SENIOR YEAR

when you were a little kid, one of your favourite days of the year was the last day of school. the promises of a pizza party, smooth wooden pieces of board games underneath your fingertips, blowing bubbles in the air. without a single care in the world left the younger you feeling as though she could take on the world. something was so special about that day, when saying goodbye used to be easy and before “have a good summer” turned into “have a good life” in the blink of an eye.

back then, there was always a next year to look forward to, a new grade to happily call yourself. seeing your friends again was a certain promise. at some point, growing up was a privilege - now, it was an expectation. as you got older and wiser, it was something to be scared of.

sitting on the beach at the bonfire party before senior year, you watched the tide wash away footprints left on sparkling sand. it came and went so easily, taking away what had once been there like it never existed. like it never mattered.

“what do we leave behind when we’re gone?”

the party just begun. jungkook and jaehyun tossed the last of the wood into the fire and cars started to show up past the hills overlooking the sand. but, for now, it was just you and your friends.

it seemed as though you all constantly found yourselves circling fires over the years. you thought back to not just the first party that yeri ever took you to, but you thought of new year’s at the ski lodge and derry beach and birthdays, even the time jaehyun forced you all to go camping for two nights in junior year. you’d long gotten used to the crackling fire and harsh snapping of twigs, along with the smoky wood fire air and taste of roasted nuts.

for centuries, humans had always been drawn to bonfires - gathering around in both celebration and remembrance.

without explicitly saying so, tonight was meant for both.

doyeon passed around six tequila shooters to start things off and someone insisted on a toast to the year ahead. yeri spoke first, wondering aloud about an imaginary legacy formed by the past four years.

“the late nights?” seokmin offered, holding up his shooter in celebration.

you hummed, smiling. “how about friendship?” you offered dryly, ignoring the jeers that followed from your friends.

everyone downed their shooters, discarding them in a plastic bag because jungkook would kill you all if he caught anyone littering in public. besides, this beach was special. in a way, it was where everything started. not much had changed since your first visit at the start of freshman year and you wanted to keep it that way - bottle up this vision of the beach up forever and keep it tucked away in your memories like a lucky charm.

“pft, remember when you used to choke when you took shots?” jaehyun took a jab at you, snickering.

you nearly forgotten that jaehyun was there when that happened during the first bonfire party of freshman year. he had been so quiet back then, so polite. how things have changed.

“remember when you used to mind your business?” you shot back and the others laughed.

there was just a few days away until the start of the semester and you wondered if you should have been feeling a certain fear bubbling in your chest when you thought about it. instead, it was all quiet - like it wasn’t real. or, maybe because you’d long accepted it. you were so used to saying goodbye until something came along and made you want to stay. you looked over at your friends, laughing around the fire pit, and wished you could stay forever.

an arm slithered around your waist and you automatically leaned into it. jungkook wrapped the rest of his blanket to share and you whispered a thanks.

“not feeling talkative tonight?” you asked.

jungkook shrugged. “just not good with all the sentimental stuff.”

the first half of the year felt patient and kind towards you. most of it was a repeat of previous years - academics, friends, work. this time, you felt like you finally had a handle on your life and began to really grow into the person you wanted to be. you made smarter choices and decided what was worth your time, while finally getting into rhythm with the demands of college. you were taking it day by day, until time was no longer patient and it was summer once more. once the school was out of session and the warmer months flew by, you suddenly felt stuck and like things were slipping out of your control. and now, it seemed like everyone around you had already begun feeling like everything was about to end and like jungkook, it was difficult to swallow.

you kissed his cheek, which at the very least, elicited a small smile out of him. “it’s not even september yet. no need to get sentimental.”

except, the revelations made tonight made it impossible to be otherwise.

the party followed like any other party you’d been to. you laughed with strangers and played beach volleyball. someone’s ancient portable speakers played songs that only wanted to talk about having a good time. soon, the day fell away and with it went the golden wash of the skies above. you thought about how the sun never failed to say goodbye, but its loyalty always guaranteed a new day. when the muddy skies darkened and the shy moon peeked from behind, the beach belonged to just you and your friends again. other attendees had long left and only the six of you remained, still circled around that everlasting fire.

most of you had sobered up at this point. you only drank the singular shooter. the conversation continued flowing - as if you were all scared to finally leave.

yeri dropped the first bomb.

the topic at hand had been baseball when she suddenly blurted it aloud. she’d been unusually quiet for the past little while, as if battling internally.

“i won’t be graduating this year with you guys.”

you thought you heard wrong or that you’d been hallucinating altogether. seokmin nearly knocked over the bong. everyone turned to yeri with either wide eyes or furrowed brows of confusion.

“what are you talking about?” jungkook said, laughing like the nerves lined his throat. “you don’t need to be scared of failing any of your classes.”

“i can set you up with the tutoring company that’s been helping me. . .“ seokmin offered, but his voice trailed off when he saw the solemn look on yeri’s face.

she took a deep sigh and that’s when you all knew that this was reality. “i won’t be graduating with you guys,” yeri repeated. “i’ve switched my major four times. even with summer school, i won’t have the credits i need. if i take extra classes, i’ll compromise my gpa and ruin my chances of getting a good student teaching placement.”

when you first met yeri, she was a pre-med student and dreamed of being a doctor. then, she switched to english before freshman year even ended. you encouraged her to figure out what truly made her happy, as did the rest of your friends. then, yeri switched to history. over the summer, she suddenly announced that she was going to switch yet again to education. you had a feeling that something like this would happen, but yeri had a habit of somehow making things work - whether it was finding a way to transfer her credits with each change or other things in her life, like somehow making it to all of her scheduled extracurriculars.

“what?” doyeon was the first to finally speak, her jaw hung wide open. “i know you spoke with your advisor, is there really no way for you to get your other credits transferred? or to stay in history?”

yeri shook her head. “they said that i’ll still need the same education courses plus the rest of my history requirements,” she responded, shoulders sagging. “then, i’d end up staying an extra two years, instead of just one. it’ll be worse. plus, i can’t stay in a major i know i don’t love.”

the rest of you went quiet, absorbing yeri’s words. before, it was almost like a running gag that yeri could never truly stay in one place. you couldn’t blame the girl - who’s supposed to know what they want in their twenties? it was unfair to decide what you wanted to do for the rest of your life when you were so young.

but, you’d long pictured the six of you in robes and caps on graduation day. it was always supposed to be the six of you, until the very end.

“you’re sure this is going to be what makes you happy?” jungkook asked. he knew yeri the longest and watched her go through so many changes, so many ups and downs.

when yeri nodded without hesitation, she did so with her eyes downcast. still, despite her indecisive behaviour, you had a feeling that it was true. it was a funny feeling, like you knew that this was it for her.

“we’re here to support you every step of the way,” you whispered.

“i just. . .” yeri began and sniffled, hands hiding her face. “i don’t want to be left behind,” she lamely admitted.

jaehyun and doyeon immediately came over to hug either side of her, cradling her as she quietly cried. then, you, jungkook and seokmin followed, resulting in a massive group hug and murmured words of assurance.

“we’re not leaving you behind,” seokmin murmured, holding yeri’s hand as she babbled out her fears in one long sentence.

yeri knew that this was what she wanted and she was sure of something, for the first time in her life. now, she had to do it without her best friends. she thrived in every social circle, but you knew that you guys were special to her. when she finally calmed down and everyone returned to their previous seats, something heavy hung in the air.

then, it was jaehyun’s turn to speak up. he swished around the remaining liquid at the bottom of his beer bottle, clearing his throat to grab everyone’s attention.

“i have something to say, too,” he begun and your heart immediately sunk.

college couldn’t last forever. you knew that. but, you were never going to be prepared for just how damn fast things were about to change.

seokmin’s eyes flickered to jaehyun. “what is it, buddy?”

after a beat, he looked around the circle. the hot air felt suffocating and it was as if the dazzling flames grew with each second.

“i looked at my options for grad school,” he started. “and i’ve decided on where i’m going to apply. i, uh, chose schools abroad. mostly in asia, some in europe - but, i know for sure that i won’t be getting my master’s here.”

these statements were all worth celebrating. everyone was ready to move on with their lives and figure out what was best for them. jaehyun was incredibly intelligent and you knew he had a lot of ambitions for himself in life. you watched some of your friends offer him high fives, despite the obvious sadness swirling behind their eyes.

“that’s amazing,” doyeon said, smiling softly.

jaehyun nodded. “thank you guys. i guess. . .” he looked off into the sky, trying to find his words. “i chose to go to college here because of my parents. because i wanted to be in their shoes and i thought it would help me know myself better.”

he wasn’t exactly the most adventurous person in your friend group. jaehyun grew up a few towns over, just a drive away. it wasn’t that he didn’t enjoy taking risks, but that he was always comfortable in his roots and what he surrounded himself with. the familiar and jaehyun got along as one.

“i think it’s time for me to do more for myself. to find myself somewhere else,” jaehyun finished, flicking imaginary ash off of his legs.

jungkook told you four years ago, on the uber ride back from the beach, that college was supposed to be the place where you found yourself. in a way, it happened for you all.

you thought about the rest of the group. you and doyeon were both preparing for law school applications and had been studying for your lsats since the beginning of the year. seokmin had a guaranteed position at his parents’ insurance company after graduation. meanwhile jungkook. . . seemed unsure. you didn’t like to prod him about it because you knew he got stressed out easily, but his future was up in the air. that was a conversation for another day.

“will you be coming back after you finish?” jungkook queried, but it was like he was afraid of the answer already.

everyone looked at jaehyun nervously. the possibility of you all going your separate ways was not only possible, but inevitable. still, it was clear that no one considered a future in which you would be spread out across the world.

jaehyun pressed his lips together in a thin line. “i don’t know,” he replied with candor.

you sat in an uncomfortable realization that you were no longer chasing time. growing up wasn’t fun anymore and the ticking of the clock was now clutching onto your ankles, willing to you live in the memories of yesterday. it felt impossible to move forward amidst the heavy weight of change.

while this dawned upon you, yeri’s words from earlier in the night echoed in your head.

what do we leave behind when we’re gone?

you wondered what good you had done for the college you would be moving forward from. making meaningful change was the last of your worries throughout the past four years. all the time you’d spent at this school and you struggled to pinpoint what you made special about it.

“can i be honest?” doyeon blurted out, toying with her fingers. “you guys. . .you guys are all i got.”

no one spoke a word again. silence enveloped the air, except for the popping of the bonfire in the middle of you all. her words hit hard because for you all, they rang true. something special lived in that circle, where the six of you sat and laughed and dreamed together. when your families didn’t show up at your door, your friends were already inside and welcoming you back home.

doyeon continued, looking away and you knew that she was trying to not cry.

“i don’t know what’s supposed to come next. but, no matter what, i’m here for you all.”

a part of you mourned the version in which it was the six of you with your graduation robes on. but, doyeon’s statement forced you to find solace in what you already had - the visions of the six of you everywhere else. on a balcony, watching fireworks over the slopes. cramped in your freshman dorm, playing cards and drinking the cheapest vodka from the liquor store. eating corndogs on the fall fairgrounds.

you didn’t know what was supposed to come next either. you just knew what you had now and what it meant to you.

**

relationships would never be perfect and you learned that with jungkook. it felt like everything finally fell into place when the two of you made things official at the end of last year. you figured that things would feel natural - dating your best friend didn’t exactly seem like rocket science. of course, you learned the hard way that every relationship still required the same amount of hard work and love to get through the hard days. what mattered was standing by each other.

the two of you stood in the kitchen of your shared apartment with doyeon and yeri, making dinner together. there was just one more day until the semester begun and it didn’t feel real.

jungkook acted uncharacteristically quiet since arriving and you had a feeling that it was because of the conversation shared at the bonfire. you weren’t trying to get him to suddenly spit it all out, but it was obvious that your repeated “are you okay’s” were getting annoying for him.

he put the salt shaker on the counter with more force than necessary. “please stop asking me if something is wrong with me.” jungkook let out an aggravated sigh.

it wasn’t like the two of you constantly butted heads, but navigating through conflicts were naturally not the easiest thing in the world. you never had a real, long-term relationship before jungkook and neither had he. learning to communicate and to solve problems as a team was a slow, but rewarding journey.

“i’m sorry,” you said immediately, gently touching his arm.

jungkook’s eyes softened. “it’s okay,” he replied.

the last nine months of your relationship had otherwise been amazing. on top of your memories from the past few years, you and jungkook made even more happy moments together. you got each other through finals and internships and approached many milestones as a couple. your bedroom walls showed it - polaroids of dates and holidays, souvenirs from your first trip as a couple over the summer, the gifts that you received from jungkook’s mother with each visit to his home.

the “will they” became the “now what?” and the question of choosing each other was no longer a question. the only question remaining was the future left for the two of you. you could tell that it was what burned in jungkook’s mind.

on the kitchen counter, jungkook’s phone flashed with a notifcation from his email. you weren’t trying to snoop, but you saw what it said when you handed it to him. it was the admissions office from a graduate school nearby.

“i think i’ve narrowed down where i’ll be applying,” jungkook said, suddenly changing the subject.

you walked over to the stove top, checking on the stew. “yeah?” you responded casually, steam fogging up your vision when you uncovered the pot.

of course you were relieved when he told you his choices. you weren’t necessarily worried about having to potentially go long distance after graduation, but it was certainly on your mind. in the end, the law schools that you hoped to get admitted to were all within driving distance of jungkook’s top choices for grad school. you hadn’t even really told him where you wanted to go, so it was by chance that your aspirations aligned. a lot of them were within the same metropolitan area.

it wasn’t like you and jungkook didn’t talk about your future together. it became clear that you both wanted something long-term out of this relationship, but now, it finally looked clear.

still, jungkook brushed off most discussions about the future in general.

“we could even get a place right in the middle of where our schools will be,” he remarked, as he opened the rice cooker.

talking about the future with you was easy. but, you noticed that he wouldn’t delve into his future.

it took a few weeks for jungkook to finally admit it. the last of summer still had yet to fade away, with a sleek heat warming the air and the sun bright outside. the cool ac was the only thing keeping you sane, as you cleaned up the space that the ceramics club used for open studio hours.

you were the last one left in the room, double checking that you’d put away all of the equipment when you heard your name at the doorway.

“i thought you had practice at the pool,” you said, but happily accepted a soft kiss from your boyfriend.

jungkook shrugged. “i cancelled it. apparently, there’s some big mixer for the freshmen and i didn’t want them to miss out.”

“oh man, i miss those events,” you chuckled, shaking your head and wrapped your arms around him. “it feels just like yesterday when yeri and doyeon would drag me to all those freshman socials and game nights.”

“you sound old,” he replied wryly, earning a smack on his arm.

the two of you walked out of the arts building. it seemed like you were short on evenings like this - where you had nothing on your schedule and you were free to walk around doing nothing. you and jungkook headed for his car with no destination in mind, braving the thick september heat. he carried your books for you like a lovesick teenager, as always, and tucked your hat box full of pottery tools underneath his arm.

“doyeon and i are taking the lsats soon,” you shared, intertwining your fingers with his. "

“feeling prepared?”

“actually, yes,” you chuckled. “i’m feeling pretty good about the test. i’m ready for applications, too.”

jungkook nodded thoughtfully. “seems like you’re pretty sure about everything that’s coming up.”

at some point, you started to form an understanding of what you wanted. you always knew what career you saw yourself in, but it was the path along the way that once left you feeling unsure or not enough. your confidence built itself from the ground up and although things weren’t perfect, you were far from the overwhelmed girl that cried on the kitchen of her freshman year dorm.

“something like that,” you said.

jungkook muttered, “that makes one of us.”

he opened the car door for you and the two of you settled in. after putting all of your belongings in the backseat, jungkook sat beside you. you noticed the frown on his face.

“what do you mean by that?” you queried gently.

he took a second to form his thoughts. “guess i’m just unsure about what comes next after college,” jungkook admitted. “i feel like everyone’s been talking about the future so much and it made me realize how stuck i feel.”

jungkook wanted to become a psychologist and you knew he had the grades for it. he had the drive and the lived experience that would ensure success in the field. most of all, he had the passion. so, you were left confused.

“stuck? you have so much going for you, koo.” you reached over, cupping his face and tried to meet his eyes.

jungkook leaned into your touch, but his jaw remained tense. “how can you all be sure? of everything?” he murmured. “i feel like no one is scared like i am. what if i don’t get into my master’s program? what if this isn’t even the right path for me? and what about our friends, what’s supposed to happen after graduation?”

“you’re not supposed to know everything. i know you want to, but it’s impossible.”

that was the first and last time jungkook spoke about his fears about the future. you calmed him down that afternoon, crooning sweet words of encouragement and pride to ease his worries. he was always a worrier and by this point, you knew how to put his heart at ease. he repeated over and over to himself that college wasn’t the end of the world and that was that.

**

FALL, SENIOR YEAR

seokmin’s last greek formal turned into something resembling five parents sending off their kid to prom, as you all fussed over pictures and making sure his suit was perfect. even though he was the only one that was going to show up, you all shared shooters at the start of the night to hype him up. having a physical shooter was something that helped you watch how much you were drinking and all of your friends made it into a regular thing, as opposed to the days where you’d pour liquor straight into your mouths from the bottle.

you all gathered for friday night dinner at seokmin’s apartment a few hours earlier than usual because he had some big fancy ball to attend. still, seokmin had been dying to host seemingly every group gathering as soon as he got his own apartment - he still had a room in the sigma chi house, but had finally grown tired of living with a bunch of gross college boys.

“your tie is crooked!” yeri exclaimed dramatically, reaching over to fix the red fabric.

meanwhile, jaehyun was busy adding gel to seokmin’s hair. jungkook filmed the entire thing on his phone with a snicker.

one thing you came to understand when it came to college was that you were able to choose traditions with the people you loved, as opposed to scrambling to fulfill traditions laid out for you. prom, a senior trip, skip day - all of those things were well known as a way to celebrate the last year of high school. this was different and felt very adult-like, the freedom of being able to surround yourself with the people you chose.

“our seokmin is all grown up,” jungkook cooed, ignoring the middle finger sent his way by the man in question.

doyeon, who was a few feet away on the couch, playfully rolled her eyes at the antics of your friends.

“you guys are making it seem like he’s about to get married,” she remarked.

your job at the moment was to run a lint roller over every surface of seokmin’s outfit. “who knows when the next time we’ll see seokmin all dressed up will be.”

all six of you shuffled together for a picture in the middle of seokmin’s living room. yeri positioned her phone against a shelf and hollered for everyone to get ready as the self-timer started to go off.

“i really doubt we’ll see you in a suit again until you weasel your way into getting some girl to marry you,” you teased, poking seokmin’s chest. everyone laughed at the comment.

he puffed out his cheeks. “hey!”

“oh god, let’s not talk about weddings already.” yeri buried her face in her hands. “you guys are gonna make me go crazy.”

you chuckled, hugging yeri. it was already october and it made you wonder how freshman year felt like it lasted three times as long. senior year evidently had a tendency of messing up everything that you knew about time, bending the universe in strange ways. you could tell that it was slowly starting to also affect your friends.

“how about we focus on right here, right now?” offered jaehyun, joining you to ruffle yeri’s hair.

it was always about the right here, right now until it was finally over.

**

WINTER, SENIOR YEAR

jungkook was horrible at surprising you. he planned many dates and gifts over the past year, some of which behind your back, but you managed to find out about each and every one of them. that didn’t bother you at all, but this was one thing that he knew he needed to make special for you.

the holidays were fast approaching and this year, you agreed to go back to your hometown and not only spend christmas with your mom, but spend some time with your father, as well. truth be told, you wouldn’t have been able to take the leap to repair your relationship with him if it hadn’t been for jungkook’s encouragement. it was your favourite thing about him - the way he made his loved ones better people. unfortunately, though, this meant that you would be spending your first anniversary apart and so, you both planned to do something before the conclusion of the semester.

“koo, this place is really expensive.”

when jungkook said that he had dinner reservations, you did your thing - you did your makeup meticulously, looked up and recreated a ridiculously hard hairstyle on pinterest, and dragged jaehyun and seokmin dress shopping.

they initially moaned and groaned on the way to the mall, but once you bought them cinnamon rolls to share, the boys were actually extremely helpful with each dress you tried on. the girls would have hyped you up with everything you picked out, even with their honest criticisms, and you needed to hear from jaehyun and seokmin instead, as they knew better about what jungkook’s tastes were like.

“do the red dress,” seokmin had decided, sitting in front of the fitting room with a mouthful of cinnabon.

jaehyun scoffed like he was crazy. “what? no, you need to do the black - that’s kook’s favourite colour.”

“yeah, but he likes her in red,” seokmin shot back. “remember derry beach? i had to smack him so he would stop staring -”

“- at least do the heeled boots with the dress!”

safe to say, they were very opinionated and gave useful pointers. that’s how you ended up in this burgundy, sheath chiffon dress that hugged your curves and made you feel like a princess. and yes, you wore the heeled boots. you both entered the restaurant slightly disheveled and you muttered complaints about having to already touch up your makeup because jungkook couldn’t keep his hands to himself in the car. as soon as he came to pick you up, it didn’t take long for him to completely give up and park in an alleyway - still, you somehow made it to your reservation on time after the detour.

from across the candlelit table, jungkook smirked. “don’t worry your pretty little head about that.” his eyes returned to the menu, which was the reason for your blurted out concern.

you sighed and as you spoke, you leaned over to wipe off a smudge of lipstick on jungkook’s neck that you missed earlier. “are you sure?” you asked. “these are the prices. i thought it was the calories for each dish.”

“baby, it’s our anniversary,” jungkook reminded, hand over yours on the table.

it wasn’t like you guys were broke, but you were still college students. you came to understand why jungkook had been taking on extra hours at the clinic where he worked part-time. the pointed look on his face forced you to shove these thoughts away and enjoy the evening.

an amber hue dawned over your surroundings, as contrasting hanging lamps illuminated the restaurant in mosaic glass. it was a korean fusion spot and one of the walls depicted a floor to ceiling mural of what jungkook explained to be was the joseon dynasty era. candles situated on every table and plants crawling each corner, the atmosphere was both cozy and luxurious.

your food and drinks arrived shortly and the two of you fell into comfortable conversation. laughter and grins filled the next hour or so, a warm feeling spreading in your chest from the man that you loved. jungkook looked so handsome like this - he cleaned up pretty well himself, donning black button down and slacks. his hair was messy and beautiful all at once, falling just underneath his ears, where he wore the earrings that you gave him last christmas.

when dessert came, you noticed the way jungkook’s leg began to shake. he had something to say. you let him take his time, waiting patiently as you carefully sliced into your cake.

then, of course, jungkook caught you off guard.

“hey, what’s that over there?”

“huh?”

you fell for it like a looney tunes cartoon, whipping your head to where jungkook pointed behind you. you were sure that you’d be met with some sort of celebrity dining in the same space or maybe even a server tripping and dropping a bunch of food. when you realized that you were squinting at absolutely nothing, you turned back and gasped when you saw was in front of you.

a velvet box.

“i’m not proposing!” jungkook immediately exclaimed, eyes wide and hands up in the air.

truthfully, you let out a sigh of relief. jungkook knew damn well that you weren’t accepting any sort of ring until you walked across that stage and received your diploma anyways. he chuckled at your reaction and reached over, grabbing both of your hands. and squeezing them. you bit your lip, waiting.

he breathed your name, eyes soft. “i am so madly in love with you. every single part. i loved you back when you would fall asleep during our tutoring sessions and drool all over our work,” jungkook laughed and held your hands tighter when it became clear that you wanted to hit him. “i loved you when you never missed a single one of my swim meets. i loved you with every movie we watched and every playlist we’ve made. you are my best friend and i swear, i will love you for as long as you let me.”

the past four years of your lives came together like the mosaic glass lighting the room - each colourful moment crafted to shine and glimmer when they all came together. you saw it all in your head, even with all the tears shed and frustrations had to get where you were now with jungkook. you could feel new ones welling in your eyes as jungkook continued.

“you’re a sap,” you mumbled, but your voice gave you away.

jungkook grinned. “happy anniversary, baby. i got this for you.”

he let go of your hands only to open the box. the contents left you breathless - a dainty ring with two heart shaped stones surrounded by a halo of pavé, twinkling in the warm light above. your lips parted as jungkook slid it on your right left finger, eyes never leaving yours.

“a promise ring?” you whispered, still crying to not cry.

he nodded. “yeah. we’ve been through so much together and i’ve been lucky enough to call you mine for a year now. with so much going on and our futures coming soon, i wanted to give you this. i want you in that future, wherever it may be, and i promise to never let you down.”

if there was one thing jungkook did so well, it was guiding you through all of your uncertainties. he always seemed to be there, like an everlasting rock. you didn’t need a ring to know that, but you still smiled and swore to never take it off.

when you came home the next day to doyeon and yeri, they cooed at the sight of the promise ring on your hand.

you sat on the couch with them, as doyeon poured you all soda and you recounted your anniversary date with your boyfriend. your shared apartment brought in a lot of sunlight, which was more than welcome in the winter months. an old lauryn hill record hummed in the background and you added just a shooter to your drink, while yeri and doyeon poured a heavy hand of tequila straight from a handle into theirs.

“wow, he really went all out,” yeri teased. she was still inspecting your hand and how pretty the ring glinted under natural light.

doyeon smiled, crossing her legs next to you. “god, i’m so happy for you guys.”

“thank you.” it wasn’t often that you blushed just off the mention of jungkook, but it was hard not to when you were reminded of the night every time you looked at your finger.

“so,” yeri said. “you guys are really locked in, huh? are you sure you didn’t apply to law school close to him on purpose?”

“yeri,” you groaned. “god, i would never do such a thing for a man. but, yes, i guess we are locked in. i think the coincidence with our applications was just a good sign.”

it almost seemed too good to be true, but given the hundreds of different directions that the rest of your friends seemed to be pulled, you considered yourself lucky.

doyeon smiled, putting her head on your shoulder. “you’re okay with bringing the boy from college into the real world?”

somehow, there wasn’t a universe where you didn’t. you had an inkling that jungkook was meant to be more than just some college boyfriend.

**

you never stopped to count the last times, especially when you didn’t even know it was the last time. but, there always was. you wished you could remember the last time your parents turned on your night light for you or the last time you played hopscotch. there was a last time for everything and in february, when your friends all decided to go to the local pub on a saturday night off, you had no clue it would be the last time you ever stepped in that place.

the royal oak pub brought back a lot of memories from freshman year, as it was the hot spot for everyone that year. everything in that place was old and dusty, but the drinks were cheap and the music was good. at some point, you and your friends graduated to flashier nightclubs and lounges, but no one protested when yeri suggested that you guys hit up the pub for a change.

you discreetly downed your little tequila shooter in the uber with her, as the car approached the bar, where you would be meeting the rest of your friends. you bounced with excitement as you entered, spotting them from the entrance.

“there they are!” seokmin exclaimed, apparently already a few drinks in.

the four of them waved from the booth and yeri sat on the edge next to jaehyun, while you squeezed past doyeon so that you could sit on jungkook’s lap. he smelled like leather and rum when he kissed your neck in greeting and you giggled at the way his nose tickled your skin.

it was getting harder and harder to catch all of your friends in the same place up until now. the majority of you were working hard on your applications to graduate school and in your and doyeon’s case, law school. long gone were the days when you spent every waking moment with your friends - from breakfast in the campus dining hall to the end of the night, returning back to stratton hall after whatever party you went to that night. you could still picture it so clearly - especially moments like seokmin crashing on the floor of jungkook and jaehyun’s dorm because he didn’t want to go all the way back to greek row.

the end of last semester was particularly tough, with only spontaneous gatherings outside of maybe one scheduled weekly hangout. you knew that was better than most friend groups, but it was still such a drastic change from what it looked like before. you figured that was the consequence of life getting busy. at the very least, all six of you were able to spend new year’s together once again and this time, it was in seokmin’s hometown and you stayed at his parents’ huge house.

“so,” yeri drawled, eying all of you. “what’s new?”

apparently, a lot.

doyeon received early acceptance to her top choice for law school, all the way on the other side of the country. jaehyun also got the first of his offers for grad school and he was currently between imperial college london and the university of hong kong. and, although the last of your acceptances had yet to roll in, you and jungkook were close to accepting your own postgraduate offers. the group smiled when you mentioned that the schools happened to be barely thirty minutes from each other.

“everything seems to be falling into place.” seokmin whistled, holding up his glass for a toast.

it all happened so fast, too. you raised your glass with the rest of your friends and cheered to your accomplishments.

“it feels like we were just worrying about our freshman gpas,” doyeon sighed, taking a long drink out of her long island iced tea. “now, we’re really here.”

right here, right now - until it wasn’t. until, soon enough, it looked like it was all about to be over.

you remembered crying over those grades a lifetime ago, wondering why you weren’t good enough and why everyone seemed to be one step ahead of you. somewhere along the way, you accepted the reality in which you weren’t extraordinary. you were getting by like everyone else and figuring things out at the same pace. the harsh truth was both sharp and comforting - you didn’t need to have it all figured out. a part of you yearned to know and to be, but it was moments like these that reminded you that it was okay to be anything but. it always worked out and it was more than okay to not know anything at all.

jungkook suddenly nudged seokmin with his foot, as if urging him to talk. it was hard to miss. you all looked at seokmin with questioning looks.

“alright,” he relented, setting down his glass. “i have something to announce.”

“oh my god, what now?” doyeon groaned, rubbing her temples like her cousin was about to announce his plans to drop out.

seokmin stuck his tongue out at her. “shut up. it’s nothing bad.” he leaned back, folding his arms across his chest.

you raised an eyebrow. “what is it?”

“i’m planning to solo travel for a year. i’m leaving the week after graduation.”

that was not the answer that anyone was expecting - except maybe jungkook, who looked like he already knew. but, it seemed about right.

“honestly, i had my doubts that you would immediately jump into working for your parents as soon as college is over,” quipped yeri.

you nodded. “but, for a year? by yourself?”

“i wanna see the world!” seokmin grinned. “i’ve been working my ass off for my parents and for what? a future that’s been decided for me since i was born?”

silence fell after that. he was being lighthearted, but it was true. seokmin’s career had long been carved out for him, no matter what he chose to do in college. he was always going to end up working for his parents.

“is that. . .okay with you?” you struggled to find the words.

seokmin shrugged. “i guess. but, before all of that happens, i want to do something on my own terms.”

and you understood that. college had been sbout finding yourself and figuring what you wanted after it was all said and done. you watched seokmin carry a weight that wasn’t even his for the longest time. though you were afraid of what was to come after the year was up and when you would even see him again, this felt like the best move for him. he deserved it.

the conversation between your friends contrasted greatly from months ago, when you all sat around a bonfire and expressed your fears for the year ahead. you expected the nerves to settle after a big revelation, a magical switch that turned your anxieties into excitement overnight.

instead, it was a quiet change. a slow one. but, it was always one that you knew that would come. it was like reading a book and suddenly reaching the last page, enjoying the story too much to realize it was the end. it was better for you, who hated change and never held on to material things. except this time, for the first time, you didn’t want to let go. you ignored it, buried it deep within you, and never noticed the subtle passing of time and the acceptance that came with it.

or, so you thought you’d come to acceptance.

“i’m thinking punta cana or cancun for the top choices, but i’ll show you what i’ve laid out so far and the research i’ve done.”

the rest of the night was consisted of some dancing, drinking and finalizing spring break plans. everyone wanted to make it a big deal and go overseas for the trip. doyeon already had a spreadsheet to show everyone, comparing different destinations and prices.

jungkook grinned. “the last spring break. we have to make it count.”

“the last hurrah!” yeri squealed, clapping her hands together.

unbeknownst to all of you, nobody would step foot in this pub ever again. this was the final time that you would sit in these booths, dance under these lights, and laugh with these people. there was a time when every crevice of this place was familiar to you. of course, it didn’t mark the end of your group hanging out. you found yourselves back at your other regular spots on the weekends for the rest of the school year, but this would be just another last time lost in your memories.

**

SPRING, SENIOR YEAR

growing up, your favourite television show was one tree hill. it was one of the many things you watched with jungkook over holiday break in junior year, with all the free time that the two of you had. a part of you wondered if you’ll ever get that kind of lazy free time every again. nonetheless, the rewatch had you come across a quote from one of the characters that caused a dull pain in your chest.

it’s the oldest story in the world. one day, you’re seventeen and planning for someday. and then, quietly, without you ever really noticing, someday is today, and that someday is yesterday and this is your life.

tonight, you and your friends had the smart idea to sneak onto the football field at one in the morning. somehow, the idea came from doyeon, who’d been groaning about the fact that she wanted to do something “crazy” before graduation. there was the skinny dipping in mexico during spring break, maybe even the group’s brief, one time experimentation with psychedelics last semester. you knew it had more to do with what tomorrow meant. it was the wednesday night before the ceremony and you all got wasted in your apartment to celebrate, somehow ending up back on campus after everyone agreed to doyeon’s idea.

“won’t there be cameras?” jaehyun wondered aloud.

at that, seokmin snickered. “what are they gonna do? expel us?”

it had been a while since you got drunk and although you were feeling some anxiety at first, jungkook held onto you the entire time and you became comfortable. the six of you piled into an extra large uber with absolutely no plan at all when you approached the field.

yeri sent a glare seokmin’s way. “uh, hello?” she said, reminding the male of the fact that she actually had something to lose.

“technically, it’s trespassing and the police will charge us, but that’s besides the point,” jungkook quipped, but everyone ignored him.

this was your life. or, at least, for the next twenty-four hours it was. it still hadn’t occurred to you that this was truly the final night of senior year. exams had long passed, you and your friends had a blast in cancun for your last spring break, and you posed for your graduation portraits months ago. after tomorrow, nothing would be the same.

“what comes after?”

doyeon’s question was a yell at the top of the fence, as the five of you urged her from the other side to just drop down already. except, the question rang differently in your ears and was nothing about the fence. if this was now, what was supposed to come next?

jungkook had went first - suspiciously skilled at climbing wired fences and got to his feet like greased lightning. when you send him an amused look from the other side, he put his hands up in defense.

“what? i was a troubled youth,” he smirked, half joking.

seokmin and jaehyun gave both you and yeri a boost to help you get over the fence. the latter shrieked when she felt her lululemon leggings rip, which gave the rest of you a laugh. doyeon continuously shook her head when they asked if she wanted help, even though the whole thing was her idea. the boys shrugged and climbed to the other side. then., doyeon had to finally swallow her nerves and climb by herself, but now at the top, she was scared to fall.

“just do it! don’t be scared!” you exclaimed encouragingly.

with a yelp, doyeon swung her legs over the other side and even though she almost lost her footing, she gracefully made her way down with the help of you and jungkook.

you couldn’t see much of the moon and stars on this may night and the lights were off, so you and your friends made your way to the center of the field with the illumination of your phone flashlights in hushed laughter.

soon, you sat in a circle and passed around a blunt, silver smoke painting the air. even though you’d all been drinking since the night started, seokmin passed around six shooters to keep things “refreshed,” as he called it.

“it almost feels like we’re still eighteen,” jungkook joked. “these are freshman antics.”

a round of chuckles emerged. in a way, it was like your group was trying to capture that feeling again - the feeling of having nothing but time on your side.

yeri sighed. “it feels. . .nice,” she said. “getting wasted and doing illegal shit. feels just like freshman year.”

“except, it’s not,” you piped in, voice dull. it broke a bit of the mood, but it sent everyone thinking.

jungkook put a hand on your shoulder. you’d been stressing about graduation for weeks now. things were feeling scary, feeling real.

nobody would say it, but everyone felt it. after tomorrow, you would all be going your separate ways with no guarantee of the next time everyone would be together once more. seokmin was packed to leave for argentina in a few days. the lease to the apartment you shared with doyeon and yeri would expire in a week. jaehyun received confirmation of his hong kong student visa that very morning. everything was about to change forever.

“why did this year have to go by so fast?” you felt the sting in your eyes and harshly swiped at them before anything could fall.

you thought you were good at letting go. you thought you accepted it all. and yet, on the night before your college graduation, you finally broke down in front of your best friends.

this was no longer going to be your life.

jungkook held you tight with each of your sobs and although you couldn’t see with your face buried in his chest, you heard the sniffles of your friends.

when everyone settled down, jaehyun spoke first. he ran a hand through his hair and looked up at the sky above. he wasn’t ever one for too many words unlinked to sarcasm and flirtation, but he knew could be vulnerable with the five of you. it was safe and always was going to be. so, the drunken sadness was welcomed.

“this place will always feel like home,” he murmured and he wasn’t referring to the middle of the football field.

you didn’t know where you’d be without these friends. for every good and every bad memory, they were there. to cheer you on and to comfort you, when you had no one else. most importantly, the person you became today only found her feet because of the way your friends loved you.

yeri affirmed it. “you guys are my home,” she stated.

making homes out of people was not smart - this was something you learned before college. you could decorate their rooms and open up the windows and still, they could walk right out of your life. you had nobody four years ago and you were scared of what you would do. yet, you made the stupid decision to build a house with these people around you, with bits of them in every doorway and the pieces of their love lingering on each floor. spring was here and the flowers bloomed again, but you weren’t ready to change with the seasons. they were home and you were already homesick.

when you entered college, the one thing you were terrified of was not being able to make any friends.

this was worse.

you slept in jungkook’s bed that night because you couldn’t do it alone. it was about five in the morning when you trudged into his room, eyes bleary and swollen. he followed right after you, kicking off his pants and shedding his shirt. you’d already thrown on one of his hoodies by the time he was done and drunkenly flopped onto his bed.

“drink that before you dare close your eyes.” jungkook tossed a water bottle towards you and you somehow caught it.

he turned off the lights and instantly pulled you into his arms, tucking your head underneath his chin. you let out a sigh, inhaling his scent to calm yourself down. jungkook could already tell that you were about to cry again and lovingly stroked your hair.

“i never actually imagined that we’d have to say goodbye one day,” you confessed into his skin, hoping it would muffle the sadness in your voice.

still, through the night and the past few months, you never saw jungkook let his mind wander too far. he’d expressed his worries at the beginning of the school year and since then, had completely shut them down. you looked up, hoping to find some sort of emotion in his eyes, but he only looked at the ceiling with a blank expression.

when he made eye contact with you, he smiled softly. “i know it all went by so fast,” jungkook whispered back and kissed your temple.

on graduation day by the swimming pool, you and jungkook met the younger version of yourselves for a conversation.

while the two of you were on time - five minutes early, even - your younger versions were ten minutes late. the younger you trailed behind because you were waiting for jungkook and you would never leave him behind.

upon arrival, she asked you where the nose ring went, the one you got behind your parents’ back when you were sixteen and felt like doing something rebellious amongst their nightly screaming fights. she and the younger jungkook asked you if you won the chase for the kind of freedom that only came with adulthood, where nobody could tell you what to do or who to be. you responded that you were now clawing for the freedom you had at his age, where nothing mattered, and that this was a cycle to never end at all stages of life.

the first thing you told your younger self was to prepare for it and of course, she didn’t listen.

you didn’t mind.

she wore false eyelashes and made a negative remark to you about your dad. you told her that he came today and cheered louder than anyone else in the stands when you crossed the stage for your diploma. her favourite drink was a vodka cranberry and that apart from special occasions, you stopped drinking a while ago. the younger jungkook watched in quiet admiration, while the older one held your hand.

this meeting existed in a strange void, where everything was happening at once and yet, you felt stuck. you knew that if you didn’t fight against it, you’d be stuck in a swirl of memories forever and the last thing you wanted to do was live in them. it was difficult, but jungkook’s voice pulled you out of it.

he watched you stare at the box for what seemed like forever. his patience was evergreen. then, a crease appeared in between his eyebrows and you became confused when he reached out to your face.

you realized he was wiping your tears. when had those fallen? their hot streaks against your cheek felt like sharp glass and suddenly, you were shaking uncontrollably.

“i know,” jungkook murmured, wrapping his strong arms around you and began to rub your back.

you couldn’t find the words. you tried, but only hiccups and wheezes came out of your lips. it was embarrassing, but it was jungkook, so you instead felt comfort in it.

and finally, he let go.

jungkook cried into your shoulder and you cried into his. you didn’t have to hold anything in and he didn’t have to put anyone before himself. more importantly, there was no longer anything to be afraid of. you melted into each other until there wasn’t space between you.

you realized that you’d been holding your breath until jungkook finally broke down. that was when you knew the ending was near. you just didn’t anticipate the ache in your chest when you received the hat box back from him. you stared at the box ever longer than before, tracing what was left of your college years with a delicate finger.

nobody ever really learned how to say goodbye. you could anticipate it and plan it all in your head, but it never worked out the way you imagined in your head. you thought you knew how to let go and you thought you knew what change meant. you held that box to your chest, finally understanding that with goodbyes, there was always something to celebrate.

“i’m the luckiest man in the world to have been able to have this with you,” jungkook murmured, his hand over yours on the top of the hat box.

your voice came out in a stammer until you breathed in deeply, calming yourself. “i love you,” was all you could manage to say at first. “thank you. for being here this whole time.”

"i'm so proud of you, you know," he said, as if he didn't remind you every single day.

except, today, you needed it. you crossed the stage and got your little piece of paper. you made it. today was one of the biggest accomplishments of your life and you didn't feel like celebrating - you felt relief. relief that it was all over. you wondered if that was normal.

"i'm proud of you, too," you responded and it was genuine, but jungkook noticed the look in your eye.

he ran this thumb along your cheek. "you did it. you deserve to feel good about it."

"it was something that i had to do." your tone was dry.

"and it was absolutely brilliant. every single moment of it."

growing up didn’t feel like a privilege anymore, but it was certainly a privilege to do so with jungkook. it was a privilege to fall in love with your best friend. even in this moment, he reminded you of the good you failed to see in yourself, just as he had done over the years. you made it to the very end and had him in your corner every step of the way.

"i think i'm ready now," jungkook said. "to go back."

"you feel okay?"

his smile was crooked. "as okay as i'll ever be. i think i get it now," jungkook paused. "the whole saying goodbye thing. you gotta remember all the happy parts when you do."

as you put the lid on your past, you looked up and met his eyes. it was like you could see the future. a big house, his tattooed arms carrying a baby with your smile and his eyes, a freaking dog and picket fence. you saw walls lined with degrees framing your name and others framing jungkook’s. you saw success and love and it was because you had each other - just like the past four years, you knew the two of you could do it all. the promise ring on your right hand was just the beginning.

you met your friends back to where the ceremony was being held, just in time for jaehyun’s department to begin theirs. nobody asked any questions and the five of you cheered as jaehyun crossed the stage, the last of your group to receive his diploma. then, you all went to stratton hall and posed for a picture - in that embrace with the people you loved, you stopped pushing your emotions away.

the last item added to the box came at the contributions of your friends. five tassels tied together and one red ribbon belonging to yeri wrapped around them all.

“the red thread of fate - it’s supposed to be for lovers, destined to always meet,” she said, beaming at you all. “i’d like to think that it could be for us six, too.”

you don’t ever make friends the way you did when you were in college. somehow, despite your rollercoaster of emotions before the ceremony, you still waited for a grief that never came. that was because it was always there, just deeper down than you could’ve ever suspected. it crawled underneath your skin and sunk further into your bones for every card game throughout those four years. for every study session trickling past midnight and neatly crushed cans of red bull, the grief spread to your blood streams. for every trip playlist and every sunset shared, the grief made a home inside you before you even knew it. it didn’t come knocking on your door on graduation day because you already had long let it in.

life went on, as it always did. you had no choice and you had no control over it. it went on, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t remember. being afraid of what came next after graduation day wasn't important.

because with your hat box tucked underneath your arm as you and your friends looked to the future, those memories would be with you forever. each item inside was a precious remembrance of a special form of love and friendship that came once in a lifetime. the grief didn’t take that away - it only showed how much it mattered.

FIN.

you had been complaining for weeks that you could not swim properly. anton, being the sweet friend he is, immediately offered to teach you. “i’ll help you,” he said with that soft smile, “no pressure. we can go to the dorm pool when it’s empty.”

so here you are on a quiet sunday evening, the indoor pool lights low and blue, water lapping gently. you are in a simple black swimsuit, standing at the shallow end, arms wrapped around yourself because you feel exposed. anton is already in the water, tall frame cutting through it effortlessly, hair wet and pushed back, looking way too good in just swim trunks.

“okay, first things first,” he says, voice gentle like always. “float on your back. i’ll hold you so you do not sink.”

you hesitate. he notices, swims closer, and offers his hands. “i got you. trust me.”

you lie back. his palms slide under your shoulder blades, warm even in the cool water. “relax… breathe… good girl.” the praise slips out naturally and both of you freeze for half a second. he clears his throat. “i mean, good job.”

he guides you through basic kicks, his hands light on your waist to keep you steady. every touch feels electric. when he moves to correct your arm position, his fingers brush the side of your breast accidentally. you jolt. he pulls back instantly, ears red.

“sorry—did not mean to—”

“it is fine,” you mumble, cheeks burning. but your voice is breathy and the water suddenly feels hotter.

he keeps going, trying to stay professional. shows you how to engage your core. his palm presses flat against your stomach under the water. “tighten here… feel that?” his voice is lower now. you nod, but all you can focus on is how big his hand is, how his fingers span almost your entire lower belly.

then he moves behind you to demonstrate the freestyle stroke. his chest brushes your back as he reaches around to guide your arm. you can feel every line of muscle, every breath he takes. his other hand rests on your hip to steady you and his thumb unconsciously strokes the bare skin there.

the tension is thick. neither of you speaks for a while. the only sounds are the gentle splash of water and your own too-fast breathing.

“you are doing really well,” he says quietly, but his voice has gone husky. his hand on your hip squeezes once, then lingers. you turn your head slightly and your eyes meet. the air feels charged.

“toni…” you whisper.

he swallows hard. his fingers flex on your hip again, almost like he cannot stop touching you. “yeah?”

you do not know what to say. the moment stretches. his hand slides a little lower, thumb brushing the top of your thigh. your breath hitches. he notices. his eyes darken.

“is this okay?” he asks, voice barely above a whisper.

you nod, small and shy. he steps closer, chest now fully pressed to your back, both hands on your waist under the water. his lips brush your ear.

“you feel so small like this… makes me want to hold you tighter.”

your heart is racing. you can feel him getting hard against your lower back through his swim trunks. he does not pull away. instead he lets out a shaky breath and rests his forehead on your shoulder.

“sorry… i should not… but you are so soft… and you smell so good even in the water…”

his hands slide up your sides, slow and careful, thumbs brushing the underside of your breasts. you shiver. he feels it and makes a soft, helpless sound.

“tell me to stop and i will,” he whispers, but his fingers keep tracing light patterns on your skin, like he cannot help himself.

you do not tell him to stop.

instead you turn in his arms, faces inches apart, water lapping at your chests. his eyes flick to your lips, then back to your eyes, asking without words.

the tension snaps.

he kisses you. slow at first, then deeper, one hand cupping the back of your head while the other stays on your waist, pulling you flush against him. you can feel how hard he is, how his body trembles slightly from holding back.

when you finally pull apart, both of you are breathing hard. he rests his forehead against yours, eyes closed, voice shaky.

“i have wanted to do that for so long… you have no idea.”

you smile, shy and happy, fingers tracing his jaw. “me too, toni.”

he kisses you again, softer this time, arms wrapping around you like he never wants to let go. but the kiss quickly turns hungrier. his hands slide down to your ass, squeezing gently as he pulls you closer. you whimper into his mouth and start rocking against him, feeling his hard cock press between your thighs through the thin fabric.

“fuck… baby,” he groans against your lips, voice cracking. “you are so warm… so soft… keep doing that.”

you grind down harder, desperate little humps against his length, the water making everything slick and easy. he helps you, big hands gripping your hips, guiding your movements while he kisses you deeper, tongue sliding against yours.

“that’s it… just like that,” he whispers between kisses, breath hot. “feels so good… you feel so good… my pretty girl…”

you are whimpering now, soft needy sounds spilling out every time your clit rubs against him through the swimsuit. he is panting, hips rocking up to meet yours, the friction making both of you shake.

“toni… i—i need—”

“i know angel… i know,” he murmurs, kissing your jaw, your neck, your collarbone. “just keep moving… use me… make yourself feel good on me…”

you grind faster, chasing the feeling, arms wrapped tight around his neck. he keeps one hand on your ass, the other sliding up your back to hold you closer, whispering praises between kisses.

“so cute… so needy… love how you sound… love how you move on me… my perfect baby…”

you cum with a broken whimper, thighs trembling around him, burying your face in his neck as waves of pleasure roll through you. he holds you through it, rocking you gently, kissing your hair and whispering “good girl… so good for me… love you… love you so much…”

when you finally stop shaking he pulls back just enough to look at you, eyes soft and dark at the same time, cheeks flushed, lips swollen.

“you okay?” he asks, voice hoarse.

you nod, still breathing hard, and hide your face in his chest. he chuckles softly, arms wrapping tighter around you.

“we should probably get out before we get pruny… but i do not want to let go yet.”

you smile against his skin. “then do not.”

“It’s cute,” Maya chimes in.

You groan and toss in your deodorant. “Fine. Just pack it for me.”

Harvey fist-pumps and folds the bikini with way too much care before tossing it into the duffel. “You’ll thank me later.”

Maya smiles a little through the screen, “Anton’s gonna love seeing you in that.”

Harvey freezes halfway through applying lip gloss and whips around. “Huh? Anton? As in Anton Anton?”

You let out a long sigh. “Maya…”

“Don’t look at me like that, you were gonna tell her eventually!” She defends.

Harvey blinks. “Wait, wait, wait. What’s going on with you and Anton?”

You drag a hand over your face. “Nothing…I just….”

Harvey’s eyes widen and she flops dramatically onto your bed. “Oh my Gosh! You like him.”

You nod and Maya cuts in. “She thinks she’s in love with him.”

Harvey gasps and stares at you in shock “Okay, well damn. That’s kind of huge.”

“I know.”

“Does he know?” Harvey asks.

Maya and you answer at the same time, Maya with a “Not yet,” and you with a “Absolutely not.”

“Okay. So what’s the plan? Are we confessing under the fireworks or..?” Harvey asks.

“I don’t know, I just…I don’t want things to change if he doesn’t feel the same.” You admit.

“They’ve already changed, babe,” Maya says gently.

Harvey nods. “For real. You can’t un-feel that.” She reaches for your hand and squeezes it. “Even on the off chance he doesn’t say it back, which I don’t think is the case, by the way. I don’t think he’d ever let that be the end of you two.”

You nod slowly, trying to believe it.

Maya checks the time. “Okay I gotta go, my aunt just called me down for dinner but text me the second anything happens.”

You nod and wave before ending the call. Harvey loops her arm through yours as you head for the door, the July heat already peeking through the windows.

The drive to Sungchan’s is a nice and much needed pick-me-up with Harvey hanging her arm out the window and drumming on the car door in time with the beat. You’ve got your sunglasses on, the cool air hitting your face and your favorite throwback playlist humming through the speakers. There’s glitter on Harvey’s collarbone and a watermelon lollipop sticking out of her mouth as she scrolls for the next song.

When she lands on Fergalicious, you both scream.

The chorus is still blasting when you turn the corner into Sungchan’s neighborhood. Cars are already lined up along the curb, a few people milling around their front yards, red solo cups in hand. You spot Sohee’s beat-up Civic in front of Sungchan’s mailbox and Anton’s Jeep parked a few houses down.

Harvey grins. “Ready?”

You nod as she kills the engine and toss your sunglasses into the glove compartment and grab your overnight bag from the back seat. You and Harvey walk up the pavement to Sungchan’s home and knock once before the door swings open immediately like Sungchan was already standing there. He’s in swim trunks and an open button-down that doesn’t even try to cover the tank top tan line across his chest.

“Well, if it isn’t my favorite losers,” He grins.

Sungchan steps aside with a dramatic bow. “Bathroom’s to the right if you wanna change. Everyone else is already out back. Guest room’s down the hall—leave your bags, I’ll toss ‘em in there.”

You hand over your duffel and raise a brow. “You sure?”

He waves you off. “Yeah. It’s clean-ish. My mom made me vacuum before they left.”

“Wait where are they?” Harvey asks.

“Family trip to Cabo,” he says, already heading down the hall with your stuff. “I bailed. Went for spring break, already met my yearly quota for family time.”

You nod slowly. “Fair enough.”

“Founding fathers would’ve wanted it this way,” he calls over his shoulder.

You and Harvey exchange a look then dart into separate bathrooms to change. You wiggle into the cherry bikini still regretting letting them convince you and smooth your sarong into place. The tile’s cool under your feet and you swipe on a little lip balm before heading out.

Harvey emerges a second later in her green bikini and white bucket hat. “We look hot.”

You adjust your sunglasses and smile. “Extremely.”

The two of you walk to the kitchen and push open the sliding door and step into the backyard. Music’s blasting, the smell of charcoal hangs in the air and the pool shimmers.

Sohee’s already floating on an inflatable donut sunglasses crooked on his face sipping something bright pink out of a mason jar.

Sungchan’s by the grill flipping burgers while Anton’s off to the side, lounging in a deck chair with a popsicle in hand and a baseball cap pulled low over his hair.

He looks up when you walk out and does a double-take but it’s fast. A blink and then he’s glancing away chewing the tip of his popsicle.

Sungchan turns and spots you both whistling low and smirking. “Mind doing a little turn for me princess?”

You laugh and flip him off without missing a beat.

Sohee salutes from the pool. “Happy red white and blue day, motherf—”

“Language!” Sungchan calls half-heartedly.

Sohee smirks and goes back to sipping his little pink drink without a care in the world. You make your way over to the deck chairs, dropping your towel on the one next to Anton’s and settling in with a stretch.

The two of you sit in comfortable silence for a moment, the sun warming your skin and the music spilling softly from the speakers behind you.

You scroll for a bit on your phone and respond to some texts, thumbs tapping out a lazy reply to Maya before locking your screen. You turn to face Anton’s who’s reclined back with his popsicle watching the clouds.

You smile to yourself and nudge his leg with your foot. “I’m gonna take a dip, join me?”

Anton turns his head toward you, eyes squinting just slightly from the sun. “In a bit.” he says waving his popsicle.

You nod and stand, stretching briefly before untying your sarong and draping it over the back of the chair. You don’t catch the way his gaze lingers on your body before flicking back up to the sky as he finishes the last bite of his popsicle.

You step down into the pool slowly letting the water hit your ankles then your knees then your waist before finally ducking under and coming back up and wiping away the water from your face.

A few minutes later you hear a splash and glance over to see Anton finally joining, shaking the water from his hair like a golden retriever. Harvey joins soon too, taking up space on Sohee’s floatie, he groans but shares anyway.

You’re floating nearby, content in the moment until a familiar voice cuts through the air.

“Cannonball!”

You barely have time to register the warning before Sungchan cannonballs directly into the deep end sending a wall of water in every direction.

You yelp as the splash hits you full-force. Sohee screams, Anton instinctively shields his face and ducks under the water while Harvey shrieks and is forced off the floatie and sent under.

Sungchan resurfaces with a triumphant grin only to be splashed in the face by Sohee, “you suck.” he says before swimming back in the direction of his floatie.

The next few minutes are loud and ridiculous. Everyone’s splashing each other, Sohee’s floatie somehow ends up out of the pool and Anton drifts over to your side just in time to pull you back from Harvey’s water bending.

You shriek, arms instinctively flying around his neck as he draws you close. Your legs wrap around his waist without thinking.

Before your heart can catch up Harvey’s yelling again. “Chicken! We’re playing chicken!”

You blink, startled and quickly loosen your arms from Anton’s neck, legs slipping free as you paddle back, suddenly hyper-aware of the way your skin had been pressed to his.

Sohee jumps out of the water and says’s he wants to ref, not trusting any of you to play fair. You half-heartedly laugh at that and push some water out of your face. You see both Anton and Sungchan start to swim in your direction and your heart stutters wondering if they both want to partner up.

Before Anton even gets the chance to ask you, Sungchan takes a hold of your arm and tugs you in his direction. “Partners?’ He asks with a small smile, you turn your head slightly to look at Anton who has stopped in his tracks, he purses his lips before turning to face Harvey and partners up with her.

You place your focus back on Sungchan and shrug. “Why not?”

He grins and dips lower in the water so you can climb onto his shoulders. You steady yourself with your hands on his head, adjusting your balance as he straightens up beneath you.

Across the pool, Harvey’s already settling on Anton’s shoulders tossing you a competitive look. “Hope you’re ready to eat chlorine.”

You snort. “Big talk from someone who just got bodied off a floatie five minutes ago.”

“Okay, okay!” Sohee calls from the edge of the pool, now sitting cross-legged with a new mason jar and a towel draped across his shoulders. “Enough trash talk, keep it civil.”

Sungchan shifts under you, trying to find his footing and nearly topples both of you before catching himself.

“Steady,” you hiss, holding tighter to his hair.

“Watch the hair! I don’t like it rough.” He says with a smirk. You roll your eyes but your grip softens.

Anton wades closer to the center of the pool with Harvey perched confidently above him, one hand already raised like she’s waiting for a bell to ring.

Sohee raises a pool noodle in the air dramatically. “Three…two…one—fight!”

You and Harvey each go for the other’s hands, water sloshing around you. Sungchan’s stance is unpredictable, trying his best to throw Harvey off but you’re the one wobbling.

“Focus,” he says under his breath, palms locked around your shins.

“I’m trying!”

Anton moves more smoothly. He doesn’t rush, his hands steady on Harvey’s legs, guiding without jerking, almost careful.

You catch it without really registering it, how gentle he’s being. How he’s not pushing as hard, not jostling or throwing Harvey into any aggressive lunges like Sungchan. He’s holding back. Just enough for you to notice but not enough to question it.

A second later, Sungchan pivots hard to the right and you knock into Harvey’s shoulder at just the right angle. She shrieks as she falls backward, arms flailing as she crashes into the water.

“Victory!” Sungchan yells, pumping a fist in the air and splashing wildly.

You cheer still clinging to his head, your heart pounding more from adrenaline than victory.

“Okay, okay,” you laugh, tapping his shoulder. “Let me down.”

He ducks beneath the surface and you slip off his back, landing in the water with a small splash.

“I’m gonna grab some food, want anything?”

“I’ll come with,” Sungchan offers casually, swimming over to the pool edge. You nod without thinking much of it, still catching your breath as you both climb out.

He throws an arm around your shoulder like it’s second nature and you let him, the sun warm on your skin as the two of you head toward the sliding door. You don’t see the way Anton watches, how his jaw ticks slightly and his tongue pokes the inside of his cheek. You don’t see him sigh and sink deeper into the pool, eyes lingering on the empty spot beside him.

The second your feet hit the kitchen tile Sungchan’s arm drops from your shoulder as he crosses to the counter and gets to work on stacking a burger “I’m starving,” he mutters, grabbing a paper plate.

You don’t say much at first, just drift toward the spread and grab a fruit cup and a paper towel. The counter’s cool beneath your fingertips as you lean against it, using the plastic fork to stab a piece of pineapple.

You glance over at Sungchan as he assembles his burger. He’s focused and humming something under his breath. For a second, you wonder if it’s worth bringing up. If maybe you’re reading too much into things but your mind drifts to moments you’ve shared with Sungchan and how much he’s come to mean to you these past few months, you don’t want to lose that. If there’s even the slightest chance Sungchan might feel something for you, you’d rather be honest now than risk hurting him later.

You clear your throat gently. “Hey…can I talk to you about something real quick?”

Sungchan doesn’t look up right away, just makes a noncommittal noise, still chewing as he moves on to squeezing ketchup onto his plate.

You pick at the fruit cup, shifting your weight. “I just wanna say…I really value our friendship. Like, a lot.”

That gets his attention. He finally looks over, curiosity and caution swimming in his eyes now.

“I know you’re kind of flirty with everyone and it’s not that I think you’re being serious or anything, but…just in case. I wanted to be clear that I don’t… feel that way. About you.”

He blinks once, then twice and then finally lets out a laugh. “Yeah. I know.”

You blink back. “You do?”

He nods, grabbing a pickle and takes a bite. “You’re not that hard to read, you know. I knew what this was from the start.”

You pause. “Okay, but if I ever gave you the wrong idea—”

“You didn’t. You’ve been real with me since day one. We’re cool.” He says genuinely.

You exhale slowly, your shoulders dropping a bit in relief. “Okay. Good. I just didn’t want there to be any confusion.”

“Nah,” he says with a grin, popping a chip in his mouth. “You’re not my type anyway. I like my women obsessed with me and not their best friend.”

You freeze, your fork pausing mid-air.

You don’t confirm it but you don’t deny it either. You just blink, lips parting slightly, caught off guard by how casually he says it. Like it’s obvious, like it’s always been obvious.

Instead, you ask, “Then why do you always flirt with me?”

Sungchan glances at you a little amused and reaches over to steal a grape from your cup. “Anton always gets so pouty, it’s quite cute honestly. Also made a bet with Sohee that he would crack first and confess before summer’s over…just trying to make sure I win.”

You scoff and swat his chest. “Okay first of all, you’re an ass and second, that’s a losing bet. Anton doesn’t feel that way.”

Sungchan just looks at you. He doesn’t roll his eyes or laugh it off. He just lifts his eyebrows slightly giving you a long stare. One that clearly says, “Sure. Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

You shift in place and glance down at your fruit cup, your appetite all but gone. With a quiet sigh you lean against the counter beside him, your arm brushing his as you rest your head on his shoulder.

“…Do you think we’d ever actually have a chance? Me and him?” You ask, barely above a whisper.

He doesn’t answer right away, just wipes a bit of mustard from his hand and tosses the napkin on the counter then, gently, “Yeah. I do.”

His arm comes around your waist, not in a flirtatious way but in the way someone hugs a friend who’s thinking too hard. You stay like that, tucked into his side appreciating the gesture and his warmth.

“Honestly? I knew there was something between you two during the first shift.”

You furrow your brows, he shrugs. “I don’t know. It was the way he’d stand closer than he needed to. Or how he always checked in with you, the attitude he caught with me for just talking to you during break.”

You stay quiet, chewing the inside of your cheek.

“But what really sealed it for me was the night we shared the edible at Sohee’s.” He continues.

You frown. “I barely remember anything. Just laughing and then waking up with marshmallows stuck to me.”

“Yeah that’s because you were super out of it. You were fine at first, all giggly laughing at Sohee’s dumb freestyles while trying to stack our phones on your head but then…I don’t know. Something shifted.”

You look up at him. “Shifted how?”

“You got quiet and curled up in the corner then outta nowhere you started crying. We all kinda froze. You kept mumbling something about missing Antoinette.”

You frown, confused for a second then groan. “Oh my gosh. Antoinette is my weighted dinosaur. He got it for me on my birthday…it helps with my anxiety.”

He nods like it makes perfect sense now. “Anyway you were starting to really spiral so Anton sat next to you and fed you snacks and made you sip water even though you kept saying it tasted like TV static. The marshmallows are because he handed you them and told you they were Antoinette’s cousins sent to keep you company.”

Your laugh slips out before you can stop it. “That is so humbling.”

Sungchan laughs with you. “You calmed down right after that. Fell asleep with the bag still in your arms. He didn’t even move until he was sure you were okay, I think he stayed up the rest of the night just watching you making sure you were warm and okay.”

You don’t say anything, just stare at the counter like maybe it’ll absorb your spiraling thoughts. You remembered that night as chaotic and blurry like one long confusing fever dream. You thought you’d just passed out. Thought the hoodie and marshmallows were some weird aftereffect of being too high but hearing it now how Anton stayed up with you and made sure you were okay…it just makes sense.

It was always going to be him, you were just too blind to see it before. You press your lips together, throat thick. Sungchan breaks the quiet, voice softer now. “We didn’t bring it up after because he asked us not to.”

Your head lifts slightly. “What? Why?”

He pulls you in closer. “He didn’t want you to be embarrassed, said if you didn’t remember it wasn’t worth making a big deal over.”

You groan, pressing your forehead to Sungchan’s shoulder. “He’s such a—” You don’t even have the words. “Why is he like this?”

Sungchan huffs a small laugh and shrugs, before anything else is said the sliding door opens. You glance up, eyes meeting Anton’s across the room. His expression freezes just slightly when he sees how close you and Sungchan are but he doesn’t say anything, just walks in, grabs a slice of pizza and heads back outside without a word.

Sungchan lets out a low whistle. “Yeah, that boy’s not subtle.”

You don’t respond, you just stare at the door he walked out of. You sigh and pull away. “We should probably head back out before anyone gets the wrong idea.”

“True, Anton’s probably already imagining our wedding.” He says with a grin, giving your shoulder a gentle nudge.

You roll your eyes but laugh anyway, swatting at his arm. “Shut up.”

He tosses his empty plate into the trash and you grab your half-finished fruit cup, the plastic lid tucked underneath. As you push the sliding door open, the warm air rushes in again, thick with chlorine and the low thrum of music still playing from the speaker.

Sohee’s back in the pool on a new floatie, drifting lazily across the surface like he’s a human raft. Harvey’s on a towel laid out across two lounge chairs, sunglasses on and enjoying a popsicle. Anton’s in the shallow end now, arms folded on the ledge watching something on his phone or pretending to at least.

You set your cup down on the patio table and sit back on your towel. Sungchan joins Sohee in the water. You look at Anton but he doesn’t look up once and even though you try not to care, something about that makes your chest feel a little too tight.

You try to push it down and join Sohee and Sungchan in the water to distract yourself. Harvey eventually gets up and cannonballs back into the pool, sending a wave splashing over Sohee’s floatie.

Sungchan swims over and splashes her in retaliation and before long, you’re back to a full blown splash-off with water flying, floaties being stolen and someone yelling about not getting their hair wet?

Anton stays near the edge, mostly quiet, half-heartedly flicking water at Sungchan when provoked but never really diving in. You catch him smiling once when Sohee imitates Katara from avatar but it fades quickly, his expression returning to something more neutral.

At one point Sungchan splashes you and you yelp, flicking water back at him with a grin. You look toward Anton instinctively, like maybe he’ll join in too but he’s already glanced away.

It feels off and you hate that you keep noticing.

Eventually, Sohee flops onto the ledge next to Anton and pushes his wet hair back. “Okay, I’m pruney as hell. Let’s move inside.”

Harvey cheers and climbs out of the pool wringing out her hair with a towel. Sungchan hoists himself out after her, grabbing a few cups and the now-empty chip bowl as he heads toward the door.

Anton pulls himself out last, not looking in your direction even once. You wrap your towel around your waist, heart heavy for reasons you don’t want to name and follow the others inside.

Once inside everyone splits off for a few minutes to change. You change quickly, pulling on a pair of shorts and a loose tank top over your swimsuit, towel-drying your hair before padding back into the living room barefoot.

When you return, Sohee’s already rearranged the space. The coffee table’s been pushed back and a makeshift beer pong setup is in the center of the room.

“Alright, listen up, we’re playing truth or dare beer pong. You miss your shot, you either answer a truth or do a dare. You make it? You pick someone else to drink.” Sohee says, clearly proud of himself as everyone starts to file back in.

Harvey frowns. “That’s evil.”

“Exactly. Ladies first.” Sohee grins and tosses her a ping pong ball.

Sungchan reemerges, flopping onto the carpet with his legs crossed and a towel still draped around his neck. You sit beside him and Anton takes the floor spot near Harvey without a word, fiddling with the edge of his sleeve.

Sohee claps his hands once. “Start!”

Harvey narrows her eyes in mock concentration, gripping the ball with both hands before dramatically exhaling. She throws and misses by a mile.

“Tragic,” Sohee mutters.

She groans and leans back on her hands. “Fine. Truth.”

Sohee grins. “Who in this room do you think would be the worst kisser?”

Harvey raises her brows. “Bold of you to assume I haven’t already sampled the selection.” You raise a brow at that, what else happened the night you guys took edibles?

Next up is Sohee. He lines up his shot and lands it, he points at Harvey. “Drink.” She narrows her eyes but takes it like a champ, tipping the cup back dramatically.

Sungchan’s next, he takes his time tongue poking the inside of his cheek as he aims then flicks the ball. It arcs, hits the rim and plops in the center. He sits back smugly and turns to look at you. “Drink up.” He says. You sigh but reach for the cup anyway and knock back the beer.

You try to focus as your turn comes up. You toss and miss, Sungchan grins. “Truth or dare?” he asks, bouncing the next ball in his palm.

“Truth.” You say simply, hoping to play it safe.

“What’s your biggest regret from this summer so far?” Sungchan asks from beside you.

Your mouth grows dry as you think of what to say. If you’re being honest, your biggest regret is that you realized it too late.

You regret how long it took you to see Anton clearly. Not just as the boy you grew up with or the friend who always kept your secrets but the person. The one who always waits for you to catch up, who buys your favorite snacks without being asked, who lets you borrow his hoodies and pretends not to notice when you keep them for weeks. The one who knows you and you regret not letting yourself feel what that could mean.

You regret not letting yourself explore it when you had the time. Before things got complicated, before the days started ticking down faster than you could hold onto them because if one things for sure, it’s that summer ends.

Soon you’ll pack up your things and return to campus. You’ll go back to walking the same halls you’ve walked a hundred times trying not to look for him in every room, you’ll go back to pretending you don’t want to marry him someday, pretending you could ever see anyone else fitting into your life the way he does.

Summer will end and it’ll end like this; Anton as still your childhood best friend, nothing more.

You could say all of that, could lay it bare in the middle of this beer pong game with half-wet hair and warm beer in plastic cups. You could finally say what’s been sitting heavy in your heart all summer but you don’t. You take the second route, the safe one. You lie.

You clear your throat and lean back on your palms, plastering on a smile. “Maybe that I didn’t finish my TVD rewatch. Was really hoping to make it to the Delena era.”

They laugh, Sohee calls you out on a cop out answer and Harvey tells him to shut up and just like that, the moment passes.

Anton goes next, he rolls the ping pong ball between his fingers for a second before tossing but it bounces off the rim and lands in Sohee’s lap. Sohee snorts and picks up the ping pong ball and tauntingly says, “miss!”

“Truth or dare?” You ask softly.

Anton leans back, resting on one hand. “Truth.”

You think for a moment, you don’t want to ask something meaningless, not with him. “If you could relive any moment from this summer, what would it be?”

Anton’s lips part like he might answer. He looks down at the cup in front of him, fingers tapping lightly against his knee but then wordlessly he reaches for the beer and drinks.

The group laughs or groans but your stomach drops. He didn’t answer. He didn’t even try to answer.

You try not to read into it but your thoughts race ahead anyway. What memory was too private to say out loud? What moment does he want to relive that badly and why didn’t he want anyone else to hear it? He’s hiding…just like you.

You shake your head as a new round starts, trying to remind yourself it’s just a game. Maybe he’s too sober and too aware.

The game continues with more laughs and jabs. Harvey’s dared to text her ex, Sohee’s forced to freestyle using random words everyone shouts at him, you somehow manage to land a shot on your next turn, making Sungchan drink and despite the rocky start, Anton proves to be an ace at the game, landing almost all of his shots and remaining the most sober out of all of you.

Eventually, it circles back to Sungchan. He misses not by much and flops dramatically onto his side.

“Truth or dare?” Harvey asks slyly.

“Truth,” Sungchan says without hesitation, sitting back up.

Harvey smirks, twirling the ping pong ball between her fingers. “If ____ gave you a chance, would you go for it?”

You look at her wide eyed and Sungchan’s eyes slide to you with a crooked smile tugging at his lips. “Why not?”

You laugh, more out of nerves than anything and wave him off. You know he doesn’t mean it, especially after that conversation in the kitchen. You just hope he doesn’t do or say anything stupid. “Okay, relax.”

Harvey, ever the instigator though, starts chanting. “Kiss, kiss, kiss—!”

Sohee joins in and suddenly all eyes are on you and Sungchan.

You roll your eyes. “What are we five?” You lean towards Harvey to collect the ball but then Sungchan leans forward and kisses you.

It’s quick, not deep, not showy just long enough to draw a reaction and short enough to leave you reeling. Out of sheer instinct you kiss back.

You hear Sohee and Harvey cheer and you quickly pull away. Sungchan just winks at you when you glare at him, clearly unbothered. You barely register his smirk, barely hear Harvey joking about a round two because your attention is solely on Anton.

Except Anton’s not looking at you. He’s looking straight ahead, jaw clenched so tight it looks painful, fingers wrapped around his water bottle like it’s the only thing keeping him grounded.

You open your mouth to say something but you don’t get the chance. He stands, not abruptly, not dramatically, just quiet and decisive like he’s made up his mind. He sets the bottle down gently and walks out of the room. No one says anything.

You’re on your feet before you realize you’ve moved, ignoring Sohee’s voice behind you cussing Sungchan out as you slip through the hallway and out the front door.

Anton’s already halfway down the front lawn, hands shoved into the pockets of his hoodie, moving like he has somewhere to be. Somewhere that isn’t here.

“Anton,” you call, heart thudding but he doesn’t stop.

You jog to catch up. “Anton, wait.”

He slows just enough for you to fall into step beside him but he doesn’t look at you.

“What was that?” you ask, breath catching. “You just…left.”

He exhales a shaky breath through his nose. “What do you want me to say?”

“I want you to talk to me! You’ve barely looked at me all night and then you just storm off without saying anything.” You say, your voice cracking.

He finally meets your eyes and the look he gives you is nothing like the Anton you know. It’s tight and guarded, like he’s trying not to fall apart right there on the lawn.

“You kissed him, you didn’t even hesitate.” He says quietly.

You feel your breath catch, like your lungs have forgotten how to work.

He shakes his head once, as if he’s trying to process it all over again. “Why was it so easy? Why him?” He asks, voice rising now.

“Anton—”

“No, seriously, Why him and not me?” He snaps, voice raw. Your mouth opens but nothing comes out. You’ve never seen him like this.

“I’ve been here,” he says, stepping closer, eyes burning. “I’ve always been here. You’ve known him for what? Two months and—”

He cuts himself off with a humorless laugh, brushing his fingers through his hair. “You kissed Sungchan. Like it was nothing. Like it didn’t mean anything, like I haven’t spent this whole summer trying not to fall apart every time you look at me like I’m just your friend!”

Your chest tightens.

“I thought maybe this would finally be the summer where it made sense. Where I could say something. Where you’d maybe look at me and see it.”

He looks at you glaring. “Do you want to know why I realy wanted to come back to the country club?”

You don’t answer. You can’t. Your throat’s too tight.

“I came back because I thought this summer was our last chance.”

Your stomach drops.

“Not because of the pay or the stupid slushies! This was it, the last time things could be the way they were. Before I’m knee-deep in med school applications and you’re halfway across the world…before everything changes.” He says quietly. He’s not yelling anymore but his words land heavier this way.

“I thought maybe we’d finally get it right. That if we went back to the place it all started…if we gave ourselves space to just be like we were when we were fourteen…maybe we wouldn’t miss it this time.”

He steps closer and it’s like the air shifts around you. “I’ve loved you for years, ____. Since before college, before Wonbin, before that stupid pinky promise you made me swear to keep.” He says, voice cracking now. 

Your breath stutters. Your eyes are already stinging.

“And tonight,” he says, shaking his head, “you kissed him. You didn’t even hesitate.” He swipes a hand down his face like he’s trying to scrub the image from his memory.

You open your mouth but close it soon after. What could you possibly say? How could you tell him you feel the same?

That Sungchan is just a friend, that the kiss meant nothing. That your heart didn’t flutter or race or ache the way it does when Anton so much as says your name. How could you be selfish and tell him you want him just as badly as he wants you?

You can’t.

Summer is ending. He said it himself, this was your last chance. The last moment to get it right and you missed it. You blink hard, trying to keep the tears at bay but it’s too late. They burn down your cheeks as your chest tightens around everything you won’t say.

It would be beyond selfish to ask for anything now. Not when your fall semester is stacked with back-to-back labs and your passport is already tucked into your nightstand waiting for your gap year to begin. Not when Anton has med school deadlines and a thousand things to focus on besides you.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you but Anton, we can’t—” you start but he cuts you off, not even giving you the chance to invalidate this.

“Don’t say that like this wasn’t real, like this wasn’t something,” he pleads.

You shake your head, overwhelmed. “Anton, we can’t—”

“When I think of my future,” he cuts in, voice trembling now, “you’re in every version of it.”

His tears finally fall but he doesn’t bother to wipe his own.

“I see us traveling. I see us moving in together after grad school, decorating some tiny overpriced apartment with too many plants. I see us getting married, buying a forever home. I see you…as the mother of my kids.” He chokes out.

Your legs actually give out on you and you have to take hold of Sungchan’s mailbox to not fall flat on your face.

“I don’t know how to unsee that,” he whispers. “I don’t know how to stop loving you. If it’s not you, it doesn’t make sense.”

Anton steps closer, eyes glossy and searching. “Just say it. Tell me you feel it too.”

You freeze, your breath caught in your throat.

“Please,” he whispers.

You want to. You want to because you do feel it. Every piece of what he’s described you see it too.

You see the cluttered apartment filled with love and memories. You see the holidays spent arguing over where to put the Christmas lights. You see a wedding and a life with him where everything makes sense. You see kids with his eyes and your laugh and family vacations in the summer. You see it all but not in this lifetime.

Not with the clock winding down on the only summer you’ve ever wanted to last forever.

So you say nothing. Not because it isn’t real but because it’s too real. Too big. Too late.

He takes your silence like a punch to the gut nodding slowly, jaw clenched. “Okay, that’s my answer.” He says hollowly, stepping back.

You shake your head, a sob caught somewhere behind your teeth. “Anton, wait—” You call for him but he’s already walking away and this time, he doesn’t look back.

July 11th, 2025

You haven’t gone back to work.

The thought of clocking in and possibly seeing Anton makes your stomach twist in ways you don’t know how to untangle so you’ve stayed home. Ignored the group chat and let your shifts get quietly reassigned. No one’s said anything at least not directly but you’ve seen the unread messages pile up.

The sun’s starting to dip when your phone buzzes with an incoming call. You don’t even check the screen. You already know who it is.

You answer on the third ring, pressing the phone to your ear as you curl deeper into your sheets.

“Hey,” you murmur.

There’s silence for a beat then Maya’s voice cuts through the line. “You’re really not gonna tell me what happened?”

Your throat tightens. You stare up at the ceiling watching shadows shift across the plaster.

“Maya, I can’t—” you start but she cuts you off.

“—Yes, you can. I’ve let you spiral for a week. I’ve kept quiet but babe I’m running out of patience and you’re running out of time. Talk to me.”

You suck in a breath and finally let it out slowly. “He told me he loved me.”

You can hear the shift in her tone immediately. “And?”

You close your eyes. “And I didn’t say anything.”

A beat of silence.

“Maya…I froze. I just stood there like an idiot and said nothing. What was I supposed to say?”

“Literally anything?” she says, incredulously.

You sit up, heart pounding. “I didn’t want to be selfish.”

Maya’s quiet for a second then she says, “____, not saying anything was the selfish part.”

Your breath catches.

“You took away his choice. You decided for both of you that it wasn’t possible. You didn’t even give him the chance.”

The line goes quiet again, the weight of her words sinking in.

“I thought I was doing the right thing,” you whisper.

“I know you did but you hurt him and now you’re hurting too.” She replies.

You lie back down, phone still pressed to your ear and let the silence stretch long between you. Outside, a plane flies low overhead. You close your eyes and wish it were enough to drown out the ache.

July 18th, 2025

You’ve been in the same spot on the couch for hours.

A movie plays on the TV but you’ve barely absorbed any of it. Your mom sits at the other end, folding laundry with half her attention on the screen and the other half on you. She hasn’t said anything yet, just glances over every so often like she’s trying to find the right words. You haven’t given her much to work with.

You sip from a cup of lukewarm tea, the one she made without asking and tuck your feet under the blanket stretched over your lap.

She finally breaks the silence. “So…are we gonna talk about it? Or are we still pretending it’s just PMS?”

You blink, turning slowly to look at her. “What?”

She raises an eyebrow. “You’ve been home for almost two weeks and you haven’t once mentioned work…or Anton.”

You freeze.

“I don’t want to push but it’s starting to feel like you’re hiding out.” She continues, gentler now.

You don’t respond, not directly. Just look down at your tea and pretend to be really interested in the ceramic pattern of the mug.

She sighs. “Okay. Just know I’m here when you’re ready.”

You nod, still quiet. She reaches for the remote and turns up the volume slightly. The sound of canned laughter fills the room. That’s when your phone buzzes against your thigh.

You check it without much thought and see Sungchan’s name.

1:00 pm | sungchan 🐸: hey. 1:10 pm | sungchan 🐸: i know i probably should’ve said something sooner but 1:10 pm | sungchan 🐸: i’m sorry for the kiss. 1:11 pm | sungchan 🐸: i got caught up in the moment and was thinking about the bet…it was stupid and selfish, i’m sorry 1:11 pm | sungchan 🐸: just wanted to clear the air 1:12 pm | sungchan 🐸: also update you probably don’t want but 1:12 pm | sungchan 🐸: he’s still coming in for shifts. won’t talk to me though. checks in with harvey about you sometimes. 1:13 pm | sungchan 🐸: misses you, even if he won’t say it. 1:13 pm | sungchan 🐸: just thought you should know.

You reread the messages three times. Your throat tightens even more after each read. Your mom glances over again and sees the shift in your expression but doesn’t ask. Your fingers hover over your phone as you type out a reply.

1:30 pm | you: thanks for saying that. 1:30 pm | you: and it’s okay. i know it wasn’t meant to be a thing 1:31 pm | you: i’m not mad at you. 1:31 pm | you: i just wish things were different

You turn your phone face down and lean back against the couch, eyes stinging. You don’t cry. Not today but you let the discomfort stay.

July 20th, 2025

The door bursts open before you can even pretend to be asleep.

“____.”

You flinch slightly at the sharpness in your mom’s voice. She stands in the doorway with one hand on her hip, eyes scanning the state of your room, dim and cluttered. You’re curled on your side, blanket halfway pulled over your head, a movie paused on your laptop and your untouched water bottle sweating on the nightstand.

“You’ve barely left this room in days. What’s going on?”

You try to brush it off. “I’m just tired.”

She raises an eyebrow. “Tired? Or avoiding something?”

You swallow hard and look down. It’s been over two weeks. Two weeks of silence, of dodging the group chat, of skipping shifts at the country club. Two weeks of not speaking to Anton.

Your mom steps further in and sits at the edge of your bed like she used to when you were little. “Did something happen?”

The tears come faster than expected.

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. “I think I ruined everything.”

You tell her the whole story. As much as you can manage between shaky exhales and thumb-picking. The dance, the kiss, the fight. The way Anton looked so heartbroken.

When you finish, she’s quiet for a beat. Then, carefully, “Do you love him?”

You don’t hesitate. “Yeah. I do.”

She sighs, reaching out to squeeze your hand. “Then tell him.”

“I can’t.” You shake your head. “I hurt him and the timing is all wrong. We’re leaving soon.”

She softly caresses your cheek. “Baby love was never meant to fit into a timeline. It’s not something that’s meant to be perfect.”

You blink back fresh tears.

“I’m not saying call him right this second but don’t let silence be your answer. You don’t want to live with ‘what ifs.’”

You nod slowly. “I’ll think about it.”

She kisses your forehead “Thinking’s a start.”

When she leaves the room you stay seated on your bed staring at the spot where your phone charges. You’re not ready yet but maybe soon.

August 3rd, 2025

​​You’re lying on your floor with a pillow tucked under your stomach and your phone playing an old K-drama you’ve seen a dozen times while you munch away on some veggie chips. You haven’t done much today, you finally got around to putting your laundry away but that’s about it.

When the doorbell rings, you don’t move at first. You wait to see if someone else will answer it but no one does.

You pause the show, drag yourself to your feet and shuffle downstairs in the same hoodie you’ve been wearing for two days, Anton’s. You open the door, expecting maybe a package or a neighbor only to be met with the man of the hour himself, Anton.

He looks just as surprised to see you as you are to see him.

His posture shifts immediately, his hand flexes around a plain brown paper bag and his jaw tightens as his eyes flicker up to meet yours.

“Oh. I thought…I figured your mom would answer.” He says, voice stiff.

You don’t say anything. You can’t.

He clears his throat, eyes darting somewhere over your shoulder. “I just came to drop these off.” He lifts the bag slightly like it’s proof.

Still, you can’t move. Can’t look away. You thought you were prepared for this for seeing him again but you’re not.

He shifts his weight. “That’s all.”

He doesn’t wait for you to respond. Just gently places the bag on the doormat and takes a step back.

“Bye, ____” he says softly.

You whisper his name, barely audible but he doesn’t stop. He’s already retreating down the steps and toward his car. You stay there, frozen in the doorway as he pulls out, not once looking back.

You eventually pick up the bag and close the door just to sink to the floor with the bag in your lap.

You open it and find that inside are the photo booth strips.

You smooth out the top strip. It’s the one with all of you: Sohee making a face, Sungchan mid-blink, Harvey grinning wide, Anton reaching over to squeeze your cheek as you pretend to scowl.

But the second strip makes your breath catch. Just you and him. You’re laughing in every frame and Anton is watching you in almost all of them.

There’s a sticky note tucked in the corner. His handwriting is careful, slanted just slightly like it always is.

this summer still meant something.

You press the strips against your chest and shut your eyes tight.

August 10th, 2025

You hesitate outside the staff entrance longer than you mean to, fingers twisting the hem of your shirt like it might give you courage. It’s been over a month since your last shift and just standing here makes your chest ache. The door squeaks when you push it open.

Inside, it smells the same; chlorine and sunscreen. You walk in slowly, heart hammering, unsure of what you’ll find but the moment Sohee spots you from his seat he lets out a dramatic gasp.

“No way. Look who’s alive.”

You roll your eyes but there’s a small smile tugging at your lips. Harvey practically tackles you in a hug before you can respond.

“We missed you,” she says. “I missed you. Work’s been so boring.”

Sungchan peeks over from the microwave. “You’re late but I'll allow it. Welcome back.” He teases.

You thank him quietly, the warmth of their welcome easing some of the tension in your shoulders until your eyes meet Anton’s.

He’s sitting off to the side by himself tapping aimlessly on his phone. His expression doesn’t shift. He gives you a nod politely but nothing more and looks away just as fast.

Your throat tightens but you say nothing. Just walk past him and clock in like you’re not silently crumbling inside.

The day passes quietly. Anton barely speaks to you, he only speaks to you unless it’s absolutely necessary. No jokes. No lingering glances only offering the occasional “you’re on towel duty” or “cover me for break?” You keep your distance, folding towels beside Harvey and watching Sungchan argue with a kid about the height requirement for the pool.

It’s almost worse than if he’d ignored you completely.

By the time your shift ends everyone’s lingering outside by the staff parking lot, too tired to rush home but not ready to say goodbye.

Sohee’s the first to speak, tossing his half-empty water bottle in the air. “Okay, I’m calling it. We need one last hangout before the summer ends.”

Harvey perks up from where she’s crouched, re-tying her shoelace. “Bonfire at my place? The lakehouse is free next weekend.”

Sungchan nods. “I’m in.”

Sohee smiles. “I’m so down.”

Harvey looks over at you, hopeful. “You’re coming, right?”

You pause. You struggled to make it through your shift, the idea of spending a whole night with everyone again…especially Anton, makes your stomach turn.

“I don’t know…” you murmur.

Harvey doesn’t back down. “Come on. This is it. Sohee leaves for Cali in two weeks, Sungchan’s off to Rutgers, you and Anton are back at Northeastern and I’ve got to go back to Brown. It’s now or never.”

You hesitate not sure but just then Anton who’s been silent this whole time, fidgeting with his car keys says quietly, “I’ll go.”

You glance at him startled. He doesn’t look at you though, doesn’t look at anyone really. Just pockets his keys and walks to his car.

Sohee blinks. “Well…okay. Didn’t expect that.”

You exhale, heart thudding. “I’ll go too.”

Harvey grins, satisfied. “Saturday the 17th. No flaking!”

Everyone agrees, tossing out snack ideas and playlist demands as you all trickle toward your cars.

This is it you think to yourself. One last night, one last chance. The countdown begins.

August 17th, 2025

A week has come and gone and just like that it’s the day of the lakehouse hang out. You’re currently in your room packing the last of your things: sunscreen, a half-full bottle of body spray, the polaroid Anton gave you last Christmas that you almost forgot about.

The bag’s a little overstuffed, the zipper stubborn but you manage to wrangle it shut. You pause for a second staring down at it, heart beating a little too fast.

You’ve been turning this day over in your head since the second the plans were finalized. At first the idea of being in the same house as Anton for a whole three days felt unbearable. You’d even called Maya asking if maybe it would be better to stay home.

“Stay home and you’re not allowed to move back into the dorms.” She said before going on to give you advice on how to approach Anton, she told you to corner him and just confess.

Your mom had different advice though. She told you to show him. “That boy has been pouring himself into you for years. Maybe it’s time you return the favor.”

You’re not sure how it’ll go. You don’t know if you’ll get the timing right or if you’ll stumble over your words. You don’t even know if he still wants this but you do know you can’t walk away without trying. Not again.

You grab your phone, charger and the pack of sour patch kids you were instructed to buy and chuck them into your tote and sling your bag over your shoulder just as Harvey honks from outside.

“Bye, Mom! Bye Dad!” you call as you race down the stairs.

Your mom pokes her head out from the kitchen. “Have fun! Be safe! And don’t forget, acts of service!”

You smile at her words then head out the door. Harvey honks again just as you step out onto the porch, duffel slung over your shoulder and your tote bag digging slightly into your arm. She waves when she spots you, sunglasses perched on her head and an open Red Bull in the cupholder.

You toss your bag in the backseat and climb in beside Harvey, the leather warm from the sun. She’s already queuing up the playlist you made together last night, twizzlers clamped between her teeth.

“Ready?” she asks, pulling out of your driveway.

You nod, tugging your seatbelt across your chest. “Let’s do this.” The car rumbles to life as she shifts the gear stick into drive.

A few minutes pass in a comfortable silence with the windows cracked before Harvey speaks. “Oh, by the way I gave Sungchan the lakehouse keys yesterday. Figured the guys could leave early to set up.”

You hum and scroll on your phone, “makes sense. Are they there now?”

She nods as she takes a turn. “Yup!”

You lean your head back against the seat and glance out the window as familiar streets pass by. Harvey hums along to the music, one hand on the wheel the other tapping her knee in rhythm.

“So…is it still weird with Anton?”

You blink slowly, still watching the trees blur past your window. “Yeah…I mean, we don’t really talk anymore. Not really.”

Harvey glances at you briefly then back at the road. “You think it’ll stay like that?”

You shrug, pulling your knees up slightly onto the seat. “I don’t know. I don’t want it to. I keep thinking if I just say the right thing or make the right move, maybe it’ll fix something, but…I don’t even know where to start.”

Harvey doesn’t respond right away. She taps her fingers on the steering wheel, waiting until she’s merged back onto the main road before glancing at you again. “It’s Anton, he’ll appreciate anything as long as it comes from you.”

You glance over at her skeptical. “You think?”

She nods, eyes fixed on the road. “He still asks about you, you know? Not all the time but he asks about the little things. If you’re eating, sleeping. If you’re okay. Things like that.”

Your throat tightens. “He does?”

“Yeah,” she says, quieter now. “He’s not gonna stay mad forever. He’s just…waiting. Waiting to know if you want this too.”

You stare down at your hands, fingers fiddling with the hem of your baby tee. “I do,” you whisper.

Harvey smiles softly. “Then tell him. Or show him. I dunno, either way, you’ve got this.”

The car rolls to a stop at a flashing yellow light, the lake shimmering just ahead in the distance. “Plus Sungchan and I are playing wingman this trip to make up for the kiss…” She continues.

You snort, adjusting your seat belt. “There’s no need. Seriously, all is forgiven.”

Harvey gives you a look. “It’s the least we can do, we practically started this.”

You crack a small smile. “Yeah, well you’re both forgiven. I swear.”

She hums but doesn’t drop it. “Even so, I can’t let the summer end with you and Anton not being together. That just feels wrong.”

You raise a brow. “It’s not that simple, Harv.”

“It kinda is. From the first shift I knew you guys were more than friends. You two just make sense.” She says with a shrug.

You feel the smile creep back up your face but say nothing in response. Harvey nudges your arm lightly as she turns into the long gravel driveway. “You’ve got all of tonight, we gotta make something shake.”

The gravel crunches under Harvey’s tires as she pulls into the driveway, tall trees casting long shadows over the lakehouse. It’s quiet except for the gentle chirp of cicadas and the base of the three men leaking from inside the house. Sungchan’s SUV is already parked off to the side, Anton’s jeep right next to it with both back doors flung open like they’d been in a rush.

Harvey shifts into park. “Home sweet lakehouse.”

You push your door open and hop out, grabbing your tote bag while Harvey takes your duffel from the backseat.

“You ready?” she asks, already halfway up the porch steps.

You nod. “As I’ll ever be.”

She shoots you a quick smile. “That’s the spirit.” Your sneakers crunch softly on the gravel as you and Harvey head toward the porch.

Sohee’s the first to greet you, tossing an empty can into the recycling bin. “Welcome ladies.”

Sungchan appears behind him, tucking his phone into his back pocket. “Perfect timing, we just finished with groceries.”

Anton rounds the corner a second later, sleeves pushed to his elbows and an empty reusable bag slung over one arm. His steps slow when he sees you but he doesn’t stop. Just gives you a small nod.

“Hey,” he says.

“Hey,” you echo, your grip tightening slightly on the strap of your tote.

There’s a pause, not uncomfortable but not quite normal either. Sungchan claps his hands together and steps into the center of the porch breaking the silent staredwon. “Alright, housekeeping! There are four rooms and five of us. One of them has bunk beds which means someone’s doubling up.”

Harvey raises a brow. “Don’t I get first pick? My parents’ house, my rules.”

Sungchan nods. “Of course. Harv gets the queen suite which means the rest of us are playing rock paper scissors for the good ones.”

You glance at Anton who’s already stepping into the circle near the porch railing with his shoulders slouched like a man heading into battle he knows he won’t win. His hands are stuffed into the pocket of his shorts, thumb tapping absently against the seam.

Anton is historically almost comically bad at rock-paper-scissors.

Freshman year, he lost a bet and had to eat wasabi straight up from the Japanese resturant Maya took you guys to. Sophomore year, he lost his turn to control the aux cord for an entire month. Even at work, when someone calls for a quick round to decide who covers bathroom cleanup, Anton’s basically guaranteed to lose.

It’s not even bad luck. He’s just predictable, he always starts with rock.

You fall into step beside the others, heart thudding. Sungchan’s grinning like he’s entering a boxing match, Sohee’s already trash-talking no one in particular and Anton…Anton just looks resigned.

Acts of service, your mom said. He’s always done them for you. Maybe it’s time you return the favor.

It’s a small thing, a stupid game but if you can win this you can hand over the best room without making it a big deal. It’ll be a start, something that says I’m trying. I remember too.

You stretch your fingers out slowly, roll your shoulders once and take your spot in the circle. Sungchan claps his hands together. “Alright. Bunk beds go to the two losers. Everyone ready?” You nod, eyes trained on Anton as he exhales a slow breath.

“Rock…paper…scissors…shoot!”

You throw scissors, Anton throws rock, Sungchan and Sohee both throw paper. You blink.

You won.

Anton looks mildly confused for a second, already stepping back like he expects to be sent to the bunk bed but you clear your throat and speak before he can say anything. “You can have my pick.”

He stops mid-step and turns to face you. “What?”

“You hate bunk beds, take the good room.” You say, tone light but sure.

He watches you for a second too long, like he’s waiting for the catch. You don’t give him one though.

A quiet snort comes from Sohee as he mumbles “simp” and Harvey throws you a glance but says nothing, just lifts a brow slightly before heading for the stairs.

Anton blinks then slowly he smiles. It’s small but real, familiar. “Thanks,” he says softly.

You nod and he disappears down the hall with his duffel, falling into step behind Harvey.

Sohee whistles low. “Okay, rock-paper-scissors for the other one then?” He turns to Sungchan who doesn’t even respond—just claps a hand on his shoulder and steers him away towards the room with the bunk beds.

You let out a small breath and glance at the empty hallway, your fingers still curled around your bag strap. Anton smiled at you.

It felt good, doing something for him. Just a small thing but maybe your mom was right. Maybe this is how you start to show him he’s always been worth it.

You let out the breath you didn’t know you were holding and finally start walking in the direction of the bedrooms. When you step into your room you note that it’s smaller than you expected, just a twin bed, a dresser and a window cracked open to let in the breeze from the lake. You drop your bag on the mattress and sit beside it, running a hand over the comforter.

You take a deep breath and unzip your bag pulling out your items. You line up your toiletries in the corner of the dresser and place your polaroid on the windowsill. 

You take a moment to examine the camera, you had complained for ages about wanting one your freshman year of college but your parents thought it would be a waste and that you wouldn’t really use it. You remember complaining to Anton in passing about how annoyed you were about not having one he didn’t say much in response (he was busy studying for his a&p final) but that Christmas you guys had done secret Santa with his friend Shotaro and Maya’s then boyfriend Seunghan. Anton didn’t pull your name, in fact he got Maya but he still gifted you the camera along with his gift for Maya.

It wasn’t weird to gift each other things during the holidays but that year you had blown through all your cash on rave tickets and uber eats, you had to dip into your savings to cover the Basketball tickets you got Seunghan so you and Anton agreed on no gifts that year. He of course didn’t listen. The camera feels like something sacred, like it’s proof that he’s always been paying attention.

The thing is so have you. Maybe not in the ways that count, maybe not when it mattered most but you’ve always been watching too. ​​You know he reads the last page of a book before he decides to commit, that he hums when he’s focused and that he can’t fall asleep unless the room is cold, even in winter.

Words have failed you before, choked in your throat when he needed them most so this time you’ll show him instead. With the small things. The way he always shows you.

Before your thoughts can stray further, a burst of laughter carries through the window. You stand and move towards it. Through the trees you spot the others outside, Sohee is running barefoot with a towel over his shoulders, Sungchan’s hauling out a cooler and Anton’s stretching out on the grass near one of the patio chairs with Harvey, heads tilted back squinting up at the sky.

You smooth out your baby tee and slip on your sandals before heading outback to join them. You cross the grass slowly, squinting against the sun and take a seat beside Harvey and Anton brushing grass off your shorts as you sit. Anton shifts slightly to make space but doesn’t say anything.

You glance at Harvey unsure of how to read the silence but she only shrugs. “I’m gonna grab my sunscreen, be back in a sec.” She says as she pushes up to her feet and dusts her hands on her thighs. 

You nod, watching her go and then glance up at the sky as if it’ll give you something to say. It doesn’t. You try anyway.

“That one looks like a rabbit. With, like…cowboy boots on.”

Anton hums beside you, noncommittal. His sunglasses hide most of his expression but you can see the corner of his mouth twitch so you decide to try again.

“Do you see it?”

He exhales slowly. “Kind of.”

It’s quiet again.

You sigh and glance toward Sohee who’s crouched at the cooler pulling out a few drinks. Anton notices too and calls out casually, “Toss me one?”

Sohee hums, grabs one at random and chucks it toward him. Anton catches it without looking, already popping the tab with his thumb.

Your eyes flick to the label. Passionfruit. Your stomach twists.

It only happened once years ago. The two of you were ten sitting poolside at Anton’s cousin’s graduation cookout when Anton reached for a popsicle from the cooler without checking the flavor. Twenty minutes later he was doubled over on the grass, his lips swelling and throat tightening barely able to breathe while everyone around you panicked.

It was the first time you saw fear on his face.

You remember his mom’s shaking hands as she stabbed the Epipen into his thigh, the ride to the ER, the way Anton tried to crack a joke through the oxygen mask like it wasn’t that big a deal but it was, it was terrifying.

You never forgot.

After that, you started keeping mental notes. Not just passionfruit but dog-hair, pollen, random tree nuts. Even the specific brand of protein powder that gave him a rash once during sophomore year.

Your body moves before your brain finishes processing and you swat the can from his hand, the aluminum clattering to the grass.

Anton jolts. “What the hell?”

Sohee blinks. “Dude?”

You’re already reaching down to pick up the bottle to take it far far away from Anton. “Sorry! Sorry! it’s just it’s passionfruit.”

Anton furrows his brow.

“You’re allergic,” you say softly, smoothing your palm nervously over your leg.

Anton stares at you for a second, then down at the can like it burned him. “Oh.”

Sohee mumbles, “Sorry man I didn’t know,” and goes back to rummaging through the cooler like nothing happened.

You push up to your feet. “I’ll get you something else.”

You walk over to the cooler and hand Sohee the can ignoring how your cheeks burn as you dig out a can of coke. When you return Anton’s still sitting there, slightly stiff but not as tense.

You hold the can out. “Here. You like coke, right?”

His lips part like he might say something but he just takes it with a quiet, “Yeah. Thanks.”

You nod and start to sit back down but before you do, he’s already standing. He calls out to Sohee and says something about filling up the water guns and jogs off.

You let yourself sink into the grass again, alone this time. You purse your lips, at least he took the coke.

You stay there in the grass for a while, legs stretched out and fingers absently tugging at a stray thread on your shorts. You watch Anton and Sohee fill up water balloons while Sungchan works on grilling the meat for later. You’re just starting to space out again when the back door swings open with a bang. You look up in time to see Harvey ginning like a maniac holding one of the water guns Anton had filled.

“Don’t scream,” she says and then immediately blasts you in the chest with freezing cold water.

You shriek, instinctively curling in on yourself. “What the hell!?”

She's already halfway across the lawn, cackling as she aims at Sohee next, catching him right in the back. He screams loud enough to startle birds out of the tree.

“You’re so dead,” you shout, pushing up from the grass and chasing after her only to get hit again mid-run but by Sohee this time.

Sungchan groans and throws the grill lid over the skewers. “So immature!” but he’s already jogging toward the cooler, yanking it open and grabbing two of the bigger water guns plus a few half-filled balloons.

“Come on,” he calls while tossing one of the guns your way.

You catch it without thinking and duck behind the patio chair again for cover. Water drips from your shirt sticking to your skin but you’re grinning now.

Across the yard, Sohee’s yelling something about revenge while Harvey darts behind a tree laughing so hard she almost drops her gun.

You wait until Sohee’s distracted reloading then pop up and blast him in the side. He yelps and whirls around, slipping a little in the grass “Really? You wanna start this?” He shouts already aiming his gun right at you but before he can spray you back a water balloon nails him square in the chest courtesy of Sungchan.

Sohee lets out a choked scream. “Oh, you’re both dead.”

You don’t wait to see what happens next. You break into a sprint bolting across the lawn until you catch Harvey still hiding behind the tree. She shrieks when she sees you coming but you’ve already got the shot.

“Ah! Okay! Okay!” She yells.

You whip around just in time to see Anton sneaking up behind Sungchan with the water hose. You catch his eye and toss him a nod, circling wide while he creeps closer.

“Now!” You shout, Anton raises the hose and sprays down Sungchan while you pump the last of your water gun. Sungchan doesn’t stand a chance.

He stands there dripping, head low as he takes the beating. “The irony,” He says dryly. You snort at that, Anton’s laughing too, shaking water from his curls. It’s the first time in weeks it feels like you’re all just…okay. Like it’s June again and you’re all still figuring each other out.

You look over at Anton just as the thought crosses your mind but get snapped out of it when Sohee throws a balloon directly at your face.

You gasp, stumbling back as water drips down your chin.

“Jimmy Lee!” You shout.

He’s already sprinting across the lawn. You charge after him soaked and grinning, shouting his name while the others cheer you on.

The water balloon fight doesn’t last for much longer after that, soon everyone collapses across the lawn in soaked heaps.

Sohee’s sprawled on the grass groaning dramatically while thumbing at his ear. “I can hear my heartbeat,” he mutters.

Harvey’s lying next to him cackling and kicking her legs like a kid. Sungchan and Anton are off to the side, sitting shoulder to shoulder on the deck steps both still dripping as they laugh at something you can’t hear. It’s nice seeing them like that again.

Your gaze flicks to the folded stack of towels near the cooler. You grab one without thinking. You shake it out as you walk towards the pair, still damp yourself with the ends of your shorts clinging to your thighs. The grass squishes under your feet, warm and wet.

Anton notices you first, his laughter fades just slightly as his eyes catch on the towel in your hands. You don’t say anything, just offer it out to him.

He blinks once then just stares at the towel. He doesn’t move to take it, just looks at it then up at you like he’s trying to figure out if this means something.

It’s quiet for a beat too long so you clear your throat and say softly, “I didn’t want you to catch a cold.” That seems to pull him back. His fingers curl around the towel and he finally takes it.

You give a quick nod and turn before he can say anything. 

You grab another towel from the pile and press it to your arms drying off slowly as you stand on the deck.

Harvey’s the first to break the silence. “I’m starving. Did you ever finish grilling, Sungchan?”

Sungchan stretches “Yeah. Should still be warm but we should probably rinse off and clean up before dinner, though.”

That sets everyone in motion. Sohee groans as he rolls onto his stomach, mumbling something about needing a nap then slowly starts pushing himself up.

You fall into step with them as you all head inside, breaking off one by one to your rooms to shower and change.

You take your time rinsing off in your bathroom. When you’re done you wrap your hair in a towel and change into the sundress you packed, it’s light yellow with little white flowers lining the hem. You even do your makeup, soft and simple with a little mascara, blush and a bit of gloss.

You head downstairs and find Sungchan and Sohee curled up on opposite ends of the couch shouting at a soccer match like they’re coaching from the sidelines. Sungchan’s yelling something about offside; Sohee throws a pillow at him and yells louder. You don’t even try to follow what’s happening.

Harvey’s in the kitchen, humming to herself as she stacks food on her plate. She’s wearing a bubble skirt and a sleeveless hot pink top with her hair clipped up and gold hoops. When you enter the kitchen she lights up instantly.

“You look so cute!” she says, handing you a plate.

You glance down at your dress and offer a small smile. “Thanks. Have you seen Anton?”

Harvey shakes her head. “Mm-mm. Probably still getting ready.”

You nod, eyes flicking toward the hallway. Harvey leans her hip against the counter and eyes you for a beat. “How’s it going?”

You shift the plate in your hands. “Not much progress but it seems better than before. Kind of.” You admit.

She bites into a piece of steak then bumps your shoulder gently with hers. “You two will work it out, he just needs a minute.” She says.

Then she pushes off the counter and walks off toward the living room, calling out something to Sohee as she flops onto the armchair with her food. You’re left standing there in the kitchen, your stomach suddenly tight even though you haven’t eaten all day.

You glance down at your plate and start building it with steak, rice, two sausages, some salad, a slice of sourdough and some sauces. You’re just about to grab a fork when you hear footsteps.

Anton rounds the corner, hair dry and the sleeves of his oversized white pullover pushed up to his elbows.

He walks over slowly, gaze flicking from you to the counter then back. Before he can grab a plate though, you hold out the one in your hands.

“I made you one, didn’t want it to get cold.” You say, trying not to sound too eager.

He looks at the plate then at you. His brows draw together. “I can make my own,” he says flatly. 

You keep your hand out. “I know but I already put your favorites on it,” you say, voice soft. “Don’t want it to go to waste, right?”

There’s a beat of silence where you think he might reject you but instead, he takes the plate with a short huff of breath and a quiet, “Thanks.”

He doesn’t meet your eyes as he turns and walks toward the others.

You exhale slowly and grab another plate for yourself. You move on autopilot, stacking a bit of everything. Once your plate’s done you carry it into the living room and settle into the open end of the couch.

Sungchan has switched the TV to a Marvel movie now, one of the older ones and the opening scene is already playing. Harvey tosses a comment over her shoulder about being bored already and Sohee launches into a whole rant as he balances his plate on his knees.

Anton doesn’t say much. He’s sitting at the far end of the couch, eyes on the screen and plate resting in his lap. He eats slowly, mechanically, like his mind’s somewhere else.

You say nothing and pick at your food, maybe acts aren’t enough.

___

The movie ends before you even realize it, the screen fading to black as the credits roll and Sohee groans something about it being mid. Dinner’s long been finished with plates cleared and drinks watered down.

Sungchan stretches with a dramatic yawn and claps his hands once. “Alright bonfire time.”

Harvey perks up immediately. “Finally! Help me bring out the s’mores stuff.” She says, already on her feet grabbing your wrists.

Sohee mumbles something about needing to piss and disappears down the hall. Sungchan nods toward the patio. “I’ll get the wood ready with Anton.”

You follow Harvey into the kitchen and grab all the items needed before heading out back with arms full of marshmallows and graham crackers.

You walk with her toward the firepit but your eyes keep drifting toward the edge of the yard where Anton and Sungchan are dragging over logs.

It stings. Anton’s barely spoken to you and yet somehow he’s fine talking to Sungchan. He kissed you, not the other way around and yet it’s you Anton can’t even look at.

You blink hard and keep moving.

You were supposed to spend this summer side by side. One last stretch of borrowed time before everything changed—before grad school and a gap year. It was meant to be late nights and dumb inside jokes and off guard point fives. Not this. Not silence and walking on eggshells around the person who used to know you best.

You’d promised yourself you’d fix it. That today would be the start, that maybe if you showed him it would be enough.

So you made sure he got the best room. Switched out the soda he’s allergic to while no one else seemed to care. Made sure he got the first towel because you knew he wouldn’t grab it himself. You made him a plate before Sungchan went back for seconds and his favorites were gone and still he’s looked through you all day. Like none of it mattered, like you don’t matter to him anymore.

You glance over again and catch him mid-laugh at something Sungchan says. His shoulders shake and it hits you in the gut. You haven’t made him laugh like that in weeks. You don’t even know if you still can.

Is this how your last summer ends? With you loving him in silence and him pretending not to see?

The ache turns into something heavier. You blink again, faster this time like that’ll make it all go away. Like you can still fix it if you just try harder.

Then you see him heading towards you with arms full of firewood and something in you snaps. One last act. Just one more. Maybe this will do it. Maybe this time, he’ll see.

You move before you can think.

“Here—let me help,” you say meeting him halfway, reaching out before he’s even settled the stack in his arms.

He shifts slightly, confused. “I’ve got it.”

“I know,” you say, breath tight. “But just…let me.”

“____.” His tone sharpens. “It’s fine. I said I’ve got it.”

You shake your head, hands already at the edge of the stack. “Please. I want to help.”

“Stop,” he says again. “Seriously. Stop.”

But you can’t. You can’t stop. Not now. Not when this feels like the only thing left you can do.

You reach for the top log, trying to ease it from his arms but it catches rough against your palm. A sharp sting rips through your hand and you cry out, instinctively letting go. The log hits the ground with a loud thud.

Your hand jerks back and you don’t need to look to know it’s bleeding. Anton drops everything.

“Shit!” He’s in front of you in a second, crouched down, brows pulled tight as his eyes find your hand. “Let me see it.”

He doesn’t wait for you to say anything. Just grabs your wrist gently and pulls you inside. Leaving behind a stunned Harvey and Sungchan.

“It’s not bad,” you say, trying to wave it off even though it kind of is. Blood wells up from the cut and slides toward your wrist.

He exhales through his nose. “____.” He says in warning.

He grabs a dish towel and presses it into your hand then ducks into the half-bath down the hall, coming back with the first-aid kit. He doesn’t look at you as he turns on the tap and reaches for your hand again. The water runs cold over your skin, stinging slightly as it washes away the blood. You flinch but Anton doesn’t loosen his grip. 

He presses the gauze to your cut and you hiss softly but he doesn’t stop. He grabs a bandage and gingerly wraps your hand.

“I’m sorry,” you say quietly.

He doesn’t answer.

“I wasn’t trying to—I just thought maybe if I helped—”

“Why are you doing this?” He asks suddenly, not harsh but exhausted. You look up at him to meet his gaze but words fail you yet again.

“You’ve barely said two words to me for weeks,” he says, eyes glassy, expression pulled tight with something akin to pain. “And now you’re out there hurting yourself trying to carry firewood?”

Your throat tightens. “I didn’t know how else to show you I still care.” Anton blinks, like the words physically hit him. He steps back like he needs the space. Like being too close to you right now might split him open.

“D-don’t say that.” He takes a step back, his head shaking like he’s trying to make sense of it, of you.

You open your mouth to speak, to explain but he cuts you off.

“You say you care now but when I stood in front of you and told you I was in love with you, you just…stood there.” His voice cracks like he still can’t believe it happened.

“You didn’t say it back. You didn’t call. You didn’t text. You didn’t do anything.” He laughs, but it’s dry. Hollow. “You disappeared.”

“Anton, I didn’t mean to—”

He swallows hard, breath hitching as he cuts you off yet again. “I waited! Every day, I waited! I thought maybe you just needed time. That you’d come back when you were ready but weeks went by and you—” He cuts himself off, blinking fast, like it’s too much to say out loud.

“I had to be the one to reach out first. After all that, I had to make the first move. You’re the one who kissed Sungchan and yet I was somehow the one on your front porch!”

You start to speak again, heart racing. “That wasn’t fair, it wasn’t—”

“But this is!?” he asks, voice booming.

You deflate. He’s right, none of this is fair to him. You told yourself you were being careful, thoughtful, realistic even but the truth is, you were scared. You let him give you everything and gave him nothing back and now he’s standing here, hurt and angry and still waiting for you to say something.

You chose silence once, you’re not doing it again.

“You’re right.”

Anton freezes, caught off guard. His chest rises and falls but he doesn’t speak. He doesn’t believe it yet.

“I haven’t been fair and I know sorry isn’t enough but I am. I’m sorry.” You say louder now. You’re shaking but you don’t even care.

“The reason I didn’t say it back—” Your voice catches but you push through it. “The reason I stood there like an idiot when you poured your heart out is because I thought we missed our chance. Not because I didn’t feel the same but because this is our last summer.” You’re crying now. Full-on.

“We have two weeks before fall sem starts. Everything is changing and I told myself we couldn’t make it work because if I believed we could then I’d have to admit how badly I wanted it.”

He’s staring at you, blinking back tears of his own.

“I didn’t say it because if I said it,then I’d have to live with knowing I could lose it.”

You step forward, hands curled into fists like your body doesn’t know what to do with the truth anymore.

“I’m in love with you, Anton.”

He exhales sharply, like the air’s been knocked out of him but you feel like a weight has been lifted off of your chest and you can finally breathe again.

“I felt it that night during the storm and I knew it when we had dinner with your parents.” You swallow hard. This is way outside of your comfort zone but Anton is worth it, a future with him is worth anything.

“I was selfish. I know I was. I didn’t give you the chance to choose, I decided for both of us that it couldn’t work. I’m sorry.”

Anton’s lips part like he’s going to say something but no words come out. His eyes are red. His shoulders are trembling.

Then, hoarse and low he says, “Say it again.”

You blink at him, chest pounding.

“What?”

“Say it again.”

You take a breath. Then another. “I’m in love with you,” you say, steady now. “I’m so in love with you it physically hurts to keep it in.”

For a split second, neither of you moves, just stare at each other until Anton makes the first move. He’s across the space in two steps, cupping your face in his hands like he’s afraid you’ll vanish.

His mouth crashes into yours, all teeth and desperation and shaking hands. It’s not gentle. It’s not careful. It’s everything he’s been holding back, everything you’ve been too afraid to say, poured into the space between your lips.

You kiss him back with equal force. His hands slide into your hair, tugging you even closer like the space between your bodies is suddenly too much. You grip the front of his shirt, curling your fingers into the fabric, holding him like you’re scared the second you let go this will all disappear.

There’s nothing pretty or practiced about it. It’s uncoordinated and messy. Your teeth clash once, your noses bump and still neither of you pulls away. You’re both breathing hard, tears still drying on your cheeks.

When he finally slows it’s only because he needs to catch his breath but even then he doesn’t let go. His forehead presses against yours, both of you panting.

His voice comes out low. “You don’t get to leave again.”

You shake your head, lips brushing his as you whisper, “I won’t.” And then he kisses you again.

You move your hands to the back of his neck and thread your fingers through his hair. He places his hands on your lower back and rubs soothing circles onto your back.

“I love you,” he whispers against your lips, sending butterflies into your stomach. He leans back in and kisses you again, this time with a bit more force. He slides his tongue across your bottom lip asking for entrance. When you don’t open up, he slides his hands down your back and grabs your ass and pulls you into him, making your core grind against him, causing you both to gasp. His tongue slips into your mouth, curling around yours.

You don’t say anything as he grabs your hand and pulls you with him, not even giving you time to breathe.

You stumble through the hallway, half-dizzy from the way he kisses you between steps; quick, breathless kisses against your jaw, your cheek, your mouth almost like he can’t wait until you’re alone. You make it to the stairs and he doesn’t let go of you even then. One arm stays wrapped around your waist, his fingers splayed tight against your hip as you climb together, lips brushing, breaths colliding, neither of you willing to part for longer than a second.

By the time you reach his bedroom door, your hands are in his hair, his lips hot against your throat and you’re laughing. He fumbles with the knob, pushes the door open and then slams it shut behind you with more force than necessary.

You don’t care what anyone else hears.

He lifts you slightly as he walks you backward, mouths still pressed together and you let him guide you until the back of your knees hit the edge of his bed. He lays you down with all of the care in the world and then he’s hovering over you, hands braced on either side of your head, staring at you like you’re something he never thought he’d be allowed to touch.

His hands fall down to your hips, pushing your dress up to feel the softness of your stomach beneath his palms with battered breaths. You gasp at the feeling of his soft hands and the pressure he slightly applies, his body pinning you deeper back as he continues exploring your mouth with his own.

You pull back slightly, breathing heavily and your lips red and plump with saliva. Anton smirks at the sight, his thumb coming up to pull down your bottom lip with the tip of his finger before moving his mouth to the sensitive skin of your neck.

The strands of his hair are silky beneath your fingertips as you gasp and tug at the roots as he bites down on a certain area of your neck that makes your core clench.

“Ton,” you whisper, whimpering at the feeling of his palm applying pressure lightly against your navel. “Are we-?”

Anton opens his eyes, his hands stilling immediately as he moves his face in front of yours. “Do you want to?”

You look at him through your lashes and stare at his face for a minute trying to decipher what he’s thinking. He’s always been a person who wears their emotions on their face and now, as you look up into his eyes searching for any hesitation- you find none. You find Nothing but pure love and admiration.

“I do.” You nod

Then he kisses you again. Slower now, deeper too. His mouth moves from yours to your neck, trailing warm, open-mouthed kisses down your skin and you gasp when he finds that one spot that makes you arch into him.

Your fingers fumble with the hem of his pullover and he doesn’t hesitate. He helps pull it off in one motion, tossing it aside without ever taking his eyes off you. You sit up just enough to do the same with your dress and his hands are on your skin before it even hits the floor.

Clothes come off slowly, one piece at a time. Between kisses. His fingers trail along your sides like he’s trying to commit every inch of you to memory. You’re breathless, skin hot, pulse pounding beneath his touch.

One of your hands fumbles against the sheets, clutching the fabric tight in your fist as his hands slide lower, slipping beneath what little clothing you have left between you.

You gasp as his hips press into yours, as he kisses the softest part of your shoulder and breathes your name.

August 18th, 2025

You wake to the sound of cicadas and the sun peeking through the linen curtains. The world outside is just beginning to stir but inside this room everything feels still.

The sheets are warm and tangled around your legs and Anton’s arm is draped heavy across your waist, your bodies pressed close beneath the comforter. He’s still asleep, chest rising and falling, lashes resting against his cheeks. You blink up at him as you recall last night.

The words whispered, the way his hands trembled when they touched you, the kisses, the confessions and the sex. Anton was slow and careful at first, then deeper and rougher going round after round.

You shift just slightly, burying your face against his shoulder. He doesn’t stir, just exhales softly.

For so long, the thought of summer ending felt like a countdown you couldn’t stop. A slow, creeping ache would overcome you every time you remembered what was coming. You were so scared that you’d missed your chance but here you are in his bed, in his arms. You press a soft kiss to his shoulder and tuck yourself even closer.

You’re not clinging to August anymore. You’re not holding your breath for one more weekend or one more night or one more moment.

“It’s cute,” Maya chimes in.

You groan and toss in your deodorant. “Fine. Just pack it for me.”

Harvey fist-pumps and folds the bikini with way too much care before tossing it into the duffel. “You’ll thank me later.”

Maya smiles a little through the screen, “Anton’s gonna love seeing you in that.”

Harvey freezes halfway through applying lip gloss and whips around. “Huh? Anton? As in Anton Anton?”

You let out a long sigh. “Maya…”

“Don’t look at me like that, you were gonna tell her eventually!” She defends.

Harvey blinks. “Wait, wait, wait. What’s going on with you and Anton?”

You drag a hand over your face. “Nothing…I just….”

Harvey’s eyes widen and she flops dramatically onto your bed. “Oh my Gosh! You like him.”

You nod and Maya cuts in. “She thinks she’s in love with him.”

Harvey gasps and stares at you in shock “Okay, well damn. That’s kind of huge.”

“I know.”

“Does he know?” Harvey asks.

Maya and you answer at the same time, Maya with a “Not yet,” and you with a “Absolutely not.”

“Okay. So what’s the plan? Are we confessing under the fireworks or..?” Harvey asks.

“I don’t know, I just…I don’t want things to change if he doesn’t feel the same.” You admit.

“They’ve already changed, babe,” Maya says gently.

Harvey nods. “For real. You can’t un-feel that.” She reaches for your hand and squeezes it. “Even on the off chance he doesn’t say it back, which I don’t think is the case, by the way. I don’t think he’d ever let that be the end of you two.”

You nod slowly, trying to believe it.

Maya checks the time. “Okay I gotta go, my aunt just called me down for dinner but text me the second anything happens.”

You nod and wave before ending the call. Harvey loops her arm through yours as you head for the door, the July heat already peeking through the windows.

The drive to Sungchan’s is a nice and much needed pick-me-up with Harvey hanging her arm out the window and drumming on the car door in time with the beat. You’ve got your sunglasses on, the cool air hitting your face and your favorite throwback playlist humming through the speakers. There’s glitter on Harvey’s collarbone and a watermelon lollipop sticking out of her mouth as she scrolls for the next song.

When she lands on Fergalicious, you both scream.

The chorus is still blasting when you turn the corner into Sungchan’s neighborhood. Cars are already lined up along the curb, a few people milling around their front yards, red solo cups in hand. You spot Sohee’s beat-up Civic in front of Sungchan’s mailbox and Anton’s Jeep parked a few houses down.

Harvey grins. “Ready?”

You nod as she kills the engine and toss your sunglasses into the glove compartment and grab your overnight bag from the back seat. You and Harvey walk up the pavement to Sungchan’s home and knock once before the door swings open immediately like Sungchan was already standing there. He’s in swim trunks and an open button-down that doesn’t even try to cover the tank top tan line across his chest.

“Well, if it isn’t my favorite losers,” He grins.

Sungchan steps aside with a dramatic bow. “Bathroom’s to the right if you wanna change. Everyone else is already out back. Guest room’s down the hall—leave your bags, I’ll toss ‘em in there.”

You hand over your duffel and raise a brow. “You sure?”

He waves you off. “Yeah. It’s clean-ish. My mom made me vacuum before they left.”

“Wait where are they?” Harvey asks.

“Family trip to Cabo,” he says, already heading down the hall with your stuff. “I bailed. Went for spring break, already met my yearly quota for family time.”

You nod slowly. “Fair enough.”

“Founding fathers would’ve wanted it this way,” he calls over his shoulder.

You and Harvey exchange a look then dart into separate bathrooms to change. You wiggle into the cherry bikini still regretting letting them convince you and smooth your sarong into place. The tile’s cool under your feet and you swipe on a little lip balm before heading out.

Harvey emerges a second later in her green bikini and white bucket hat. “We look hot.”

You adjust your sunglasses and smile. “Extremely.”

The two of you walk to the kitchen and push open the sliding door and step into the backyard. Music’s blasting, the smell of charcoal hangs in the air and the pool shimmers.

Sohee’s already floating on an inflatable donut sunglasses crooked on his face sipping something bright pink out of a mason jar.

Sungchan’s by the grill flipping burgers while Anton’s off to the side, lounging in a deck chair with a popsicle in hand and a baseball cap pulled low over his hair.

He looks up when you walk out and does a double-take but it’s fast. A blink and then he’s glancing away chewing the tip of his popsicle.

Sungchan turns and spots you both whistling low and smirking. “Mind doing a little turn for me princess?”

You laugh and flip him off without missing a beat.

Sohee salutes from the pool. “Happy red white and blue day, motherf—”

“Language!” Sungchan calls half-heartedly.

Sohee smirks and goes back to sipping his little pink drink without a care in the world. You make your way over to the deck chairs, dropping your towel on the one next to Anton’s and settling in with a stretch.

The two of you sit in comfortable silence for a moment, the sun warming your skin and the music spilling softly from the speakers behind you.

You scroll for a bit on your phone and respond to some texts, thumbs tapping out a lazy reply to Maya before locking your screen. You turn to face Anton’s who’s reclined back with his popsicle watching the clouds.

You smile to yourself and nudge his leg with your foot. “I’m gonna take a dip, join me?”

Anton turns his head toward you, eyes squinting just slightly from the sun. “In a bit.” he says waving his popsicle.

You nod and stand, stretching briefly before untying your sarong and draping it over the back of the chair. You don’t catch the way his gaze lingers on your body before flicking back up to the sky as he finishes the last bite of his popsicle.

You step down into the pool slowly letting the water hit your ankles then your knees then your waist before finally ducking under and coming back up and wiping away the water from your face.

A few minutes later you hear a splash and glance over to see Anton finally joining, shaking the water from his hair like a golden retriever. Harvey joins soon too, taking up space on Sohee’s floatie, he groans but shares anyway.

You’re floating nearby, content in the moment until a familiar voice cuts through the air.

“Cannonball!”

You barely have time to register the warning before Sungchan cannonballs directly into the deep end sending a wall of water in every direction.

You yelp as the splash hits you full-force. Sohee screams, Anton instinctively shields his face and ducks under the water while Harvey shrieks and is forced off the floatie and sent under.

Sungchan resurfaces with a triumphant grin only to be splashed in the face by Sohee, “you suck.” he says before swimming back in the direction of his floatie.

The next few minutes are loud and ridiculous. Everyone’s splashing each other, Sohee’s floatie somehow ends up out of the pool and Anton drifts over to your side just in time to pull you back from Harvey’s water bending.

You shriek, arms instinctively flying around his neck as he draws you close. Your legs wrap around his waist without thinking.

Before your heart can catch up Harvey’s yelling again. “Chicken! We’re playing chicken!”

You blink, startled and quickly loosen your arms from Anton’s neck, legs slipping free as you paddle back, suddenly hyper-aware of the way your skin had been pressed to his.

Sohee jumps out of the water and says’s he wants to ref, not trusting any of you to play fair. You half-heartedly laugh at that and push some water out of your face. You see both Anton and Sungchan start to swim in your direction and your heart stutters wondering if they both want to partner up.

Before Anton even gets the chance to ask you, Sungchan takes a hold of your arm and tugs you in his direction. “Partners?’ He asks with a small smile, you turn your head slightly to look at Anton who has stopped in his tracks, he purses his lips before turning to face Harvey and partners up with her.

You place your focus back on Sungchan and shrug. “Why not?”

He grins and dips lower in the water so you can climb onto his shoulders. You steady yourself with your hands on his head, adjusting your balance as he straightens up beneath you.

Across the pool, Harvey’s already settling on Anton’s shoulders tossing you a competitive look. “Hope you’re ready to eat chlorine.”

You snort. “Big talk from someone who just got bodied off a floatie five minutes ago.”

“Okay, okay!” Sohee calls from the edge of the pool, now sitting cross-legged with a new mason jar and a towel draped across his shoulders. “Enough trash talk, keep it civil.”

Sungchan shifts under you, trying to find his footing and nearly topples both of you before catching himself.

“Steady,” you hiss, holding tighter to his hair.

“Watch the hair! I don’t like it rough.” He says with a smirk. You roll your eyes but your grip softens.

Anton wades closer to the center of the pool with Harvey perched confidently above him, one hand already raised like she’s waiting for a bell to ring.

Sohee raises a pool noodle in the air dramatically. “Three…two…one—fight!”

You and Harvey each go for the other’s hands, water sloshing around you. Sungchan’s stance is unpredictable, trying his best to throw Harvey off but you’re the one wobbling.

“Focus,” he says under his breath, palms locked around your shins.

“I’m trying!”

Anton moves more smoothly. He doesn’t rush, his hands steady on Harvey’s legs, guiding without jerking, almost careful.

You catch it without really registering it, how gentle he’s being. How he’s not pushing as hard, not jostling or throwing Harvey into any aggressive lunges like Sungchan. He’s holding back. Just enough for you to notice but not enough to question it.

A second later, Sungchan pivots hard to the right and you knock into Harvey’s shoulder at just the right angle. She shrieks as she falls backward, arms flailing as she crashes into the water.

“Victory!” Sungchan yells, pumping a fist in the air and splashing wildly.

You cheer still clinging to his head, your heart pounding more from adrenaline than victory.

“Okay, okay,” you laugh, tapping his shoulder. “Let me down.”

He ducks beneath the surface and you slip off his back, landing in the water with a small splash.

“I’m gonna grab some food, want anything?”

“I’ll come with,” Sungchan offers casually, swimming over to the pool edge. You nod without thinking much of it, still catching your breath as you both climb out.

He throws an arm around your shoulder like it’s second nature and you let him, the sun warm on your skin as the two of you head toward the sliding door. You don’t see the way Anton watches, how his jaw ticks slightly and his tongue pokes the inside of his cheek. You don’t see him sigh and sink deeper into the pool, eyes lingering on the empty spot beside him.

The second your feet hit the kitchen tile Sungchan’s arm drops from your shoulder as he crosses to the counter and gets to work on stacking a burger “I’m starving,” he mutters, grabbing a paper plate.

You don’t say much at first, just drift toward the spread and grab a fruit cup and a paper towel. The counter’s cool beneath your fingertips as you lean against it, using the plastic fork to stab a piece of pineapple.

You glance over at Sungchan as he assembles his burger. He’s focused and humming something under his breath. For a second, you wonder if it’s worth bringing up. If maybe you’re reading too much into things but your mind drifts to moments you’ve shared with Sungchan and how much he’s come to mean to you these past few months, you don’t want to lose that. If there’s even the slightest chance Sungchan might feel something for you, you’d rather be honest now than risk hurting him later.

You clear your throat gently. “Hey…can I talk to you about something real quick?”

Sungchan doesn’t look up right away, just makes a noncommittal noise, still chewing as he moves on to squeezing ketchup onto his plate.

You pick at the fruit cup, shifting your weight. “I just wanna say…I really value our friendship. Like, a lot.”

That gets his attention. He finally looks over, curiosity and caution swimming in his eyes now.

“I know you’re kind of flirty with everyone and it’s not that I think you’re being serious or anything, but…just in case. I wanted to be clear that I don’t… feel that way. About you.”

He blinks once, then twice and then finally lets out a laugh. “Yeah. I know.”

You blink back. “You do?”

He nods, grabbing a pickle and takes a bite. “You’re not that hard to read, you know. I knew what this was from the start.”

You pause. “Okay, but if I ever gave you the wrong idea—”

“You didn’t. You’ve been real with me since day one. We’re cool.” He says genuinely.

You exhale slowly, your shoulders dropping a bit in relief. “Okay. Good. I just didn’t want there to be any confusion.”

“Nah,” he says with a grin, popping a chip in his mouth. “You’re not my type anyway. I like my women obsessed with me and not their best friend.”

You freeze, your fork pausing mid-air.

You don’t confirm it but you don’t deny it either. You just blink, lips parting slightly, caught off guard by how casually he says it. Like it’s obvious, like it’s always been obvious.

Instead, you ask, “Then why do you always flirt with me?”

Sungchan glances at you a little amused and reaches over to steal a grape from your cup. “Anton always gets so pouty, it’s quite cute honestly. Also made a bet with Sohee that he would crack first and confess before summer’s over…just trying to make sure I win.”

You scoff and swat his chest. “Okay first of all, you’re an ass and second, that’s a losing bet. Anton doesn’t feel that way.”

Sungchan just looks at you. He doesn’t roll his eyes or laugh it off. He just lifts his eyebrows slightly giving you a long stare. One that clearly says, “Sure. Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

You shift in place and glance down at your fruit cup, your appetite all but gone. With a quiet sigh you lean against the counter beside him, your arm brushing his as you rest your head on his shoulder.

“…Do you think we’d ever actually have a chance? Me and him?” You ask, barely above a whisper.

He doesn’t answer right away, just wipes a bit of mustard from his hand and tosses the napkin on the counter then, gently, “Yeah. I do.”

His arm comes around your waist, not in a flirtatious way but in the way someone hugs a friend who’s thinking too hard. You stay like that, tucked into his side appreciating the gesture and his warmth.

“Honestly? I knew there was something between you two during the first shift.”

You furrow your brows, he shrugs. “I don’t know. It was the way he’d stand closer than he needed to. Or how he always checked in with you, the attitude he caught with me for just talking to you during break.”

You stay quiet, chewing the inside of your cheek.

“But what really sealed it for me was the night we shared the edible at Sohee’s.” He continues.

You frown. “I barely remember anything. Just laughing and then waking up with marshmallows stuck to me.”

“Yeah that’s because you were super out of it. You were fine at first, all giggly laughing at Sohee’s dumb freestyles while trying to stack our phones on your head but then…I don’t know. Something shifted.”

You look up at him. “Shifted how?”

“You got quiet and curled up in the corner then outta nowhere you started crying. We all kinda froze. You kept mumbling something about missing Antoinette.”

You frown, confused for a second then groan. “Oh my gosh. Antoinette is my weighted dinosaur. He got it for me on my birthday…it helps with my anxiety.”

He nods like it makes perfect sense now. “Anyway you were starting to really spiral so Anton sat next to you and fed you snacks and made you sip water even though you kept saying it tasted like TV static. The marshmallows are because he handed you them and told you they were Antoinette’s cousins sent to keep you company.”

Your laugh slips out before you can stop it. “That is so humbling.”

Sungchan laughs with you. “You calmed down right after that. Fell asleep with the bag still in your arms. He didn’t even move until he was sure you were okay, I think he stayed up the rest of the night just watching you making sure you were warm and okay.”

You don’t say anything, just stare at the counter like maybe it’ll absorb your spiraling thoughts. You remembered that night as chaotic and blurry like one long confusing fever dream. You thought you’d just passed out. Thought the hoodie and marshmallows were some weird aftereffect of being too high but hearing it now how Anton stayed up with you and made sure you were okay…it just makes sense.

It was always going to be him, you were just too blind to see it before. You press your lips together, throat thick. Sungchan breaks the quiet, voice softer now. “We didn’t bring it up after because he asked us not to.”

Your head lifts slightly. “What? Why?”

He pulls you in closer. “He didn’t want you to be embarrassed, said if you didn’t remember it wasn’t worth making a big deal over.”

You groan, pressing your forehead to Sungchan’s shoulder. “He’s such a—” You don’t even have the words. “Why is he like this?”

Sungchan huffs a small laugh and shrugs, before anything else is said the sliding door opens. You glance up, eyes meeting Anton’s across the room. His expression freezes just slightly when he sees how close you and Sungchan are but he doesn’t say anything, just walks in, grabs a slice of pizza and heads back outside without a word.

Sungchan lets out a low whistle. “Yeah, that boy’s not subtle.”

You don’t respond, you just stare at the door he walked out of. You sigh and pull away. “We should probably head back out before anyone gets the wrong idea.”

“True, Anton’s probably already imagining our wedding.” He says with a grin, giving your shoulder a gentle nudge.

You roll your eyes but laugh anyway, swatting at his arm. “Shut up.”

He tosses his empty plate into the trash and you grab your half-finished fruit cup, the plastic lid tucked underneath. As you push the sliding door open, the warm air rushes in again, thick with chlorine and the low thrum of music still playing from the speaker.

Sohee’s back in the pool on a new floatie, drifting lazily across the surface like he’s a human raft. Harvey’s on a towel laid out across two lounge chairs, sunglasses on and enjoying a popsicle. Anton’s in the shallow end now, arms folded on the ledge watching something on his phone or pretending to at least.

You set your cup down on the patio table and sit back on your towel. Sungchan joins Sohee in the water. You look at Anton but he doesn’t look up once and even though you try not to care, something about that makes your chest feel a little too tight.

You try to push it down and join Sohee and Sungchan in the water to distract yourself. Harvey eventually gets up and cannonballs back into the pool, sending a wave splashing over Sohee’s floatie.

Sungchan swims over and splashes her in retaliation and before long, you’re back to a full blown splash-off with water flying, floaties being stolen and someone yelling about not getting their hair wet?

Anton stays near the edge, mostly quiet, half-heartedly flicking water at Sungchan when provoked but never really diving in. You catch him smiling once when Sohee imitates Katara from avatar but it fades quickly, his expression returning to something more neutral.

At one point Sungchan splashes you and you yelp, flicking water back at him with a grin. You look toward Anton instinctively, like maybe he’ll join in too but he’s already glanced away.

It feels off and you hate that you keep noticing.

Eventually, Sohee flops onto the ledge next to Anton and pushes his wet hair back. “Okay, I’m pruney as hell. Let’s move inside.”

Harvey cheers and climbs out of the pool wringing out her hair with a towel. Sungchan hoists himself out after her, grabbing a few cups and the now-empty chip bowl as he heads toward the door.

Anton pulls himself out last, not looking in your direction even once. You wrap your towel around your waist, heart heavy for reasons you don’t want to name and follow the others inside.

Once inside everyone splits off for a few minutes to change. You change quickly, pulling on a pair of shorts and a loose tank top over your swimsuit, towel-drying your hair before padding back into the living room barefoot.

When you return, Sohee’s already rearranged the space. The coffee table’s been pushed back and a makeshift beer pong setup is in the center of the room.

“Alright, listen up, we’re playing truth or dare beer pong. You miss your shot, you either answer a truth or do a dare. You make it? You pick someone else to drink.” Sohee says, clearly proud of himself as everyone starts to file back in.

Harvey frowns. “That’s evil.”

“Exactly. Ladies first.” Sohee grins and tosses her a ping pong ball.

Sungchan reemerges, flopping onto the carpet with his legs crossed and a towel still draped around his neck. You sit beside him and Anton takes the floor spot near Harvey without a word, fiddling with the edge of his sleeve.

Sohee claps his hands once. “Start!”

Harvey narrows her eyes in mock concentration, gripping the ball with both hands before dramatically exhaling. She throws and misses by a mile.

“Tragic,” Sohee mutters.

She groans and leans back on her hands. “Fine. Truth.”

Sohee grins. “Who in this room do you think would be the worst kisser?”

Harvey raises her brows. “Bold of you to assume I haven’t already sampled the selection.” You raise a brow at that, what else happened the night you guys took edibles?

Next up is Sohee. He lines up his shot and lands it, he points at Harvey. “Drink.” She narrows her eyes but takes it like a champ, tipping the cup back dramatically.

Sungchan’s next, he takes his time tongue poking the inside of his cheek as he aims then flicks the ball. It arcs, hits the rim and plops in the center. He sits back smugly and turns to look at you. “Drink up.” He says. You sigh but reach for the cup anyway and knock back the beer.

You try to focus as your turn comes up. You toss and miss, Sungchan grins. “Truth or dare?” he asks, bouncing the next ball in his palm.

“Truth.” You say simply, hoping to play it safe.

“What’s your biggest regret from this summer so far?” Sungchan asks from beside you.

Your mouth grows dry as you think of what to say. If you’re being honest, your biggest regret is that you realized it too late.

You regret how long it took you to see Anton clearly. Not just as the boy you grew up with or the friend who always kept your secrets but the person. The one who always waits for you to catch up, who buys your favorite snacks without being asked, who lets you borrow his hoodies and pretends not to notice when you keep them for weeks. The one who knows you and you regret not letting yourself feel what that could mean.

You regret not letting yourself explore it when you had the time. Before things got complicated, before the days started ticking down faster than you could hold onto them because if one things for sure, it’s that summer ends.

Soon you’ll pack up your things and return to campus. You’ll go back to walking the same halls you’ve walked a hundred times trying not to look for him in every room, you’ll go back to pretending you don’t want to marry him someday, pretending you could ever see anyone else fitting into your life the way he does.

Summer will end and it’ll end like this; Anton as still your childhood best friend, nothing more.

You could say all of that, could lay it bare in the middle of this beer pong game with half-wet hair and warm beer in plastic cups. You could finally say what’s been sitting heavy in your heart all summer but you don’t. You take the second route, the safe one. You lie.

You clear your throat and lean back on your palms, plastering on a smile. “Maybe that I didn’t finish my TVD rewatch. Was really hoping to make it to the Delena era.”

They laugh, Sohee calls you out on a cop out answer and Harvey tells him to shut up and just like that, the moment passes.

Anton goes next, he rolls the ping pong ball between his fingers for a second before tossing but it bounces off the rim and lands in Sohee’s lap. Sohee snorts and picks up the ping pong ball and tauntingly says, “miss!”

“Truth or dare?” You ask softly.

Anton leans back, resting on one hand. “Truth.”

You think for a moment, you don’t want to ask something meaningless, not with him. “If you could relive any moment from this summer, what would it be?”

Anton’s lips part like he might answer. He looks down at the cup in front of him, fingers tapping lightly against his knee but then wordlessly he reaches for the beer and drinks.

The group laughs or groans but your stomach drops. He didn’t answer. He didn’t even try to answer.

You try not to read into it but your thoughts race ahead anyway. What memory was too private to say out loud? What moment does he want to relive that badly and why didn’t he want anyone else to hear it? He’s hiding…just like you.

You shake your head as a new round starts, trying to remind yourself it’s just a game. Maybe he’s too sober and too aware.

The game continues with more laughs and jabs. Harvey’s dared to text her ex, Sohee’s forced to freestyle using random words everyone shouts at him, you somehow manage to land a shot on your next turn, making Sungchan drink and despite the rocky start, Anton proves to be an ace at the game, landing almost all of his shots and remaining the most sober out of all of you.

Eventually, it circles back to Sungchan. He misses not by much and flops dramatically onto his side.

“Truth or dare?” Harvey asks slyly.

“Truth,” Sungchan says without hesitation, sitting back up.

Harvey smirks, twirling the ping pong ball between her fingers. “If ____ gave you a chance, would you go for it?”

You look at her wide eyed and Sungchan’s eyes slide to you with a crooked smile tugging at his lips. “Why not?”

You laugh, more out of nerves than anything and wave him off. You know he doesn’t mean it, especially after that conversation in the kitchen. You just hope he doesn’t do or say anything stupid. “Okay, relax.”

Harvey, ever the instigator though, starts chanting. “Kiss, kiss, kiss—!”

Sohee joins in and suddenly all eyes are on you and Sungchan.

You roll your eyes. “What are we five?” You lean towards Harvey to collect the ball but then Sungchan leans forward and kisses you.

It’s quick, not deep, not showy just long enough to draw a reaction and short enough to leave you reeling. Out of sheer instinct you kiss back.

You hear Sohee and Harvey cheer and you quickly pull away. Sungchan just winks at you when you glare at him, clearly unbothered. You barely register his smirk, barely hear Harvey joking about a round two because your attention is solely on Anton.

Except Anton’s not looking at you. He’s looking straight ahead, jaw clenched so tight it looks painful, fingers wrapped around his water bottle like it’s the only thing keeping him grounded.

You open your mouth to say something but you don’t get the chance. He stands, not abruptly, not dramatically, just quiet and decisive like he’s made up his mind. He sets the bottle down gently and walks out of the room. No one says anything.

You’re on your feet before you realize you’ve moved, ignoring Sohee’s voice behind you cussing Sungchan out as you slip through the hallway and out the front door.

Anton’s already halfway down the front lawn, hands shoved into the pockets of his hoodie, moving like he has somewhere to be. Somewhere that isn’t here.

“Anton,” you call, heart thudding but he doesn’t stop.

You jog to catch up. “Anton, wait.”

He slows just enough for you to fall into step beside him but he doesn’t look at you.

“What was that?” you ask, breath catching. “You just…left.”

He exhales a shaky breath through his nose. “What do you want me to say?”

“I want you to talk to me! You’ve barely looked at me all night and then you just storm off without saying anything.” You say, your voice cracking.

He finally meets your eyes and the look he gives you is nothing like the Anton you know. It’s tight and guarded, like he’s trying not to fall apart right there on the lawn.

“You kissed him, you didn’t even hesitate.” He says quietly.

You feel your breath catch, like your lungs have forgotten how to work.

He shakes his head once, as if he’s trying to process it all over again. “Why was it so easy? Why him?” He asks, voice rising now.

“Anton—”

“No, seriously, Why him and not me?” He snaps, voice raw. Your mouth opens but nothing comes out. You’ve never seen him like this.

“I’ve been here,” he says, stepping closer, eyes burning. “I’ve always been here. You’ve known him for what? Two months and—”

He cuts himself off with a humorless laugh, brushing his fingers through his hair. “You kissed Sungchan. Like it was nothing. Like it didn’t mean anything, like I haven’t spent this whole summer trying not to fall apart every time you look at me like I’m just your friend!”

Your chest tightens.

“I thought maybe this would finally be the summer where it made sense. Where I could say something. Where you’d maybe look at me and see it.”

He looks at you glaring. “Do you want to know why I realy wanted to come back to the country club?”

You don’t answer. You can’t. Your throat’s too tight.

“I came back because I thought this summer was our last chance.”

Your stomach drops.

“Not because of the pay or the stupid slushies! This was it, the last time things could be the way they were. Before I’m knee-deep in med school applications and you’re halfway across the world…before everything changes.” He says quietly. He’s not yelling anymore but his words land heavier this way.

“I thought maybe we’d finally get it right. That if we went back to the place it all started…if we gave ourselves space to just be like we were when we were fourteen…maybe we wouldn’t miss it this time.”

He steps closer and it’s like the air shifts around you. “I’ve loved you for years, ____. Since before college, before Wonbin, before that stupid pinky promise you made me swear to keep.” He says, voice cracking now. 

Your breath stutters. Your eyes are already stinging.

“And tonight,” he says, shaking his head, “you kissed him. You didn’t even hesitate.” He swipes a hand down his face like he’s trying to scrub the image from his memory.

You open your mouth but close it soon after. What could you possibly say? How could you tell him you feel the same?

That Sungchan is just a friend, that the kiss meant nothing. That your heart didn’t flutter or race or ache the way it does when Anton so much as says your name. How could you be selfish and tell him you want him just as badly as he wants you?

You can’t.

Summer is ending. He said it himself, this was your last chance. The last moment to get it right and you missed it. You blink hard, trying to keep the tears at bay but it’s too late. They burn down your cheeks as your chest tightens around everything you won’t say.

It would be beyond selfish to ask for anything now. Not when your fall semester is stacked with back-to-back labs and your passport is already tucked into your nightstand waiting for your gap year to begin. Not when Anton has med school deadlines and a thousand things to focus on besides you.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you but Anton, we can’t—” you start but he cuts you off, not even giving you the chance to invalidate this.

“Don’t say that like this wasn’t real, like this wasn’t something,” he pleads.

You shake your head, overwhelmed. “Anton, we can’t—”

“When I think of my future,” he cuts in, voice trembling now, “you’re in every version of it.”

His tears finally fall but he doesn’t bother to wipe his own.

“I see us traveling. I see us moving in together after grad school, decorating some tiny overpriced apartment with too many plants. I see us getting married, buying a forever home. I see you…as the mother of my kids.” He chokes out.

Your legs actually give out on you and you have to take hold of Sungchan’s mailbox to not fall flat on your face.

“I don’t know how to unsee that,” he whispers. “I don’t know how to stop loving you. If it’s not you, it doesn’t make sense.”

Anton steps closer, eyes glossy and searching. “Just say it. Tell me you feel it too.”

You freeze, your breath caught in your throat.

“Please,” he whispers.

You want to. You want to because you do feel it. Every piece of what he’s described you see it too.

You see the cluttered apartment filled with love and memories. You see the holidays spent arguing over where to put the Christmas lights. You see a wedding and a life with him where everything makes sense. You see kids with his eyes and your laugh and family vacations in the summer. You see it all but not in this lifetime.

Not with the clock winding down on the only summer you’ve ever wanted to last forever.

So you say nothing. Not because it isn’t real but because it’s too real. Too big. Too late.

He takes your silence like a punch to the gut nodding slowly, jaw clenched. “Okay, that’s my answer.” He says hollowly, stepping back.

You shake your head, a sob caught somewhere behind your teeth. “Anton, wait—” You call for him but he’s already walking away and this time, he doesn’t look back.

July 11th, 2025

You haven’t gone back to work.

The thought of clocking in and possibly seeing Anton makes your stomach twist in ways you don’t know how to untangle so you’ve stayed home. Ignored the group chat and let your shifts get quietly reassigned. No one’s said anything at least not directly but you’ve seen the unread messages pile up.

The sun’s starting to dip when your phone buzzes with an incoming call. You don’t even check the screen. You already know who it is.

You answer on the third ring, pressing the phone to your ear as you curl deeper into your sheets.

“Hey,” you murmur.

There’s silence for a beat then Maya’s voice cuts through the line. “You’re really not gonna tell me what happened?”

Your throat tightens. You stare up at the ceiling watching shadows shift across the plaster.

“Maya, I can’t—” you start but she cuts you off.

“—Yes, you can. I’ve let you spiral for a week. I’ve kept quiet but babe I’m running out of patience and you’re running out of time. Talk to me.”

You suck in a breath and finally let it out slowly. “He told me he loved me.”

You can hear the shift in her tone immediately. “And?”

You close your eyes. “And I didn’t say anything.”

A beat of silence.

“Maya…I froze. I just stood there like an idiot and said nothing. What was I supposed to say?”

“Literally anything?” she says, incredulously.

You sit up, heart pounding. “I didn’t want to be selfish.”

Maya’s quiet for a second then she says, “____, not saying anything was the selfish part.”

Your breath catches.

“You took away his choice. You decided for both of you that it wasn’t possible. You didn’t even give him the chance.”

The line goes quiet again, the weight of her words sinking in.

“I thought I was doing the right thing,” you whisper.

“I know you did but you hurt him and now you’re hurting too.” She replies.

You lie back down, phone still pressed to your ear and let the silence stretch long between you. Outside, a plane flies low overhead. You close your eyes and wish it were enough to drown out the ache.

July 18th, 2025

You’ve been in the same spot on the couch for hours.

A movie plays on the TV but you’ve barely absorbed any of it. Your mom sits at the other end, folding laundry with half her attention on the screen and the other half on you. She hasn’t said anything yet, just glances over every so often like she’s trying to find the right words. You haven’t given her much to work with.

You sip from a cup of lukewarm tea, the one she made without asking and tuck your feet under the blanket stretched over your lap.

She finally breaks the silence. “So…are we gonna talk about it? Or are we still pretending it’s just PMS?”

You blink, turning slowly to look at her. “What?”

She raises an eyebrow. “You’ve been home for almost two weeks and you haven’t once mentioned work…or Anton.”

You freeze.

“I don’t want to push but it’s starting to feel like you’re hiding out.” She continues, gentler now.

You don’t respond, not directly. Just look down at your tea and pretend to be really interested in the ceramic pattern of the mug.

She sighs. “Okay. Just know I’m here when you’re ready.”

You nod, still quiet. She reaches for the remote and turns up the volume slightly. The sound of canned laughter fills the room. That’s when your phone buzzes against your thigh.

You check it without much thought and see Sungchan’s name.

1:00 pm | sungchan 🐸: hey. 1:10 pm | sungchan 🐸: i know i probably should’ve said something sooner but 1:10 pm | sungchan 🐸: i’m sorry for the kiss. 1:11 pm | sungchan 🐸: i got caught up in the moment and was thinking about the bet…it was stupid and selfish, i’m sorry 1:11 pm | sungchan 🐸: just wanted to clear the air 1:12 pm | sungchan 🐸: also update you probably don’t want but 1:12 pm | sungchan 🐸: he’s still coming in for shifts. won’t talk to me though. checks in with harvey about you sometimes. 1:13 pm | sungchan 🐸: misses you, even if he won’t say it. 1:13 pm | sungchan 🐸: just thought you should know.

You reread the messages three times. Your throat tightens even more after each read. Your mom glances over again and sees the shift in your expression but doesn’t ask. Your fingers hover over your phone as you type out a reply.

1:30 pm | you: thanks for saying that. 1:30 pm | you: and it’s okay. i know it wasn’t meant to be a thing 1:31 pm | you: i’m not mad at you. 1:31 pm | you: i just wish things were different

You turn your phone face down and lean back against the couch, eyes stinging. You don’t cry. Not today but you let the discomfort stay.

July 20th, 2025

The door bursts open before you can even pretend to be asleep.

“____.”

You flinch slightly at the sharpness in your mom’s voice. She stands in the doorway with one hand on her hip, eyes scanning the state of your room, dim and cluttered. You’re curled on your side, blanket halfway pulled over your head, a movie paused on your laptop and your untouched water bottle sweating on the nightstand.

“You’ve barely left this room in days. What’s going on?”

You try to brush it off. “I’m just tired.”

She raises an eyebrow. “Tired? Or avoiding something?”

You swallow hard and look down. It’s been over two weeks. Two weeks of silence, of dodging the group chat, of skipping shifts at the country club. Two weeks of not speaking to Anton.

Your mom steps further in and sits at the edge of your bed like she used to when you were little. “Did something happen?”

The tears come faster than expected.

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. “I think I ruined everything.”

You tell her the whole story. As much as you can manage between shaky exhales and thumb-picking. The dance, the kiss, the fight. The way Anton looked so heartbroken.

When you finish, she’s quiet for a beat. Then, carefully, “Do you love him?”

You don’t hesitate. “Yeah. I do.”

She sighs, reaching out to squeeze your hand. “Then tell him.”

“I can’t.” You shake your head. “I hurt him and the timing is all wrong. We’re leaving soon.”

She softly caresses your cheek. “Baby love was never meant to fit into a timeline. It’s not something that’s meant to be perfect.”

You blink back fresh tears.

“I’m not saying call him right this second but don’t let silence be your answer. You don’t want to live with ‘what ifs.’”

You nod slowly. “I’ll think about it.”

She kisses your forehead “Thinking’s a start.”

When she leaves the room you stay seated on your bed staring at the spot where your phone charges. You’re not ready yet but maybe soon.

August 3rd, 2025

​​You’re lying on your floor with a pillow tucked under your stomach and your phone playing an old K-drama you’ve seen a dozen times while you munch away on some veggie chips. You haven’t done much today, you finally got around to putting your laundry away but that’s about it.

When the doorbell rings, you don’t move at first. You wait to see if someone else will answer it but no one does.

You pause the show, drag yourself to your feet and shuffle downstairs in the same hoodie you’ve been wearing for two days, Anton’s. You open the door, expecting maybe a package or a neighbor only to be met with the man of the hour himself, Anton.

He looks just as surprised to see you as you are to see him.

His posture shifts immediately, his hand flexes around a plain brown paper bag and his jaw tightens as his eyes flicker up to meet yours.

“Oh. I thought…I figured your mom would answer.” He says, voice stiff.

You don’t say anything. You can’t.

He clears his throat, eyes darting somewhere over your shoulder. “I just came to drop these off.” He lifts the bag slightly like it’s proof.

Still, you can’t move. Can’t look away. You thought you were prepared for this for seeing him again but you’re not.

He shifts his weight. “That’s all.”

He doesn’t wait for you to respond. Just gently places the bag on the doormat and takes a step back.

“Bye, ____” he says softly.

You whisper his name, barely audible but he doesn’t stop. He’s already retreating down the steps and toward his car. You stay there, frozen in the doorway as he pulls out, not once looking back.

You eventually pick up the bag and close the door just to sink to the floor with the bag in your lap.

You open it and find that inside are the photo booth strips.

You smooth out the top strip. It’s the one with all of you: Sohee making a face, Sungchan mid-blink, Harvey grinning wide, Anton reaching over to squeeze your cheek as you pretend to scowl.

But the second strip makes your breath catch. Just you and him. You’re laughing in every frame and Anton is watching you in almost all of them.

There’s a sticky note tucked in the corner. His handwriting is careful, slanted just slightly like it always is.

this summer still meant something.

You press the strips against your chest and shut your eyes tight.

August 10th, 2025

You hesitate outside the staff entrance longer than you mean to, fingers twisting the hem of your shirt like it might give you courage. It’s been over a month since your last shift and just standing here makes your chest ache. The door squeaks when you push it open.

Inside, it smells the same; chlorine and sunscreen. You walk in slowly, heart hammering, unsure of what you’ll find but the moment Sohee spots you from his seat he lets out a dramatic gasp.

“No way. Look who’s alive.”

You roll your eyes but there’s a small smile tugging at your lips. Harvey practically tackles you in a hug before you can respond.

“We missed you,” she says. “I missed you. Work’s been so boring.”

Sungchan peeks over from the microwave. “You’re late but I'll allow it. Welcome back.” He teases.

You thank him quietly, the warmth of their welcome easing some of the tension in your shoulders until your eyes meet Anton’s.

He’s sitting off to the side by himself tapping aimlessly on his phone. His expression doesn’t shift. He gives you a nod politely but nothing more and looks away just as fast.

Your throat tightens but you say nothing. Just walk past him and clock in like you’re not silently crumbling inside.

The day passes quietly. Anton barely speaks to you, he only speaks to you unless it’s absolutely necessary. No jokes. No lingering glances only offering the occasional “you’re on towel duty” or “cover me for break?” You keep your distance, folding towels beside Harvey and watching Sungchan argue with a kid about the height requirement for the pool.

It’s almost worse than if he’d ignored you completely.

By the time your shift ends everyone’s lingering outside by the staff parking lot, too tired to rush home but not ready to say goodbye.

Sohee’s the first to speak, tossing his half-empty water bottle in the air. “Okay, I’m calling it. We need one last hangout before the summer ends.”

Harvey perks up from where she’s crouched, re-tying her shoelace. “Bonfire at my place? The lakehouse is free next weekend.”

Sungchan nods. “I’m in.”

Sohee smiles. “I’m so down.”

Harvey looks over at you, hopeful. “You’re coming, right?”

You pause. You struggled to make it through your shift, the idea of spending a whole night with everyone again…especially Anton, makes your stomach turn.

“I don’t know…” you murmur.

Harvey doesn’t back down. “Come on. This is it. Sohee leaves for Cali in two weeks, Sungchan’s off to Rutgers, you and Anton are back at Northeastern and I’ve got to go back to Brown. It’s now or never.”

You hesitate not sure but just then Anton who’s been silent this whole time, fidgeting with his car keys says quietly, “I’ll go.”

You glance at him startled. He doesn’t look at you though, doesn’t look at anyone really. Just pockets his keys and walks to his car.

Sohee blinks. “Well…okay. Didn’t expect that.”

You exhale, heart thudding. “I’ll go too.”

Harvey grins, satisfied. “Saturday the 17th. No flaking!”

Everyone agrees, tossing out snack ideas and playlist demands as you all trickle toward your cars.

This is it you think to yourself. One last night, one last chance. The countdown begins.

August 17th, 2025

A week has come and gone and just like that it’s the day of the lakehouse hang out. You’re currently in your room packing the last of your things: sunscreen, a half-full bottle of body spray, the polaroid Anton gave you last Christmas that you almost forgot about.

The bag’s a little overstuffed, the zipper stubborn but you manage to wrangle it shut. You pause for a second staring down at it, heart beating a little too fast.

You’ve been turning this day over in your head since the second the plans were finalized. At first the idea of being in the same house as Anton for a whole three days felt unbearable. You’d even called Maya asking if maybe it would be better to stay home.

“Stay home and you’re not allowed to move back into the dorms.” She said before going on to give you advice on how to approach Anton, she told you to corner him and just confess.

Your mom had different advice though. She told you to show him. “That boy has been pouring himself into you for years. Maybe it’s time you return the favor.”

You’re not sure how it’ll go. You don’t know if you’ll get the timing right or if you’ll stumble over your words. You don’t even know if he still wants this but you do know you can’t walk away without trying. Not again.

You grab your phone, charger and the pack of sour patch kids you were instructed to buy and chuck them into your tote and sling your bag over your shoulder just as Harvey honks from outside.

“Bye, Mom! Bye Dad!” you call as you race down the stairs.

Your mom pokes her head out from the kitchen. “Have fun! Be safe! And don’t forget, acts of service!”

You smile at her words then head out the door. Harvey honks again just as you step out onto the porch, duffel slung over your shoulder and your tote bag digging slightly into your arm. She waves when she spots you, sunglasses perched on her head and an open Red Bull in the cupholder.

You toss your bag in the backseat and climb in beside Harvey, the leather warm from the sun. She’s already queuing up the playlist you made together last night, twizzlers clamped between her teeth.

“Ready?” she asks, pulling out of your driveway.

You nod, tugging your seatbelt across your chest. “Let’s do this.” The car rumbles to life as she shifts the gear stick into drive.

A few minutes pass in a comfortable silence with the windows cracked before Harvey speaks. “Oh, by the way I gave Sungchan the lakehouse keys yesterday. Figured the guys could leave early to set up.”

You hum and scroll on your phone, “makes sense. Are they there now?”

She nods as she takes a turn. “Yup!”

You lean your head back against the seat and glance out the window as familiar streets pass by. Harvey hums along to the music, one hand on the wheel the other tapping her knee in rhythm.

“So…is it still weird with Anton?”

You blink slowly, still watching the trees blur past your window. “Yeah…I mean, we don’t really talk anymore. Not really.”

Harvey glances at you briefly then back at the road. “You think it’ll stay like that?”

You shrug, pulling your knees up slightly onto the seat. “I don’t know. I don’t want it to. I keep thinking if I just say the right thing or make the right move, maybe it’ll fix something, but…I don’t even know where to start.”

Harvey doesn’t respond right away. She taps her fingers on the steering wheel, waiting until she’s merged back onto the main road before glancing at you again. “It’s Anton, he’ll appreciate anything as long as it comes from you.”

You glance over at her skeptical. “You think?”

She nods, eyes fixed on the road. “He still asks about you, you know? Not all the time but he asks about the little things. If you’re eating, sleeping. If you’re okay. Things like that.”

Your throat tightens. “He does?”

“Yeah,” she says, quieter now. “He’s not gonna stay mad forever. He’s just…waiting. Waiting to know if you want this too.”

You stare down at your hands, fingers fiddling with the hem of your baby tee. “I do,” you whisper.

Harvey smiles softly. “Then tell him. Or show him. I dunno, either way, you’ve got this.”

The car rolls to a stop at a flashing yellow light, the lake shimmering just ahead in the distance. “Plus Sungchan and I are playing wingman this trip to make up for the kiss…” She continues.

You snort, adjusting your seat belt. “There’s no need. Seriously, all is forgiven.”

Harvey gives you a look. “It’s the least we can do, we practically started this.”

You crack a small smile. “Yeah, well you’re both forgiven. I swear.”

She hums but doesn’t drop it. “Even so, I can’t let the summer end with you and Anton not being together. That just feels wrong.”

You raise a brow. “It’s not that simple, Harv.”

“It kinda is. From the first shift I knew you guys were more than friends. You two just make sense.” She says with a shrug.

You feel the smile creep back up your face but say nothing in response. Harvey nudges your arm lightly as she turns into the long gravel driveway. “You’ve got all of tonight, we gotta make something shake.”

The gravel crunches under Harvey’s tires as she pulls into the driveway, tall trees casting long shadows over the lakehouse. It’s quiet except for the gentle chirp of cicadas and the base of the three men leaking from inside the house. Sungchan’s SUV is already parked off to the side, Anton’s jeep right next to it with both back doors flung open like they’d been in a rush.

Harvey shifts into park. “Home sweet lakehouse.”

You push your door open and hop out, grabbing your tote bag while Harvey takes your duffel from the backseat.

“You ready?” she asks, already halfway up the porch steps.

You nod. “As I’ll ever be.”

She shoots you a quick smile. “That’s the spirit.” Your sneakers crunch softly on the gravel as you and Harvey head toward the porch.

Sohee’s the first to greet you, tossing an empty can into the recycling bin. “Welcome ladies.”

Sungchan appears behind him, tucking his phone into his back pocket. “Perfect timing, we just finished with groceries.”

Anton rounds the corner a second later, sleeves pushed to his elbows and an empty reusable bag slung over one arm. His steps slow when he sees you but he doesn’t stop. Just gives you a small nod.

“Hey,” he says.

“Hey,” you echo, your grip tightening slightly on the strap of your tote.

There’s a pause, not uncomfortable but not quite normal either. Sungchan claps his hands together and steps into the center of the porch breaking the silent staredwon. “Alright, housekeeping! There are four rooms and five of us. One of them has bunk beds which means someone’s doubling up.”

Harvey raises a brow. “Don’t I get first pick? My parents’ house, my rules.”

Sungchan nods. “Of course. Harv gets the queen suite which means the rest of us are playing rock paper scissors for the good ones.”

You glance at Anton who’s already stepping into the circle near the porch railing with his shoulders slouched like a man heading into battle he knows he won’t win. His hands are stuffed into the pocket of his shorts, thumb tapping absently against the seam.

Anton is historically almost comically bad at rock-paper-scissors.

Freshman year, he lost a bet and had to eat wasabi straight up from the Japanese resturant Maya took you guys to. Sophomore year, he lost his turn to control the aux cord for an entire month. Even at work, when someone calls for a quick round to decide who covers bathroom cleanup, Anton’s basically guaranteed to lose.

It’s not even bad luck. He’s just predictable, he always starts with rock.

You fall into step beside the others, heart thudding. Sungchan’s grinning like he’s entering a boxing match, Sohee’s already trash-talking no one in particular and Anton…Anton just looks resigned.

Acts of service, your mom said. He’s always done them for you. Maybe it’s time you return the favor.

It’s a small thing, a stupid game but if you can win this you can hand over the best room without making it a big deal. It’ll be a start, something that says I’m trying. I remember too.

You stretch your fingers out slowly, roll your shoulders once and take your spot in the circle. Sungchan claps his hands together. “Alright. Bunk beds go to the two losers. Everyone ready?” You nod, eyes trained on Anton as he exhales a slow breath.

“Rock…paper…scissors…shoot!”

You throw scissors, Anton throws rock, Sungchan and Sohee both throw paper. You blink.

You won.

Anton looks mildly confused for a second, already stepping back like he expects to be sent to the bunk bed but you clear your throat and speak before he can say anything. “You can have my pick.”

He stops mid-step and turns to face you. “What?”

“You hate bunk beds, take the good room.” You say, tone light but sure.

He watches you for a second too long, like he’s waiting for the catch. You don’t give him one though.

A quiet snort comes from Sohee as he mumbles “simp” and Harvey throws you a glance but says nothing, just lifts a brow slightly before heading for the stairs.

Anton blinks then slowly he smiles. It’s small but real, familiar. “Thanks,” he says softly.

You nod and he disappears down the hall with his duffel, falling into step behind Harvey.

Sohee whistles low. “Okay, rock-paper-scissors for the other one then?” He turns to Sungchan who doesn’t even respond—just claps a hand on his shoulder and steers him away towards the room with the bunk beds.

You let out a small breath and glance at the empty hallway, your fingers still curled around your bag strap. Anton smiled at you.

It felt good, doing something for him. Just a small thing but maybe your mom was right. Maybe this is how you start to show him he’s always been worth it.

You let out the breath you didn’t know you were holding and finally start walking in the direction of the bedrooms. When you step into your room you note that it’s smaller than you expected, just a twin bed, a dresser and a window cracked open to let in the breeze from the lake. You drop your bag on the mattress and sit beside it, running a hand over the comforter.

You take a deep breath and unzip your bag pulling out your items. You line up your toiletries in the corner of the dresser and place your polaroid on the windowsill. 

You take a moment to examine the camera, you had complained for ages about wanting one your freshman year of college but your parents thought it would be a waste and that you wouldn’t really use it. You remember complaining to Anton in passing about how annoyed you were about not having one he didn’t say much in response (he was busy studying for his a&p final) but that Christmas you guys had done secret Santa with his friend Shotaro and Maya’s then boyfriend Seunghan. Anton didn’t pull your name, in fact he got Maya but he still gifted you the camera along with his gift for Maya.

It wasn’t weird to gift each other things during the holidays but that year you had blown through all your cash on rave tickets and uber eats, you had to dip into your savings to cover the Basketball tickets you got Seunghan so you and Anton agreed on no gifts that year. He of course didn’t listen. The camera feels like something sacred, like it’s proof that he’s always been paying attention.

The thing is so have you. Maybe not in the ways that count, maybe not when it mattered most but you’ve always been watching too. ​​You know he reads the last page of a book before he decides to commit, that he hums when he’s focused and that he can’t fall asleep unless the room is cold, even in winter.

Words have failed you before, choked in your throat when he needed them most so this time you’ll show him instead. With the small things. The way he always shows you.

Before your thoughts can stray further, a burst of laughter carries through the window. You stand and move towards it. Through the trees you spot the others outside, Sohee is running barefoot with a towel over his shoulders, Sungchan’s hauling out a cooler and Anton’s stretching out on the grass near one of the patio chairs with Harvey, heads tilted back squinting up at the sky.

You smooth out your baby tee and slip on your sandals before heading outback to join them. You cross the grass slowly, squinting against the sun and take a seat beside Harvey and Anton brushing grass off your shorts as you sit. Anton shifts slightly to make space but doesn’t say anything.

You glance at Harvey unsure of how to read the silence but she only shrugs. “I’m gonna grab my sunscreen, be back in a sec.” She says as she pushes up to her feet and dusts her hands on her thighs. 

You nod, watching her go and then glance up at the sky as if it’ll give you something to say. It doesn’t. You try anyway.

“That one looks like a rabbit. With, like…cowboy boots on.”

Anton hums beside you, noncommittal. His sunglasses hide most of his expression but you can see the corner of his mouth twitch so you decide to try again.

“Do you see it?”

He exhales slowly. “Kind of.”

It’s quiet again.

You sigh and glance toward Sohee who’s crouched at the cooler pulling out a few drinks. Anton notices too and calls out casually, “Toss me one?”

Sohee hums, grabs one at random and chucks it toward him. Anton catches it without looking, already popping the tab with his thumb.

Your eyes flick to the label. Passionfruit. Your stomach twists.

It only happened once years ago. The two of you were ten sitting poolside at Anton’s cousin’s graduation cookout when Anton reached for a popsicle from the cooler without checking the flavor. Twenty minutes later he was doubled over on the grass, his lips swelling and throat tightening barely able to breathe while everyone around you panicked.

It was the first time you saw fear on his face.

You remember his mom’s shaking hands as she stabbed the Epipen into his thigh, the ride to the ER, the way Anton tried to crack a joke through the oxygen mask like it wasn’t that big a deal but it was, it was terrifying.

You never forgot.

After that, you started keeping mental notes. Not just passionfruit but dog-hair, pollen, random tree nuts. Even the specific brand of protein powder that gave him a rash once during sophomore year.

Your body moves before your brain finishes processing and you swat the can from his hand, the aluminum clattering to the grass.

Anton jolts. “What the hell?”

Sohee blinks. “Dude?”

You’re already reaching down to pick up the bottle to take it far far away from Anton. “Sorry! Sorry! it’s just it’s passionfruit.”

Anton furrows his brow.

“You’re allergic,” you say softly, smoothing your palm nervously over your leg.

Anton stares at you for a second, then down at the can like it burned him. “Oh.”

Sohee mumbles, “Sorry man I didn’t know,” and goes back to rummaging through the cooler like nothing happened.

You push up to your feet. “I’ll get you something else.”

You walk over to the cooler and hand Sohee the can ignoring how your cheeks burn as you dig out a can of coke. When you return Anton’s still sitting there, slightly stiff but not as tense.

You hold the can out. “Here. You like coke, right?”

His lips part like he might say something but he just takes it with a quiet, “Yeah. Thanks.”

You nod and start to sit back down but before you do, he’s already standing. He calls out to Sohee and says something about filling up the water guns and jogs off.

You let yourself sink into the grass again, alone this time. You purse your lips, at least he took the coke.

You stay there in the grass for a while, legs stretched out and fingers absently tugging at a stray thread on your shorts. You watch Anton and Sohee fill up water balloons while Sungchan works on grilling the meat for later. You’re just starting to space out again when the back door swings open with a bang. You look up in time to see Harvey ginning like a maniac holding one of the water guns Anton had filled.

“Don’t scream,” she says and then immediately blasts you in the chest with freezing cold water.

You shriek, instinctively curling in on yourself. “What the hell!?”

She's already halfway across the lawn, cackling as she aims at Sohee next, catching him right in the back. He screams loud enough to startle birds out of the tree.

“You’re so dead,” you shout, pushing up from the grass and chasing after her only to get hit again mid-run but by Sohee this time.

Sungchan groans and throws the grill lid over the skewers. “So immature!” but he’s already jogging toward the cooler, yanking it open and grabbing two of the bigger water guns plus a few half-filled balloons.

“Come on,” he calls while tossing one of the guns your way.

You catch it without thinking and duck behind the patio chair again for cover. Water drips from your shirt sticking to your skin but you’re grinning now.

Across the yard, Sohee’s yelling something about revenge while Harvey darts behind a tree laughing so hard she almost drops her gun.

You wait until Sohee’s distracted reloading then pop up and blast him in the side. He yelps and whirls around, slipping a little in the grass “Really? You wanna start this?” He shouts already aiming his gun right at you but before he can spray you back a water balloon nails him square in the chest courtesy of Sungchan.

Sohee lets out a choked scream. “Oh, you’re both dead.”

You don’t wait to see what happens next. You break into a sprint bolting across the lawn until you catch Harvey still hiding behind the tree. She shrieks when she sees you coming but you’ve already got the shot.

“Ah! Okay! Okay!” She yells.

You whip around just in time to see Anton sneaking up behind Sungchan with the water hose. You catch his eye and toss him a nod, circling wide while he creeps closer.

“Now!” You shout, Anton raises the hose and sprays down Sungchan while you pump the last of your water gun. Sungchan doesn’t stand a chance.

He stands there dripping, head low as he takes the beating. “The irony,” He says dryly. You snort at that, Anton’s laughing too, shaking water from his curls. It’s the first time in weeks it feels like you’re all just…okay. Like it’s June again and you’re all still figuring each other out.

You look over at Anton just as the thought crosses your mind but get snapped out of it when Sohee throws a balloon directly at your face.

You gasp, stumbling back as water drips down your chin.

“Jimmy Lee!” You shout.

He’s already sprinting across the lawn. You charge after him soaked and grinning, shouting his name while the others cheer you on.

The water balloon fight doesn’t last for much longer after that, soon everyone collapses across the lawn in soaked heaps.

Sohee’s sprawled on the grass groaning dramatically while thumbing at his ear. “I can hear my heartbeat,” he mutters.

Harvey’s lying next to him cackling and kicking her legs like a kid. Sungchan and Anton are off to the side, sitting shoulder to shoulder on the deck steps both still dripping as they laugh at something you can’t hear. It’s nice seeing them like that again.

Your gaze flicks to the folded stack of towels near the cooler. You grab one without thinking. You shake it out as you walk towards the pair, still damp yourself with the ends of your shorts clinging to your thighs. The grass squishes under your feet, warm and wet.

Anton notices you first, his laughter fades just slightly as his eyes catch on the towel in your hands. You don’t say anything, just offer it out to him.

He blinks once then just stares at the towel. He doesn’t move to take it, just looks at it then up at you like he’s trying to figure out if this means something.

It’s quiet for a beat too long so you clear your throat and say softly, “I didn’t want you to catch a cold.” That seems to pull him back. His fingers curl around the towel and he finally takes it.

You give a quick nod and turn before he can say anything. 

You grab another towel from the pile and press it to your arms drying off slowly as you stand on the deck.

Harvey’s the first to break the silence. “I’m starving. Did you ever finish grilling, Sungchan?”

Sungchan stretches “Yeah. Should still be warm but we should probably rinse off and clean up before dinner, though.”

That sets everyone in motion. Sohee groans as he rolls onto his stomach, mumbling something about needing a nap then slowly starts pushing himself up.

You fall into step with them as you all head inside, breaking off one by one to your rooms to shower and change.

You take your time rinsing off in your bathroom. When you’re done you wrap your hair in a towel and change into the sundress you packed, it’s light yellow with little white flowers lining the hem. You even do your makeup, soft and simple with a little mascara, blush and a bit of gloss.

You head downstairs and find Sungchan and Sohee curled up on opposite ends of the couch shouting at a soccer match like they’re coaching from the sidelines. Sungchan’s yelling something about offside; Sohee throws a pillow at him and yells louder. You don’t even try to follow what’s happening.

Harvey’s in the kitchen, humming to herself as she stacks food on her plate. She’s wearing a bubble skirt and a sleeveless hot pink top with her hair clipped up and gold hoops. When you enter the kitchen she lights up instantly.

“You look so cute!” she says, handing you a plate.

You glance down at your dress and offer a small smile. “Thanks. Have you seen Anton?”

Harvey shakes her head. “Mm-mm. Probably still getting ready.”

You nod, eyes flicking toward the hallway. Harvey leans her hip against the counter and eyes you for a beat. “How’s it going?”

You shift the plate in your hands. “Not much progress but it seems better than before. Kind of.” You admit.

She bites into a piece of steak then bumps your shoulder gently with hers. “You two will work it out, he just needs a minute.” She says.

Then she pushes off the counter and walks off toward the living room, calling out something to Sohee as she flops onto the armchair with her food. You’re left standing there in the kitchen, your stomach suddenly tight even though you haven’t eaten all day.

You glance down at your plate and start building it with steak, rice, two sausages, some salad, a slice of sourdough and some sauces. You’re just about to grab a fork when you hear footsteps.

Anton rounds the corner, hair dry and the sleeves of his oversized white pullover pushed up to his elbows.

He walks over slowly, gaze flicking from you to the counter then back. Before he can grab a plate though, you hold out the one in your hands.

“I made you one, didn’t want it to get cold.” You say, trying not to sound too eager.

He looks at the plate then at you. His brows draw together. “I can make my own,” he says flatly. 

You keep your hand out. “I know but I already put your favorites on it,” you say, voice soft. “Don’t want it to go to waste, right?”

There’s a beat of silence where you think he might reject you but instead, he takes the plate with a short huff of breath and a quiet, “Thanks.”

He doesn’t meet your eyes as he turns and walks toward the others.

You exhale slowly and grab another plate for yourself. You move on autopilot, stacking a bit of everything. Once your plate’s done you carry it into the living room and settle into the open end of the couch.

Sungchan has switched the TV to a Marvel movie now, one of the older ones and the opening scene is already playing. Harvey tosses a comment over her shoulder about being bored already and Sohee launches into a whole rant as he balances his plate on his knees.

Anton doesn’t say much. He’s sitting at the far end of the couch, eyes on the screen and plate resting in his lap. He eats slowly, mechanically, like his mind’s somewhere else.

You say nothing and pick at your food, maybe acts aren’t enough.

___

The movie ends before you even realize it, the screen fading to black as the credits roll and Sohee groans something about it being mid. Dinner’s long been finished with plates cleared and drinks watered down.

Sungchan stretches with a dramatic yawn and claps his hands once. “Alright bonfire time.”

Harvey perks up immediately. “Finally! Help me bring out the s’mores stuff.” She says, already on her feet grabbing your wrists.

Sohee mumbles something about needing to piss and disappears down the hall. Sungchan nods toward the patio. “I’ll get the wood ready with Anton.”

You follow Harvey into the kitchen and grab all the items needed before heading out back with arms full of marshmallows and graham crackers.

You walk with her toward the firepit but your eyes keep drifting toward the edge of the yard where Anton and Sungchan are dragging over logs.

It stings. Anton’s barely spoken to you and yet somehow he’s fine talking to Sungchan. He kissed you, not the other way around and yet it’s you Anton can’t even look at.

You blink hard and keep moving.

You were supposed to spend this summer side by side. One last stretch of borrowed time before everything changed—before grad school and a gap year. It was meant to be late nights and dumb inside jokes and off guard point fives. Not this. Not silence and walking on eggshells around the person who used to know you best.

You’d promised yourself you’d fix it. That today would be the start, that maybe if you showed him it would be enough.

So you made sure he got the best room. Switched out the soda he’s allergic to while no one else seemed to care. Made sure he got the first towel because you knew he wouldn’t grab it himself. You made him a plate before Sungchan went back for seconds and his favorites were gone and still he’s looked through you all day. Like none of it mattered, like you don’t matter to him anymore.

You glance over again and catch him mid-laugh at something Sungchan says. His shoulders shake and it hits you in the gut. You haven’t made him laugh like that in weeks. You don’t even know if you still can.

Is this how your last summer ends? With you loving him in silence and him pretending not to see?

The ache turns into something heavier. You blink again, faster this time like that’ll make it all go away. Like you can still fix it if you just try harder.

Then you see him heading towards you with arms full of firewood and something in you snaps. One last act. Just one more. Maybe this will do it. Maybe this time, he’ll see.

You move before you can think.

“Here—let me help,” you say meeting him halfway, reaching out before he’s even settled the stack in his arms.

He shifts slightly, confused. “I’ve got it.”

“I know,” you say, breath tight. “But just…let me.”

“____.” His tone sharpens. “It’s fine. I said I’ve got it.”

You shake your head, hands already at the edge of the stack. “Please. I want to help.”

“Stop,” he says again. “Seriously. Stop.”

But you can’t. You can’t stop. Not now. Not when this feels like the only thing left you can do.

You reach for the top log, trying to ease it from his arms but it catches rough against your palm. A sharp sting rips through your hand and you cry out, instinctively letting go. The log hits the ground with a loud thud.

Your hand jerks back and you don’t need to look to know it’s bleeding. Anton drops everything.

“Shit!” He’s in front of you in a second, crouched down, brows pulled tight as his eyes find your hand. “Let me see it.”

He doesn’t wait for you to say anything. Just grabs your wrist gently and pulls you inside. Leaving behind a stunned Harvey and Sungchan.

“It’s not bad,” you say, trying to wave it off even though it kind of is. Blood wells up from the cut and slides toward your wrist.

He exhales through his nose. “____.” He says in warning.

He grabs a dish towel and presses it into your hand then ducks into the half-bath down the hall, coming back with the first-aid kit. He doesn’t look at you as he turns on the tap and reaches for your hand again. The water runs cold over your skin, stinging slightly as it washes away the blood. You flinch but Anton doesn’t loosen his grip. 

He presses the gauze to your cut and you hiss softly but he doesn’t stop. He grabs a bandage and gingerly wraps your hand.

“I’m sorry,” you say quietly.

He doesn’t answer.

“I wasn’t trying to—I just thought maybe if I helped—”

“Why are you doing this?” He asks suddenly, not harsh but exhausted. You look up at him to meet his gaze but words fail you yet again.

“You’ve barely said two words to me for weeks,” he says, eyes glassy, expression pulled tight with something akin to pain. “And now you’re out there hurting yourself trying to carry firewood?”

Your throat tightens. “I didn’t know how else to show you I still care.” Anton blinks, like the words physically hit him. He steps back like he needs the space. Like being too close to you right now might split him open.

“D-don’t say that.” He takes a step back, his head shaking like he’s trying to make sense of it, of you.

You open your mouth to speak, to explain but he cuts you off.

“You say you care now but when I stood in front of you and told you I was in love with you, you just…stood there.” His voice cracks like he still can’t believe it happened.

“You didn’t say it back. You didn’t call. You didn’t text. You didn’t do anything.” He laughs, but it’s dry. Hollow. “You disappeared.”

“Anton, I didn’t mean to—”

He swallows hard, breath hitching as he cuts you off yet again. “I waited! Every day, I waited! I thought maybe you just needed time. That you’d come back when you were ready but weeks went by and you—” He cuts himself off, blinking fast, like it’s too much to say out loud.

“I had to be the one to reach out first. After all that, I had to make the first move. You’re the one who kissed Sungchan and yet I was somehow the one on your front porch!”

You start to speak again, heart racing. “That wasn’t fair, it wasn’t—”

“But this is!?” he asks, voice booming.

You deflate. He’s right, none of this is fair to him. You told yourself you were being careful, thoughtful, realistic even but the truth is, you were scared. You let him give you everything and gave him nothing back and now he’s standing here, hurt and angry and still waiting for you to say something.

You chose silence once, you’re not doing it again.

“You’re right.”

Anton freezes, caught off guard. His chest rises and falls but he doesn’t speak. He doesn’t believe it yet.

“I haven’t been fair and I know sorry isn’t enough but I am. I’m sorry.” You say louder now. You’re shaking but you don’t even care.

“The reason I didn’t say it back—” Your voice catches but you push through it. “The reason I stood there like an idiot when you poured your heart out is because I thought we missed our chance. Not because I didn’t feel the same but because this is our last summer.” You’re crying now. Full-on.

“We have two weeks before fall sem starts. Everything is changing and I told myself we couldn’t make it work because if I believed we could then I’d have to admit how badly I wanted it.”

He’s staring at you, blinking back tears of his own.

“I didn’t say it because if I said it,then I’d have to live with knowing I could lose it.”

You step forward, hands curled into fists like your body doesn’t know what to do with the truth anymore.

“I’m in love with you, Anton.”

He exhales sharply, like the air’s been knocked out of him but you feel like a weight has been lifted off of your chest and you can finally breathe again.

“I felt it that night during the storm and I knew it when we had dinner with your parents.” You swallow hard. This is way outside of your comfort zone but Anton is worth it, a future with him is worth anything.

“I was selfish. I know I was. I didn’t give you the chance to choose, I decided for both of us that it couldn’t work. I’m sorry.”

Anton’s lips part like he’s going to say something but no words come out. His eyes are red. His shoulders are trembling.

Then, hoarse and low he says, “Say it again.”

You blink at him, chest pounding.

“What?”

“Say it again.”

You take a breath. Then another. “I’m in love with you,” you say, steady now. “I’m so in love with you it physically hurts to keep it in.”

For a split second, neither of you moves, just stare at each other until Anton makes the first move. He’s across the space in two steps, cupping your face in his hands like he’s afraid you’ll vanish.

His mouth crashes into yours, all teeth and desperation and shaking hands. It’s not gentle. It’s not careful. It’s everything he’s been holding back, everything you’ve been too afraid to say, poured into the space between your lips.

You kiss him back with equal force. His hands slide into your hair, tugging you even closer like the space between your bodies is suddenly too much. You grip the front of his shirt, curling your fingers into the fabric, holding him like you’re scared the second you let go this will all disappear.

There’s nothing pretty or practiced about it. It’s uncoordinated and messy. Your teeth clash once, your noses bump and still neither of you pulls away. You’re both breathing hard, tears still drying on your cheeks.

When he finally slows it’s only because he needs to catch his breath but even then he doesn’t let go. His forehead presses against yours, both of you panting.

His voice comes out low. “You don’t get to leave again.”

You shake your head, lips brushing his as you whisper, “I won’t.” And then he kisses you again.

You move your hands to the back of his neck and thread your fingers through his hair. He places his hands on your lower back and rubs soothing circles onto your back.

“I love you,” he whispers against your lips, sending butterflies into your stomach. He leans back in and kisses you again, this time with a bit more force. He slides his tongue across your bottom lip asking for entrance. When you don’t open up, he slides his hands down your back and grabs your ass and pulls you into him, making your core grind against him, causing you both to gasp. His tongue slips into your mouth, curling around yours.

You don’t say anything as he grabs your hand and pulls you with him, not even giving you time to breathe.

You stumble through the hallway, half-dizzy from the way he kisses you between steps; quick, breathless kisses against your jaw, your cheek, your mouth almost like he can’t wait until you’re alone. You make it to the stairs and he doesn’t let go of you even then. One arm stays wrapped around your waist, his fingers splayed tight against your hip as you climb together, lips brushing, breaths colliding, neither of you willing to part for longer than a second.

By the time you reach his bedroom door, your hands are in his hair, his lips hot against your throat and you’re laughing. He fumbles with the knob, pushes the door open and then slams it shut behind you with more force than necessary.

You don’t care what anyone else hears.

He lifts you slightly as he walks you backward, mouths still pressed together and you let him guide you until the back of your knees hit the edge of his bed. He lays you down with all of the care in the world and then he’s hovering over you, hands braced on either side of your head, staring at you like you’re something he never thought he’d be allowed to touch.

His hands fall down to your hips, pushing your dress up to feel the softness of your stomach beneath his palms with battered breaths. You gasp at the feeling of his soft hands and the pressure he slightly applies, his body pinning you deeper back as he continues exploring your mouth with his own.

You pull back slightly, breathing heavily and your lips red and plump with saliva. Anton smirks at the sight, his thumb coming up to pull down your bottom lip with the tip of his finger before moving his mouth to the sensitive skin of your neck.

The strands of his hair are silky beneath your fingertips as you gasp and tug at the roots as he bites down on a certain area of your neck that makes your core clench.

“Ton,” you whisper, whimpering at the feeling of his palm applying pressure lightly against your navel. “Are we-?”

Anton opens his eyes, his hands stilling immediately as he moves his face in front of yours. “Do you want to?”

You look at him through your lashes and stare at his face for a minute trying to decipher what he’s thinking. He’s always been a person who wears their emotions on their face and now, as you look up into his eyes searching for any hesitation- you find none. You find Nothing but pure love and admiration.

“I do.” You nod

Then he kisses you again. Slower now, deeper too. His mouth moves from yours to your neck, trailing warm, open-mouthed kisses down your skin and you gasp when he finds that one spot that makes you arch into him.

Your fingers fumble with the hem of his pullover and he doesn’t hesitate. He helps pull it off in one motion, tossing it aside without ever taking his eyes off you. You sit up just enough to do the same with your dress and his hands are on your skin before it even hits the floor.

Clothes come off slowly, one piece at a time. Between kisses. His fingers trail along your sides like he’s trying to commit every inch of you to memory. You’re breathless, skin hot, pulse pounding beneath his touch.

One of your hands fumbles against the sheets, clutching the fabric tight in your fist as his hands slide lower, slipping beneath what little clothing you have left between you.

You gasp as his hips press into yours, as he kisses the softest part of your shoulder and breathes your name.

August 18th, 2025

You wake to the sound of cicadas and the sun peeking through the linen curtains. The world outside is just beginning to stir but inside this room everything feels still.

The sheets are warm and tangled around your legs and Anton’s arm is draped heavy across your waist, your bodies pressed close beneath the comforter. He’s still asleep, chest rising and falling, lashes resting against his cheeks. You blink up at him as you recall last night.

The words whispered, the way his hands trembled when they touched you, the kisses, the confessions and the sex. Anton was slow and careful at first, then deeper and rougher going round after round.

You shift just slightly, burying your face against his shoulder. He doesn’t stir, just exhales softly.

For so long, the thought of summer ending felt like a countdown you couldn’t stop. A slow, creeping ache would overcome you every time you remembered what was coming. You were so scared that you’d missed your chance but here you are in his bed, in his arms. You press a soft kiss to his shoulder and tuck yourself even closer.

You’re not clinging to August anymore. You’re not holding your breath for one more weekend or one more night or one more moment.

Maya’s been your roommate since freshman year—assigned totally at random and somehow it just worked. You weren’t expecting much but she showed up with a full-size speaker, a neon pink kettle and two coffee mugs.

She's funny, stylish and has been the kind of friend who knows when you need to be told to get it together and when you need someone to bring you overpriced sushi and sit with you in silence. Three years later you still share the same room, same favorite mugs, same playlists on loop. She's become a second home.

Your first home however has always been Anton, your childhood best friend.

You met him when you were nine in the middle of an English immersion summer camp neither of you really wanted to be at. He sat next to you during arts and crafts and told you your macaroni picture frame was ugly and then gave you the glue stick you were missing. Somehow, that was the beginning.

From that point on the two of you did everything together. Swim lessons, school projects, awkward middle school dances where both of you swore you’d rather die than slow dance with anyone else. Every summer in high school the two of you found a job be it ice cream stands, lifeguarding, even one cursed summer as camp counselors. It was a tradition, one that lasted longer than either of you expected.

Now, you’re both rising seniors in college and time’s harder to come by. If he’s not busy with swim practice then it’s late-night labs or RA responsibilities but even with the time limitations, some things haven’t changed.

You still show up to all of his swim meets sitting in the same spot cheering loud enough for him to hear underwater. Still make time to grab boba every Friday night as a trio and occasionally make time for off campus frat parties where he watches over you and Maya like a hawk.

“You still haven’t packed your toiletries,” Maya points out, tossing a pair of your sneakers into a box without bothering to make sure they’re even the same pair.

“I like to keep my skincare in reach,” you say, which is mostly true. You just don’t want to admit you haven’t figured out how to pack twelve steps of face wash and serums into one Ziploc bag.

“You’re not going off-grid,” she replies. “You’re going home.”

“Same thing.”

Maya gives you a look but doesn’t say anything before standing and stretches, glancing at the mess around the room. “This better be mostly done by tonight because I am not helping you do a 2 a.m panic pack.” She warns, heading toward her desk.

You snort, “babes, you and I both know that’s not true.”

Maya tries her best to hide her smile but can’t and rolls her eyes before opening her laptop. “Screw off,” she mutters, pulling up a stats lecture she’s already watched twice today. There’s a knock at the door before you can respond.

Maya looks up brows raised. “You expecting someone?” You shake your head and cross the room, tugging the door open without thinking.

Anton stands on the other side, holding a tray containing three drinks in one hand and a roll of industrial-sized trash bags in the other.

“Hi,” he says like it’s the most casual thing in the world, like he’s not supposed to be studying for his neurobiology final. Like showing up at your door with Dunkin’s and a stack of trash bags is a normal Tuesday thing.

You blink. “Aren’t you supposed to be studying?”

“Figured you’d be knee-deep in panic packing, I brought reinforcements.” He says, surveying the room.

You say nothing and step aside to let him in. He moves past you and enters the room like he’s done a hundred times before and sets the drinks down on your desk.

“Mango pineapple lemonade refresher,” he says, sliding yours toward you. Then, to Maya, “Strawberry matcha, extra ice, no sweetener.”

Maya happily takes the drink and thanks him before turning back to her laptop. Anton gestures to the room. “Alright. Where do you want me?”

“You have an exam,” you remind him.

“Yeah and I’ll pass,” he says as if it’s the most obvious thing then adds, “and you’ll forget your toothbrush if I don’t help so really I’m doing us both a favor.”

Maya snorts. “He’s not wrong.”

You sigh, reaching for your drink. “Fine. You can stay but only if you promise not to judge how I pack.”

Anton’s already taping a box shut. “No promises.”

You sip your drink as Anton settles on the floor beside your pile of clothes, legs stretched out casually peeling tape from the roll like he’s the one moving out. You glance at Maya who’s still half-focused on her laptop and say, “I’m gonna miss you.”

She doesn’t look up. “Okay, drama queen.”

“I’m serious, you’re ditching us. Going all the way to Japan while we rot in Jersey.” You pout.

That gets her attention. She sighs and finally looks at you just in time for you to toss your weighted dino Antoinette, a birthday gift from Anton right at her head.

She catches it with both hands and clutches it to her chest. “You’re right. I don’t love you. Only Antoinette.”

You roll your eyes, smiling. “Shut up.”

“FaceTime exists, you’re gonna call me every day. We’ll groupwatch trashy TV and complain like always.”  She says, petting the dino like it’s a cat.

“Promise?”

She smirks. “Only if you don’t cry during move out.”

You flip her off and she grins, setting Antoinette on her lap before turning her attention back to her screen. “So what are you two doing this summer anyway? Internships? Summer classes? Something productive?”

You shrug. “I don’t have plans. Probably just sleep, eat and annoy Anton.”

Anton hums without looking up from the hoodie he’s folding. “Confirmed.”

You glance at him. “What about you Ton?”

He shrugs. “Nothing locked in but I saw the old country club near my house is hiring again.”

You sit up straighter. “Wait—the one from freshman year?”

Anton glances up at you, smiling. “Yep. Same one.”

Maya looks between the two of you. “You guys worked at a country club?”

You grin. “It was our first summer job. We were like…fourteen? Mostly did poolside snacks and towel returns.”

Anton nods. “And there was the golf cart incident.” Maya raises a brow.

“She stole one of the golf carts and crashed it,” he says, gesturing at you.

You gasp. “That is not how it happened.”

He grins. “It absolutely is and I took the blame.”

You shake your head, laughing. “First of all, he’s being dramatic. Second of all, he got off with a warning. He’s making it sound worse than it was.”

“What can I say? I’m a man of the people,” Anton says, sipping his drink.

You roll your eyes. “They let you off because of your dad.”

“More like because of my amazing personality,” he says proudly.

“Privilege,” you correct.

“Semantics.”

You shake your head, still laughing as you reach for another hoodie to fold. Maya’s grinning behind her laptop clearly entertained. Then Anton casually says, “We should apply again.”

You pause mid-fold. “To the country club?”

“Yeah,” he says, like it’s obvious. “One last job. For old times’ sake.”

You glance at him and raise your brows. “Wait, you’re serious?”

Anton nods. “Why not? It’s close to home, the pay wasn’t terrible and we already know half the staff’s probably the same. No stress. Just summer.”

You eye him. “Why though? You could intern anywhere or do research or I don’t know…rest?”

He shrugs. “And you could do the same but we both know you’re not doing anything structured this summer.”

“That’s…not untrue,” you admit.

Maya shuts her laptop with a soft click. “Okay, hold on. You two are telling me you’re seriously considering spending your last free summer wearing ugly polos and dodging rich people at a country club pool?”

You and Anton both nod. She sighs. “Gosh, you’re perfect for each other.”

You throw a sock at her.

Anton leans back on his hands, sipping the last of his drink and not commenting on Maya’s words. “Come on. No essays, no cramming, just a few shifts a week and bad iced coffee, and maybe some golf cart redemption.”

You narrow your eyes. “Only if you’re driving this time.”

“I’m an excellent driver.”

“Says the man who didn’t get his license until last year.”

It’s Anton’s turn to throw a sock at you. “And yet it only took me one try unlike some people in this room.”

You gasp scandalized. “Low blow! It’s not my fault my first instructor had it out for me!”

Anton laughs and dodges the squishmallow you throw at his head. “And the second and third time?”

You roll your eyes,  “That’s rich coming from the guy who thought parallel parking meant ‘close enough.’”

Anton raises his hands, grinning. “Okay, okay. Truce.”

You toss the last hoodie into a box. “Yeah, I thought so.”

Anton shakes his head but says nothing. Maya pushes her laptop away and stands, stretching like she’s aged ten years. “Alright, I’m gonna shower before I lose the will to study.”

She grabs her caddy and heads toward the bathroom, pausing only to scoop Antoinette off her desk and cradle her under one arm.

“I’m stealing your daughter,” she says over her shoulder.

“Just don’t drop her,” you call back.

“You won’t get far,” Anton says, barely looking up. “Antoinette’s got separation anxiety like her mom.” He jokes.

You slap his arm as Maya snorts. The door clicks shut behind her and the room settles into something quieter. Anton’s still sitting on the floor, legs stretched out fiddling with the edge of a new piece of tape.

He leans back on his hands. “You know I was serious, right?”

You glance over. “About what?”

“The country club.”

“Oh. Yeah. I figured.”

“I mean, it’s dumb but…” He shrugs. “It’d be fun. Like—one last summer. Just us. Before everything…changes.”

You don’t answer right away because it sounds fun, of course it does but under the surface something else tugs at you. It’s the realization that this might really be the last summer like this. He’s right…things are changing and they’re changing fast.

Fall means senior year, your last one. After that he’s off to med school probably in a different state. Maybe a different coast. You’re taking a gap year to travel, to finally breathe after years of nonstop coursework. You don’t have much time before “just showing up” turns into scheduled calls and missed birthdays.

You’ve known him for thirteen years. He’s been in every version of your life and suddenly that constant is starting to shift.

No more Friday night boba runs. No more post-practice phone calls. No more knowing someone will always be exactly where they’ve always been. It hits you and it stings. All you’ve ever known is him.

You don’t say any of that though. Instead, you nod. “Yeah. Let’s do it.”

He looks over at you, surprised. “Yeah?”

You nod. “Yeah I’m down.”

Anton smiles, soft and boyish like it’s just another one of your shared inside jokes. “I’ll send you the link.”

And that’s it.

You don’t need to say anything more. He doesn’t push. You both just sit there in the middle of the mess, pretending like next summer isn’t already pulling you in opposite directions.

May 30th 2025

Your name tag clicks as you fasten it to your new polo—navy blue, crisp and slightly too long in the sleeves. The country club rebranded since the last time you worked there. No more ketchup red polos or painfully thick khakis. Everything’s been toned down, modernized.

It’s been a week since spring semester ended. The dorms are cleared, Maya’s off in Japan and you’re back home in Jersey sleeping in your childhood bed but everything feels different. You feel different. Mostly because of what this summer means.

You want this summer to be good.

Scratch that, not just good but fun, worth remembering. You want to laugh until you’re on the verge of vomiting, take off guard point fives and have stories to tell when you’re older. If this is your last summer being attached at the hip with your best friend, then it better be one for the books.

You head down the stairs and make a quick detour into the kitchen. The fridge hums quietly as you open it, grabbing the water bottle you left chilling overnight. It’s already fogging from the heat. You stuff it into your tote before slipping into your beat up New Balances by the door. Your phone buzzes just as you’re smoothing out your shirt.

10:53 am | ton🦕: outside ☀️

In the living room, your parents are lounging on the couch, half-watching the morning news with matching mugs.

“I’m heading out!” you call.

“Tell Anton we say hi and that we love him!” your mom shouts over the TV.

Your dad raises his mug like a salute. “Drive safe.”

“Will do,” you say, already stepping outside.

Anton’s Jeep is parked out front, angled just slightly onto the curb like he’d pulled in too fast and couldn’t be bothered to fix it. The silver paint reflects the sky, windshield dotted with pollen. He’s standing next to the passenger door in his lifeguard uniform, his name tag slightly crooked.

The Jeep was a gift from his dad last year—a “congrats on passing your road test” paired with an “I’m sorry I couldn’t be there.” It’s nice. Too nice honestly but Anton doesn’t brag about it. He hardly talks about it at all.

He was bummed his dad couldn’t teach him how to drive. Not that he ever said it outright but you know. He wanted his dad to be there, to sit in the passenger seat, correct his turns and congratulate him when he nailed parallel parking but his dad’s still in Korea. Always has been and while Anton understands why it doesn’t make it suck any less.

You don’t bring it up though, neither of you do. Some things are just better left unspoken. When he sees you Anton straightens up and pulls open the door.

You raise a brow. “Still opening doors for me? Must be nice, having money and manners.”

He snorts. “Didn’t realize chivalry was a tax bracket thing.”

You grin. “Your mom really raised you right.”

“She tried,” he says, shutting the door behind you before jogging around to the driver’s side.

He slides in, adjusts the a/c and and pulls away from the curb.

“My parents say hi,” you say. “And that they love you.”

His mouth quirks. “Tell them I say it back. My mom says hi too.”

You settle in as the car coasts through your neighborhood. As he slows at the first stop sign, he gestures to the backseat. “Oh— I packed you lunch.”

You look at him shocked. “You did what?”

“In the lunchbag, kimchi fried rice with spam. My mom made the rice, I fried the spam.”

You give him a look. “You fried?”

“It might be a little crispy but the thought counts, no?” He admits.

You snort. “Remind me to text your mom later.”

“You’re welcome, by the way.”

“I didn’t say thank you.”

He smirks. “You were thinking it.”

You don’t reply just reach into your tote and quietly pull out the water bottle you grabbed earlier. You offer it to him.

He blinks. “What’s this?”

“Cold water,” you say. “You always forget to drink when you’re on pool duty.”

He takes it from you slowly. “Thanks.”

You shrug. “It’s nothing.”

You say it’s nothing but the way his eyes linger on the bottle before setting it down makes you second guess…is it?

Is it nothing that you remembered even after all this time? That you chilled the bottle overnight just because you knew he’d forget? That he packed your favorite lunch like it was second nature or the fact that he knows your drink order without asking.

Is it nothing that your mom still calls him her other child or that your dad always asks how Anton’s doing before asking about you? That it’s been thirteen years and somehow, this still feels like home?

You tell yourself it’s nothing because if it isn’t nothing…what is it? Before you can think about that too hard, the next song clicks on through the speakers.

You freeze. “No way.”

Anton laughs. “You remember this one?”

“Growl?” you say.

He cranks it up slightly, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. You both sit there for a second, just listening.

Back in high school, Anton was obsessed with this song. Learned the lyrics and the choreo. He forced you to learn with him to keep him accountable, you still remember late night dance practices in your garage. He ran those practices like you were in boot camp.

He told you one night after lifeguard training that he wanted to be a K-pop idol. That he was serious. Like—leave school, move to Seoul and audition serious.

It’s not that you didn’t believe in him. Anton’s stupidly talented, he can play multiple instruments, produce, sing, dance. If anyone could’ve made it, it was him but his parents shut it down. They said it wasn’t stable, that he had too much potential in science and medicine to “throw it away on a whim.”

He never brought it up again. He still makes music sometimes, beats in his room, covers for fun, a little keyboard loop here and there but it’s just a hobby now.

You glance at him. “You still remember the words?”

He nods slowly. “Not all of them. But yeah.” You start humming and he joins in.

The windows are down, the music’s too loud. You’re both singing off-key and half-laughing. The ride continues like this until Anton turns the music down as you pull into the long driveway of the country club.

The stone entrance is the same but everything else looks newer and cleaner. The landscaping is sharp, the hedges manicured like they’ve been cut with scissors and the old faded sign has been swapped for something sleeker, modernized with some fancy rebrand name neither of you care enough to remember.

He parks in the staff lot angled slightly on the curb like always and hops out to grab your bags before you can even unbuckle your seatbelt.

You follow him inside through the back entrance down a hallway lined with beige walls and emergency evacuation posters. The staff break room smells faintly like sunscreen and freezer burn same as it always did. At least the lockers have been upgraded, sleeker and less dented metal and sharp corners.

Anton eyes the row before stopping at the end. “Take this one,” he says, nudging open the cleanest locker.

You tilt your head. “Why?”

He shrugs. “Bigger shelf.”

You don’t argue. You just smile and tuck your stuff inside. You’re taking down your water bottle when he nudges your shoulder. “Let’s go. You know they hate when we’re late.”

You roll your eyes but follow him through the staff hallways back to the front desk, where three others are already waiting.

The first face you recognize almost immediately, he’s about three apples tall, warm-eyed and has a smirk that’s impossible to miss.

“Sohee? No way.” You blink, half-laughing.

He grins. “Look who finally came back.”

You rush over, giving him a quick hug. It’s been forever, two years at least. Sohee was your summer coworker-turned-honorary brother back when you were fourteen. He worked the snack shack while you manned the front desk and Anton kept an eye on the pool. He went to high school in the next town over but somehow you all clicked immediately. Sohee had a big basement, a decent playlist and a personality that made him easy to trust.

After graduation, he headed to California for college. Got tired of Jersey winters and wanted a change. You’ve only really kept in touch through Instagram and random texts, low maintenance, long-distance kind of friendship. The kind that picks back up like nothing changed.

“You working front desk again?” he asks, already guessing the answer.

You nod. “Duh.”

He glances at Anton. “Pool?”

Anton nods back, reaching out for a bro hug. “Wouldn’t be summer without it.”

The guy next to Sohee is new; tall, tan, slightly broader than Anton with soft brown hair and a jawline that looks carved.

“This is Sungchan,” Sohee offers. “New hire. Lifeguarding with your boy over there.” He’s leaning casually against the counter sipping a Gatorade like he’s already claimed his chill guy status.

“I’m Harvey,” the girl beside him says cheerfully. She’s shorter, hair pulled into buns with spikes and practically bouncing on her heels. “Poolside snacks. Is this your first summer too?”

You smile. “Not exactly. We worked here freshman year of high school.”

Anton nods. “Figured we’d come back for one last round.”

“Ohhh, that makes sense! I saw you guys come in together, he was carrying your bag and opened the door for you and everything. You guys are so cute. Are you dating?” Harvey asks brightly.

The question stuns the group into silence.

You falter. “Oh—no, we’re just—”

“Friends,” Anton cuts in, laughing a little too fast. “Definitely just friends.”

You nod quickly. “Yeah. No. We’re just friends.”

It’s not a new question. People have been asking you that since middle school. Usually, you deny it without thinking, sometimes with a laugh, sometimes with a dramatic gag for effect. Living with Maya has made it easier to ignore the comments; she’s always teasing, always shipping, always nudging with that “but what if?”

But for some reason this time it lands wrong. Like a splinter, like something you can’t quite shake off. Especially when you glance at Anton and he’s laughing like the idea of dating you is absurd. Not even worth considering.

That…stings a little more than you expect it to. The conversation moves on.

Sungchan asks where you go to school. You tell him. He says he’s at Rutgers, studying kinesiology. He asks if you’re pre-med. You say no. He asks if you’ve ever been to Atlantic City. You say a hundred times over. It takes you a second to realize he’s flirting.

Sohee notices too, he smirks subtly, eyes flicking toward Anton who says nothing. Just stands there jaw tight arms crossed like he’s suddenly bored of the conversation.

Harvey loops back into your chat easily, bubbly and warm, clearly excited to be working her first job. You like her already.

Sohee eventually claps his hands together. “Alright losers, we should probably actually, you know, do our jobs.”

Anton mutters something under his breath and turns to Sungchan. “Let’s go before they stick us on towel duty.”

The two of them walk off toward the pool deck and Harvey waves before darting back toward the breakroom for her apron. Which leaves just you and Sohee at the desk.

He folds his arms and looks at you for a second too long.

You side-eye him. “What?”

He shrugs, clearly biting back a smile. “Just surprised. Thought maybe something would’ve changed between you two by now.”

You make a face. “Don’t start.”

“I’m not starting anything.”

“You are.”

He leans forward, elbows on the desk. “I’m just saying, if I didn’t know you guys—”

“Well, you do,” you cut in. “And there is nothing going on with me and Anton.”

He doesn’t say anything for a moment just hums like he’s filing it away for later.

You look down at the sign-in binder, suddenly very interested in the pages that haven’t been filled yet because maybe once it was easy to say there’s no you and Anton and not think twice but right now…you’re not so sure.

___

You and Sohee spend most of the morning shift alternating between joking around and pretending to be productive.

He makes fun of your growing squishmallow collection, shows you a dumb video of a goose chasing tourists and bets you ten bucks someone’s gonna try to sneak in through the tennis courts again before noon.

“You still have that one video?” he asks at one point, tapping on the desk with a pencil. “The one Anton filmed after your crash out over that burger king worker getting your order wrong.”

You laugh. “Oh my gosh! I completely forgot about that night!”

He grins. “We were so annoying.”

“We still are,” you say and he doesn’t deny it.

Right before noon a girl storms through the front entrance, sunglasses still on and sandals clacking like she owns the place. She doesn’t even say hello before launching in. “My friend’s pass isn’t working and it’s hot and I swear if I have to stand in the sun one more second—”

You stare at her blakly. “What’s the name the pass is under?”

She scoffs before answering, “Lexi.”

You check the binder. “There’s no Lexi on the guest list.”

“She’s with a member. My dad okayed it.”

“I get that but if the member didn’t authorize her, we can’t—”

She cuts you off. “Are you incompetent? I just said my dad is fine with it.”

You smile—tight and polite. “I’m just following policy. Again, if your father reaches out to the front desk we can get it sorted.”

She gives you one last huff and storms out her heels clicking. You lean back in your chair, eyes narrowing. “I hate it here.”

Sohee snorts. “You handled that like a pro.”

“She called me incompetent.”

“Yeah but you didn’t cry or threaten to quit. Growth.”

You snort and toss a pen at him. “You’re so stupid.”

He dodges. “So are you, take a break.”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re going to murder someone and I don’t want to be a witness.”

You groan but nod, grabbing your water bottle from under the desk. “Text me if another demon shows up.”

“Only if they’re hot.” You laugh and shake your head as you walk away.

Outside, the sun hits you instantly. The pool is packed, kids screaming, parents sweating and lifeguards trying to look like they’re not losing their minds. You spot Anton climbing down from the stand, towel over his shoulder, hair damp and sticking to his forehead. He meets your eye. “Break?”

“Sent out by Sohee before I committed a felony.”

Anton grins. “Be right back.”

He disappears into the staff building to grab the lunch he packed while you claim a shaded spot under a cabana kicking off your shoes and letting your socked-legs rest against the cool concrete. A breeze rolls in and you lean back, eyes half-closed.

“Hey,” someone says beside you.

You turn to find Sungchan, shirt slightly damp and water bottle in hand. “Mind if I sit?”

You shake your head. “Be my guest.”

He drops into the chair beside you, stretching like a cat. “I’m dying.”

“It’s a billion degrees out,” you agree.

“You always work front desk?”

“Yeah. It’s my thing, Anton’s tried getting me to do lifeguarding but he’s always been the better swimmer.”

“Cool,” he says and then offers you a fruit snack and asks if you’re from around here. You tell him you grew up just ten minutes down the road. He makes a joke about Jersey shore and you actually laugh. Anton rounds the corner carrying the lunchbox in one hand slushies in the other. His gaze flicks to where you’re sitting laughing at something Sungchan said and something shifts behind his eyes.

He doesn’t say hi. Doesn’t look at you. Just walks up and sets the lunchbox on the table between you without a word.

Sungchan blinks. “Hey man.”

Anton glances at him. “You’re still on break?”

“Uh…yeah?”

Anton doesn’t respond. Just raises a brow like really?

Sungchan stands slowly. “I should probably get back.”

He gives you a little wave. “See you later.” You wave back a bit thrown then turn to Anton.

“Seriously?”

He doesn’t meet your eye. “What?”

“That was rude.”

He shrugs. “Wasn’t trying to be nice.”

You narrow your eyes at him, grabbing the lunchbox and flopping back into your seat.

“You okay?” you ask.

Anton shrugs again, collapsing into the chair beside you. “Just hot.”

You snort. “Yeah, hot and grumpy.”

He gives you a side glance then finally cracks a small smile. “Yeah, well. I brought slushies. That’s gotta count for something.”

You grab yours, mango, your favorite and take a long sip. “You’re lucky you remembered. I was about to write you off for being so rude.”

Anton reaches into the lunchbox and starts unpacking the contents. Two mismatched Tupperware containers, a few napkins, two forks. You watch as he places everything on the small table between you.

He pulls out the kimchi fried rice and hands you the portion with the less-burnt spam without needing to be asked.

“You’re so weirdly domestic,” you mutter, digging in.

“I don’t know what that means.”

You grin and the silence between you settles. The heat of the afternoon hums low around you but the breeze blows in every now and then and keeps things comfortable. From across the pool, a whistle blows and a kid does a cannonball that earns gasps from half the loungers.

You kick your leg slightly. “Remember that one time some kid got his arm stuck in the vending machine?”

Anton laughs with his mouth full. “Didn’t you encourage him?”

“I did not!”

“You absolutely did. He was trying to get the last bag of Doritos and you said, and I quote, ‘bet you can reach it if you just wiggle your arm a little more.’”

“That could’ve meant anything.”

“He almost dislocated his shoulder.”

“Okay but did he get the Doritos?”

Anton points at you with his fork. “You’re the reason we have warning signs now.”

You snort, shaking your head as you take another bite. You chew slowly, watching the pool sparkle under the sun.

In a softer voice you ask, “Why’d you bring up working here again? Really.” Anton doesn’t answer right away. Just sips his slushie, eyes fixed on something far off. When he finally speaks, his voice is casual.

“Figured we’d have fun,” he says. “Just us. Like before.”

You nod before really thinking about it but the words catch up to you. Just us.

You’ve said that to each other a hundred times over the years, maybe even more. When you were kids convincing your parents to let you go on class trips. When you got your first job together. When you swore off dating apps after two back-to-back disasters. It’s always been a comfort. Something easy. Something true but now, sitting here under a cabana with your lunch still warm between you and the summer breeze curling at your ankles, it feels different.

He says it so simply, like it’s not supposed to mean anything. Like it’s obvious but your chest tightens anyway, like maybe…maybe it does mean something or could mean something.

You glance over and search his face but he’s not looking at you. Just tearing little pieces of his napkin, focused on nothing at all.

You clear your throat. “Well…so far, so good.”

His lips quirk. “Even with Sungchan?”

You let out a groan and nudge his shoulder. “Oh my gosh. He was being nice.”

“He was flirting.” He argues.

“I don’t even know him.” You counter.

“He offered you his fruit snacks.”

You stare. “That is not flirting.”

“That’s first base,” he says deadpan.

You laugh despite yourself and shake your head. “He’s cool I guess but he’s still a stranger. I barely know the guy.” You take another sip of your slushie. “Besides, no one’s stealing your spot.”

He looks over at that, just for a second. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

But even after you say it something lingers in the silence between you. Something neither of you names, not yet. You look back out at the pool, squinting against the sun and pretend not to notice the way Anton shifts beside you.

June 17th, 2025

It’s a slow afternoon at the club. Sohee’s meant to be manning the front desk with you but really he’s just spinning around in the office chair balancing a bottle of Gatorade on his head while you lazily fold brochures into lopsided thirds.

“You know,” he says, steadying the bottle with one finger, “if I wasn’t working here, I think I’d make a pretty decent spy.”

You snort, folding another brochure. “You can’t even sneak snacks past the manager without getting caught.”

“That was one time and the chips were loud.”

The side door creaks open letting in a sticky gust of summer air. Anton and Sungchan walk in from the pool deck, Sungchan’s mid-story talking animatedly with his hands and Anton looks like he’s trying not to laugh.

“—and then the kid straight-up cannonballs next to me like I don’t exist. I got splashed in the mouth.” Sungchan says frowning.

Anton shrugs. “I don’t know man, you did yell at him.”

“That crotch gremlin deserved it!”

They drift behind the desk, Sungchan flops into the second chair and kicks his feet up, Anton leans against the counter beside you standing closer than necessary. You glance at the clock, only an hour left on pool duty before rotations, Harvey had the early shift and already left.

“You’re dripping everywhere.” Sohee says glaring at Sungchan who just shrugs and shakes out his hair making Sohee groan as he gets soaked.

Just then, your manager strolls in glancing toward the darkening sky beyond the windows. His clipboard is tucked under his arm and his brows furrow slightly.

“Storm’s coming in early, might have to shut the pool soon. Don’t need the whole crew if this keeps up, anyone wanna head out early?” He announces.

Before anyone can say anything, Sohee shoots to his feet. “Yes. Me. I will gladly shoulder this burden for my best buddy pals.”

Your manager snorts. “That was fast.”

“I’m a man of action,” Sohee says, already grabbing his bag. “Sungchan, you coming?”

“Yeah, I got family stuff anyway.” Sungchan says, standing with a stretch.

Anton arches a brow. “Didn’t you say that yesterday?”

“Different side of the family,” Sungchan replies smoothly, already halfway down the hall.

You stifle a laugh as the door swings shut behind them, leaving the front desk quiet. Outside, the first low rumble of thunder rolls somewhere in the distance.

Anton glances at you and tilts his head toward the towel cart. “And then there were two.”

You sigh dramatically pushing off the counter. “Guess we better make ourselves useful.”

Anton follows you to the towel cart bumping your shoulder with his as he grabs a stack. “At least it’s just for a few hours?”

“I guess.” You mutter, folding a towel sloppily.

Just then, your manager pokes his head out from the breakroom half-distracted by the radar on his phone.

“There’s not much left. Just make sure the locker rooms are clean, stack the chairs if it rains and lock up if I’m not back by closing. I’ve got a staff meeting at the main branch.” He says.

You and Anton both blink. “Wait, you're leaving?”

He shrugs. “Storm’s rolling in so no one’s sticking around today. You two will be fine.” With that he leaves, the door swinging behind him and umbrella already up.

Anton stares after him. “Did he just abandon us mid-shift?”

You nod. “Yeah, I think that’s exactly what just happened.”

The sky grows heavier as you both finish up—tossing used towels in the bin, wiping down snack bar counters, dragging pool chairs toward the fence line as wind picks up. The club slowly empties around you. A couple teens from the tennis court wave goodbye, the remaining lifeguards shout something about “good luck,” and soon it’s just you and Anton, stacking the last of the loungers as the first drop of rain hits your arm.

You both scramble under the nearest overhang just as the clouds finally open up drenching the deck in seconds. You’re out of breath, a little damp and your shirt’s sticking to your back.

“Well, guess we’re stuck.” You breathe, watching the rain hammer the pavement from the safety of indoors.

Anton props his hands on his hips. “Could be worse.”

As if on cue the hallway lights flicker once, twice then cut out completely, leaving you in the dark.

You turn to him slowly. “Seriously?” Anton winces, hands already up in surrender. “Not my fault! How was I supposed to know!?”

You squint at him but he’s already backing toward the supply closet. “I’ll grab the flashlights.”

You huff and duck back behind the front desk. It’s weirdly peaceful here without the usual hum of air conditioning and squeals from the pool. Just the sound of rain and the occasional thunder rumble.

While he’s gone, you dig into the lower drawer under the desk and pull out Sohee’s “secret” stash of cards (the one he swears no one knows about but everyone definitely does). You grab the Uno deck and a half-empty bag of jolly ranchers, shaking the cards out and ‘shuffling’.

Anton returns with a flashlight already turned on, tucking the second into the tissue box holder for hands-free lighting.

“Please tell me you shuffled better than last time,” he says, eyeing the deck suspiciously.

You pause. “...Maybe.”

You’re both crouched behind the desk, legs tangled and cards fanned out while the flashlight glows between you. The storm outside is getting heavier and you mentally sigh knowing you can kiss your rewatch of TVD with Maya goodbye.

“Draw four.” Anton says, smug as he tosses the card down.

You gape at it, betrayed. “Dude! We just started.”

He leans back, stretching like he’s got all the time in the world. “Don’t care, pick ‘em up.”

“I’m never forgiving you.” You say as you pick up four cards.

He laughs, biting into a watermelon Jolly Rancher and tossing you a blue one without looking. You catch it and roll your eyes.

You glance at him, hair still damp from the sprint, sleeves pushed up, lips slightly pink from the candy and it hits you again, just like it did in his car on the day of your first shift, how much he means to you. How dangerous this feeling is becoming but you say nothing, just slap down a wild draw four and smirk. “Your move, loser. The color is green.”

___

Eventually, the round ends with Anton barely winning and the sugar buzz from the jolly ranchers wear off. With nothing else to do, the two of you flop back against the floor, heads tilted toward the ceiling.

“This is so boring,” you groan.

“It’s either this or alphabetizing the lost and found.”

You squint at the ceiling tiles like they hold answers. Anton shifts slightly and pulls out his phone checking the battery. “Eight percent. You want music before she dies on us?”

You nod and toss your own phone over. “Bluetooth’s still connected to the speaker in here. Just use mine.”

He queues up your liked songs on shuffle and taps play. The first song to play is Ordinary by Alex Warren. You sit up immediately. “Oh my gosh, I love this song.”

Anton raises an eyebrow, watching the way your face lights up. “I can tell.”

You hug your knees to your chest swaying a little with the beat. “I’ve been obsessed since it dropped. Wanted to see him in concert but the prices were ridiculous.”

He hums. “Wanna dance?”

You stare at him. “Right now?”

He shrugs like it’s the easiest thing in the world. “Why not?”

Your eyes search his face. He’s not teasing just asking. After a moment you slowly nod. “Yeah. Okay.”

He stands first and offers a hand which you take as you get to your feet. The two of you step around the scattered cards, the dim flashlight casting shadows behind you. The storm outside softens to a steady patter and somewhere in the distance thunder hums low.

Anton places a careful hand on your waist and you loop yours around his neck. It’s a little awkward at first, a little silly but then it isn’t.

You sway and he hums along under his breath. You snuggle closer to his chest, finding comfort in the way his chest vibrates with each note.

Your heart starts doing that thing again, fluttering and aching and racing all at once. This feels like nothing but it also feels like everything.

Suddenly Anton says, “remember when you made me promise to marry you if we’re both single by thirty?”

You pull back slightly to look at him. “Wait—when did I say that?”

He raises an eyebrow. “Sophomore year. After things ended with that junior—what was his name? Woobin?”

You gasp, “Oh my gosh! I lost so many aura points that year.” You say as a shiver runs down your spine.

You were with Wonbin for a little over six months though sometimes it felt like twice as long.

At first he was exciting, mysterious with a dry sense of humor and a way of making you feel like the center of his universe until you weren’t.

What started as something fun and flirty quickly slipped into something…heavier. You started bending more, giving more. Time, patience, pieces of yourself and he kept taking. He never asked you to shrink yourself, not out loud at least but somehow you found yourself doing it anyway. To keep the peace and to keep him.

He didn’t like that Anton was always around. Didn’t like that your phone lit up with his texts or that you studied together late. No matter how many times you explained that Anton had been there long before him, that it was never like that, he’d just give you a look and change the subject. He never raised his voice, never cussed you out but he was cold in all the places warmth should’ve lived.

And his friends. You shiver at the reminder of them. Girls who barely spoke to you, who made inside jokes you weren’t part of, who looked at you like you’d taken something that didn’t belong to you. You tried. You really did but trying only made it clearer you weren’t welcome.

The breaking point came in the common room. You’d found out that one of those girls used to date him. You didn’t come at him yelling, you just asked why he hadn’t told you. Why he’d let you sit next to her, smile at her, try so hard to be liked by someone who used to be where you were.

He didn’t even let you finish, called you a hypocrite and said he didn’t owe you explanations when you had Anton on speed dial. Then he walked out. Just like that.

You didn’t chase him. You just stood there in the middle of the lounge, hands trembling.

Maya came to you not even a minute later. She’d been eavesdropping from the hallway. She didn’t say anything at first, just wrapped an arm around you and walked you back to your room.

“I always hated him but you already knew that.” She said the second the door closed.

You slumped onto your desk chair while Maya cracked open a bottle of Tito’s. She was celebrating the end of your situationship, you were grieving. Sort of.

“He sucked but you’re still hot.” She had said plainly, handing you a shot. You drank to that.

Then you kept drinking. The two of you ended up blasting music, dancing around the dorm, mascara smudged and feet bare, shouting lyrics you only half knew. That’s when the knock came.

Anton was the RA on duty that night, he looked tired but concerned, already wincing when he saw the speaker blinking blue. “Girls—”

“We got a noise complaint?” Maya guessed.

Anton nodded. “Two, actually.”

You winced. “Are we in trouble?”

He glanced at the open bottle on your desk and sighed. “Technically? Yes. Realistically? No.”

He didn’t write you up. Just stepped inside, clicked off the speaker and lowered the lights. Then he grabbed two water bottles from under your bed, handed one to Maya and sat with you on the edge of your bed helping you drink while she wandered to the bathroom, mumbling something about needing makeup wipes.

He didn’t ask what happened. Didn’t need to. He already knew. Anton always knew.

He knew that Wonbin never held your hand in public unless people weren’t watching. That he rarely walked you back to your dorm after study sessions. That he “forgot” your birthday until Maya posted a story about it.

He was the one who bought you a cupcake when Wonbin didn’t show up to your dinner plans. The one who printed your essay for you the morning your laptop died because Wonbin hadn’t answered your texts. The one who sat outside your chem lecture for an hour once, just to walk you home after your midterm.

He didn’t like Wonbin. Never had but he never said anything because you kept insisting everything was fine and he didn’t want you to feel like you had to choose so he just stayed quiet.

Anton wrapped you up in your blanket that night and helped you sober up while you ranted about love and timing and how you had “plans that you couldn’t share because the haters would sabotage you.”

You remember him giving you a blank stare before asking if you were seriously quoting Dr. Umar. You’d just shrugged then made him pinky promise. First it was to marry you if you weren’t in a serious relationship by the end of senior year but Maya chimed in from the bathroom and said that was too soon so you adjusted it—thirty. If you were still single by thirty, he had to marry you. You passed out right after.

You blink at the memory laughing softly and a little horrified. “Oh my gosh, I can’t believe I actually said that.”

Anton chuckles, his fingers tightening a bit on your waist. “You were drunk.”

“You should’ve stopped me.”

“I don’t think I could’ve. You were very persuasive” He says grinning. 

You groan. “That’s so embarrassing.”

He tilts his head, thoughtful. “I don’t know. It was kind of sweet.”

You snort. “I was in the trenches.”

“I remember. I wanted to punch that guy sometimes.” He murmurs, voice quieter now. 

You glance up at him, not shocked. “You and Maya.”

“I would’ve done it, y’know,” he says after a beat.

You cock your head still half-smiling. “Punched him?”

Anton shakes his head. “No. Marry you…you know, if we were thirty and single.”

You blink, breath catching in your throat. He says it so easily. Like it’s obvious. Like it’s always been obvious.

Your mouth opens but no sound comes out at first. “You would?”

“Yeah. You’re not exactly hard to imagine a future with.” He says simply, like the thought doesn’t scare him at all.

For a second you don’t know what to say because it’s Anton, your best friend, saying he’d marry you and saying it like it’s nothing, like it’s already written somewhere in the future, just waiting for the two of you to catch up.

You think about waking up to him. About sharing a bathroom and arguing over toothbrush placements. About movie nights in old pajamas, mismatched socks and legs tangled under the blanket. About apartment keys and slow Sunday mornings and his name showing up on every contact form you’ll ever fill out again.

You think about bringing him lunch at work. About him rubbing your back while you fall asleep. About the two of you building a home from scratch, filling it with too many throw pillows and framed polaroids and mugs that don’t match.

You even think—just briefly—about kids.

Maybe a little girl with your smile and his eyes. A boy who makes the same scrunched-up face when he’s concentrating. Anton would be the softest kind of dad, you know it. The kind who learns how to braid hair and shows up to every dance recital or soccer match early just so he can save a front-row seat.

Your chest squeezes at the thought because the idea of forever with him doesn’t feel scary. It doesn’t feel rushed or wrong. It feels…easy and almost right.

Anton shifts slightly, eyes flicking down to meet yours like he feels it too. Like he might say something more but then the lights flicker back on with a quiet buzz. You both freeze then blink dazed like a spell’s been broken.

Anton clears his throat and takes a careful step back. “We should probably lock up.”

You nod quickly. “Y-yeah. Before the storm comes back.”

Neither of you says anything else. Not about the dance. Not about the promise. Not about what might have happened if the lights had stayed off just a minute longer.

July 3rd, 2025

It’s been almost a month since the storm, you and Anton never brought up that night again. You moved on like nothing happened and went right back to being best friends.

The days have since blurred into sun-drenched afternoons and late-night group chats with slushies and sunscreen. Summer is halfway through and you’ve done more than you thought you would.

Harvey’s become one of your favorite people. You’ve spent more time with her than anyone lately, just the two of you doing silly girly things like you’ve known each other forever. You’ve gotten your nails done twice; matching pastel chrome one week then tiny hearts the next.

You’ve had sleepovers where you ate too much candy, tried on outfits for no reason and stayed up until 1 a.m freetyling to old beats Anton had made. You’ve gone on aimless shopping trips, floated in her pool while talking about first crushes and dream jobs and made it a tradition to blast One Direction during every 7-Eleven run.

You’ve spent a lot of time with the guys too. Group hangouts at Sohee’s house are now routine. His basement has become the unofficial meeting spot, snacks everywhere, a projector hooked up for movies, blankets in every corner.

You rotate who gets to pick the movie (Sungchan keeps choosing weird action flicks and Sohee only ever wants to rewatch Rush Hour) and every hangout ends with someone yelling over who ate the last bag of gummies.

One night Sungchan brought over edibles from his college roommate Eunseok. You were hesitant at first but Anton nudged your shoulder and said, “why not” so you gave in. You all ended up sprawled out on the carpet of Sohee’s basement laughing at nothing and everything, whispering nonsense while trying not to wake his family upstairs.

At one point Harvey started crying because the ceiling “felt too big,” and Sungchan offered her a half-eaten Rice Krispie treat like it was a solution. Sohee kept trying to freestyle over the Wii music theme and Anton couldn’t stop giggling every time he looked at you.

You don’t remember falling asleep, just that you woke up with Anton’s hoodie draped over you and a bag of marshmallows stuck to your arm. How they got there, you still have no clue.

You’ve also spent time with Anton. There was a week where he decided completely out of nowhere that he wanted to bleach his hair. You helped, obviously. Sat with him in his bathroom while he panicked over the yellow stage, laughed when the toner stained his ears purple and eventually helped him dye it back to black two weeks later when he said he “missed feeling like himself.”

You went on a picnic too, just the two of you at the park where you used to ride bikes as kids. You brought drinks, a bag of chips and laid out an old blanket while he strummed his guitar. It felt a little like slipping back into a memory. Safe and familiar. Comfortable in a way you didn’t even realize you missed.

You’ve texted with Maya here and there. She’s having the time of her life being back home in Japan, eating well, reconnecting with family and promising to bring back enough souvenirs to redecorate the whole dorm. You miss her but you’re glad she’s having fun. If anyone deserved a break, it’s her.

So far, you’d say this summer’s shaping up to be one for the books like you hoped.

Currently, you and Harvey have just pulled into the staff lot five minutes after your shifts have started, windows down, music still playing from your drive in. She’s wearing her “Snack Shack Queen” visor ironically and sipping from a pink water bottle covered in glittery stickers. You’re both still laughing about something Sungchan texted in the group chat.

Harvey parks her beat-up Corolla with a glitter Hello Kitty air freshener dangling from the mirror next to Anton’s Jeep. He usually drives you both but since you crashed at Harvey’s last night, you figured it made more sense to go together, his shift started before yours anyway.

“Tell Loverboy I say hey,” Harvey says, grabbing her apron from the backseat and shooting you a wink.

“He’s not—” you start but she’s already skipping toward the snack bar, waving over her shoulder.

You shake your head, smiling and sling your tote over your shoulder before heading inside. The country club smells like chlorine, sunscreen and money. You pass the front desk and spot Sohee’s station empty, he called in “sick” this morning, which you’re 99% sure just means he didn’t feel like putting on khakis today.

Out by the pool, Anton’s already leaning against the towel cart, arms crossed, hair still damp and glinting in the sun. His name tag is crooked, sunglasses hooked onto the collar of his navy polo like they live there.

“You’re late, I had to fold, like, four towels without you.”  He calls out but he’s smiling. 

“Tragic,” you deadpan, tossing your bag into the breakroom on the way over. “You want a medal or a hug?”

“A raise, actually.”

You roll your eyes but the corners of your mouth tug upward anyway. He looks good, tanned and relaxed with a confidence he only wears in the summer. You’ve known his face forever but lately it feels like you’re noticing things more than you used to.

The way his shoulders have filled out. The way his hair curls slightly when it’s wet. The way he chews on the edge of his sunglasses when he’s focused. It’s subtle. Barely anything but it’s there. You grab a towel and start folding next to him.

“How’s Sohee?” Anton asks.

“Too sick to answer texts apparently,” you say with a laugh. “But healthy enough to post a gym selfie.”

Anton snorts, shaking his head as he flips a towel. Then after a beat he says, “My dad’s back.”

You glance over, softening. “Yeah?”

He nods once, eyes still on the towel in his hands. “Flew in yesterday. Just for the week.”

You pause. “How do you feel about that?”

He shrugs, like he doesn’t want to think too hard about it. “Happy, I guess. Just wish it was longer.”

There’s more he doesn’t say but you know it’s there. Anton doesn’t talk about his dad much. Not really. You know he wishes he came home more often. That he hates how normal it’s become to miss him.

He clears his throat. “Anyway, my parents invited you over for dinner tonight. You don’t have to come if you’re busy, but my mom thought it’d be nice.”

You smile, folding another towel. “I’d love to. I miss being around her.”

He glances over and the smile he gives you is soft. Grateful. A little relieved. “Cool.”

You finish the last of the towels in silence then the two of you head off to your stations, the sun already climbing higher in the sky.

___

You and Anton clock out right as the sun starts dipping behind the trees, casting everything in a late-summer haze. Your shirt sticks slightly to your back, your name tag is crooked and your tote feels heavier than usual.

Anton unlocks his Jeep with a click and you toss your bag into the back seat before climbing in. The windows are already down helping a bit with the heat. He turns on the car and your phone automatically connects to aux before he can even ask.

You scroll for a bit before settling on a random indie playlist. You’re halfway through the second song when your phone buzzes.

5:47 pm | sungchan 🐸: tell me this isn’t you 😭

The next text is a meme of someone dramatically face-planting into a bed labeled “me after a 5 hour shift of standing still pretending to be helpful” You snort. Another buzz comes in.

5:50 pm | sungchan 🐸: also ur slushie combo is elite don’t let anyone tell you diff brodie 🙏🏻

You giggle, thumbs tapping out a quick reply. Anton glances sideways. “What’s so funny?”

You shake your head. “Sungchan went back to the seven eleven to try my slushie combo you all clowned me for and for the record he thinks it tastes great.”

Anton lets out a short laugh that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “You two text a lot, huh?”

You glance at him. “I mean…yeah, I guess. He’s funny.”

“Hilarious,” Anton mutters as his fingers tighten slightly on the steering wheel. You blink but say nothing, turning back to your phone.

Anton pulls into his driveway a few minutes later and before he’s even out of the car, you spot someone through the window waving a controller in the air.

Anton helps you out of the jeep and unlocks the front door of his home and allows you to walk in first. “About time,” Junyoung calls from the couch, controller in hand. “I’ve been waiting for backup.”

He looks so different it almost knocks you back. He’s taller than Anton now. Freshly sixteen. Still adorable but no braces, no bowl cut just sharp cheekbones, a deeper voice and the same mischievous grin.

“Excuse me,” you say, stepping inside and tossing your bag down. “I’ve been working. What’s your excuse?”

“Don’t need one,” he says simply, then pulls you into a hug that knocks the air out of you. “Also, Anton still sucks. You’re playing next round.”

Anton scoffs. “You got lucky once.”

You throw yourself onto the couch beside Junyoung grabbing a spare controller with a grin. “Please. You’ve always sucked at gaming.”

“Facts. You remember that one time he rage quit because you beat him three rounds in a row?” Junyoung says smirking as he unpauses the game.

Anton groans behind you. “That was like eight years ago.”

“It’s okay, Ton. Losing builds character.” You say sweetly, nudging Junyoung with your shoulder.

He’s about to retaliate, probably with a pillow to your face when the soft sound of footsteps interrupts. Anton’s mom appears from around the corner, wiping her hands on a dish towel.

“There she is,” she beams, already pulling you into a warm hug. “I’ve missed you, sweetheart.”

You hug her back tightly. “I’ve missed you too.”

She pulls back just enough to cup your face in both hands. “It’s been too long.”

“I know! I’m sorry for not coming by sooner. Summer’s been more packed than I expected.” You say bashfully.

She waves off your apology with a soft cluck of her tongue. “As long as you come by again before the summer ends, you’re forgiven.”

“Of course! There’s no way I’m leaving without seeing you again.” You say.

That earns you a delighted cheek pinch and a mock stern, “Good. Now, are you hungry?”

“Always.”

“Perfect. I made all your favorites.”

You stare at her shocked. “Wait, seriously?”

She smiles. “You think I don’t remember?”

Your heart swells. “Can I help with anything?”

She waves you off. “No need. I’m sure Junyoung is dying to have you all to himself.”

Junyoung shrugs with a lopsided grin. “She gets me.”

Anton’s dad steps in next, he offers you a hug too, less animated but just as sincere.

“Hi, Welcome home.” You say, suddenly shy.

“It’s good to see you.” He says

You nod, a little overwhelmed. “It’s really good to see you too.”

He pulls back, studying your face for a moment like he’s trying to memorize it. “You’ve grown up well.”

You duck your head, smiling. “Thanks.”

“I’m glad you’re still around, means a lot to me. To all of us.”

You blink a few times, heart tugging at the edges. “Me too.”

He gives your arm a squeeze before turning toward the kitchen to join his wife.

You plop back down beside Junyoung, resuming your spot with the controller and clear your throat. “Okay. Let’s see if you’re actually good or just all talk.”

“Bet,” Junyoung says.

Anton disappears up the stairs to change and you don’t think twice about it at least not until he comes back down a few minutes later with an extra hoodie draped over his arm. Without saying anything, he tosses it into your lap.

You look up at him. “What’s this for?”

He shrugs like it’s obvious. “The AC’s blasting,” he says casually. “You always get cold.”

You blink a few times then smile. “Right.”

You tug it on without thinking. It’s soft and smells faintly like his laundry detergent, the sleeves are a little too long and the collar is stretched, proof it’s been worn a lot.

Your chest tightens in a way that’s becoming more frequent around him. It’s nothing. Just a hoodie you try to remind yourself but it still makes your chest go a little funny.

Maybe it’s because he just knows. He doesn’t ask, he just knows. Little stuff you don’t even realize you’ve said out loud like how you always run cold or that you sleep better with background noise or that you hate when your food touches on the plate even if you pretend it doesn’t matter.

“Thanks,” you murmur.

“Anytime.” He says as he shrugs like it’s nothing.

You settle deeper into the couch, tugging the sleeves over your hands and letting the warmth wrap around you. Anton turns his attention to the screen, where Junyoung is still mid-game yelling something about lag and you pulling him down.

You glance over at Anton once more and wonder when this started feeling different. When something so small, so simple began to mean so much.

Soon, Anton’s mom calls everyone to dinner and Junyoung is the first to jump up, already bragging about how he carried the team.

You and Anton follow behind and the smell hits you instantly. His mom has always been an incredible cook and the dining table proves it. Bowls of banchan, platters of rice, soy-glazed chicken, kimchi pancakes still steaming. Your mouth waters just looking at it.

Anton’s dad pours sparkling water into your glass before settling across from you and his mom gestures for you to sit wherever you’d like. You slide into the seat beside Anton without thinking.

“So,” his mom says brightly, already passing you the rice spoon, “how’s school?”

You sigh and give a small laugh. “It’s…fine. I’m ready to be done.” Everyone laughs at that. Even Anton lets out a knowing groan.

“Any plans for after graduation?” his dad asks.

You shrug. “Thinking of taking a gap year. Traveling a little before applying to grad school.”

“Ooh, I love that,” his mom says, eyes lighting up. “Where to?”

You rattle off a few places; Shanghai, maybe Spain, somewhere in West Africa if you can swing it. His dad nods. “Do you know what your concentration will be?”

“Not yet,” you admit. “Lately I’ve been leaning toward cancer research but it’s still a little fuzzy.” Anton hums beside you, like he’s storing the answer somewhere.

Then with barely a beat his mom tilts her head. “And what about dating? Anyone special?”

You choke on your water a little, coughing into your sleeve. Anton groans immediately. “Mom,” he says, dragging the word out like a sigh.

“What? I’m just asking. You’re gorgeous and smart. Don’t tell me no one’s caught your eye.” She says smiling innocently.

You laugh awkwardly but politely. “No, there’s no one right now. I haven’t really thought about it much lately.”

“Mmm, what about Sungchan?” She says then smiles again.

That makes you pause. “Wait—how do you know Sungchan?”

“I saw the photo strips,” she says with a little twinkle in her eye.

Oh. Right.

You’d completely forgotten about those. A few weeks ago all five of you had gone to Boston on a whim. No plans, just the weekend off and nowhere to be. You’d convinced everyone it would be fun. Harvey wanted to thrift, Sungchan wanted an excuse to wear his bucket hat, Sohee said he knew a good boba spot and Anton didn’t even need convincing.

You took the train into the city and spent the morning biking around the reflecting pool weaving past couples on picnic blankets and kids chasing each other through fountains. The five of you looked ridiculous riding in a single file line, Anton almost crashed into a tree trying to get a video of Harvey singing One Direction off-key.

You drifted in and out of thrift stores, tried on sunglasses you didn’t plan to buy and dragged the boys into little boutiques on Newbury with Harvey. Sungchan found a pink faux fur jacket and wore it for twenty minutes before the shop owner asked if you were planning on purchasing anything.

You ended your trip at a hole-in-the-wall record store where there was a photobooth hidden away inside. You took one group strip first, crammed shoulder to shoulder props half-falling off, the flash going off before you were ready.

You remember Sungchan's arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer at the last second. In one of the shots, you and Anton are smiling at each other and the rest of the frame is a blur of laughter and too many hands trying to hold up signs that said things like “hot stuff” and “assalicious.”

After that you and Anton took one together just the two of you. You don’t remember much about what you were doing (laughing probably) but you remember the feeling.

The warmth of him beside you in that cramped booth. The way he nudged the silly heart glasses higher on your head. You’d meant to keep the strips in your tote, maybe stick them on your mirror when you got home but now that his mom mentioned it…you must’ve left them in his car.

You clear your throat. “He’s nice,” you say carefully. “Funny. Cute, I guess. I don’t know if he’s interested though.”

She nods in understanding and asks Anton about the Country Club. You’re not shocked at how easily she jumps from questioning you about your love life to a casual conversation with her son about work.

No, what surprises you and catches you a little off guard though is that your heart doesn’t jump. It doesn’t flutter. Doesn’t twist or do any of the things it’s supposed to do when someone mentions a boy who might like you and that’s strange, isn’t it?

If you’re being honest, Sungchan was a highlight that day. He made you laugh so hard your stomach hurt when he tried to mimic a Boston accent and failed miserably. He offered to carry your tote bag without asking.

At one point, he walked beside you while you searched for somewhere to grab dessert and gently guided you away from an oncoming cyclist by your waist. It was the kind of casual touch that should’ve made your stomach flip but it didn’t. It was sweet. He’s sweet but that’s not what your brain lingers on.

You think about Anton standing at the boba shop counter, ordering and paying for your drink without needing to ask. You were all sitting along the curb outside, legs stretched out taking some polaroids. He didn’t even look at you when he slid the drink into your hand, just nudged your arm and said, “stay hydrated.”

You think about the matcha cream puff you couldn’t finish and how he took the last bite like it was nothing then wiped a bit of powdered sugar from your cheek. No one saw but it stuck with you.