Miiso

❛ 𝓝𝐎𝐓𝐄. ❜ first hyeon fic kinda nervy 😵‍💫 ⠀·⠀ not TOO much of a crackfic, but yk i always sprinkle sum of that anyway 😁 ENJOYYY <3

❛ 𝓦𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒+𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒. ❜ swearing a lil ⠀·⠀ bombing ppl mentioned (as a joke 😭😭 pls) ⠀·⠀ niki (enha) mentioned once ⠀·⠀ ft. yn’s friend group = maki (&team), iroha (illit), chiquita (bm), louis (lngshot) ⠀·⠀ texts from iroha pov somewhere in the middle (u can figure it out from convo and context, my smart cookies 🤓)

❛ 𝓢𝐂. ❜ 21.

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꩜｡ PERM TL. @jjuhyeons @miisoluvsdeer @myen2rude @its-vante @angelyseo @sailuvsu @sevvycoer @chbq2 @miseulsoup @bananabread785 @sstrawbxrry @pbananalover @griinspire @lcvehyeon @stxrrymarsz @ilovegojosatoru13 @lunaryoongie @aphantassia @teacuplps @marsgirltyshi @qngelical @thesvxntyb @mxddi3-the-mnm-lover @nic-andhisfics @yatta-exe @sw4gprinc3ss @casszzzii @mareliio @whitefang1919 @hollyoongs @haezki @enhaha94 @lurvno @mercilessasylumoracle @mershyjershy @eunjjx @one-chance-pls @r0ckst4rjk

꩜｡ SERIES TL. @chocom0ka @tbhkwarrior @spininmytornado @yoiyoiyoii @velosiq

(comment to be added)

Ahn Keonho—top swimmer in the school, or a prodigy as people liked to call him. Everyone knew him. The guy who walked into class after second lecture trailing the scent of chlorine behind him. The guy who slept through half the day because training exhausted him. The guy who was almost always beside you.

 But to you, he was just Keonho. The same dude you’d known your entire life because your parents were best friends. And somehow, by law, that meant you and Keonho had to become best friends too. Which you did.

Time passes quickly. Somehow, throughout your entire school life, you and Keonho always ended up in the same class. Now it’s your third year of high school, and you’ve known him longer than you’ve not known him. At this point, you can’t even remember a version of your life where he didn’t exist. Keonho has been swimming for as long as you’ve known him. But now, for the first time, it actually matters. Nationals, scouts, his future—everything suddenly feels bigger this year. He’s been training like crazy. 

And you’ve been right there beside him through all of it.

“Yn?…Yn? Hello?” Moka’s hand waves in front of your face, closer this time—annoyingly persistent.

You blink, snapping back. “Huh?—yeah, yeah, I’m listening. What?”

Moka didn’t answer immediately. She just looked at you—slow, assessing, from head to toe. “You didn’t sleep again, did you?”

You groaned, dropping your head into your hands. “There’s too much work, I can’t just not stay up, Moka.”

“Mm.” She hummed, unconvinced. Then, tilting her head slightly—“Or… you were busy overthinking what to pack your best friend for lunch?”

You didn’t look up. “I told you to stop calling him that.”

“So what’d you make him?” she pressed anyway, leaning in.

“…Just fries.”

“Just fries,” she repeated, like she didn’t believe you for a second.

Then, quieter—right next to your ear— “Aw. Was his wifey too tired to do more?”

You rolled your eyes, elbowing her lightly. “Shut up.”

But you didn’t deny it. And that was enough. You were used to it by now. Sometimes it came from your own friends. Sometimes from Keonho’s. And more often than not—from Seonghyeon. He and Keonho had always been close. The kind of close that didn’t need explaining. And wherever Seonghyeon was, Martin and Juhoon weren’t far behind—even after graduating.

They still showed up like they belonged here—usually around the after hours when athletes stayed back to practice. They always cheered Keonho on and the teachers never stopped them, there was something endearing about their bond. Somehow, along the way, they’d even dragged James into their orbit. The math teacher’s son. He dropped by every now and then, filling in as a substitute when his mother couldn’t make it.

It felt like you and Keonho were always being watched. Like there was no space that was just yours. You’re in class? Well, great. You’ve got Minju, Yunah and then Moka who sits beside you—which, honestly, no complaints. You love them. But right in front of you—Keonho and Seonghyeon. Always. And if you’re at his practice, cheering him on? You’re not the only one. Seonghyeon’s there, obviously. Martin and Juhoon too, whenever they drop by. Even James, leaning against the railings like he’s got nowhere else to be. Moka, right next to you, way too amused by all of it. It’s never just you and him, never that simple. 

You and Keonho are only ever alone when it’s planned. When he’s at your place. Or when you’re at his. Sometimes it just… happens. Like when one of you ends up home alone for the night, and the other shows up without really asking. No one questions it anymore.

At your house, it’s quiet, too quiet, sometimes. You sit on the floor of your room, backs against your bed, laptops open—supposedly studying. Keonho reads things out loud under his breath, half-focused, half-distracted. You don’t really talk much, you don’t need to. Every now and then, he nudges your foot with his. Just to check you’re still there.

At his place, it’s different. His room is colder, neater and heavily decorated with multiple medals.  You usually end up on his bed while he sits at his desk, towel slung around his shoulders, hair still damp from practice.

“Don’t fall asleep,” he says without turning around.

You hum, already halfway there. Five minutes later, he glances back—and you’ve passed out, cuddled up in his sheets. He sighs, soft, almost amused. Pulls the blanket over you anyway.

Sometimes, you stay over, not often but just when it makes sense. When one of you doesn’t want to be alone. You end up lying side by side, staring at the ceiling, talking about nothing…or everything. It’s easy, with him it’s always been easy.

But if you had to pick—your favorite version of Keonho isn’t any of that. It’s him in the water.

Keonho, as a person, is… quiet, a little shy. Kind in a way that doesn’t look performative. Playful, sometimes—when he forgets himself. Witty, in small, unexpected ways. He fits into spaces easily without realising it. He’s like a shot of espresso, he energizes every room he walks into without really realising it. And by the time he's gone? The feeling still stays. He leaves that kind of impression. 

But in the water? He’s different, like completely different. There’s nothing hesitant about him there. No second-guessing. No pauses. Every movement is sharp with certainty and control. Like he knows exactly where he’s supposed to be. Like the water is the only place he doesn’t have to think.

And you think—maybe that’s why you like watching him so much. Because that version of him is just so…so new, so unfamiliar to you. But at the same time, you know him.

The bell rings, sharp enough to cut through your thoughts. A few people groan, chairs scrape, and chatter gets louder now. The next teacher will come to you. You sit up a little straighter, blinking the image of him in the water out of your head.

The door slides open. You don’t look up immediately, you don’t really have to. There’s that faint scent of chlorine slipping into the room before he does. Keonho walks in, hair still damp, uniform slightly off like he threw it on in a hurry. His tie’s loose, sleeves uneven, a few droplets still clinging to the ends of his hair. He pauses just inside the room for a second, scanning—then his eyes land on you.

Of course they do. He walks over like it’s automatic, like there was never another option. The chair beside you scrapes softly as he pulls it out and drops into it with a low exhale, he leans back for a second, then folds his arms on the desk and drops his head onto them.

“Morning,” he mutters, voice rough.

You glance at him properly now. Up close, it’s worse—the damp hair, the faint flush on his skin, the way he looks like he hasn’t had a second to breathe since practice ended. “You look like shit,” you say.

He lets out a small huff, almost a laugh. “Feel like it.”

There’s a pause. Not awkward. Just… familiar. Then his gaze flicks to your bag, still open. You notice it the same second he does. You hesitate—just for a moment. Then you reach in. “…Here,” you mumble, sliding the container toward him without looking straight at him.

He looks at it, then at you, a little confused. “What’s this?”

“Just take it.”

He opens it. Fries. Still warm. Something in his expression softens—just a little, easy to miss if you weren’t looking for it.

“You made this?” he asks.

“It’s literally fries, Keonho.”

“Yeah, but still.”

You don’t answer that. He takes one, eats it without thinking, like he’s actually starving. Which—he probably is. You watch him for half a second too long. Then look away. “Did you even eat?” you ask, grabbing a pen to write something in your notebook—anything to seem distracted.

He shakes his head slightly, already reaching for another. “Didn’t have time.”

Of course he didn’t. You press your lips together, leaning back in your seat like it doesn’t bother you. It does, a lot more than it should. “Eat properly,” you mutter. He glances at you again, something unreadable flickering across his face. “Okay sergeant,” he says. Then, his attention completely shifts to the fries. 

The teacher walks in a few minutes later. Math. At nine in the morning. The lecture goes exactly how you’d expect—numbers filling the board, monotone explanations, half the class barely conscious. You try to keep up, you really do. But beside you, Keonho doesn’t even try. Athlete privilege. His head’s already down, arms folded under it, breathing slow and even like he’s been waiting for this all day. You press your lips together, scribbling something—anything—into your notebook, wishing, for the first time, that Moka hadn’t moved ahead to sit with Seonghyeon.

At least she would’ve pretended to understand this. Somewhere in the middle of it, you feel it. A stare. You turn slightly, of course—Keonho. He’s not fully asleep anymore—just watching you, eyes half-lidded, lazy.

“…What?” you whisper, a small snicker slipping out.

“It’s not comfortable,” he murmurs, voice low, still rough with sleep.

You glance at him. “What do you want me to do about that?”

A pause.

“Give me your jacket… please?”

You stare at him for a second. “…Are you serious?”

He doesn’t answer, just looks up at you. Waiting.

You sigh quietly, already slipping your jacket off. “Unbelievable.”

You pass it over without looking at him properly. He takes it without a word, bunches it slightly under his head, adjusting it. “…Thanks,” he mumbles, eyes already closing again. 

For a second, it’s quiet again. Just the scratch of pens, the teacher talking and the low hum of the class. Then, barely above a whisper—“…Smells like you.”

You freeze, your pen pauses mid-word. “…What?” you ask, a little too quickly, not looking up.

He shifts slightly, voice still thick with sleep. “The jacket,” he murmurs. “It smells like you.”

You stare at your notebook, suddenly very focused on absolutely nothing, heat creeps up your neck. “…Okay?” you manage.

Then, softer—“…It’s nice…comforting kinda”

That does it, your grip tightens around your pen, words on the page blurring slightly. You don’t look at him. You cannot look at him. “…Go to sleep, Keonho,” you mutter. But your voice comes out quieter than you meant it to.

As the lecture dragged on, Keonho shifted closer little by little. Not intentionally—at least, you didn’t think so. Just small movements. His chair nudging nearer. His shoulder brushing yours for a second longer each time he moved. Until eventually—he was close enough to feel the warmth of your arm beside him.

And then, suddenly, his hand wraps loosely around your forearm. Like instinct more than anything else. It was gentle, intentional.  Before you can even process it, he shifts again, resting his head against your arm with a quiet exhale.

Your entire body went still. You should’ve moved his head, should’ve told him to move away. But, you didn't. Maybe it was because you’d known him forever. Maybe it was because this wasn’t exactly unusual for the two of you. Or maybe—maybe you just liked having him close.

More than you should.

The rest of the lecture passes in a blur after that. You don’t hear half of what the teacher says. Every time Keonho shifts slightly against your arm, your thoughts short-circuit all over again. By the time the final bell rings, the sun is shining brightly outside the classroom windows, painting everything in a bright gold.

Keonho stretches beside you with a quiet groan, rubbing at his eyes. “You coming?” he asks automatically, already packing his things.

You nod before even thinking about it. “Yeah.”

Practice starts an hour later, you could’ve gone home. Probably should’ve. You had assignments piling up, sleep to catch up on, literally anything more productive to do. But instead—you’re here. Sitting in the bleachers with Moka beside you, legs tucked underneath you as the sharp scent of chlorine settles into the air.

The pool is loud today. Loads of whistles, accompanied with the sounds of water crashing and teammates cheering for each other. In the middle of all of it—Keonho.

You spot him immediately, you always do. He stands near the edge of the pool, swim cap hanging loosely from one hand while Seonghyeon says something beside him. Whatever it is earns a small laugh from Keonho—brief, sleepy, gone almost instantly.

Then his eyes flick up, straight to you. Your breath hitches so stupidly fast it almost annoys you. He lifts a hand slightly. Not a full wave— something closer to a “Earth to Yn” kind of motion. “God,” Moka mutters beside you. “You two are actually sickening.”

You elbow her without looking away from him. “Shut up.”

But your lips twitch anyway. The coach blows the whistle and immediately, everyone dives in. Keonho dives in too and suddenly he’s not the same person who fell asleep on your arm an hour ago. The tenderness disappears. Every motion of his cuts clean through the water, fast and precise, like his body already knows what to do before he even thinks about it.

And around you, people notice too, of course they do. You hear his name constantly at these practices. Mainly cheers from his coach, other students, his friends, and Louis. Especially Louis. He’s always the loudest for some reason. Louis leans against the far railing somewhere on top, arms crossed tightly over his chest while Keonho finishes another lap ahead of everyone else.

You don’t miss the way his jaw clenches. Or the way Woojin mutters something beside him that makes them both look toward Keonho again.

Moka notices too. “…They’re staring again,” she murmurs quietly.

You look away from the pool for the first time. And, when Keonho wins? Louis looks irritated and Woojin looks worse.

But Keonho either doesn’t notice—or pretends not to. He just pulls himself out of the water, pushing wet hair back from his forehead as Coach calls out times.

First again. Of course.

The cheers around the pool blur together after that. Because all you can really focus on—is the way Keonho looks exhausted. Even while smiling. He walks over to you, Moka and Seonghyeon. Dropping down onto the bleachers as he soaks everything around him. He turns to look at you. He notices the way your eyes linger on Louis. “What’s so interesting about him?” You don't respond. A hand swipes in front of your face suddenly—”Hello? Earth to Yn?” 

“Huh–yes. Earth to me” You say, your tone airy. 

He grabbed his water bottle, “I asked, what's so interesting about him?” He muttered, not looking at you—but at Louis instead. 

“What? Nothing interesting about him.” 

His gaze finally landed on you, “You’re staring at him, got a crush?” 

You looked at his face for a second, then scoffed. “Me? And him? Seriously?” He puts both his arms up in a surrender position, "I'm just saying like, you were very much zoned out looking at him—or, admiring him maybe?” That earns him an elbow straight to the stomach, “Shut up Keonho.” 

Beside you, Seonghyeon and Moka exchange looks—can they be any stupider?

After school and after Keonho’s swim practice, you find yourself sprawled out on his bedroom floor, arms stretched above your head as you breathe heavily.  “Keonho turn the AC on, fuck, it’s so hot nowadays.” Keonho simply grabs the remote and hands it over to you, his arm hovering just above your head as he waits for you to take it. But, you don't grab it—instead you tug on his sleeve, signaling him to lay down beside you. 

Keonho’s gaze lingers on you for a second before he lowers himself beside you. “What’s wrong?” He says, quietly bringing his head closer to yours as the two of you stare up at the ceiling. 

You hesitate for a moment but speak anyway “Don’t you ever think that Louis—” you say, turning your head to face him mid-sentence. Bad idea, he’s already looking at you. He’s close. So close that you can see the faint rosiness on his cheeks from walking home in the humidity and the thin layer of sweat lingering on his forehead. You pause, “Never—nevermind.”

He slides closer to you, “What’s wrong?” His eyebrows furrow, “You can tell me anything, right?” He rolls onto his side, head resting against his palm now, his attention fully on you.

“It’s just that–” you were interrupted by the sudden touch of his cold fingers grazing your cheek—he tucks the loose strands of hair behind your ear, “Just what?” But, you couldn't speak. The words jammed up in your throat. His touch was soft, almost comforting. His touch was brief, but it drove you insane. 

“I think he looks at you weird.” You blurt out finally. 

Keonho glances at you, one eyebrow raised up “You think he’s into me or something?” 

That earns him another elbow to the stomach, “Dude, I'm serious. He looks at you really weird.”

He gets up completely, “Well, I don’t care.” Now settling down on the bed as you follow right behind him. You sit beside him, legs swinging. “No, it’s just…something about his stare is so weird. I mean he’s always had a thing for you—not in a romantic way….but, more in a ‘I hate you’ kind of way.”

“You’re paranoid.” Keonho laughs. “If he hated me that much, he would have done something already.”

“Don’t say stuff like that, you know he’s basically an opp.” His gaze lingers on you before he mutters, “Can’t be that deep, Yn.” 

“Don’t come to me crying when he pulls some bullshit.” You say, absentmindedly playing with your bracelets.

Keonho lets out a big sigh, leaning back to lie down “I’m too tired to care Yn,” “Can I ask you something Keon?” You murmur, looking down at the floor.

“What’s up?”

“Do you ever wish you could stop swimming?” Your voice drops lower. “Do I wish I could stop swimming? The sport I’ve been doing since I was a kid?” He scoffs, “Come on, and I thought my best friend would know me better.” he says dramatically, raising a hand to his chest. The dramatic grin on his face falters, “Sometimes I think I’m just good at swimming.” A pause, “I like competing. I like the feeling of water just wrapping around me—it covers me head to toe when I dive in…I like that.”

You lie down beside him. Heads close, arms touching. You don’t respond—you don't feel the need to. And somehow, your silence was enough of a response. Keonho speaks up, “Can we go to that canal again?” 

And that is how you both ended up leaning against the railings of a bridge, looking down at waters that glimmer under the moonlight. That's the problem with canals—they look almost harmless from up here, like taking a dip wouldn't necessarily cause much harm. That’s the deception. Every few seconds, the current crashes violently against the concrete walls beneath it. You look at the waters, and then at Keonho. Then back down. 

“What’s on your mind Keon?” 

He lets out a heavy sigh. “Nothing really,” 

You let out a little laugh as you turn your back to the railing, now leaning your head back, “I’ve known you for 16 years, I'm not dumb. What’s on your mind?”

Beside you, Keonho shifts slightly, sneaking a look at you—“Nationals and stuff. And, now that you mention it…Louis and Woojin are both tough competition.” 

“You don't need to worry about Woojin, Louis, well…understandable”

He snickers, “You think he’s better huh?” 

You let out a giggle, “Better than you? What if I do?” “You think he’s better than me?” He shoots back, now turning his back to the railing too.

“No. He’s not.”

He turns his head, glancing at you from the side. “Promise?” “Promise.” 

You and Keonho were, for one. Very fucking close. And for two—everyone thought you guys were dating. It was a normal thing. People said it every other day and you never felt otherwise about it. Why should you? The problem now is that telling people—“Oh no, we’re not dating.” makes your chest tighten.

“Earth to Yn? Why do you zone out so much?” Keonho asks, settling down beside you. 

“Sorry, morning math lectures just aren't for me.” He lets out a little laugh, “Yeah, can tell.” Seonghyeon joined in the conversation, wrapping an arm around Keonho’s shoulder, “How’s prep for nationals going dude?”

“You look drained” Moka joins in, sipping her apple juice. “I kind of am, it doesn't matter anyway. I work with the water.” He pauses for a second before taking a deep breath in, resting his head against the desk, “Can’t sleep in the water now, can I?”

“Is this about Louis?” James chimes in. “Oh, I always had a bad feeling about the guy,” Martin joins in with a scoff. “Why does someone from another school keep showing up to our practices anyway? Don’t they have their own pool?” Juhoon nods in agreement.

You look around the room while adjusting your chair to face everyone, “I saw him quite literally shooting daggers from his eyes watching Keon swim yesterday.” “I told you I wasn't imagining things” Martin mutters, whining. “I never said you were.” Juhoon replied. 

“Guys, he’s from another school. Obviously he won’t look at me right,” He gets up, leaning back on his chair. “We’re competing for a spot in the nationals, of course he doesn’t like me.” “When are the selections for nationals anyway?” Seonghyeon adds, finally moving his arm away from Keonho

“Uh, in two weeks? We have the swim meet today and sometime next week, I don’t know”

Keonho knows exactly down to the minute when he has to dive in. He just doesn’t want to think about it. Not the pressure, not the scouts watching from the sidelines, and definitely not Louis. But now, standing on the starting block with nothing except the sound of water echoing around him, avoiding it is no longer an option. His arms shake slightly as he adjusts his goggles, the chlorine stinging the back of his throat with every breath he takes. ‘Can’t sleep in the water’ he had joked earlier.

Funny. Because lately, swimming is the only thing keeping him awake. Go to school. Go to practice. Come home exhausted. Stretch until his muscles stop aching long enough to sleep. Then wake up and do it all over again. Somewhere along the way, swimming stopped feeling light of sorts. Sometimes, usually late at night when his body hurts too much to move, Keonho thinks about what would happen if swimming suddenly disappeared from his life. He barely studies anymore. Everything he is, everything people know him for, begins and ends with the pool.

It terrifies him more than he wants to admit. Because he does love swimming. He loves the competition. Loves the feeling of diving in and letting the water wrap around him completely, quieting everything else for just a moment.

But as he dives into the pool, deeper and deeper, all he sees is blue. He’s chasing a dream even though he's tired. He reaches the end of the pool only to turn around and do it all over again. Keonho’s zoned out, surrounded by his own thoughts. The sharp sound of the starter pistol echoes in the room. Keonho doesn't dive in and by the time he realizes it, the others are already in the water. His coach comes up from behind him, “Ahn Keonho what’s wrong with you? Why didn't you dive in?” The coach's voice rings in his ears, “I-I was zoned out, sorry.” His coach starts rambling, voice loud “Keonho, nationals are coming up, you–” He’s interrupted by Keonho walking away. “Hey–” He walks behind Keonho, “You—You come back here now.” “I said I'm sorry,” His voice was laced with annoyance. Seeing Keonho's dazed state, the coach walked away. He settles down on the bleachers, his goggles thrown onto the floor as he runs his fingers through his hair. Someone drops beside him—legs stretched out, wet hair covering his forehead, a towel hanging loosely around his neck. He scoffs, “tough luck huh?”

Keonho turns his head to the familiar figure—It’s Louis. Of course he’s here to torment him. He furrows his eyebrows, tilting his head slightly. “I’m sorry, do I know you?”

Louis erupts in sarcastic laughter, “Do you know me? You’re gonna know me very well once I take your spot at the nationals.” He pauses, now leaning closer to Keonho. “Funny how the prodigy can’t even hear the starter pistol anymore. They don't tolerate mistakes there Keonho. You won’t get treated like someone special there.”

Keonho gets up, “I don't even know you man.”  He walks away before Louis can say anything else. His team is already gathered around the coach for some stupid pep talk before dismissal.  He checks his phone—6:20 p.m. “She’ll be here soon,” he whispers to himself. 

“Ahn Keonho, speed up! We don't have all day.” The coach yells.  As Keonho reaches the circle of swimmers, one of his friends wraps his soaking arm around Keonho, “Our prodigy’s ears have gone numb in love, when’s Yn coming to get you huh?” The team immediately starts teasing him. Keonho responds, unamused, “In 5 minutes actually.” 

A few minutes later, the team finally gets dismissed.

The humid air clings to Keonho even after he steps outside. Cool evening air brushes against his skin as he adjusts the strap of his bag, scanning the nearly empty parking lot. Then he spots you. He barely makes it a few steps before Louis stops him in his tracks. “Ahn Keonho, I wasn't done talking.” He looks at him with his eyes narrowed. “But I was.” Louis grips Keonho’s wrist. “Who said you get to walk away that fast?” “I did.” “You’re quite egotistical for someone who can’t hear a starter pistol.” Keonho tries not to snap. He harshly shakes Louis’ hand from his wrist, “Bye.” Keonho starts walking away. Louis grips the back of his bag, making him stumble backwards before finding his balance, “I’m not done talking to you.” Keonho grabs Louis’ collar, wrinkling the fabric “Dude, what is it with you? I’m not in the mood to deal with some random dude.”

Louis grabs Keonho’s collar right back, yanking him closer until there’s barely any space left between them. “Someone random?” He lets out a sharp laugh. “I won’t be some random guy once I take your spot at nationals.” 

Keonho snaps back. “What is it with you?” Louis raises his fist, his knuckles going white. As he’s about to swing a blow on Keonho,  a cold and fizzy liquid is poured all over him. “Dude, what the fuck?” Both guys finally let each other go. Louis bends his head down, the sticky liquid dripping down from his hair. When he finally looks up, he throws you a glare. You wheeze, grabbing Keonho’s wrist, pulling him closer to you “Dude, why are you making faces at me? Gosh you look stupid.”  

A towel is thrown on Louis’ head by his friend Woojin. He scoffs at Keonho. “You need your girlfriend to fight your battles?” You don’t give Keonho the opportunity to respond, “You salty you don't have one?” You scoff, dragging Keonho away from the scene. Louis watches both of you walk away. His voice rings out behind you—”You’re going to regret this.” His words linger behind you. You don’t even realize it at first, but your hand slides down from his wrist until your fingers interlock with his

Once you both are far away from the school, you finally stop walking. Your hands still interlinked with his. Keonho hasn’t looked at you the entire time, nor has he said a word. His gaze lingers on his shoes—he’s avoiding your eyes. You look up at him confused, lowering your head trying to meet his gaze. He still avoids you. “Keon, what's wrong?” He says nothing. “If you don’t want to talk…that's alright I guess.” You continue walking. Keonho takes a few steps ahead with you before stopping. “Yn.” You look back, “Yeah?” “Thanks.” He murmurs. You give him a warm smile, pulling him closer so that he can match your steps. “You know I got you.” You both walk with no destination in mind, but somehow end up back at the bridge. The sun has set completely, the moonlight glimmering on the water yet again. Keonho clears his throat, finally pulling his hand away. “It’s crazy how this area hasn’t changed at all. I mean we used to come here as like five year olds.” You let out a little giggle, “Still looks pretty even after all these years.” “Remember how you almost fell into the canal by trying to sit on the railing once?” You nudge his elbow, “Thought we promised to forget that? I was 8 years old.” He exhales loudly, “Still funny.” He pauses, “Even if you fell, I would've saved you.” He turns to look at you, “Only because the current wasn’t as harsh that day.” You take a small step closer to him, tilting your head up at him. “Are you sure it’s not because you love me?” Keonho freezes, heat crawling up his neck. His ears, now a visible shade of crimson. “W-What?” “Why are you stuttering?” He clears his throat, “What? Uh–no reason.” 

You tilt your head, trying to catch his gaze again. Which he immediately avoids. “Why are you so stunned?” You get on your tippy toes, now leaning even closer. Your cold fingers lightly brush against his warm ears. “Why are your ears so red?” 

Keonho takes a deep breath before grabbing your wrist and moving it away from his ear. “It’s hot over here.” You tilt your head at him again—a sign you know something's up. Just bodily cues which Keonho has picked up over the years. “Your hands are cold.” Keonho huffs out a laugh, “I completely forgot about our physi—” You interrupt him, “Keonho, your hands are cold. You're lying. It’s not warm here.” 

His gaze settles on your face for a second too long. Your lips—plump and glossy, probably glazed with your favourite lip oil. Your hair neatly tucked behind your ear, and your eyes. Your eyes…they’re shining. At least that's how Keonho sees them. To him—your eyes glimmer more than the water beneath the bridge ever could. And the way you look at him—like he’s the only thing worth looking at? Fuck, it’s so hard to stay focused.

“Earth to Keon?” You wave your hand in front of his face, breaking him out of his trance. “Y-Yeah, I heard you…Uh…so, what were you saying?” He leans against the railing. “You’ve got to be kidding me. I just asked you why you’re lying to me.” Right, you wouldn't let that go. “I don't know, my ears are just naturally flushed or something.” “Flushed huh?” You say innocently. “Aw, do I make you blush?”

Keonho goes visibly red, biting back a smile. He's a tomato at this point. “What’s…what’s wrong with you?” He starts walking away.

You provoke him further, “Aw, are you shy?” You walk behind him as he speeds up. “Hey!” He starts running. “Hey! Stop running!” You yell, chasing him all the way down the bridge.

He drops you home as always. Before you walk to your door, you tug on his shirt, gaining his attention. “Yeah?” You glance at him for a second. “I hope I didn't make you uncomfortable or anything when I didn’t deny me being your girlfriend...” Keonho looks at you, a big smile spreading across his face as he lets out a laugh. “Oh God, you’re worried about that?” He laughs a little louder now, “You’re not worried about how I could’ve gotten punched?”

You finally look up at him. “No, i’m sure you could fight back, it’s just–nevermind. I’ll go inside now. Goodnight Keonho.” You blabber out, turning away.

Keonho clutches your wrist, bending down bringing his face closer to yours. The distance between your faces is minimal. “You’re worried you made me uncomfortable?”

You nod shyly.

“Don’t worry, if it’s you…I don’t mind.” He says with that boyish smile of his. He lets go of your wrist. Now, grabbing your shoulders as he slightly pushes you ahead. “Goodnight, Ynie”

By the time you reach your room, your face still feels unbearably warm. And somehow, every thought in your head leads back to Keonho. Your phone buzzes in your hands.

The next day, you don't wake up to your moms usual shouts. You wake up to Keonho’s voice. “It must be a dream,” you think to yourself before pulling the covers over your head. But to your surprise, this dream feels…real? Why is Keonho in front of you? “Good morning, sleepy” He says sweetly, pulling the covers off of your head. Nope. Nope. Not a dream—he’s right there. You get up abruptly, dazed and groggy. “What are you doing here? Where’s my mom?” “My mom’s downstairs with her, nothing I can do there, so I thought I’d wake you up.” He murmurs, looking around your room. You groan, “What’s the time?” “Uh, 7:30.” “Keonho.” You stare at him blankly. “Yes…?” he says cautiously, already backing toward your bedroom door. “I was supposed to be up 30 minutes ago. I don't have time to get ready.” “Sorry,” he mumbles, trying to hide a smile. “You looked too cute sleeping for me to wake you up.” He gets no response. You immediately get up and rush to get dressed—mainly because you’re trying to hide how warm your face suddenly feels.

 The walk to school feels weird now. Your shoulders brush every few steps, hands occasionally bumping before quickly pulling away again like neither of you knows what you’re allowed to do yet. 

“You’re being awkward,” you mumble eventually.

“I’m not.”

“You literally keep looking at me and then looking away.”

“That’s because you keep staring first.”

You scoff, nudging his arm lightly. He grins this time—small and shy and stupidly pretty. 

The school day was horrid. You drop him off at the swimming pool only to be met with Louis and Woojin’s glares the second you walk in.

“Why’re they even here this early?” you murmur to Keonho.

“Their school must hate them,” Keonho says, dropping his bag onto the bleachers.

The second you stepped into class, you were swept away by Moka. Who was now bombarding you with questions. “So, did you guys kiss?” 

“Moka, what the fuck?”

You later got to know that Moka had already told Yunah and Minju about your conversation yesterday, so they were quick to chime in. 

“That’s not a no,” Yunah points out.

“Oh my God,” you groan, dropping your head onto the desk.

The rest of the day goes exactly how you expected it to—Moka interrogating you while you avoid every single question thrown your way. By the end of the day, your head hurts and you haven’t seen Keonho once after you dropped him off. Nationals selections meant he’d be stuck at the pool for basically the entire school day. Thank God it was Friday. The only thing you were looking forward to now was going home and dissociating for the next two days.

The bell rang loudly, the sounds of chatter erupted, muffled sounds of bags being stuffed filled the room. School was over. And, Keonho? Not back in class yet. But, Seonghyeon wasn't in class either. Yunah turned, “Do you think Seonghyeon used Keonho as an excuse to bunk the last two classes?” You nodded your head half heartidly, too tired to formulate a proper response.

On the bleachers, Seonghyeon’s sitting beside Keonho, listening to his friend absolutely lose his mind over you. “And, we were so different yesterday? She’s still the same, but now I can’t stop thinking about her.”  He said running his fingers through his wet hair, “I don't know man, I–” Seonghyeon cuts him off, “Man, do you like the girl?”

Keonho sharply turns his head, “What? No.” He pauses, “No—I mean not no no, just…fuck, I don’t know.…” He stops, trying to figure out what to say. Seonghyeon stands up and grabs Keonho's shoulders, “So, if I go ask her out right now, would it be fine?” Keonho’s eyebrows furrow, “The fuck? Fuck no.” Seonghyeon laughs under his breath, “Alright so you like her. Go ask her out. Today.” Keonho’s gaze lowers to the floor, “I don’t want to fuck the friendship up man.” Seonghyeon grabs his bag from beside Keonho, “If you don’t do it soon, someone else will.” He pauses, “Who knows, maybe she likes you too?” a giggle, “Imagine someone else asks her out and she goes out with them because you're too scared to ask her out–” Keonho looks away so fast it’s almost defensive. “Stop blabbering, man. Jeez.” He gets up. Both of them walk to the class together. But all he can think about is someone else asking you out before he does. “Sean.” “Yeah?” He says, looking up from his phone. Keonho stops walking. “I’m asking her out. Today.”

Seonghyeon just stares at Keonho blankly, then nods a little. 

As both of them approach the class, Moka, Yunah and Minju are already all over you. You should be annoyed by all the teasing but, honestly? You don't mind. They both enter the class and conversation between everyone erupts naturally. Yunah chimes, “You bunked, again?” as seonghyeon just grins. 

Meanwhile, both you and Keonho struggle to say anything at all. Moka looks at you, then at Keonho, and then back at you. Before Moka can physically shove you toward him, Keonho walks over first. “Wanna leave?” You just look up at him before nodding slightly. He helps you pack your stuff, and before you can grab your bag—he does it. “Keonho, I can do that myself, you don’t have to carry it.” Keonho simply says, “I want to.” And walks away. You glance back at your friends. All four of them are smiling way too cheekily. You roll your eyes before muttering a quiet, “Bye,” and hurrying after Keonho.

The walk outside felt suffocating. It didn't slip into the comfortable silence you and Keonho were used to. It was so awkward you almost couldn’t take it anymore.

“Okay, what is wrong with you?” ou said, irritation slipping into your voice “Nothing?” “You’ve been so weird since you entered the class with Hyeon,” Keonho looks away immediately, adjusting the strap of your bag on his shoulder. “Wanna go to the dog park? My sister’s already there with Cookie.”

You blink at him. “In this heat?”

“Give me company?” A pause, “Please?” Now how can you say no to that? You both walk to the dog park and spot Keonho’s sister with Cookie. Cookie comes running to Keonho, jumping into his arms licking his face in excitement. A second later, Cookie was jumping on you too. You pull Cookie away and whine, “No Cookie, my makeup.”

Both Keonho and his sister laugh at you before his sister heads off. You and Keonho walk Cookie for a while in silence, before settling down on the park benches. The sun’s going down and the chatter in the dog park gets loud as more people come in. Cookie now rests against your feet, huffing from exhaustion. 

Neither you nor Keonho say a word. The silence between you is only broken every so often by Cookie’s barking somewhere near your feet. The tension is bad. Very bad.

Keonho clears his throat, breaking the silence. “Yn?” You don't look at him, “Yeah?” You see Keonho lean forward, his hands gripping the bench. “Can I ask you something?”

“Yeah”

He laughs nervously, “Promise you won’t make it weird?” You look at him now, eyebrows raised. “Yeah?” Keonho lets out a quiet laugh, but it sounds more nervous than amused. He runs a hand through his hair before finally looking at you. “When people say we’re dating…” He pauses, “You don’t hate it, right?”

You turn your gaze back to the pavement. You stay silent. Keonho finally looks away from you,  gaze lingering on the ground too. “Sorry–I made it weird,” You look back at Keonho frantically, “What? No–No never.” He looks back at you, his eyes wide with anticipation. You pause again—looking around the park. Looking everywhere but at him. You inhale loudly, “It’s just that…I don’t know how to say it,” “I like you.” Keonho blurts out. But this time, you don't look back at him, eyes still wandering around the park. You heard him, loud and clear. “What if we mess the friendship up? What if we fuck around and end up finding out?”

He finally looks at you, his pinky finger now interlocking with yours. “I’ve been spiraling. I’ll be honest, the only reason Seonghyeon skipped the last classes today was because I begged him to listen to me. I like you, I’m sure I do. If someone else confessed to you before I did—I’d be so mad.” He starts fiddling with Cookie’s leash, “I’d been trying to ignore my feelings for so long, I tried to pretend people calling you my girlfriend didn’t bother me—but fuck it did. Especially since yesterday. Yesterday it just—it felt so real.” He looks away from you now, “I just couldn’t lie to you anymore.” 

A smile appears on your face, “Lie to me about what?” Keonho groans, “Don’t make me say it again.” You scoot closer to him, “I’m actually confused.” Heat rises to his cheeks, they’re now visible red. “I couldn’t lie about the fact that I like you..” You let out a giggle, visibly blushing too. “Well, for the record—I like you too. I can’t even lie, I’ve been spiraling for a while too.” “Keonho’s face lights up, “You like me too!” He picks Cookie up in his arms, “She likes me back!” You start laughing, “Keonho, put Cookie down!” “No, you don't understand the significance of this, I was ranting to him last night.” Your eyebrows furrow, “You were ranting to your dog?” He puts Cookie down, He rubs the back of his neck awkwardly. “I mean, it did work…right? You’re my girlfriend now…right?”

You roll your eyes, “No stupid, take me out.” “Right, right. I’ll take you out.” You look at him, expression plain. “I mean, can I take you out?” You squeeze your eyes shut, “Oh you're bad at this, but yes. You can.”

He smiles at you, grabbing your hand and pulling you up. He leans down, making sure Cookie’s attached to the leash safely—his hand never leaving yours. “Let’s go home, it’s late.” He says all smiley. 

The whole walk home, his hand never leaves your. Instead, he seems to pull you closer every time he feels your hand slipping away. You don’t stop by the bridge today—it’s too late. Once you’re at the front door of your house, you try to pull your hand away. Keonho’s grip tightens again, “Do you have to go this early?” 

You roll your eyes at him, “Yes, it's a weekend tomorrow and I would really like to sleep.”

He whines, letting your hand go. “Fine, whatever.” 

You giggle softly, grabbing his hand again. Standing on your tippy toes, you cup his cheek with one hand before pressing a quick kiss against it. When you pull away, Keonho’s completely frozen. Then your eyes land on the faint glossy print left on his cheek. “…Aw,” you mumble, trying not to laugh. “Keon look! My lip gloss literally stamped your face.”

His eyes widen immediately. “What?”

You burst into laughter, pointing at the mark on his cheek. “That’s so cute.”

Keonho’s face goes completely red. He rubs at his cheek once before stopping halfway—like he suddenly doesn’t want to wipe it off anymore. You roll your eyes at the stupid smile spreading across his face. “Goodnight, Keon.”

He lets out a soft laugh, still looking a little dazed. “Goodnight, Ynie.”

By the time you step out of the shower, your cheeks still hurt from smiling. Your phone buzzes against your bed sheets.

The next day, Keonho updates you every hour. You get pictures with messages like—‘just reached the school, idw practice’

At around 4:59 p.m, you hear a knock at your door. It’s Keonho. He’s standing there with flowers in his hands and his hair slightly messed up and damp from the pool waters. As for you, when Keonho sees you—he almost forgets how to breathe. You had sat in front of your vanity for about an hour trying to make sure your makeup and outfit looked good today. You had a white dress on with a floral print, the sunlight caught in your hair, your lips tinted softly pink and your cheeks were flushed—and honestly, you weren’t sure if it was the blush or Keonho anymore.

Keonho awkwardly holds the flowers out. “You look…beautiful.” 

You let out a shy smile, taking the flowers from his hand and placing them carefully by the doorway. “Thank you, Keon.”

Keonho’s ears are red. His hand lingers between you, waiting for yours. You both walk to the café hand in hand. The café is small and cozy, filled with pink and brown decor and way too many desserts. You both settle down near the window, placing your orders. After the waiter leaves Keonho clears his throat, “So, what's up?” You laugh slightly, “You’re so bad at this Keon,” Keonho buries his face in his palms, “I’m trying, it’s hard to be normal when you’re nervous.”

“Why are you nervous now? You’ve known me since we were kids.” “Yeah, but now you’re pretty and it's scary.”

You blink at him. “Now?”

Keonho freezes. “That’s not what I meant.”

A laugh escapes you before you can stop it. He groans dramatically while you shake your head at him. Somehow, the awkwardness fades after that. The waiter arrives with your drinks first, then your desserts not long after. Keonho keeps stealing strawberries off your cake despite insisting that he “doesn’t even like sweets that much.”

“You’re so annoying,” you mumble, watching him eat another strawberry.

“I’m hungry.”

“You had practice for like eight hours, of course you’re hungry.”

Keonho shrugs before leaning back on his chair, sunlight spilling across his face from the window beside him. Outside, the evening streets are glimmering in the sunlight filtered from the leaves. 

Keonho stirs his drink absentmindedly. “I think this is the first time I’ve relaxed all week.”

You look up at him. His shoulders don’t look as tense now. His expression is softer too.

“Nationals?” you ask quietly.

He nods a little. “Coach keeps increasing practice hours.” He lets out a quiet laugh. “I think everyone expects me to qualify already.”

“You will.”

His gaze flicks toward you immediately. “You sound very sure.”

“I am.”

A small smile appears on his face at that. “You always say things so confidently,” he murmurs.

“Someone has to.”

Keonho looks down at his drink again, smiling faintly to himself. The conversation drifts after that. You both talk about the stupidest things—how Moka interrogated you last night about Keonho and how Seonghyeon reacted when he heard that Keonho’s actually taking you out.

By the time you both leave the café, the sky has already darkened into shades of pink and purple. The warm evening air brushes against your skin the second you step outside. Keonho reaches for your hand instinctively now, fingers slipping between yours naturally like he’s done it forever.

Your heart still reacts embarrassingly fast.

“You’re smiling to yourself,” he points out while walking beside you.

“No I’m not.”

“You literally are.”

You look away immediately. “Shut up.”

Keonho grins, squeezing your hand once before swinging both your arms slightly between you. At some point, Keonho suddenly stops walking.

You blink at him. “What?”

Without saying anything, he pulls his phone out. “…Why are you recording me?”

“You look pretty.”

“Keonho.”

“Stand there.”

You stare at him in disbelief while he laughs quietly, phone pointed toward you anyway. “Stop it.”

“Just one photo.”

“No.”

“Please?”

You narrow your eyes at him before reluctantly standing still for half a second with a forced smile. The second he clicks the picture, you walk toward him. “Delete it.”

“No.”

“Keonho.”

“It’s cute.”

You try grabbing his phone, but he lifts it higher above your head easily. “You’re evil.”

“And you’re too short to grab my phone.”

You roll your eyes at him. “Okay wow.”

He giggles loudly when you nudge his shoulder. Eventually, the two of you end up near his house without even realising it. Keonho glances toward his house before looking back at you. “You wanna come over now?”

You hesitate dramatically. “I don’t know…”

“Yn.”

“Are you sure? What if your parents thing im weird or something”

 “You’re like their second daughter, plus they’re leaving soon.” He pulls you to the door. “Just come in,” he mutters, grabbing your wrist and dragging you toward his house anyway.

The second you both enter his room, Cookie comes running again, barking excitedly at your feet. You crouch down immediately, rubbing behind his ears while Keonho tosses his phone onto the floor. You settle onto his bed while he disappears for a second before returning with two cold juice boxes from the fridge downstairs.

“You still drink these?” you ask.

“They’re good.”

“They’re made for children.”

“Whatever,” You and Keonho spent a good 3 hours just sprawled across the bed. You scroll on your phone, petting Cookie every now and then while Keonho’s busy playing some stupid game on his desk. You turn to your side, groaning. “Keonnn, it’s late. I think I'll head back.”

Keonho takes his headset off dramatically, “What? No. You can’t leave.” He stands up and walks over to you. He sits down on the bed, his hands cupping your face. “You’re sleeping over.” You giggle, “Keon I need to change my clothes, remove my makeup and take a shower.” “You can wear my clothes—or my sisters, use her makeup remover and shower here.” He leans down to place a kiss on your cheek, “Your parents won’t mind.” “Ugh, fine.” 

By the time you’re out of the shower, dressed in one of his sisters sweatpants and his t-shirt. Keonho’s already asleep on his bed, probably tired from the 8 hour practice. You smile at his sleeping figure as you turn the lights off before crawling into bed beside him. His arm instinctively wraps around your waist, pulling you closer to him. His chin resting atop of your head. You try to move but Keonho only tightens his grip around you. “Keonho let me move.” “No,” he says groggily, placing a sleepy kiss on the top of your head.

The sunlight filters through Keonho's curtains. Keonho tries slipping out of bed quietly, but the second he moves, your arm tightens around his torso. “No,” you mumble into his shirt, eyes still shut. “Five more minutes.”

Keonho lets out a laugh, glancing down at you. “Five?”

You pull him back down beside you immediately, burying your face against his chest. “No. Two more hours.”

“It’s literally noon.”

“It’s a Sunday," you groan dramatically. “Let me be.”

He laughs softly again. His fingers slide lazily through your hair while you slowly start falling back asleep against him. Keonho speaks again, voice lower now. “…I’m sorry in advance.”

You open your eyes slightly. “For what?”

He holds you tighter. “This week’s gonna suck.” He says, drawing patterns on your back absentmindedly. “Selections are next week. Coach already said he’s extending practice again.” A pause. “And the swim meet’s Friday."

You hum against him sleepily. “It’s okay Keon, I get it.”

“No, but like…really busy.” He exhales loudly. “I might barely text.”

You tilt your head up slightly to look at him. His hair’s messy, eyes still swollen with sleep, expression weirdly guilty over something that isn’t even his fault. “It’s fine,” you mumble again. “You act like you’re leaving me forever.”

His lips twitch slightly, but the smile doesn’t fully reach his eyes. “Still,” he says quietly.

You snuggle closer again before he can spiral any further. “You’re being too dramatic about this.”

“I am not.”

“You really are.”

Keonho rolls his eyes before wrapping both arms around you again, pulling you impossibly closer. “But,” he murmurs after a second, “you have to meet me saturday.”

You blink slowly. “Why Saturday?”

“Because.” He pauses. “I wanna see you before the main thing.”

You frown sleepily. “Keon, you know all of us are gonna be there.”

“Yeah, but…” He hesitates for a second. “I wanna meet just you first. Once.”

You giggle into his chest, ‘Alright. As you say, pretty boy.” Keonho freezes for a second, “Pretty what?” 

You finally pull away from Keonho’s chest, looking up at him with a smile. “Pretty boy.” You giggle, cupping his face as you place a peck on his lips. “H-Hey!” he says, completely flushed now. “You can’t just do that.” “Too bad.” You say as you bury your head in the crook of his neck. He sighs, “So I’m not even your boyfriend but you stole my first kiss?” “Okay. You can be my boyfriend, or whatever” Keonho just smiles at your answer, “Already knew that.” He thinks to himself as he pulls you away from the crook of his neck before peppering kisses all over your face while you try to shove him away laughing. 

The rest of the week goes by in a blur. You and Keonho don’t get to talk as much, his swim practices taking up most of his time. One night, he even tried arguing that he could stay up late just to talk to you, but of course, what kind of girlfriend would want her boyfriend showing up tired the next day? Even though his absence lingered through most of the week, the rare moments everyone saw him during lunch were full of teasing from the whole group—especially James, Martin, and Juhoon. They were the last ones to find out about the two of you. Martin was sulking. James immediately started whining,, “Okay, so you guys don’t care about us anymore.” Juhoon wasn’t bothered much, but he didn't hesitate to throw in a few teases here and there.

You and Keonho hung out like twice, mostly just him crashing at your house after practice. Your parents were gone for the week—so him sleeping over wasn’t a problem. One thing you couldn’t help noticing was how often Keonho talked about Louis and Woojin now. Their school had been practicing with yours, so of course—Keonho saw them more often than he wanted to. Every time you talked, at least an hour of it turned into Keonho ranting about how annoying both of them had gotten. Especially after they started outright threatening him over nationals.

One time, he explained how Louis had walked over to him sitting at the bleachers, “Gettin’ better huh?” Keonho looked up briefly, then went back to drinking water from his bottle. Louis didn’t like that. He didn’t like how Keonho didn’t react. Louis immediately slapped Keonho’s bottle out of his hand before grabbing the towel around his neck, roughly pulling him closer. “What’s your problem?” 

Keonho didn’t hold back. He shoved Louis away. “My problem? Do you want me to tell everyone about how you’ve been threatening me this whole week?” He scoffed, glaring at Louis. “You think your petty threats are gonna stop me from getting selected?”

“Louis landed a punch on Keonho, but Keonho hit him back three times and harder. That’s when Keonho finally admitted how bad things had gotten.  The coach and a few teammates had to physically pull them apart. 

After Keonho finishes talking, you grab his face, tugging him closer as you examine the faint bruise blooming across his cheekbone. “Keonho, what is wrong with you? Look.” You turn your phone camera on, angling it toward him. “You’re hurt.”

He chuckles. “It’s such a light bruise. You should’ve seen Louis.”

You smack his arm lightly. “That does not matter, you still got hurt.” You frown, leaning closer to his face as you kiss his bruise lightly. ‘Don’t get into fights for no reason.” Keonho pulls back, looking at you like he needs to defend himself immediately. ” “He hit me first.” You groan, “Ahn Keonho.”

 That made him sit straight. “Government name?” “I’m serious.” Keonho hugs you from the side, “Come on, anyway. You’re coming tomorrow right?” You tilt your head slightly, “The bridge?”

Keonho nods, “Yeah, around 7?” You hum, snuggling closer to him. 

And so, here you were. At the bridge at 7 p.m. sharp, with no Keonho in sight. “Great, he’s late,” you murmur to yourself. The chilly night air grazes your skin, sending a shiver up your spine. Moonlight glimmers against the surface of the water beneath the bridge, the same way it always does. You lean against the railing, taking a slow breath. Your peace is interrupted by a familiar voice.

“What are you doing here?”

You turn around—only to see Louis and Woojin standing side by side. You roll your eyes. “What do you both want?”

Woojin chuckles. “Your boyfriend to not make it to nationals.”

You eye him up and down. “Are you stupid? How am I related to his swimming skills? What the fuck?”

Louis steps closer, tilting his head slightly, invading your space. “Delay him, make him late to the selections. As simple as that.”

You scoff. “Yeah right. I’m going to sabotage my own boyfriend because you two pussies are too scared to actually compete with him. You’re real funny.”

Louis’ tongue presses against the inside of his cheek. “Either you listen to me now, or I’ll make you.”

You stare at him, confused. “Make me?”

That’s all it takes. Louis’ hand snaps up and grabs your shoulders, yanking you closer. “Are you fucking stupid?” he snaps, voice suddenly loud. “Are my words not clear?”

You try to grab his arms, ‘What’s–” You pause trying to fight back, “What’s wrong with you?” You yell. You grip the low railing behind you, trying to stabilise yourself. Your words and pleas to be let go off are cut of by Louis shouting at you repeatedly, “Gosh, You’re so fucking stupid.”

“Louis, let me go.” to make matters worse, Woojin on the side starts recording, he leans in closer trying to take more zoomed in shots. 

Your yelling is cut off by something dropping hard onto the ground. The next second, Louis is yanked backward so suddenly he stumbles away from you. You barely process it before your eyes snap up.

Keonho.

He’s here.

His gaze lands on you — and everything in his face changes. Before anyone can react, he shoves Louis back again, then turns sharply toward Woojin. Woojin barely has time to step back before Keonho’s already on him, forcing him away from the situation entirely.

The space between you all explodes into chaos. Woojin hesitates for half a second—then he’s gone. He backs away fast, like something in him finally clicks that this isn’t a safe space anymore. His running footsteps fade into the distance, leaving only the three of you on the bridge and the sound of your breathing turning sharp and uneven.

Keonho doesn’t even look at him leave. But, Louis does and that little second of distraction is all it takes for Keonho to move. “Don’t you ever touch her again,” Keonho snaps, landing another punch on Louis’ already red cheek. 

Louis laughs under his breath, wiping his mouth like he’s annoyed more than he is hurt. “Or what?”

You try to step forward, to get between them, but you can’t. Even if you did—Keonho would push you away. “Keonho, stop—” you start, but your voice gets swallowed by the rising tension.

Louis tilts his head. “You’re really showing up now? This late?”

Keonho takes a step closer instead of answering. “You don’t get to talk to her like that.”

Louis scoffs, tightening his grip on Kenoho's collar. “I don’t get to? You think you’re in a position to tell me anything? Can’t even show up to meet your girlfriend on time”

The words agitate Keonho more. You see it in the way his jaw tightens, the way his hands curl like he’s barely holding himself back.

“Say what you want about me,” Keonho says, voice sharper now, “but don’t involve her.”

Louis’ smile drops slightly as he punches Keonho. “That’s funny. Because she’s exactly the point.” 

You move forward again, panic rising. “Both of you stop—Keonho, please—”

But neither of them is listening anymore. Everything happens too fast after that—raised voices, movement, the space between them filling up with yells and punches. Your words can’t calm  it anymore. 

“Fuck, why are you here now?” Louis spits.

Keonho doesn’t hesitate. “Why shouldn’t I be?”

Louis’ expression sharpens. “I’m going to make sure you don’t make it to nationals.”

Keonho chuckles. “Try.”

Your hands shake as you fumble for your phone, vision blurred by panic. Your grip tightens on the phone too hard as you hit James’ contact before you even fully think. Your voice comes out broken with deep breaths. “James—at the bridge. Now. Louis and Keonho—just come, please—”

There’s a pause on the other end. “What? Fuck—wait, I’m two minutes away. I’m coming.”

You barely hear it properly before the call drops. When you look up again, Louis is standing closer to you now. He moves suddenly, grabbing you and pulling you behind him like a shield, positioning you so Keonho can see everything clearly.

“Let go of her,” Keonho says immediately, voice breaking into something darker now. “Don’t bring her into this.”

Louis’ grip tightens. “Or what?” he mutters, almost taunting. “You’ll step down from nationals?”.

Keonho doesn’t even hesitate, “As long as you leave her.”

Silence falls in for a second, even Louis was taken aback.  Then his grip shifts, dragging you closer to the railing, your breath catching as panic spikes through your chest.

“You really trust him?” Louis murmurs near your ear. “Because I don’t.”

Keonho steps forward immediately. “Don’t.”

Louis exhales, almost amused now. “You know what I think?”

His hand tightens slightly. “I think one push and this all becomes a lot simpler.”

Your stomach drops.

“Let her go,” Keonho says, voice shaking now. “Right now.”

Louis looks at him over your shoulder. Then he smiles. “Why should I?” Just as Louis tries to scare Keonho further, he sees James running towards the scene in the background. 

“Keonho—!” James’ voice cuts through the bridge like a warning.

Louis hesitates, that’s all it takes. Something in his conscience tells him it’s a good idea.

James reaches them in seconds, jumping straight into the situation, as he starts yelling at both of the guys. Louis is completely distracted by James’ rant. Keonho takes the chance, he rushes closer to you. But, just because Louis is focused on James, doesn't mean his grip on you has weakened. 

The second Louis spots Keonho trying to grab onto you, he doesn't hesitate. He pushes you harshly. Your breath catches as the grip around you shifts—then releases—and suddenly the world tilts.

The railing is gone, you hit the waters harshly—shouting as you fall. 

Silence follows like the world itself doesn’t understand what just happened. James grabs Louis and everything collapses at once. James hits Louis Uncontrollably. Keonho is already moving before the sound fully registers. hitting him continuously as Keonho doesn't hesitate to jump into the harsh currents himself.

The next moments blur. Keonho doesn’t think—he reacts. He’s in the water before the thought fully lands, eyes scanning the surface, searching for you in the harsh currents. He takes a deep breath and dives in. Every time he comes up, he’s breathing harshly.

“Yn? Where are you?” He yells helplessly. He’s panicking, he’s fighting himself internally.

Why was I late?If I was there sooner—

Such thoughts flood his brain. To him, it’s his fault. That’s all he thinks about. But he has no time to calm himself now. Not when you’re nowhere to be seen. 

His world pauses again, he takes a deep breath and dives in again. As he tries to navigate through the cold and dark waters. A hand touches him. He grabs onto it tight as he swims back to the surface. And then, he sees your face. You’re unconscious. 

He drags you out of the water with urgency, refusing to accept what his mind is trying to tell him. Every step feels heavy, until finally he gets you onto the grass nearby. 

You’re not moving. Not an inch. Your chest doesn't rise and fall—you’re not breathing.

Keonho drops beside you instantly. “No, no, no, stay with me.” His hands are shaking so badly he can barely hold still. His voice breaks completely as he pleads with you, over and over, like his words alone could change reality. “Yn, please. Please look at me.”

No answers. He leans down to you, placing his mouth on yours as he tries to pump air into your lungs. Nothing changes, there's no expression on your face, not a single muscle moves. He pulls you closer like he’s afraid to let you go. His face is close to yours, his forehead touching yours.  “I’m sorry… I’m sorry—please…” He starts crying. James’ voice cuts through Keonho’s sobs—“They’re here.”

James had called people beforehand, just in case something escalated. Which it did. When the paramedics try to pull you away from Keonho, his grip just tightens on you. “No–no.” James pulls Keonho back as he whispers to him, “She’s okay, she’ll be okay. Let them help her.” Keonho can’t help but sob uncontrollably. He knows you’re not okay. There's no pulse. Your lips were blue.

Keonho now stands in front of a stone. A stone that holds your name.

Yn, 2009–2026.

He gets on his knees next to it, placing the same flowers down that he got you on your first date. Tears threaten to spill from his eyes. “I’m sorry.” He lets out a broken sob. “I’m so sorry. Only if I arrived earlier, only if I—” He can’t speak anymore. Tears run down his face, and he can taste the salt on his lips. His breath is shaky, eyes now red.

“I know I come by here every other week and just cry,” he lets out a hiccup. “I know, if you were here you’d tell me to shut up and say—‘you’re so annoying.’” He touches your grave lightly. “I can’t help but think it’s all my fault. I’m sorry, Yn. I’m sorry. I barely got to spend time with you as your boyfriend—I barely got to treat you right.”

He finally wipes his face, taking a deep breath. He tries to speak again but is interrupted by a camera flash. He looks toward the direction of it quickly before getting up and hiding his face. Five paparazzi start walking behind him, throwing questions like—

How do you feel about winning the Olympic awards for 2032? How does it feel knowing you achieved so much at just 23? How does it feel having two Olympic medals just a few years into your career?

Keonho doesn’t answer any of them. He just turns his phone on to check the time—his wallpaper a picture of both of you cuddled up in his room. Tears flood his face again as he rushes to his car.

The driver pulls off while all Keonho can do is sob into his palms, knowing you’re not there to comfort him anymore, knowing you’re not there to support him anymore, knowing you don’t know the two-time Olympic gold medalist Keonho has become.