nara

O1. kwon ohyul

there is something about mornings with ohyul that isn't easy to put into words.

maybe it's about how protected you feel when his arm is holding you in place, as if he were afraid that you'd leave in his sleep. no harm or danger in this world can reach you when his grip is so gentle, so warm, so needy.

or maybe it's about the unmeasurable amounts of love in your chest when his fingers start running through the sensitive skin of your arms—just how you like to be woken up.

life becomes easier when you two melt into each other. worries feel lighter and the pain that comes with growing up fades away: the sunlight filtering through the curtains of your room, the birds chirping, and your boyfriend opening his eyes at the same time you do.

there’s a whole mechanism to make sure that always happens; it’s not just a romantic coincidence, it’s a formula. ohyul doesn't just wake up or wake you up out of nowhere—he moves. he tosses and turns, makes these tiny little sounds, accidentally "uncovers" you, pulls you into a tighter hug… until you're both sure the other isn't in the middle of some deep sleep phase anymore.

and there’s comfort in that, too. in the weight of the blanket covering both of you, in the way his body is always warmer, acting like an extra layer of protection. it’s in the little kisses he gives your shoulders, your back, and your ears before you’re even fully awake—since he always seems to brighten up faster than you do. it’s in the muffled, incomprehensible praises he mumbles with his very first breath of the day.

"morning," he muttered, voice raspy and low, his thumb reaching for your cheek to caress it.

you weren't quite sure what time it was. what you definitely knew was that you still wanted to sleep, at least for a little longer. but ohyul wasn't a late sleeper; he'd squeeze the best out of every single one of his mornings and drag you with him because «it's healthier than rotting in bed.»

and if he came to you like this—brushing his hands all over your face, detangling your hair, pecking your nose… how could you not let him be and be with him?

"five more minutes," you begged, rotating to your other side, your back now facing him, eyelids dropping again.

"c'mon," he giggled, now spooning you. his body fit perfectly against yours, his leg wrapping around your waist just to annoy you. "wanna have breakfast in that fancy spot you saw on instagram last night?" he whispered to your ear.

that was unfair. he knew it always worked on you, just like offering a treat to a kid would.

"i'm listening," you replied, squeezing one eye open, turning your head just enough to see his face.

he kissed your shoulder at that, smiling against your skin. with no rush in his movements, he hooked his arm around you and pulled you toward him, making you land on your back. he hovered over you, his gaze soft before his lips met yours passionately.

the kiss was messy and slow, as always: mornings were the time of your lives.

your synchronized mouths were just slightly open, your breaths still heavy and tasting of sleep. yet, there wasn't a trace of disgust or hesitation in the slow, steady, grounding way his tongue rhythmically played against your lower lip.

his hand found its way to your hip just as your fingers caught the hair at the back of his head, pulling him closer, trying to bridge the tiny gap for a hug.

that intimacy was what made your relationship so special. the cutesy, the innocence, the purity. the peace of two souls madly in love with each other.

"this is all i ever wished for," he said, breaking the kiss, not being able to take his eyes off you.

"us kissing without brushing our teeth?"

"waking up next to you, asshole," one last peck on your lips before getting comfortable at the crook of your neck, his head resting on your arm. "couldn't get the idea out of my head since i imagined it for the first time."

"and when exactly was that?"

his hand, that was tracing circles on your stomach, stopped. just as he swears his heart did.

he dead stared at you in silence, the weight of the question sinking in.

"i…" he cleared his throat, trying to recall. "we were just friends. you crashed at my place because it was the nearest place and it was raining too bad outside. i opened the door to a stray puppy," he cackled, the memory hitting him just right. "you were dripping wet from head to toe, your hair all frizzed, your eyeliner all over your face. i had to lend you a towel and clothes, and then your phone wouldn't turn on…"

"and i asked you for a bowl of rice because i thought it would come to life again that way," you added, reminiscing so neat it felt like it was yesterday and not a year ago.

"yes, and you were laughing and joking about the whole thing, explaining why you didn't have an umbrella with you in the first place and even tossing your clothes into my dryer without asking, while i was still mopping up the floor you ruined."

"… is that it?"

"that was the day i thought to myself that this beautiful chaos was all i needed," he shrugged, his hand resuming its circling on your tummy once again.

"you fell in love with me at my worst-looking moment? even though i was a mess?"

"i fell in love with that mess," he clarified, his eyes getting a little watery. "with the rawest version of you, because i knew it was the one i'd wanna wake up to for the rest of my life."

O2. kim ryul

there's nothing worse than spending hours stirring food in a pot, chopping vegetables, and adjusting the heat, only to discover in the last taste before serving that maybe you added more salt than required.

and that's what happened that night.

ryul and you agreed to cook together and watch a movie, but as always, 'cooking together' translates into cooking by yourself while he yaps sitting at the table, either playing minecraft or just staring at you, complaining about how woojin and louis annoyed the shit out of him at the dorm.

the kitchen was a complete mess. wheat flour was scattered all over the counter, and the balloon whisk was dripping right onto where the onion scraps rested on the cutting board instead of in the trash. but the kitchen would just have to wait until you could clean it yourself later, because if you relied on your 'super-assistant,' you’d die waiting.

every now and then he’d make a little noise, or curse under his breath when a creeper exploded nearby or when he forgot some crafting material. he also complained about the respawn point being way too far from all his builds and how much he hated going to the nether with ohyul, because video games were the only weakness he knew of that man, which was maybe a good thing for later.

he would sometimes glance over at you, but even if you were wiping the steam off your forehead with the back of your hand, he wouldn't get up from the laptop at the dining table. it wasn't because he was a bad boyfriend or because he was lazy, but because he was terrified of you: that mess we already mentioned? he had made all of it by accident. and that’s how it usually went. he’d burn the meat when you tried to grill, he had no idea how to make rice, and soups would always boil over on him, staining the entire stove.

but he had one unavoidable job, and he loved it.

"ryul, can you taste this? i think it's too salty," you asked, a spoon of thick, white béchamel cream held between your fingers as you walked over to him.

"don't even ask." he would never turn down the opportunity to proof-taste the food. it was his task to conduct the quality control, at the end of the day. if something went wrong, it would be entirely his fault. he took this great power with great responsibility, as one would expect him to do.

he blew on it a little to avoid burning himself (as has happened in the past for getting too desperate with the delicious aroma of anything edible) and carefully tasted what you gave him. his expression turned serious as if he were savoring a five-star dish, suddenly putting more pressure on you. "just a little more cooking, that's all."

"what?" you replied, incredulous. "isn't it over-seasoned?"

"it’s perfect," he cupped your face and poked the tip of your nose, smiling. "i’m the taster, trust me." he raised his palm and furrowed his brow, as if giving a final verdict.

ryul would never say your food tasted bad, no matter how off it might be. or would he? you convinced yourself of that, at least. "i don't want to trust your skills today."

"why?"

"biased taste buds."

"i'm in love with you, i wouldn't lie. especially not about food," he said, turning off his laptop, finally tired of playing for the day. his attention was finally for you and only you. "i don't play when it comes to food. or to you," a wink.

"since when have you been in love with me?"

he clicked his tongue, maybe a little annoyed by the way the question was phrased. "you better be joking."

"i don't mean it that way, dummy," you rolled your eyes with a smirk, your hands back in action at the stove, opening the pack of pasta. "i mean, when did you know you were in love with me?"

he looked away in silence toward a fixed point on the horizon, right where his eyes wouldn't touch you or anything else, as if dissociating helped him remember. "well…" he took a deep breath, sighing. "i don't know."

"i see," you snapped, pouring the pasta into the pot of boiling water. "thanks."

"don't start," he warned. "let me finish."

he gently pulled you away from the stove, his hands guiding your body’s movement from your waist, trapping you between the counter and his body. he rested his forehead against yours, a pout forming on that face that only knew two expressions according to jay. "it just happened," he whispered. "i can't tell when i knew i was in love with you because i think i've always been and i was simply too distracted to notice what was going on."

"but then you should remember the moment you actually noticed what was going on," you blurted out, gritting your teeth.

he had to remember something. a date, a moment, a flavor, a word, a smell… how could he not remember a single detail?

"that was when i asked you to be my girlfriend," he snapped back bluntly. "it caught up to me, dear. i was way too involved and way too deep when i named what i felt. and i asked you out that day, because i also noticed it was reciprocal."

"but i've been head over heels for you since august, and you asked me in february… did it take you that long?" you looked down for the first time since the conversation started, your faces still so close that the breath from every word warmed each other's skin.

he let out a dry chuckle, one that only you would manage to get out of him. "you fell first," he stepped back, the scent of his cologne fainting in the air, his index finger pointing up as he turned off the stove to strain the pasta soon. "i fell harder."

O3. jung woojin

"woojin, i told you i can do it!" you protested once again, sure that adding a little stomp on the ground would be enough to convince your boyfriend not to carry your shopping bags.

deep down, you knew damn well that the task was impossible.

"i don't care if you can do it," he argued, his free hand finding yours to squeeze it tightly. "i don't want you to."

his left arm was packed with bags of all kinds, colors, and sizes, some heavier than others. he didn't seem to be struggling despite the crazy amount and how crowded they looked against his lean frame; in fact, he looked like he was actually enjoying it.

it wasn't something easy to be sure of because his sunglasses hid his eyes, but the rest of his body has always been an expert at speaking for him, more than his words or his gaze ever could.

"i don't know why you're so stubborn," you shook your head in disapproval, feeling a bit embarrassed. "you're already paying for everything."

"i don't know why you won't just let me love you," he countered, his thumb caressing the back of your hand already intertwined with his, his voice softening with every word. "your only job today is to try on clothes that make you feel pretty. the rest is on me," he turned to look at you intently, tilting his head down just enough so you could see the seriousness in his eyes behind the lenses. "bags included. and don't exaggerate, we're thrifting, not buying dior."

and well, if he insisted…

the truth was, you loved this. the fact that he was so attentive, so thoughtful, so in love. that translated into a thousand ways through his actions, but going shopping was the one you both liked the most.

you could spend hours walking through the city streets, discovering new flea markets and hidden shops tucked away in some quiet corner, always holding hands and telling stories.

he liked carrying the bags because that way, when it started getting hot, you could feed him his chocolate sundae, and when he took you home, you’d let him lay on the couch with you for a while.

he also liked paying to make sure you always had all the things you wanted, but his favorite part was helping you find the pieces that flattered you most, and then styling them once they were in your closet.

out of shyness, you always asked him not to do any of that. luckily, he never gave in to those pleas. you probably would've been really sad if he actually had.

"uh, let’s go in here," he stopped in front of a smoothie shop, and you could've sworn his mouth was watering by the way he licked his lips. "we could use a break while we figure out what else we need. i think some belts, and maybe a beanie or a red cap."

"smart," you nodded, taking his sunglasses and pushing them up into his hair, lightly brushing your fingers against his cheek.

"always," he winked, pushing the glass door open for both of you. "the usual?" he asked, letting all the bags drop onto one of the tables and patting his pockets in search of his wallet.

you snorted, "you know my usual in smoothies?"

"how long do you think we've been together, weirdo?"

"less than a year."

"long enough," he retorted, sliding his card out of the wallet. "be right back," he added, walking away to order.

you watched him walk over to the counter, bowing to the cashier before handing over his card. "why is he so cute?" you thought to yourself. then, you looked down at the pile of thrifted bags next to you, and at your own reflection in the glass window, casually wearing some clothes he had once helped you pick out.

butterflies started doing weird things in your tummy, and that is when a full inquiry popped up in your head.

he placed them on the table and pulled up his chair to sit down. you took your glass, tracing figures on the condensation with your finger, before looking up to him. "when did you realize you were in love with me?"

he raised his eyebrows in surprise, looking down at you. he tapped his nose twice, and finished pulling his chair closer to sit without breaking his silence. "to what do i owe the question?"

"curiosity," you replied, taking a sip of your cold drink.

"the number one reason why cats die," he teased, stirring his drink with his favorite bamboo straw.

"good thing i'm not a cat."

"liar."

he stopped to think for a few seconds that felt like an eternity, his drink still untouched. "it was the first time we went shopping, actually," he spoke, tapping his fingers from pinky to index on the table. "when you tried on the exact outfit you're wearing right now and asked me if i liked it."

"give me all the details," you whined, throwing a little childish pout his way.

"there are no details," he shrugged, offering a soft, unapologetic smile. "you asked me if those clothes looked good on you, and i just realized you could be wearing a potato sack and you’d still be the most beautiful girl on the planet to me," he finally took a small sip of his drink. "and that i was already screwed for life."

"recovering from that?" you teased.

"not a single bit," he declared, his voice firm and unwavering, leaving no room for doubt. "every time we go shopping, i remember that day all over again. you still make me nervous when i see you trying on new clothes," he confessed.

"because my beauty and my fashion are stunning?"

"because you gave me the key to help you in such an important task," he blushed, his hand reaching across the table to squeeze yours. "it's like getting to know you better every time you try out a new style. and i never want to stop getting to know you."

O4. lim louis

do you know how annoying it is to be about to cross the finish line and hear a blue shell coming right to you?

yeah. that wasn't the case this time.

you and louis were sitting in the tiny space between his bed and the tv, cross-legged on the cold floor. a bowl full of chips sat between you two, chips that you'd occasionally grab in fear of losing focus. one single movement, and louis could win. you didn't wanna give him that chance.

to be playing the rainbow road circuit, you lucked out by winning the race. and it was 150 cc. you were totally the mvp of the day… right?

louis let out a long sigh, dropping his head back against the edge of the mattress. he let the wii controller rest on his lap, dramatically staring at the ceiling.

you glanced at him, a grin forming on your face as you nudged his shoulder with your elbow.

"you let me win," you stated, convinced.

"why would i?" he mumbled. "you got better. who you've been practicing with?"

"louis, you did,"

"i didn't,"

"you did,"

"i freaking didn't,"

"yes, you freaking did," you rolled your eyes, taking a fist full of chips from the bowl and stuffing them into your mouth. "don't cap," you said, still chewing.

"stop it with the ASMR" he sat up, a disgusted voice tone. "you're just good," looking at the final standings on the screen.

"i've seen you play against the guys," you snapped, taking the controller away from his lap. "you always beat them. and they're all better than me."

"them? better than you?"

"don't give me that."

"and what if i did let you win, huh?" he blurted out, ripping his controller from your grab. "you want me to play like i hate you? is that what you're asking for?"

you chuckled. "do you hate the guys?"

"kinda," he giggled. "promise you won't get mad at me."

"oh, so you're admitting," you caught him. "i promise."

"lemme show you why, then."

he pressed the 'rematch' button so hard you swear it could be broken now.

and well, this time… he sadly didn't hold back for you.

you'd like to know where he learned how to dodge every single item you'd throw at him, and how he memorized every shortcut of the circuit. you should have seen this coming, him winning like it was nothing.

and he reacted just like that, as if it was nothing. the bread of every day.

you stared at the screen in awe, your jaw dropping slightly. you tossed your controller onto the bed behind you and stood up, annoyed. "never again, jourdain," you huffed, refusing to look at him.

"you know i love you."

you slowly turned your head back to look at him, a mischievous spark making you forget what just happened. "when did you realize that?"

louis's eyes went wide. "w-what?" he stuttered.

"when did you know you loved me?" you repeated, a teasing smirk growing on your face.

"why you asking? why now?" he asked, his entire face turning red just as the tip of his ears. "i don't even—i don't even remember!"

"louis…" you sang out, raising one eyebrow accusingly.

"bro, no" he groaned, hiding his face in his hands. "i'm not answering that."

"sure?"

he whined adorably, throwing himself backward onto the floor, shoving a pillow directly over his face. "it's too cheesy," he muttered. "it was… it was a few months ago," he started, his voice choking on the pillow, so he lifted it just enough for you to listen . "i was on a break from practice, and i had my headphones on…"

he stopped, gripping on the sides of the pillow to the point his knuckles got white.

"and?" you prompted, encouraging him.

"and this song came on," he said. "and the lyrics were talking about you, even though i had listened to it for years. you change my perspective on everything, for good. i'm telling you, you shaped me differently. i was happier, and it showed."

a small, shy smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "and the moment i realized every single love song on my phone suddenly sounded like you, i knew i'd have to bag you or i wouldn't be able to listen to my own playlist anymore."

"do you still listen to it?"

"every day," he bragged. "same amount of times i let you win at any game—"

"at ANY game?" you interrupted him aggressively. "you let me win every time?!" you barked, disappointed but somehow not surprised.

"uhm, i—"

he didn't give you a chance to process the amount of words he had just dropped on you. before you could even say a thing to keep protesting, and very afraid of you —expected from him—, louis slammed the pillow to your face.

"i knew it," you stated, hands up, surrendering.

"now you know all you wanted to know," he shrugged. "don't bring it up ever again or i will break up with you," his legs kicking the air in pure shame. "not caring if i have to make another playlist or a whole new spotify account."

you couldn't help but burst out laughing, your heart feeling incredibly light and full as you jumped onto him to give him the hug he deserved. "you're the best, lou."

"i know," he said, his hand caressing your back. "even at games."

"don't screw it."

"sorry babe," he obeyed.

But despite it all, you still knew how much he loved you — and how much he wanted to be there.

God, you knew and that made it hurt so much worse.

He'd been talking about your graduation for months, voice bright with excitement every time he brought it up because he was proud of how you’ve made it this far and fought all the many battles that had set you back.

He wanted pictures of you in your cap and gown. He wanted to buy you flowers, and sit through the painfully long ceremony just to hear your name called for five seconds, and be the one cheering the loudest when you walked across that stage.

But three nights ago, he'd called sounding exhausted and guilty all at once, and you'd known before he even said it.

"I don't think I can make it." His voice cracked slightly on the last word.

And even though your chest burned and disappointment crashed through you so violently you had to press your palm against your sternum to breathe — you still told him it was okay immediately.

Of course it was okay... you loved him too much to make him feel worse about something he couldn't control and you loved him enough to break your own heart quietly so his wouldn't hurt more than it already did.

"It's okay, my love. Really. I understand."

"I'm so sorry—"

"Don't apologize. You can't help it."

But you'd cried after hanging up — so hard that your roommate knocked on your door asking if you were alright… and then it all piled at once. You cried for him and you cried for yourself. You cried because you were so tired of understanding and you cried from the exhaustion of being the supportive girlfriend who never complained.

And you felt guilty for even feeling that way.

He worked so hard and had sacrificed so much.. so who were you to demand his presence when his dreams required everything from him?

So now, sitting in the sea of graduates while the ceremony dragged on endlessly beneath the hot afternoon sun, you tried focusing on literally anything else, like the speeches that blurred together into meaningless noise, or the friends around you that had been fanning themselves with their programs, and even the several cords and sashes that sat around your neck, playing with them between your fingers.

You tried not to look at the audience of families, friends and loved ones, but naturally, your eyes searched for him everywhere you went, even when you knew he wouldn't be there.

Even when you'd accepted his absence, your heart still looked for him like a compass pointing north.

The sun beat down mercilessly, and your gown stuck to your skin underneath, but you barely noticed at this point. You were too busy trying not to think about how this was supposed to be your day, but it felt pointless without the person who supported you through it all.

When your name was finally called, applause echoed around you as you walked across the stage with a practiced smile, accepting your diploma while cameras flashed from the crowd. The moment should have felt triumphant. But instead, it felt hollow.

You spotted your family immediately high up in the crowd, their proud faces beaming — your close friends beside them too, screaming your name enthusiastically.

But still no Jongseob.

For a second, disappointment hit harder than you expected. It was a physical blow that made your smile falter, and your eyes sting with tears you absolutely could not shed in front of hundreds of people.

But it was not enough to ruin the day. Never that.. but your smile still trembled once you stepped offstage, causing you to take three deep breaths before rejoining the fellow graduates in your row..

In that moment you wondered, just for a second, if loving him was worth feeling this alone.

After the ceremony ended, the stadium exploded into cheers, music, and applause. Families flooded the lawn with bouquets and balloons while graduates hugged each other as cameras clicked nonstop..

The air smelled like crushed grass and perfume and the faint sweetness of flowers. Everyone was celebrating loudly around you, but you still felt strangely distant from it all — like you were watching your own life through frosted glass.

And just when you were in the middle of taking pictures with your friends, forcing your smile wider.. you heard your name.

And it had come from a voice you'd recognize anywhere. A voice that lived in your chest, heard in dreams, and memorized in every tone and inflection.

Your head snapped around so fast it made your heart stutter so violently against your ribs.

But there he was — standing awkwardly near the edge of the crowd in a cream hoodie and a baseball cap pulled low over his eyes, holding the most ridiculously oversized bouquet you'd ever seen in your life.

White tulips, baby's breath, and pale pink roses, your favorites, you realized with a sharp intake of breath, far too many flowers for him to realistically carry properly.

For a moment you genuinely thought you imagined him the way your vision blurred and knees went weak. It was like the whole world twisted sideways.

Jongseob’s eyes found yours instantly, and the second they did, every ounce of tension left his shoulders — as if finding you was the only thing grounding him there. You couldn't move, breathe, or do anything except stare at him like he'd magically appeared from your desperate wishes.

"I'm late," He said breathlessly when you finally reached him — your legs had forgot how to work for a moment, but they carried you to him so fast you nearly tripped over your gown.

"You came…” Was all you managed back, your voice embarrassingly small.

Something in his expression softened immediately or.. crumbled, really. He'd been holding himself together by sheer force of will and your words had undone him completely.

"Of course I came." His voice cracked. "Did you really think I wouldn't?"

And suddenly you were crying.

Tears welled up before you could stop them, hot and fast and overwhelming, because he was here. Somehow through all the schedules and managers and flights and exhaustion and every obstacle that should have kept him away, he was standing in front of you at your graduation exactly like he promised and wanted to be.

He panicked instantly the moment he saw your face crumple. "No, no, don't cry — baby, please—"

He gripped the bouquet into one arm clumsily and pulled you against him so quickly you almost laughed through your tears. His arm wrapped around your waist tightly, desperately, like he was afraid you'd disappear if he didn't hold on hard enough.

His chin pressed softly on the top of your head over your graduation cap, and you felt him exhale shakily against you — a sound of pure relief. He smelled like airport coffee and his familiar cologne that made you cry harder.

"Shhh… it’s okay." He mumbled softly, and you could hear the smile in his voice now, affectionate and teasing. "Are you upset..?"

"God, no," You sniffled against his hoodie, fingers clutching the fabric at his back. "I just — I really missed you. So much. Every day."

That completely melted him.

You felt it happen physically with the way his grip tightened around you until you could barely breathe, the quiet exhale against you that sounded almost like a sob, and the tiny kiss he pressed near your temple before remembering where you were.

His hand came up to cradle the back of your head, thumb stroking gently through your nicely styled hair tucked beneath the cap.

"I missed you too," He whispered, voice thick. "Every second. I'm so sorry I made you think I wouldn't come."

"How come you said you couldn't—"

"I lied." He pulled back just enough to look at you fully, his eyes were glassy with unshed tears. "I wanted to surprise you. I took the earliest flight. I've been awake for thirty-six hours. I was going to crawl here if I had to."

Before you said anything else, you noticed hard states and cameras from people you didn’t quite recognize. This sweet moment had convinced you so hard that for a moment this was private but.. no.

This was very public.

You let out a small smile before the two of you pulled apart at the exact same moment, suddenly aware of the attention he’s gathered.

Some were whispering already, hands covering their mouths in shock. A few students nearby had their phones out, eyes wide with recognition, fingers trembling as they tried to discreetly record. One girl looked seconds away from losing her mind entirely, gripping her friend's arm so hard her knuckles were white.

Usually, that would've been enough for Jongseob to take a couple steps back immediately. Your relationship had survived this long because you were careful since the two of you had built your love in the shadows because the light would destroy it.

But today, he looked at you like none of that mattered.

Because you were the only thing that mattered and lord, he would’ve gone crazy if he had to continue hiding the best thing in his life.

"You look really pretty," He mumbled quietly, eyes scanning over your graduation gown and cap with as much admiration. He looked so in awe, gazing at you with a love that was so overwhelming it couldn't be contained. “Sorry I was late.. I kinda missed most of your ceremony.”

You laughed weakly, wiping at your cheeks with shaking hands. "You brought enough flowers to make up for it."

"Yeah — I thought bigger would help."

"It did a little." You touched one of the tulip petals gently, and it was silk-soft against your fingertips. "They're perfect. You remembered my favorites."

"Of course I did.” He smiled. “I remember everything about you." He grinned, sweet, crooked, and so unbearably cute that your heart hurt.

He was going to be the death of you — seriously.

And maybe it was the emotions from the day finally catching up to you, or maybe it was because he looked so openly in love with you despite the crowd watching, but before you could overthink it, you reached up and fixed the chain sitting crooked beneath his hoodie collar.

Such a tiny gesture but so familiar as it was something you'd done a hundred times in private,m like in his bedroom or just in any of the quiet moments when it was the two of you and the rest of the world didn't exist.

But the look on his face afterward made your breath catch.

His eyes went soft and vulnerable, lips parting slightly like you'd done something profound instead of simply straightening his necklace. His hand came up to catch yours, pressing your palm flat against his chest where his heart was racing.

"Can I kiss you?" He asked suddenly, voice quieter now, almost nervous. God he was nervous??? He’s kissed you millions of times before yet you still had this affect.

Your eyes widened immediately. "Here?"

"I don't really care right now." His thumb stroked across your knuckles. "You're the most important person in my life, and I need to show you what that means to me."

You glanced around nervously, hearing the whispers growing louder by the second, seeing more phones appear.

"Seob… what if—"

"I don't care." His voice was firm now, certain. "I want everyone to know you're mine and how proud I am."

Your heart was going to explode. "Are you sure you’re thinking clearly—"

"I've never been more sure of anything." He stepped closer, his free hand coming up to cup your cheeks, warm and gentle and steady. "I'm proud of you. I'm so proud I could burst. And I want to kiss my girlfriend right now. Please."

Honestly? You couldn't say no to him even if you tried.

So without another word, you let him lean down carefully, one hand warm against your cheek while the other held the absurd bouquet. He kissed you sweetly right there in the middle of the field.

His lips were gentle against yours, tasting like mint chapstick and desperation and home. It was chaste yet devastating — a promise, a claim, and an apology all at once. The kind of kiss that screamed, “I’m here, I love you, and I'm never letting go.”

When he pulled back, he stayed close, nose brushing yours and breathing you in like oxygen. Your family had laughed brightly, your friends cheering you on knowing how important his presence was to you.

Beyond your close circle of special people though, there was definitely a bigger crowd watching. Somebody gasping while you could hear squeals in the distance.

But Jongseob only rested his forehead against yours afterward, smiling so brightly you thought your chest might burst, eyes crinkling with sweet joy and relief.

"Hi," He whispered, just for you.

"Hi," you whispered back, laughing through fresh tears.

"Congratulations, baby. You did it."

"We did it." You touched his face gently, thumb brushing his cheekbone. "You helped me through so much from miles away. I couldn’t do this without you.”

"That’s what I’m here for.” He promised. "I’m yours. Always."

By the time photos hit social media that night, neither of you bothered hiding anymore.

Especially when every picture captured the same thing so clearly anyway: The way he looked at you like making it there was the most important milestone this year and the way you looked at him like he'd hung every star in the sky just for you.

💌 mika’s message! HAPPY GRAADDDD SEASSONNNN!!! everybody congratulate eni now. i’m proud of my girl ok? airing out her business lowk but idgaf. HEHEHEHEHE been a min since i wrote straight up fluff too. i’m ngl ive had this in the works since monday, i just got to work deadass during my shift in the fitting room so :P derp idk. ok bye ily.

James' birthday parties were always like this.

Not overwhelming, just full. 

The kind of gathering where everyone knew everyone through someone, the music was always good, and by a certain point in the night the living room stopped being a living room and felt more like a club. You'd been coming to these since you were seventeen, perks of being one of his best friends. You knew the layout of his apartment better than some of your own friends' places.

You'd arrived with Ryul and Isol, the three of you showing up together the way you usually did to things like this. Ryul had driven, Isol, who’d been chilling in the backseat, had complained about her shoes being too tight the whole time. You’d been in a good mood, touching up your makeup and fixing your hair before leaving the car.

You were in a better one now.

It was the dress. Specifically what the dress did, or didn't do, at the back.

You'd gotten the tattoo just under two weeks ago. 

Ryul had been there for the whole thing, considering the fact that he did it. So had Isol, sitting beside you, forearm steady under your hand when the needle hit a spot that made you want to be anywhere else, talking about nothing in particular to keep your mind moving. 

They’d both seen it at every stage since. Fresh and wrapped, then peeling, then finally settled into your skin the way it was always supposed to look.

Fine line work stretching from your lower left to your upper right. Two loosely sketched flowers connected by swirls that moved like they'd grown there. It was gorgeous and you knew it.

Tonight was the first time you were wearing it openly.

No cardigan or covered shirt. Just the backless-dress and the tattoo and the party, and every so often you'd catch someone's eyes drop to your back and come back up and you felt great about it.

Ryul had noticed your outfit the second you'd walked out of your room before leaving. Had looked at you for a long moment with that unreadable face of his and then said, simply, "yeah okay." Which from him was basically a standing ovation.

–--

The three of you had been near the kitchen for most of the night. Isol was telling a story about something that had happened at work, the tattoo parlour, hands moving, getting more animated by the minute. Ryul was leaning against the counter with his drink, listening with that quiet expression he wore when he was actually paying attention. You were beside him, half listening, eyes moving around the room the way they did when you were comfortable somewhere.

That was when you saw Ohyul.

He was across the room talking to a small group, relaxed and unhurried, laughing at something someone had said. You'd known he would probably be here. James was mutual to basically everyone in your extended circle. It wasn't surprising.

You looked for exactly a second and then looked away.

Isol had gotten to the punchline of her story, apparently some 16 year old french kid had come into the parlour, begging to get a huge sleeve done, and you laughed along, and Ryul made some dry comment that made all three of you go again, and the night kept moving.

–

The playlist shifted somewhere around eleven.

It happened gradually. 

Something with more bass crept in, the lighting felt lower even though nobody had touched it, and people started drifting toward the center of the living room in that slow inevitable way. The furniture had already been pushed to the edges.

With a little sway in thought, you decided. "I want to dance," you said to nobody in particular.

Isol pointed at her shoes with an expression that said everything. Ryul looked at you with the calm, unbothered face of someone who was exactly where he wanted to be and had no intention of moving.

"Have fun," he said, nodding toward the floor.

You handed him your drink and went.

–--

The song was good. The kind of song that made it easy to just move, to stop thinking about anything specific and let the music do what it was supposed to do. You found a space on the floor and settled into it, easy and unhurried, the room warm around you.

You weren't thinking about anything.

You weren't thinking about Ohyul, specifically, or where he was in the room, or whether he could see you from wherever he was standing.

Which is why you felt it before you understood it.

Hands.

Finding your hips from behind like they already knew where to go.

You didn't startle. Didn't turn around. Just felt the warmth of them settle there, broad and certain, thumbs pressing in slightly at the curve of your waist. Whoever it was moved with you, matching your rhythm so naturally that it took a moment to register that someone had joined it at all.

You knew who it was before you turned.

Something about the specific way his hands sat on you. Unhurried. Like he had decided and wasn't second guessing it.

Ohyul.

You let it happen. Kept moving. His hands stayed where they were, not pushing or pulling, just there. One thumb tracing a slow arc against your hip that you weren't sure he was even aware of. The music was loud enough that the rest of the room had dissolved into something ambient and irrelevant.

Across the room, Isol said something low to Ryul, a smirk on her lips.

Ryul looked over. Took in the full picture. Ohyul's hands, your back, the way neither of you were talking and said nothing. But anyone could see the proud grin on his lips as he lifted his drink to his mouth. 

Isol looked at him, expecting a better reaction. He looked back at her like he genuinely didn't.

On the floor you leaned back.

Just slightly. Just enough that your back met his chest, and you felt him exhale slow, felt his hands settle heavier at your hips in response. His head dipped down, close enough that you felt the breath of air against your neck before you heard him.

"I didn't know you had a back tattoo."

His voice was deep, sounding out right at your ear.

You turned your head just enough to look at him over your shoulder. He was already looking at you, close and unhurried, with eyes that weren't trying to hide a single thing.

"Just got it," you said.

He held your gaze. His thumb moved at your hip again, slow and absent.

"Yeah?" he said quietly.

You faced forward again. Kept moving. His hands stayed.

"How long ago?"

"Two weeks."

He hummed in approval. His head stayed dipped, close enough that you were acutely aware of every point of contact between you, his chest at your back, his hands at your hips, the warmth of his breath when he spoke.

"I can't really see it properly," he said. "Lighting in here is terrible."

You bit the inside of your cheek, trying to force away a smirk.

"Shame," you said.

A beat. His thumb stilled at your hip. You could feel him looking down at your back even now, the particular quality of attention that had been on you all night finally making complete sense.

"I'd like to though," he said. Unhurried. Completely unbothered about saying it. "See it properly."

You turned your head again, slower this time, and found him already watching you with that same open, unguarded expression. 

"Then let's go somewhere you can," you said quietly.

His hands shifted at your waist, eyes moving over your face once, something settling in them like a decision being made, and then the corner of his mouth curved up.

"Yeah," he said. "Okay."

you don’t even react, just snuggle deeper into the blanket,

he squints at you sleepily before deciding it’s literally 8am and his brain probably doesn’t work yet,

so instead he just wraps himself around you like a koala and goes back to lying there, enjoying his last bit of peace for the day

except, he doesn’t know yet

later, you’re both in the kitchen,

you’re making coffee while ohyul stands beside you looking genuinely lifeless, scrolling on his phone but not really seeing anything,

“why are you moving like a divorced father,” you ask,

“because i’m awake,”

“right, valid,” you laugh softly,

he immediately looks up,

there it is, that tiny smile like he won something,

he leans down instinctively, aiming for a quick kiss while you’re still smiling but you turn away at the exact same moment to grab your mug,

he freezes and there’s a small silence,

you continue stirring your drink and he slowly straightens back up,

“..okay,”

his brain is loading, because technicallyyyyy that could’ve been accidental?

probably accidental,

right?

he watches you for another second,

you don’t react at all,

so eventually he just goes back to scrolling, but now there’s a visible crease between his eyebrows..

an hour later, you’re sitting beside him on the couch showing him videos on your phone,

he’s distracted, laughing and relaxed again,

completely forgot about the weirdness from earlier,

until you show him one video that makes you laugh so hard you lean against his shoulder,

and immediately, automatically, he turns to kiss you,

except you suddenly look back down at your phone,

again.

missed.

his lips almost hit air and this time he just knows,

his eyes slowly lift from your phone to your face,

you’re still scrolling, completely normal, completely casual and completely unbothered?

meanwhile this man is internally buffering, because what the hell was that?

again.

he keeps staring for a second too long,

you glance up, “what?”

“..nothing,”

but now he’s confused, like genuinely confused, because you didn’t act awkward or annoyed,

or upset..

you’re literally acting normal, which somehow makes it worse?

the 3rd time happens so naturally he almost forgets to be suspicious,

you’re standing in front of the fridge deciding what snack to eat,

he walks up behind you, chin resting on your shoulder while peeking inside,

“we have no food,” he complains,

“there’s literally food right there,”

“ingredients are not food,”

you snort,

he grins a little at making you laugh again, then turns his head to kiss your cheek,

and you move at the exact wrong time again,

his lips hit the air beside your face,

silence.

he slowly pulls back,

“..nah,”

you grab a drink and close the fridge like nothing

happened,

oh he knows now..

100%,

because 3 times??

statistically impossible

he stands there staring at the back of your head like he’s trying to solve a murder case,

you walk past him casually and he turns slowly,

“..hello???”

you blink innocently, “hm?”

he just looks at you, trying to read your mind or something,

but internally???

this man is losing it.

the 4th time is what starts the overthinking,

because now he’s replaying every interaction from the past week in his head,

you’re both getting ready to leave the apartment when he holds the door open for you,

you smile at him while walking past,

cute, normal and sweet, just how he likes you the most,

so he naturally leans in again,

and you suddenly fix your sleeve at the exact moment.. missed.

again.

his smile drops for like half a second,

not dramatically but just enough and you almost feel bad..

almost,

because now he’s spiralling,

he follows behind you quietly, brain moving at 900km/h,

did he say something wrong recently?

wait??

was it when he ate your fries last week???

no because you said it was fine but what if it wasn’t fine??

or maybe when he forgot to reply for two hours yesterday???

was it the joke about your show being confusing???

he starts mentally drafting apology paragraphs over literally nothing,

meanwhile you’re just walking beside him normally like la la la!

and it’s making him completely spiral

by the 5th time he genuinely looks stressed,

you’re sitting beside each other again later that night, your legs over his lap while he scrolls through something on his phone,

everything feels normal,

which is why he finally thinks: okay maybe i imagined it, maybe i’m insane,

so when you look up at him while talking, he leans in again naturally without thinking too hard about it,

and you dodge him,

again.

this time he goes completely still and you keep talking for another two seconds before noticing he hasn’t responded,

“..ohyul?”

he blinks, then slowly lowers his phone,

“..okay wait,”

he sighs out like he’s been holding it in for days,

“did i do something?”

you bite your cheek immediately,

he looks genuinely concerned now,

“because i feel like every time i try to kiss you today, you avoid me..”

you try so hard not to laugh,

“what?”

“like actually,” he sits up straighter now, “am i crazy??”

“maybe?”

“no because it keeps happening,”

he looks deeply disturbed by this realization too,

“and the worst part is i can’t even tell if you’re doing it on purpose or if the universe just hates me specifically,”

you finally crack a smile,

his eyes narrow instantly,

“..wait,”

you look away, trying to bite back your smile,

“WAIT?!”

he grabs your ankle dramatically, “nah nah nah don’t do that,”

you’re already laughing,”

“YOU WERE DOING IT ON PURPOSE??”

you collapse against the couch giggling,

“i just wanted to see how long it would take you to notice!”

“NOTICE???” he looks genuinely offended, like actually offended, “i noticed hours ago, i just thought you secretly hated me now,”

you laugh harder,

he stares at you in disbelief for another second before immediately lunging forward,

“come here,”

“ohyul no-“

too late,

he grabs your face and attacks you with kisses instantly, dramatic and relentless while you squeal and try to shove him away,

“you’re evil,” kiss. “actually evil,” kiss. “i was this close to apologising for things i didn’t even do,”

“stoppp-“

“no because why was i sitting there reflecting on things that never even happened,”

you’re literally crying laughing at this point,

he finally pulls back just enough to glare at you,

“..you enjoyed watching me suffer,”

you grin, “a little,”

he gasps softly like he’s heartbroken, then immediately kisses you again anyway,

because in his defense,

he has some missed kisses to make up for

kim ryul

the first time it happens, ryul doesn’t think much of it,

you’re both still half asleep, tangled together in bed while he scrolls lazily through his phone with one eye open,

you shift beside him with a quiet groan, face pressed into his shoulder,

he smiles a little,

then tilts your chin up automatically to kiss you,

muscle memory, except right before he does, you suddenly bury your face into the blanket instead,

his lips hit the corner of the pillow,

there’s a pause,

“good morning to you too,” he mumbles sleepily,

you just hum innocently,

he snorts quietly and lets it go,

probably accidental,

whatever

the 2nd time though???

oh he notices immediately,

you’re in the kitchen making coffee while he stands behind you, one arm around your waist,

he’s talking about something stupid he saw online while you pretend to listen,

“and then the comments started fighting like it was the united nations-“

“mhm,”

“you’re not listening to me,”

“i am,”

“repeat what i said,”

“..something exploded,”

“close enough,”

he laughs softly, then leans down casually to kiss you-

and you turn your head at the exact same second to grab your mug,

silence..

his eyes narrow instantly, there’s no hesitation too because he catches on immediately,

slowly, he straightens up behind you,

“..what are you trynna do?” he chuckles,

you blink innocently, “what?”

“that,”

“what,”

“that little matrix dodge you just did,”

you fight so hard not to smile,

“i literally grabbed my coffee?”

he just hummed, squinting at you suspiciously,

“you think you’re slick,”

“you think too much

he just stares,

because absolutely not?

ain’t no way you’re avoiding his kisses

the 3rd time confirms it for him completely,

you’re both sitting on the couch, your legs thrown over his lap while he scrolls on his phone,

every few seconds he glances at you,

just watching and waiting,

you already know he’s suspicious,

then you laugh at something on your screen and look over at him,

he immediately leans in and you dodge again, except this time he reacts instantly,

one hand grabs your jaw gently before you can fully escape and he kisses you anyway,

properly too

slow enough that your brain short circuits for a second,

when he pulls back, he keeps his hand on your face, eyes narrowed slightly,

“stop doing that,”

you stare at him innocently, “doing what?”

“yn,”

he’s already trying not to laugh,

you bite the inside of your cheek,

“i genuinely don’t know what you mean,”

“you’re a liar,”

“prove it,”

his jaw literally drops a little, but his eyes are full of amusement,

“oh you wanna play games,”

the 4th time is where he’s fully over your nonsense,

you’re standing in the hallway fixing your shoes while he grabs his keys,

he walks over, one hand in his pocket, looking way too confident for someone about to get curved again,

then he tilts your chin up lightly,

“i dare you dodge now,”

you almost burst out laughing immediately,

“or what?”

“you’re sleeping outside tonight,”

“you wouldn’t survive without me,”

“true,” he says easily, “but i’d survive long enough to humble you,”

you grin,

he leans in slowly this time,

like he’s giving you a chance to reconsider your actions,

and still-

you turn away immediately,

silence

then,

“..okay,”

you barely get half a laugh out before he grabs your face with both hands,

“ryul WA-“

too late,

he kisses you relentlessly while you squeal, laughing so hard you can barely breathe while he keeps holding your face still,

“nah because now you’re annoying me,” kiss. “all day with this nonsense,” kiss. “acting like i don’t notice things,”

“stopp-“

“absolutely not,”

he keeps kissing you between words just to make you more dramatic about it,

then finally pulls back with the smuggest expression you’ve ever seen,

“..thought you were funny,”

“i am funny,”

“you’re not,”

you think that’s the end of it,

until later that night,

you’re both back on the couch again, your head resting against his shoulder while he scrolls through something on his phone,

everything feels normal now,

which is why you don’t think twice before tilting your head up to kiss him,

except right before your lips touch..

he turns away,

your lips hit his cheek,

you freeze and slowly look at him,

he’s still scrolling casually,

“..excuse me?”

he hums innocently,

you narrow your eyes immediately,

he looks over and the smirk on his face is evil,

“sucks huh?”

you gasp dramatically,

“oh you’re sick in the head,”

“really?” he tilts his head, “because earlier someone had me out here fighting for my life trying to kiss my own girlfriend,”

you try not to laugh,

but obviously fail immediately

and he notices too,

“yeah laugh now,”

you grab his face instantly, “come here,”

he leans back slightly, “nah,”

“ryul,”

“what? maybe i don’t wanna kiss you,”

“you are literally obsessed with kissing me,”

“not anymore,”

you grab his hoodie, trying to pull him closer while he keeps leaning away on purpose now just to be annoying,

“ryul i swear to god-“

he laughs quietly before finally giving in, one hand sliding around your waist while he kisses you properly this time,

when he pulls away, he taps your cheek lightly,

“don’t start battles you can’t win,”

you squint at him,

“..i could absolutely win,”

he smiles, “cute,”

then kisses you again because you’re finally done playing games

mlist ツ