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You knew he was not of legal age, but he also knew you were not of age to be working there. It bordered on mutual understanding and blackmail that each could use against the other. Yet, none of you acted, but decided to proceed as though everything was fine. Over time, some sort of partnership was built, almost close to some form of a relationship beyond acquaintances.

Somewhere between the insults you two hurled at one another, affection seeped into the cracks. It shone through glances across the space, the subtle way he would turn in his seat and stare down a man who happened to make you a little too uncomfortable. 

And then he stopped coming. 

There was no warning. Not even a text, though admittedly the two of you never texted but kept one another's numbers ‘just because.’ He did not even have the decency to leave a note. No, ‘hey, I’m not dead’ sticky note placed in his regular booth spot.

Now, after months, he sat slouched in the alleyway behind the bar – broken, bleeding, and looking weak under the faraway glow from fluorescent lights from the main street. 

All the words you had rehearsed, if you ever saw him again, got tangled in your throat. 

You should walk away. You should leave the asshole who strung you along and then disappeared bleeding in that alley. But that was something a person exactly like Baekjin would do, and you were not like him. 

You took a few steps forward towards him. He winced heavily as his right hand moved over his side, but he did not lift his gaze to see who had been approaching him. 

Baekjin already knew the sound of your footsteps. He had them memorized only a week after meeting you in the bar full of degenerate low-lives and illegal gamblers. He could pinpoint the exact shuffle of your sneakers as though it were a sound embedded in the front of his brain. 

“That’s rich,” You muttered with a sharp but low voice, “You disappear for weeks, with no warning, and now you show up here bleeding like a wounded animal. What happened? You get jumped by someone who actually fights back?” 

Baekjin’s head only lifted upon hearing your voice, and in the faint light, you could see a large bruise already starting to form on the side of his face, a cut lip, and multiple small scratches that bled faintly. 

“... Missed you too.” His response was short, and it appeared like it took everything in him to speak. His chest rose and fell with short, shallowed breathing. 

“What the hell are you doing here?” You asked, only now crouching down a pace away from him to assess the damage. 

“I didn’t…” His breath caught, and he groaned as he tried to adjust his position, “I didn’t know where else to go.” 

His words stunned you for a moment. Baekjin was never so forthright with what he thought. Conversations with him felt like a game of chess with a grandmaster. A move, a beat of silence, another move, and somehow, between all of that, he would gain the upper hand and tear down your protective stances. 

Yes, Baekjin approached conversations like he did fights. And you were never much for putting up with fights. 

Now, staring at his wounded body, you cursed under your breath. You knew what you had to do, but also understood that helping him would be a victory on the gameboard that was your rocky friendship… or whatever the hell this relationship could be called. 

You extended a hand out to him with a sigh of reluctance. He glanced at the hand, then at your face, and back at your hand with an unreadable expression. 

“You going to take my hand or not?” 

Baekjin hesitated, pride and ego making it hard to get the words he wanted to say out. He swallowed his pride like it hurt as much as his wounds, and reached for your hand. His clammy skin, cold from the night air and sweaty from whatever fight he had barely come out of, you gripped your hand harder. Using your other arm, you moved it to wrap around his side, paying mind to the wound he had there. 

His body gradually made its way up, and he leaned heavily against you, putting his arm around your shoulders. His breath hitched with each movement, and the spot between his eyebrows would scrunch at each movement. 

The two of you shuffled out of the alley, looking like a pair of drunken idiots stumbling home. 

Baekjin did not indicate protest as you both gradually made your way down the street to your nearby apartment. He was too beaten and exhausted to care as you led him up the stairs. They were creaky and run down, and the orange hue from the old lights flickered almost imperceptibly. 

It was a shit apartment complex, but considering you had been surviving off of what little money you could earn when not in school, it was a lot better than what could have been. Baekjin could barely focus, and his eyes fluttered shut constantly, like he was fighting off the heavy wave of wanting to pass out. He was heavier than you expected, despite his lean appearance. 

When you reached your door, you had to awkwardly lean him against the wall so you could fetch your keys from your purse. 

Guiding him inside and placing him on your couch, you moved to the bathroom where you kept your first aid kit. 

When you returned, he was slumped over, barely conscious as his adrenaline had faded. His head leaned back against the couch to stare at the ceiling with some imperceptible emotion. That was something he did that always annoyed you: his ability to conceal his emotions. You could never pin him down, and some part of that both intrigued and unsettled you. 

Upon hearing you come back, his half-lidded eyes flickered open. It almost looked like he was going to smirk, but it turned into a wince. 

“Don’t… tell anyone about this.” His hoarse voice managed to speak. You set the kit down on the coffee table that you also sat on in front of him. 

“What? You don’t want your union buddies to know that their leader was kicked to shit?” You took out some antiseptic as you began to clean the cuts on his knuckles. His hands were still cold from the weather, but steadily warming up. Baekjin did not answer and chose to stare at the wall instead. 

“Oh, I get it,” You spoke up after you finished with his hands and moved to his face, “You disappear for weeks and suddenly come back out of nowhere. Not because you care in the slightest, but because you need me to treat you like I am some kind of nurse.” The anger you had tried to conceal was leaking slightly, evident in your words.

Baekjin bristled, but you could not tell if it was because of what you said or if the antiseptic wipe against his temple stung too much. 

“You think I wanted to?” He retorted, “I had to disappear.” His teeth gritted as you worked. His eyes followed your movements, studying your face in the low light of the room. 

“And I didn’t come because I need a damn nurse.” 

“Then why did you come?” You asked. You applied a bandage to a large cut on his temple, making sure to pat the adhesive gently. He looked as though he did not want to answer. His hands gripped his knees tightly. 

“I need somewhere to lay low,” He admitted through clenched teeth, “Somewhere… others won’t find me. Somewhere safe. Is that good enough for you?” 

Something in your chest squeezed at his words. There was an underlying meaning there, as there always tended to be whenever Baekjin spoke. 

He felt safe with you. 

“Why don’t you want people to find you?” There was a moment of heavy silence before realization crossed your mind. You finished with his face wounds and placed your items on the table, clasping your hands in your lap. You still sat closely, enough for your knees to brush his. 

“This wasn’t just a fight, was it?” Your question hung in the air for several moments. 

Baekjin finally looked at you, really looked at you. Countless emotions flickered across his eyes, but when his face morphed into what could only be described as defeat, you were left stunned. Never had he given this much vulnerability. 

He sighed lowly, “No. No, it wasn’t just a fight. And from what you said, it doesn’t matter if my union guys knew, because they all saw anyway.” 

“I don’t understand.” You spoke. 

A bitter laugh escaped his lips, only to be replaced with a wince as his hands moved to cover his side. His fingers curled against the fabric of his shirt. 

“Of course you don’t. It’s over, all this shit I built.” Your eyes widened at his use of a curse. He had always been too composed, too elevated for that kind of vocabulary. 

He gestured vaguely to his battered body, “I’m out. Consider this my severance package.” 

You were left in complete confusion at his words. In all the time you had known him, learning what little you could between shots of whiskey and the sounds of billiard balls clanging against one another, the union had always been his greatest accomplishment. Of course, you had heard about them working in that dump of a bar, but you never thought of it as something that could just… end. 

“Let’s not talk about it right now,” Baekjin muttered. You glanced at his hurt side, understanding that it too had to be cleaned and treated like his other wounds. 

“Fine,” You conceded, “But I need to treat that wound.” You gestured to his side. 

He grunted, reluctantly agreeing. He shifted, slowly removing his jacket and grimacing as the stiff fabric caught against his wounds. Undoing the buttons of his shirt, he peeled it back, revealing the bruised and battered skin beneath. The light in the room flickered slightly, throwing shadows across his torso.

He sat there silently as you started to assess the damage, his eyes closed again. He was surprisingly compliant now, as though he had given up. 

You tried to ignore the growing tension that had been building since you met in the alleyway. It was something that had always been there, but was left unaddressed. Taking a dampened cloth from beside you, you begin at the wound on his side. It was a large bruise splattered across his side and ribs and was marred with small cuts. You glided the towel over the muscles there, hoping to clean the blood away. 

His breath hitched slightly when the damp cloth made contact, but he didn’t pull away. He just sat there, jaw tight, letting you work.  

Too close. The thought flickered through his mind as your fingers brushed his skin. This was dangerous—not the wound, not the fight, but this. The way you were touching him now, the way his body reacted to it despite everything.  

His fingers twitched against the couch cushion again, resisting the urge to grab your wrist. You calmly moved, aware that his tense emotions could make him more volatile than he already was.

“Hurry up,” He muttered, voice rougher than usual. You being there, touching him, was beginning to cloud his mind. 

“Do you want me to help or not?” You snapped. He looked you in the eyes and understood the frustration. His abrupt disappearance had been a little cruel, given the budding friendship that had been growing between you two. However, under the surface of it, there had been stronger feelings lingering. 

Baekjin held your gaze for a moment. You were right. He had left without warning. He was inconsiderate. He hurt you. 

But is that not what he has always done to the people around him? Was that not just simply him? 

Yet, something about it this time, how it hurt you, affected him more than he cared to admit. 

Seeing you now, focused and determined in front of him with your hands gently roaming his body and healing the physical blows he had gained, was also, in some inexplicable way, beginning to heal the wounds inside him that he had left untreated for years. 

Baekjin had been hit all his life, mentally and physically. The first blow had been being dumped at that orphanage, and every blow since had knocked him down further into some pit where the only way out was to fight back. 

You watched with bated breath as thoughts flashed across his eyes. The tension long left ignored was becoming impossible to ignore. 

He reached up with one hand, grasping the wrist of your hand that was dabbing disinfectant on his side, and halted your movements. 

“I didn’t want to disappear. I was just… scared.” He was uncharacteristically vulnerable. His grip on your wrist was neither tight nor loose, but enough as though to cement that you were there. He closed his eyes for a moment, his thumb absentmindedly brushing over your pulse point. 

“Scared of what?” You asked. 

His jaw clenched, the muscles working as he considered how much truth he wanted to share. He seemed torn between pushing you away and needing you closer. You could sense it now. Before, it had been a battle of wits to glean even a bit, but now his emotions seemed to pour from him like the blood from his wounds. 

“Of this. Everything I touch eventually becomes bruised.” 

“You could never hurt me.” Despite his disappearance, despite the initial rocky start to knowing him, this was a truth that always perplexed you. Even now, with the knowledge of things he had done, it remained a fact. 

His grip on your wrist tightened again, his eyes flashing as he took in your words. The truth was that he had never been able to hurt you—physically or emotionally. Even when he had tried to push you away, to act indifferent...  

He knew he should let go of you. He knew he didn’t deserve the faith you had in him. But he was selfish and could not stand the thought of letting go, even if it was for your sake. 

“You don’t know that,” He said lowly, “And I’m not willing to test it.” 

His thumb brushed the edge of your palm. I want to. God, I want to. But he pulled his hand away, settling back onto the couch with a pained grunt. 

“You deserve more than a bruised gangster bleeding on your couch.” 

“Ex-gangster, according to you.” Your response was sharp, quick, and every bit a reminder of how your conversations always seemed to go; poking at one another until there was a victor. 

He huffed a dry, humourless laugh, and his lips twitched upward despite the split skin on his lips. 

“Yeah. Ex-gangster. Ex-leader. Ex-everything.” He tilted his head back against the cushions, staring at the ceiling. “You could have let me bleed out in that alley. Why?” 

Your eyebrows crinkled together, “Because you’re worth it. Because despite everything, I’m still here.” 

His breath hitched, just barely, only once, before his face settled back into that stubborn, guarded expression as he looked back at you. But his eyes? His eyes betrayed him completely. 

For a moment, it looked like he was going to argue again, like he might attempt to push you away for the millionth time to prove his own point. 

But instead, hesitatingly, he reached for your hand again, threading his fingers through yours in a way that showed he was inexperienced with giving this form of affection. His thumb traced slow, uncertain circles against your skin. 

“I don’t get you.” He muttered, voice thick. I don’t deserve you. 

And then, he pulled. Nor harshly, not demanding, but with a sense of pleading. Your heart stuttered for a moment as he moved you from sitting on the coffee table to his lap, the feeling wholly unfamiliar. 

“What– what are you doing?” Your voice came out with half-alarm and half-stuttering confusion.

“Indulging in the one thing I still have.” Your back was flush against his chest as his arms moved to wrap around your waist. His face moved to the crease between your neck and shoulder as he breathed in the pineapple and coconut body wash you had used that morning. 

You stiffened slightly, surprised, unsure, but he did not let go. His grip tightened almost imperceptibly when you did not immediately pull away, his breath warm against your neck.  

“You smell like summer,” He muttered, the words half-muffled against your skin. “Like… something that wasn’t born in a back alley or a dive bar.” 

A pause. His fingers flexed against your waist—not pushing, not demanding.  

“...Tell me to stop,” He murmured, lips brushing your shoulder. The request was simple, easy enough in theory. But you had come to recognize that things with Baekjin were never easy, and you were more than alright with that. 

“No.” You answer, voice nothing but a breathless whisper. 

The word, so simple, barely more than a breath, was all the consent he needed.  

His hold on you tightened again, his arm wrapping more fully around your waist as he pulled you firmly against him. You could feel the steady thump of his heartbeat against your back; a little faster than usual, matching the one thrumming in your own chest.  

He was like an addict indulging in a long-missed vice, breathing you in like a man drowning. His face was still buried in your shoulder, lips ghosting along the curve of your neck.

Then, slowly, and so gently for a moment you did not recognize the feeling, he gave your neck a small kiss. The kiss was so soft, so light, it made something in your chest tighten.  

He lingered, lips still against your skin, as if he was memorizing the feel of you. His fingers traced small, idle circles against your stomach. It was the tender action of a man who had been starving for touch.  

After a moment, he exhaled, a shuddering release of breath, and pulled back enough to see your face.  His expression was a careful mix of desire and vulnerability, his eyes searching yours.

This was the dangerous part. Not the alleyway brawls, not the gang wars.  

This, you, were the thing that could actually ruin him. 

“Baekjin.” You spoke his name as a whisper, like a plea, but you were not sure what for. 

His gaze flicked down to your lips, then back up to your eyes, his brow furrowed just slightly in an expression that was both intense and pained. The air between you felt thick, heavy with a thousand unspoken things that had been building since the first night he came into your bar.  

His fingers moved up, skimming the edge of your jaw, his thumb brushing over your lower lip. It was a soft touch, but there was a hint of possessiveness in it, like he was trying to convince himself that he was not dreaming.  

Baekjin no longer hesitated. He leaned in, connecting his lips with yours. He was rough at first, desperate, as if he was trying to pour every unsaid word into it. Your hands landed on his chest, skin now warmed from the apartment heating. His heart thundered in his ribcage, and something about the frantic movement made you feel comforted in knowing he, too, was just as nervous as you. 

All the tension, all the pent-up frustration and the unaddressed attraction that had been building between you over the weeks culminated in that moment. His hands gripped your hips more firmly as he pulled you closer, his mouth slanting over yours with a hunger that was barely restrained. 

But then, impossibly so, his kiss softened. His hand cradled the back of your neck, fingers threading through your hair as he deepened the kiss with a slow, aching intensity. You can taste the faint remains of blood from his cut lip, could feel the unsteady exhale from his nose against your cheek, but it did not bother you. 

When the two of you pulled apart, just barely, his forehead rested against yours 

“I’m not a good person,” He whispered, “But for you… I could try.” 

“I don’t need you to be a good person. I just need you to stay.” You whispered, “Don’t disappear again.” 

His thumb continued to stroke your lip as he studied your face, his expression a mixture of pain and desire. But at your words, something in him seemed to crumble. He swallowed hard, his hand moving from your mouth to cup your chin. He was uncharacteristically gentle, almost desperate.  

“...I won’t,” He murmured, voice raw. “I won’t run away again.” His hand slid down to your hip, thumb stroking the exposed skin just above your jeans. 

Baekjin did not want to fight anymore. He was tired and simply wanted to exist. 

Exist in the space that was that shitty, dingy bar full of cigarette smoke, clattering pool balls, and your soft footsteps across the damp carpet; footsteps that he could decipher with his eyes closed. 

Exist in the space that was the four walls of your apartment, yellowed with age but warm with the presence of you. 

To stay with you. 

Chicken. 

He could really go for some fried chicken right now. 

He was brought out of his tired and food-fueled thoughts to the sound of the classroom going hush. Loud chatter from groups faded away as hushed murmurs took over the space. Baku’s eyes shifted from the windows to the front of the class. 

There, standing next to the teacher, were a boy and a girl. They wore the uniforms, pressed and ironed, which was much more care than most of the students put in. They were not from here, most definitely not from the country as a whole. He squinted at the guy. He was taller than the other, with clean-cut hair and a strong jawline. Lean, but still had some muscle. 

The girl, however, had Baku wondering if he had actually woken up that morning. He had to have still been dreaming. Surely. Why was her hair so silky? 

Why the hell was he thinking about her hair? Of all things?

He almost physically shook his head to get that thought out. 

“This is James and Y/N. They’re on exchange from Canada. Please, make them feel welcome while they are here.” The last sentence came out with a tone of exhaustion. It sounded more like a plea than a request. Given the nature of students in the school and the teacher’s inability to control them for the most part, it sounded almost like begging. 

The two did not introduce themselves. Just bowed slightly with blank looks on their faces. Baku glanced towards Sieun sitting at the front and almost giggled at the resemblance. Dead expressions and tense posture. Did Sieun have some long-lost family? Weird doppelgangers? 

The teacher held out his hand and gestured to the back of the classroom, “There are two open seats over there.” Baku glanced to the spots to his right. Two blank desks that had been unoccupied for the semester so far. 

The footsteps of James and Y/N came nearer, and the spot beside him was taken by Y/N. He forced himself to look forward. He could not afford to embarrass himself and have another situation for his friends to tease him. Gotak had yet to get over an incident where Baku was walking past a cute girl from school one evening as they walked out of an arcade. Baku had waved while looking at the girl, but failed to see the streetlight in front of him. 

He could still feel the phantom pain that had left a bruise for two weeks on his forehead. Gotak still brought that incident up, despite it happening over a year ago. 

It was hard to stay focused. He could smell her perfume, something citruisy mixed with what could only be described as a beach breeze. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see her taking notes diligently as the teacher rambled on. Even her supplies looked as organized as she did. Each pen, pencil, and highlighter was neatly arranged beside her notebook. Clean, expensive-looking. Her brother looked the same. 

What the hell were they doing at a school as shitty as Eunjang?

Baku had been hyper-focused on the meal in front of him. The cafeteria buzzed with noise as students ate and chatted. Beside him sat Gotak, while across was Juntae, Sieun, and Suho (the latter of which was still adjusting to his first year at Eunjang). He and Suho were shovelling mounds of rice into their mouths while the others looked on with judgment as they unintentionally moved in sync. 

Juntae took a sip of his drink and pushed up his glasses that had slipped. “Have you all seen the new students?” 

“The Canadian ones?” Suho mumbled through his chews. Some stray sauce had landed on his chin. Wordlessly, Sieun placed a napkin down in front of him. 

“Who else would he be talking about?” Gotak pointed his chopsticks at Suho before his eyes lit up with an idea, “Do you think they're like those stereotypical overly friendly Canadians?” 

Juntae shrugged, “Maybe.”

“Do you guys seriously believe that?” Sieun’s face was unimpressed as he looked at his friends. 

“Possibly,” Suho swallowed a piece of chicken, “Oh, do you think their accents are funny?” 

As if summoned by the group’s conversation, the cafeteria doors opened, and the twins walked in. Baku turned as he saw a few others looking, and his gaze instantly locked onto Y/N. Still, her brother’s and her faces were blank. It was smart. Eunjang was not the kind of school to show emotions when you are vulnerable, and all new students are vulnerable. They have not established themselves in a pecking order, and Baku wondered how they would handle it. 

There was a spark in their eyes, but the amusement was not on their face. It was as if they knew things others did not. One of his eyebrows twitched with anticipation. Was this not the first delinquent-riden school they had been in? 

Others in the cafeteria resumed their conversations after a few moments, allowing the space to go back to what it once was. Baku turned around, but saw Gotak looking at him with a knowing look. Baku did not understand what his friend was trying to convey, and instead chose to stare down his meal like it was an impossible math quiz. 

The scent of citrus and ocean washed over Baku as the twins passed by the group table and sat down at an empty one a few spaces away. They were now in his line of sight, and Baku squeezed his empty juice box as her eyes briefly locked with his. He was grateful it was empty, or else the juice would have shot straight out of the straw and into his face. 

That would be a moment more embarrassing than walking into a street light. Gotak would never let him live that down. 

Baku looked away first. His mind was both blank and running at incredible speeds. Heat spread from his face to his neck. Gotak nudged him slightly with that same funny look in his eyes. 

The moment was cut short when Baku spotted three guys moving towards the twins. He recognized them as a group that had a proclivity towards breaking the rules. His instincts urged him to diffuse the situation before it got bad, but a part of him was interested in how it would play out. 

He could always intervene if it got physical. 

“Uh,” Juntae spoke up, “Should we do something?” 

“Not yet,” Baku said. His voice was calm, but there was fire under it like a storm building above the clouds. When the other guys approached, mocking grins stretched across their faces, the twins looked unfazed. Baku’s fingers tapped against his tray to an unknown rhythm. 

He could not hear what they were saying, but he noticed the way Y/N’s head turned to the main boy as he spoke. Her right eyebrow raised slightly as she judgmentally looked them up and down. It was the first time Baku saw something other than disinterest on her face. 

They exchanged words back and forth. Whatever bait the guys were laying, the twins did not take it. Y/N got up from her chair with some trash in her hand and made a move to throw it away, but the main guy stepped in front of her. His hand reached out and pushed lightly against her shoulder, but she only stared blankly at him. 

He spoke again, but this time louder for others to hear, “I was just joking, baby. You should be appreciative when a man compliments you.” 

“I don’t see a man.” Her retort was quick and efficient, delivered with a kind of disinterest one would see in a child being forced to eat vegetables. Baku could hear Gotak and Juntae try and stifle laughs. 

A hush moved over the cafeteria. It always did when a fight was about to break out. The school acted as a colosseum, each vying for its own gladiator to win. 

“You bitch,” He stepped forward, “You talk mad shit for a foreigner.” Still, it looked as though his words were not bothering her. Y/N’s eyes surveyed him like a bug to squash. 

Baku shifted in his seat as he prepared to interfere. 

“And you talk mad shit for someone so short.” Her line came out like a shot and echoed amongst the students. Like a dam breaking, her words caused laughter to reverberate through the large room. Baku cracked a smile, entirely too amused at the situation but still on edge. 

One of the henchmen of the leader stepped forward, "Watch your mouth, new girl. You don't know who you’re talking to."

"You’re right. I don't know who I am talking to," She spoke, and it sounded like she had given up, but her next words destroyed that thought, "A cave troll, perhaps? Or maybe a daddy’s boy that was never told no as a child?"

Her brother, who had been sitting down and watching with a look ready to kill, cracked a small smile. 

Baku’s hands curled into fists as he tried even harder to hold back his grin. Gotak had a hand over his mouth to cover his obvious smile. Even Sieun’s lips twitched. The other boys, however, were clearly not liking this one bit. 

One of them took another step closer, looming over Y/N and clearly fuming now. "Is that really the attitude you have with guys who could snap you in half, new girl?"

Y/N spoke with a blank look on her face, “You look like you can’t even snap a pencil in half.” 

The boy huffed as his jaw twitched. Without responding, he moved his arm back like he was going to punch and stepped forward. However, as he stepped forward, he tripped and fell on the floor of the cafeteria. His face smacked the linoleum floor. To anyone else, it looked as though he slipped. Yet, if someone was skilled with fighting, they would have noticed the subtle movements Y/N made as she sent him tumbling to the ground with a swift kick to his foot. 

But Baku noticed. His eyes were wide, lips parted with surprise as the guy’s face smacked across the linoleum. The sound resonated across the space with a sharp slap-like noise.

The whole cafeteria burst out in laughter. 

“Yo! Walk much, loser?” Some voice shouted high amongst the laughter, causing another round of amusement. 

The guy managed to stand up, and his voice stuttered, “You... you tripped me! You did something with your foot!”

"I don’t know what you’re talking about." Her expression remained blank, but there was a glint of amusement in her eyes, "You seem to have hit your head too hard. It’s best to see the school nurse before any damage becomes permanent.” 

He clenched his hands into fists, and it was clear he was itching to just punch Y/N right there. But there were so many people around, it would be a bad idea, which was probably the only reason he didn't. Baku, however, leaned forward just in case he needed to intervene. 

The guys were assholes, but would they really punch a girl? 

One of the other guys placed a hand on his friend's shoulder. "Bro, just leave it. People are watching… and honestly, you did trip like an idiot."

Y/N sat back down next to her brother, who had been watching with a blank expression like he knew she could handle herself. The two went back to eating their food like nothing had happened. The three boys, ego’s bruised and emotions running hot, walked away with shame. 

Sensing a lack of fight, the other students quickly went back to their food, though slightly disappointed they could not have any entertainment. 

Baku was unable to take his eyes off Y/N, his thoughts racing and jaw slightly slack. Gotak was grinning from ear to ear beside him, a clear look of admiration on his face. Sieun, on the other hand, was back to his usual blank expression, though there was a hint of a small smile in his eyes as he chewed his food. 

Suho let out a low whistle, “Quick-witted, that one.” 

Baku hummed in agreement, his eyes still watching her, “Yeah, she is.”

The next day, Baku had been staring at his phone before class. He was mindlessly scrolling when the twins walked in. Word had already gotten around about the incident in the cafeteria, dubbing Y/N as ‘ice’ for how she handled the situation. Cheesy, but at least it was not anything horrible. 

Baku did not know how to feel about the situation. There was something about her – calm, sharp, and untouchable – that tugged at his curiosity. As more students came in, he worked up the courage to speak to her. 

“Hey.” His voice came out almost cracked, and he mentally cringed. “Do you ever plan on making someone face plant again… or was yesterday just a special occasion?” 

He said it like a joke, but there was an underlying curiosity. Baku was not sure about the twins yet. He did not want more people causing trouble at the school. They had only just achieved peace (as peaceful as the school can be) with the dissolution of the Union the year prior. 

Baku did not want to go through anything like that again. 

Y/N’s lip twitched slightly with amusement at his words, but quickly went back to a neutral expression. 

“No, I don’t plan on it. But who knows? My schedule is pretty open these days.” Her tone was teasing, and Baku felt a little relief at that. He leaned back in his seat. 

“We haven’t properly met yet. I'm Baku.” 

“Y/N.” She responded as though he did not know her name, as if the school had not already been talking about her and her brother, “Is this school always so… eager to fight?” 

Baku chuckled at her question, not at all surprised she had picked up on this. He crossed his arms over his chest, hands brushing the fabric of his jersey he wore under his blazer. 

“This school has always been like this. It used to be worse.” He watched as she bit her lip in thought, and something about that move was more attractive than it should be. His gaze remained on her, studying her face and the way she held herself. He could tell there was much more to her than the exterior she showed.

“I guess that’s something I’ll have to get used to.” She answered while she pulled out her supplies.

“You don’t look too bothered by it, though, and so does your brother. Most newcomers would’ve been running away already.” Baku pulled out his binder, but cringed when he remembered how messy it was inside. He, under zero circumstances, could not open it in front of her lest he have the pretty girl see mismatched loose papers scatter about the desk. 

“It’s not a bother when you can hold your own.” She answered just as the teacher walked into the class. 

His eyes flicked to her brother for a moment before returning to hers. He leaned forward slightly, lowering his voice.

“You and your brother wanna eat lunch with my friends and me?” It was bold to ask, but he decided to do so while he felt confident. 

She bit her lip again in thought before subtly nodding, “Yeah. That sounds good.” Baku grinned, a kind of giddy one that was lopsided and made even the noisiest of hallways feel quiet for a second. 

Baku spent the rest of the time leading up to lunch impatiently tapping his foot against the waxed floor. He was excited, but also nervous. While he loved his friends, they could be a lot to handle in a single dose.

When the bell finally rang, he stood first and slung his bag over one shoulder before turning to Y/N and James. 

“Hungry?”

Baku had walked to the cafeteria with the twins. They all got their food and headed towards the table he always sat at with the group. The moment the three walked in sight, Gotak’s grin was already wide as he leaned forward in his seat with his hands flat on the table. 

“Here they are. The mysterious twins from the land of maple syrup!” Gotak’s words earned a quick slap to the back of his head from Baku after he put his tray down. 

“Don’t be rude.” Baku scolded. 

“That’s fine,” James laughed as he placed his food down, “It’s better to be known for things that are harmless.” 

Baku sat in his usual spot with Gotak to his left. Except this time, Y/N sat on his right with James beside her. He tried to act nonchalant, but he was nervous that she chose to sit next to him. The group went around introducing themselves, patiently allowing the twins to absorb the information. 

Suho spoke first after the introductions, “So… you’re really from Canada?” 

“Yeah,” Y/N responded, “From the west coast.” 

They all nodded, listening intently. Suho in particular was clearly fascinated by even the smallest details; meanwhile, Juntae and Gotak were practically buzzing, trying to fight their grins. Sieun just watched as always, but his eyes flicked over their faces like he was seeing them in a whole new light. And Baku… well, he couldn’t seem to stop his gaze from drifting to Y/N again and again.

“Your accents are pretty light. It’s almost natural.” Juntae complimented with a nervous and low voice. 

“We’re well adapted at learning languages,” James explained as he ate. 

Gotak leaned forward with interest, “How many languages do you both know?” 

“Four,” Y/N answered casually, as if she was reading out the weather forecast, “Six if you count the others we are conversational in.” 

“What the fuck.” Suho’s face was stuck in a stunned expression, and for once, it looked like he had abandoned his food for the conversation. Sieun turned to his friend with a look of disapproval at his choice of words. Baku leaned back in his seat and folded his arms across his chest.

“How did you manage that? You’re both, what, 17?” 

“Hey,” Gotak interrupted, “Not everyone has the IQ of a monkey.” Baku raised his fist in a mock motion to fight, but cleared his throat loudly and hesitatingly lowered his arm. He did not want to lose his cool in front of her. 

“Shut up.” Baku hissed lowly at his friend, eyes moving towards Y/N to assess how embarrassing this situation was for him by trying to gauge a reaction. 

Y/N continued to speak as though she did not notice, “You’re never too young to learn life skills.” 

The mood of the table deflated almost instantly when the three boys from the previous day approached the table. Instead of squared shoulders and mischievous eyes, they looked intimidated to even approach. They avoided eye contact, choosing to look anywhere else. Baku’s body stiffened as he remembered how one almost struck Y/N yesterday. 

He could feel Gotak and Juntae’s mood shift in the seat next to him, and Suho and Sieun were clearly watching them with caution. But no one more so than James. They posed a threat to his sister. It was not lost on the guys at the table how his grip on his metal chopsticks tightened. 

“Uh… can I speak to you for a moment? In private…” The lead guy coughed awkwardly for a moment. 

Baku tensed even further without even realizing it, his hands curling into fists under the table. His gaze was locked on the leader, his thoughts running through all the possible scenarios. His instincts were screaming at him that this was a bad idea. 

He wasn’t the only one. Gotak and Juntae were both shifting in their seats, clearly on edge. Suho was watching with his sharp gaze, while James’s expression was unreadable. It was only Sieun who kept his cool, sitting motionless, though Baku could see the tenseness in his muscles.

“No,” Y/N answered, “Whatever you have to say, say it here.” She pushed around some food on her plate, conveying her trademark air of nonchalance. Her words were firm, laced with a tone of finality. 

The guy fiddled with his hands in front of him, nervously shifting his weight back and forth between his feet. Finally, he let out a loud sigh as though he had given up. 

“We want to apologize for our behaviour earlier. It was unacceptable.” 

“Hm,” She hummed as she placed her chopsticks down. Her eyes narrowed on them as she watched them fidget. Baku could almost see humour in her eyes. 

The air was tense. Each person at the table looked like they wished to say something. Gotak had a smug smile on his face, like he enjoyed seeing them squirm. Baku could relate. Those three guys had been menaces. Most of all, he admired Y/N strongly in that moment. Her calmness, her composure, her cool demeanour. It was like nothing or no one could faze her, and it only intrigued him even more.

“You gonna accept my apology?” The guy asked impatiently. 

“No,” She responded bluntly, “Picking fights with people is stupid, but picking a fight with someone you clearly cannot go up against is downright absurd.” 

The milk Suho had been taking a sip of spurted out of his mouth as he began coughing. Sien watched on with mild disgust while Juntae and Gotak had to cover their mouths. James only wore an amused smirk, pride shining in his eyes. 

The guy’s face was flushed red with embarrassment, but he did not argue. He nodded stiffly, muttering something about wasting his time and backing away with his crew trailing behind like kicked dogs. 

The moment they were out of earshot, Gotak reached across Baku with his hand forming a fist, “That was the funniest thing to happen all week.” 

Y/N reached out hesitatingly and bumped fists with him. 

Suho shifted excitedly in his seat, mouth full of rice he just shovelled down, “That was terrifying… and kind of hot.” Baku’s chest flared with something unknown as Suho spoke. 

James cringed in his seat, “Dude, maybe don’t flirt with my sister in front of me.” 

Y/N only giggled, unbothered, “Oh, cool it, James. I think it’s sweet.” 

Suho's face flushed, “I didn’t mean it like that!” 

She decided to keep teasing, “What? You don’t think I’m attractive?” She feigned a look of hurt as her eyes scanned over everyone at the table. They settled on Baku for a moment longer than the others before going back to Suho across from her with a serious face. The poor boy appeared as though he would combust. 

“No! I mean– yes! Wait, no. I mean, you’re obviously attractive but–” 

Y/N disrupted his chaotic rant by bursting out laughing. Gotak lost it shortly after, slapping the table. The others followed suit, and even the corners of Sieun’s lips lifted slightly.  

Baku? He just sat there, arms crossed, with a single eyebrow twitching as he glared at the ceiling and tried to get the memory of Suho complimenting Y/N out of his head. She caught his mood, however, and noticed the tension in his shoulders. 

 “Seriously, Suho,” She began, “You should have seen the look on your face.” Baku’s eye twitched again. It was not helping him that she had a wonderful laugh, or that her eyes sparkled extra when she was amused. 

“You’re a menace, you know that?” Baku finally spoke to her. 

She turned to him with a smile on her face, “I have to survive this school somehow.” She finished it off with a wink. 

A damn wink. 

If his chair did not have a back to it, Baku could swear he would have fallen back onto the floor in that moment. Y/N got up from her seat, tray now empty, and picked it up. 

“I’m going to study for the rest of lunch. See you guys soon.” She nodded to each of them in appreciation. Baku noticed her final sentence. Soon. She liked hanging out with them and wanted to see them again. 

When she left the cafeteria, James spoke up, “I give it a week.” The rest of the group turned to him with different levels of confused expressions. 

“A week for what?” Baku questioned. 

“It was a thing at our last school. Half the guys hated her because of her foul mouth, the other half were wrapped around her finger.” He shrugged as though it was normal, “I give it a week for the same thing to happen here.” 

Baku did not like the feeling of his heart sinking at that. He was a mix of impressed and unnerved at James’s words. 

“A real heartbreaker? She doesn't come across like it.” Gotak’s eyebrows were furrowed as he finished off his meal. 

“No. Yeah, guys asked her out, but she never dated.” James shook his head, “She was never interested.” 

Baku’s eyes narrowed a little as his mind processed this. Gotak and Suho were both listening in with rapt attention, while Sieun’s expression was more guarded, as always. Juntae just took a small sip from his strawberry milk. 

“So no boyfriend ever?” Suho asked. 

“Let's change the subject.” James acted as though talking about his sister’s love life was disgusting, but Baku noticed a tense glint in his eyes. The way his jaw tightened was familiar to Baku; it was the same thing he did when bracing for a fight. He did not push. No one at the table did. 

For a brief moment, Baku’s eyes drifted back to the cafeteria doors in thought. 

Whatever happened, it wasn’t only about her being untouchable. 

And for once in his life, he decided to wait and see.

A week had passed, and it seemed as though James’s prediction had come to fruition. 

Baku pretended it did not bother him when guys in the hallways would turn to vie for Y/N’s attention. He pretended that the constant competition for her to even look in their direction was nothing. 

He pretended as much as he could. 

But he was never good at that, and he tended to carry his heart on his sleeve despite putting on an act of strength. 

Currently, as the group all hung out in the sunlight of the outdoor basketball court, Baku was sprawled out on the ground with a basketball tucked between his arm at his side. His other arm supported the back of his head. Gotack sat beside him, pulling at weeds that had begun to sprawl out of a crack in the pavement. 

The rest, Juntae, Suho, Sieun, James, and Y/N, were sitting on the stone bleachers. James was telling some funny story about something that happened back home, but Baku was not listening. 

Instead, he noticed the way the sun cast a gold reflection across Y/N’s skin, and could not stop glancing at her. There was something different about her hair that day as well. 

Was it fluffier than usual? Did she style it? 

Baku also noticed the way her hair clip matched her uniform. It was cute. 

He sighed at his thoughts before noticing a figure at the end of the court. He sat up slightly to get a better look. The guy was tall, lean, but with some noticeable muscle, and a handsome face. Baku recognized him as a student in the advanced classes. The guy raised an arm and waved, and Baku’s eyes furrowed as he did not know if he was talking to him. 

“Hey, Minho!” Y/N shouted and shoved some of her things in her bag hurriedly, “I'll be right there!” 

Minho. 

Who the fuck was Minho? And how did Y/N know him? 

It was like someone had dropped ice down his back. His grip on the basketball tightened, and he noticed the quick glance Gotak sent his way. 

All eyes followed Y/N as she swung her bag over her shoulder, gave a small smile to James, who was suddenly wearing a very serious expression, and started walking toward the guy. That guy. 

But he was not just any guy. 

He was clean-cut. Had a confident stance. A senior from another class, all the allure of an older dude. Baku suddenly remembered how he knew him. One of the top students, but still no competition for Sieun. Minho was captain of the debate team… and according to rumours, never short on admirers. 

So what was he doing with her? Why was she giving him attention when she ignored everyone outside of the group? 

Baku did not move. But inside? Chaos. 

Gotak spoke up after a moment, “Um… since when does ‘Y/N doesn't date’ turn into ‘Y/N has plans with some random dude?’” 

James only sighed and took a sip of his energy drink, “She was placed in an upper-level class for history. Apparently, they’ve been paired together for a project.” 

Baku could feel his fingers digging into his basketball; the rubber felt hot under his grip. He said nothing as James continued talking. 

“It’s this big project. A whole joint essay, presentation, and final debate. They have a month, so it’s pretty intense.” James took a bite out of an apple, chewing casually as he wiped the juice from his chin. 

“Sounds like a lot of work,” Suho shrugged, “A lot of alone time.” Baku’s eyes narrowed at that insinuation. He basketball strained even further under his grip, and Gotak quickly swiped it from him before his strength popped it. 

Juntae, seemingly the only one other than Gotak, noticed Baku’s dampened spirit and spoke up. 

“But it’s school work. Not exactly a fun time.” He then turned to James, “I mean, you said it yourself, she doesn’t do that stuff.” 

“If anything, I feel bad for the dude,” James swallowed some apple, “She’s a pain in the ass when it comes to school work. Y/N’s a perfectionist by nature.” 

They all laughed. All except Baku, but he did feel a small piece of relief at that knowledge. He was still staring in the direction she had gone, jaw relaxed now, but still tense. 

That was how Baku stayed for the rest of the day, in a state of constant nervousness. He was never one for paying much attention in class, but today was even worse. His eyes would always drift to the window, where he would get wrapped up in fearful images his mind would conjure up. Y/N and Minho, sequestered away in a library. Y/N and Minho, laughing over some inside joke. 

Each one hit him like a punch, only this time, he was not sure he could tank the hits like he usually could. 

At the end of the day, as the group normally walked down the hill after school, Y/N veered off in the opposite direction. Baku and the others exchanged confused looks as they stopped walking and watched her walk away. 

“Uh, what?” Juntae’s small voice spoke first. 

“Is she going a different way home today?” Gotak asked, but was equally confused. They had made plans to hang out at her and James’s place for the night and spend the weekend together, as their parents were gone for a conference. 

Baku had a small frown on his face, “I'm going to check.” He broke into a slow jog until he finally caught up with her and slowed his pace to match hers. 

“You know you’re walking the wrong way?” He asked casually with his hands stuffed into his pockets. She did not miss a step and only tilted her head slightly to look at him for a moment. 

“I know.” A beat passed as wind brushed through the trees along the sidewalk. “I told Minho I’d meet up to work on that project. Some cafe a few streets over.” 

Baku felt a small pang in his chest, something unpleasant, like a sharp sting. He tried not to let it show, keeping his hands in his pockets and his tone light. 

“Oh? You guys plan on working long?” 

“Probably, yeah.” She answered, “I want to get a few sources analyzed and at least a running plan for arguments. That alone will probably take a few hours. I don’t know Minho’s work ethic yet, but I hear he’s studious. That better be true. There’s nothing worse than being partnered with an idiot.” 

His expression shifted, just slightly. A flicker of something unknown passed through his eyes. 

“Studious, huh? He’d better be smart enough to keep up with you.” He joked. 

He did not say what he was thinking: “But not too smart. Not too close.” 

Instead, he glanced back at his friends waiting for him. Juntae was waving dramatically like they were in a soap opera. Gotak shouted something about “love triangles” before Suho smacked him. Baku was grateful that Y/N did not appear to hear it, and also grateful for Suho hitting his friend to shut him up. 

Baku turned back to her, voice softer now. 

“See you later, then. Don’t forget about our dumbasses while you’re working.” The teasing lilt was still there. But beneath it? A thread of realness. 

This time, she noticed it. 

And for just a second, her smile wavered into something warmer, softer. 

Then, as if the movement was natural, she stepped forward, lifted her hand, and flicked his forehead hard enough to sting. 

“You really know nothing about girls. Idiot.” 

Y/N did not wait for a response, but simply walked off. Baku stood there, rubbing his forehead, smiling like an idiot. 

But his heart was still moving a mile a minute despite being stationary. There was something in that insult… a hint of affection, a glint of warmth. He could hear his friends’ laughter in the background as he tried, and failed, to wipe the grin from his face.

His heart did something funny, and his thoughts went something like:

“That damn girl.”

It had been hours with the group cooped up in James and Y/N’s apartment. Takeout boxes were strewn about the living room space as shouts of victory and anger spread amongst them. The TV was bright in the low light of a few lamps, and the city outside the window glowed. Suho and Gotak sat beside one another, each bumping the other’s shoulders and using a free hand to block their vision, controllers gripped like their lives depended on it, as they fought over second place in Mario Kart. 

Juntae sat on a pillow on the floor with his back to the couch, calmly in first place, playing Toad. Baku and James were in a fight for third place, while Sieun scribbled down equations, opting instead to have his notebook out for what he dubbed a ‘quick review’ despite doing that for over an hour. 

The front door opened suddenly, and the laughter of two voices echoed down the hallway. The living room was at the far end of the hall from the entrance, and if Baku leaned back on the couch, he could turn and look down the hall and at the door. When he did, he caught the sight ot Y/N and Minho. 

They were talking with an air of familiarity. 

Baku stopped paying attention to the go-kart match; his grip on the controller loosened. The rest of the group seemed to notice the commotion as well and turned to see the last of the conversation between Y/N and Minho. She waved goodbye and closed the door. The moment she turned around, all of the guys whipped their heads back at the screen to pretend they did not notice. 

Baku tried to act casual, but when she stood by the couch on the side he sat on, he could feel her eyes scan the side of his face before looking at the others. 

James was the first to speak, “How is the project going?” 

Y/N sighed loudly and put her backpack down. She plopped onto the open space on the couch next to Baku. Her scent invaded his senses. A soft, subtle mix of vanilla and fresh laundry, and god, something entirely unique to her. His hands tightened on the controller. He couldn’t help but glance her way, catching a glimpse of her dishevelled hair after a long day and the small bit of blush she had brushed onto her cheeks that morning. 

“Good,” She answered, “We got more than what I hoped to get done. My brain just hurts.” 

“Brain hurts? Not going to pass out on us now, are you? You've got to play a few rounds before then.” Suho joked as he swiped a gummy bear out of a bowl on the coffee table, threw it up into the air, and caught it in his mouth. 

“Wait, if you passed out mid-work, would Minho carry you home, like romantically?” Gotak raised his eyebrows up and down in a teasing manner, while subtly casting glances at Baku to gauge his friend’s reaction. Baku had a small frown on his face as he pictured it. Minho, with his stupidly perfect hair, picking her up in his stupid arms to stupidly carry her home. 

He wanted to punch something. 

He wanted to be the one to carry her home.

Y/N sighed dramatically and threw a plush pillow at Gotak’s head, striking him right in the face. He fell back from his spot on the floor while letting out a yelp of shock.

“He’s just a project partner. Not even my type.” She mumbled the last bit while crossing her arms. Baku had to bite the inside of his cheek to stop himself from smiling.

“Damn woman,” Gotak groaned as he rubbed his face and sat up, “You got a mean swing. Never mind what I said, the poor guy would have to deal with your mood swings.” 

“I’ll throw another damn pillow,” Y/N warned as she held one up, “And I’ll have you know, I’m a great catch.” 

James scoffed and put his controller down, “That doesn't count if you never date, sis.” Baku’s ears perked up slightly. When the topic of Y/N’s dating history came up that day in the cafeteria, James brushed over the question of whether she had a boyfriend before. It had been bothering him for a long time, not knowing an answer. 

It seemed that despite constantly teasing him, Gotak had his back and leaned in. 

“Wait, you seriously haven’t dated anyone before?” He asked. 

“I have,” She answered, but there was a far-off look in her eyes, “Back home.” Baku shifted slightly. He wanted – no, needed – to know everything. 

Juntae, ever the hopeless romantic, perked up in his spot, “You’ve been keeping secrets. Who was he? What happened? How long were you together? Oh! What kind of dates did you go on?” 

Y/N abruptly stood up from the couch. Her hands at her sides shook a little with some unseen muscle memory. 

“It’s late, and I’ve had a long day. I’m heading to bed.” She changed the subject quickly, waved at them, and walked down the hallway towards her room. The sound of her bedroom door opening and closing echoed behind her. 

Baku was itching even more with his own questions. 

James, sensing the tension, chose to speak up, “She doesn’t like talking about her past relationship. Just… leave it alone.” The others nodded and muttered agreements, but Baku did not say a word. 

He sat there, fingers still wrapped around the controller, eyes fixed on the hallway where she disappeared. 

Past relationship. 

Pain in her voice. 

That look in her and James’ eyes. 

He was not entirely stupid. While Baku’s skills in a classroom were lacking, he was exceptionally good at reading people. He was well-versed in understanding people, knowing what made them tick, and, most of all, he knew about fight-or-flight reactions. 

He felt… protective. Of course, he was; he always had that feeling for those close to him. But this time it felt different, more real. Baku found himself feeling furious at whatever or whoever had made Y/N flinch like that with only a memory. 

After a long pause, he finally leaned back and tossed the controller onto the couch beside him. 

“Yeah, we’ll leave it.” 

The group stayed up a little longer watching a movie before they gradually all fell asleep in their sleeping bags. Baku, while usually a heavy sleeper, struggled that night. His eyes kept drifting to the hall, where her room was. For a good portion of the night, he noticed a faint light from under the door. Did Y/N have issues sleeping? 

A part of him wanted to get up and go over to her door. Would she want to talk? He had shifted back and forth in his sleeping bag, listening to the sound of Gotak and Suho's joint snoring. 

Eventually, though, he was able to drift off into sleep.

Baku woke up to the faint sound of shuffling in the kitchen in the room over. He glanced around to see the guys all still sleeping. Gotak had shifted in his sleep, with one of his legs now resting across Juntae, who clung to a giant pillow and drooled slightly. Sieun slept oddly straight, not moving an inch with his arms at his sides. Suho, who slept beside him, had contorted in a weird position, with his back twisted and limbs stretched out. James had his sleeping bag tucked up to his chin, sleeping peacefully.

Baku sat up and lazily shuffled out of his bag. He rubbed his eyes as he walked towards the door leading to the kitchen. The kitchen was dim, lit only by warm orange lights from under the cabinets and the faint morning light seeping in from the windows. The sun was only just starting to rise. 

In the midst of it all, Y/N shuffled back and forth from the fridge to the counter. She was clad in pink plaid pyjama pants and a matching pink spaghetti strap top. 

He almost tripped at the sight. 

Holy shit. 

Baku leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed over his broad chest, watching her move with quiet precision; chopping vegetables and cracking eggs one-handed like she had done it a thousand times before. 

She did not hear him at first. 

And he did not speak. 

He simply watched. 

The way her hair fell over one of her shoulders and shifted with every movement. The curve of her spine beneath the tank top. The focused line of her lips as she bit down on them slightly while whisking eggs in a bowl. 

She looked peaceful there, softer than she did at school. 

Not untouchable. Just real. 

Without looking up from her work, she spoke, “You’re staring.” 

“Maybe I’m just waiting for breakfast.” He replied as he stepped inside fully and closed the door behind him. 

She glanced at him briefly before pouring egg mix into a hot pan. It sizzled softly between them as their silence had earlier that night, the kind full of unspoken things.

“Are you going to stand there or help?” She asked as she put another pan on the stove top and began to heat the element. 

It took him a minute to realize she had said something at all. He had been too busy getting lost in the sight of her; the quiet way she moved that seemed like a dance, the focused concentration, the smell of her perfume… 

He shook himself from those thoughts. 

“Well, what are you making?” 

“A little bit of everything. I don’t know what the guys will want, so it’s best to go with some variety.” She grabbed another cutting board and pulled out a few containers of different fruit. “Would you mind cutting up some fruit? The knives should be over there.” She pointed to where they were while handling the eggs. 

Baku nodded and went to grab a knife. His eyes glanced at a hung-up frame with writing on it. His head tilted slightly as he took in the foreign letters. 

He knew some English, at least the alphabet, and tried to sound out the letters. 

Y/N instantly began to laugh and turned to face him, “What are you doing?” 

“Reading that.” He pointed to the sign, “See? I know a little English.” He smiled proudly at her, but she only gave him an amused look. 

“That's not English.” She told him. 

His eyes widened, “What?” 

“That's French.” She giggled as she scrambled the eggs. Baku leaned against the counter and began to chop the fruit. 

“You know French?” He could have sworn he saw a small smile tug at the corner of her lips. 

“Oui.” She responded, “J’ai appris le français dès mon plus jeune âge.” (Yes. I learned French at an early age.) 

Baku had no idea what she said, but his stomach fluttered at the music-like notes that left her mouth. He almost lost control of the knife and was thankful he did not make a fool of himself in front of her. Her voice had been softer, more fluid… like water running over stones in a brook. 

He did not understand a word. But he felt it. 

And damn it did something to him. 

Finally, he shook himself slightly and got back to work. 

“Alright, alright. No need to flex with fancy language skills.” He teased. There must have been something about that morning that caused her to be more open than usual, as she had laughed more than she ever had with him. 

Hearing her laugh again, watching her laugh again, he had to fight the sudden urge to do something stupid. Something like wrap his arms around her waist from behind, press his chin into her shoulder, and just—

You fucking idiot. Pull yourself together. 

Instead, he chose to continue their conversation. 

“Say something else.” He was pushing now. He knew it. But he wanted to hear more of those beautiful notes. 

Y/N paused for a moment, seemingly deep in thought. Her eyes turned away from him and back onto the stove top as though she could not speak and face him at the same time. 

“Hier, quand je t'ai frappé à la tête, je voulais t'embrasser à la place.” (Yesterday, when I hit you on the head, I wanted to kiss you instead.) 

There was something quiet about the way she said those words that hit him. The knife in his hand stopped mid-cut of a strawberry.

Baku froze. 

Not because of the words, because he did not understand them. 

But because of the tone. 

Because her voice had dipped low, almost playful… like she was sharing a secret with someone who was not meant to hear. 

 Before he could think of something to respond with, Y/N perked up like she remembered something. 

“Oh! I know we all planned to spend the day as a group, but I made plans to meet up with Minho to continue working on the project. So, I’ll be out for a few hours.” She had begun to work on other dishes. 

Just like that, Baku’s mood deflated. It was like a child watching their balloon float away. Heartbreaking, and something wanted just out of reach and got away. Slipped from his hands… 

All warmth drained from him, and he felt his jaw tighten. The casual mention of Minho, like it was normal, hit him harder than he wanted to admit. The thought of Minho spending time with his girl– 

What the fuck. 

His girl? 

He could have groaned out loud because of his thoughts. He almost laughed at himself. Baku had no right, nor reason, to think that way. 

“You gonna ditch us for your project partner again?” He tried to sound teasing, but there was an edge underneath. 

If she heard it, she made no acknowledgement of it. 

They simply moved on and continued to get the food ready as time passed. By the end, the table was loaded with different dishes, and the scent inside the kitchen was nearly irresistible. 

Baku stood there, arms still crossed, and watched her move around the table with such calm control. The way she set everything down like it was second nature, like she was used to feeding people and taking care of them.

And he thought of what she said in French. 

About how it had wrapped around his chest despite not knowing what she meant. 

“You didn’t tell me what you said,” Baku spoke softly. She stood next to him and glanced up at his face. 

Her eyes met his, and something passed between them. 

Something slow and heavy and bright all at once. 

She stared for a moment before lifting her hand and flicking his forehead like she did the day before. 

“Mon idiot.” (My idiot.) She said and moved towards the door to wake up the guys so they could eat. 

Again, he did not get it, but the words still wrapped around his heart. 

He raised a hand to his forehead, almost massaging the spot where she flicked. A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips. The words were lost on him, but just like earlier, the tone was clear. It sounded affectionate. It had to have been. 

And damn if that did not make him want to– 

No. 

He crossed his arms and decided to distract himself by finding glasses for the table. A few minutes of struggle and some unwilling groans of sleepy teenagers, and the group were sitting around the dining table. 

Gotak was the first to taste her cooking, and he closed his eyes as he chewed. “Oh my god, this is so good.”

The table fell into a rare moment of silence. Only the sound of chewing, satisfied groans, and Juntae dramatically clutching his chest like he had been struck by Cupid himself. 

“I think I just died. This is heaven.” Juntae’s glasses had slid slightly down his nose, but he was too distracted by munching on his food to notice.

Suho nodded in agreement, “I can’t ever eat anyone else’s food again.” 

Even Sieun took a second bite without saying anything, but Baku noticed his eyes slightly widen with approval. 

Sieun’s voice came out in his regular, calm tone, “This is really good.” 

All eyes were focused on their food, but Baku only looked at Y/N. She sat in her chair across from him, smiling softly and sipping on her juice casually as if she was not being worshipped in that moment. He noticed everything about her then: how she tucked her hair behind her ear when someone complimented her, the quiet satisfaction on her face as they scarfed down the food like hungry wolves, and how warm she looked at the prospect. 

Baku almost choked when he took his first bite of a piece of egg on toast. It was all rich, perfectly sweet with a hint of saltiness. The egg mix was soft and fluffy, with just the right amount of crunch from the syrupy bread. 

He was gone. He was officially part of her cult. 

Conversation came easily amongst the group as they each had their fill until there was not a scrap left on the table. Afterwards, the guys scrambled around the kitchen to clean up. Since Y/N made the food, they insisted on cleaning up. 

She did not argue and instead went to her room to change, eventually returning with a cute but comfortable outfit.

Baku stood at the sink with a sponge in hand, sleeves rolled up to his elbows and water dripping down his forearms. He watched from the corner of his eye as she returned, dressed for casual comfort but still somehow breathtaking. A fitted sweater hugged her frame, and jeans hugged the rest. 

Y/N slung her bag over one shoulder like she was only stepping out to run an errand. 

But it was not an errand. 

It was to see him. 

Baku tried not to grit his teeth as he scrubbed harder than necessary against a plate. Gotak, who stood next to him and had been putting things away, leaned in and whispered. 

“You good, man?” 

“Fine.” He did not glance at his friend as he spoke in a clipped tone. Gotak raised an eyebrow, but chose not to push it. 

“Alright,” Y/N announced, “I’ll be out for the day to work on the project. Don’t set the house on fire while I’m gone.” 

Baku kept scrubbing at the dish in front of him. He said nothing in reply. He most definitely could not look at her right then, or he would give himself away. 

“No promises!” Suho spoke as he attempted to juggle some glasses as a joke, but almost dropped them. 

Y/N stared him down in warning for a moment, sighed, and then walked to the front door to leave. Baku stood frozen at the sink until the soft click of the lock echoed through the space. That was when he turned, and his eyes locked onto the closed door. 

She was gone. Again. For hours. With someone else. 

And not just anyone. 

With Minho. The perfect, smart, responsible Minho who likely did not scorch pans when cooking, crack a joke during serious moments, or often came home with bloodied knuckles and frustration. 

Minho was the guy who made sense for a girl like her. 

And Baku? 

He was loud. He fought in alleys and basketball courts like they were war zones. He smiled too much and made impulsive decisions. He was not careful with anything except protecting what was his. 

But Y/N… she was not his to protect. 

“So… are you going to stare at the door and mope all day?” Gotak whispered to his friend. By then, everyone else except him, Gotak, and James had left the kitchen. The others were already in the living room, arguing over who got the first controller. 

Baku only grabbed the next utensil to clean. “I don’t know what you mean.” Gotak only raised his arms in surrender and left the room to join in on the game that was starting. 

James, who had been putting away a stack of plates, scoffed, “That’s a lie.” 

Baku froze mid cleaning of a chopstick. Did James know? He refused to look up. He kept scrubbing the chopstick like it had done something wrong. But inside? Heart racing. Pulse quickening. 

Baku knew then that he was not as hidden as he thought. 

Slowly, he set the chopstick down, dried his hands on a towel, and finally turned to face him with his arms crossed and jaw tight with nerves. 

“You got something to say?” He was challenging, defiant. But inside? Vulnerable. Scared of what James had to say. 

James studied him for a long moment, cold at first and protective of his sister, but then something shifted. His eyes softened. Not in approval. Not yet. But understanding. 

“She doesn’t date.” He said it slowly, like Baku needed to hear each syllable, “Not anymore. If you’re thinking what I think you are… be careful.” James was no stranger to Baku’s reputation. Yes, the basketball captain had a track record of ending fights and protecting people, but a fight was still a fight regardless of the motivation. 

“I know how to protect people,” Baku responded. 

“I know that,” James said, “But she doesn’t.” His tone gave off the impression that the conversation was over, but it did not sound entirely like a warning. 

Not quite. 

More like an opening. 

A crack in the wall around Y/N, something only someone who had seen her fall apart would know how to read. 

Baku was not stupid. He knew pain when he saw it. 

He lived it; grew up with fists and fire and silence where love should have been. So when he looked at Y/N and caught those flickers of pain, something broken deep beneath the surface, beneath the sarcasm and sharp comebacks – it called to him. 

And now James was telling him in everything but the actual words: she does not know what you are capable of. She does not know you that well yet. 

He exhaled slowly and rolled his shoulders back. It was the kind of movement that came before stepping into battle. Only this time, he was not going to physically fight. 

“Then I’ll make sure she knows.” No smirk this time. No playful tone buried under bravado. Just a promise. 

James sized him up for a moment before sighing as though he had only been testing the waters that whole time. 

“I can’t tell you everything. That’s her story to tell. But know that the last guy she was with,” James bit his lip as though that could stop him from speaking, “That guy was a total piece of shit. That’s as much as I can say.” 

James then moved to the door to join the guys in the living room, but spoke one last time, “Be careful and patient with her.” 

Baku stood there for a moment after James left to process all that had been said. It was not much, but he could see the pain behind them. He witnessed it; how she would occasionally retreat into herself like a wounded animal hiding from the world. 

She was strong; that much was obvious. But she was also equally as fragile. And he understood that now. He understood that they had that in common. 

Careful and patient. 

He could do that.

Time passed like this. Baku took James’s words to heart. He was patient; he did not push. He spoke with silent gestures – opening the door, pulling out a chair, bringing her cans of her favourite energy drink, sharpening her pencils during cram sessions when she was caught up in a world of her own, anything and everything. He would talk less when they hung out in groups, always holding space for when Y/N wanted to speak. 

Baku pretended none of it hurt. 

Pretended like it did not hurt when he sat by her, and his hand burned to hold hers. 

Pretended it did not hurt when other guys looked at her. 

He feigned ignorance like he was not being stabbed in the chest each time she cut her time with the group short to work on her class project with Minho. 

The days blurred together. Classes, basketball practice, laughter in the hallways, but always, always, his eyes found her. 

And always… she was slipping away. 

To him. 

Minho. 

That smug-faced, debate-winning, probably perfect in every way bastard. 

Baku did not sleep well anymore. Each time he fell asleep was a gamble. He would either have sweet dreams of Y/N or nightmares or her leaving to work on the project and never coming back. 

Every time she laughed with someone else? His chest burned. 

Every time she leaned into a conversation with someone else? His fingers itched to pull her back into his space. 

But most of all? The thing that killed him the most? 

Each time she left with Minho. 

“It’s just schoolwork,” Gotak would reassure him whenever they practiced on the court, “Nothing serious.” But Baku was not stupid. 

Love was not always loud. 

Sometimes it was quiet things: long hours together, shared focus in dimly lit libraries, whispers over notebooks, and tired smiles across a table late at night that say ‘we should go’ but never doing so. 

It was not just the hurt that gnawed at him now. It was fear. Fear that one day soon, she would look at Minho like Baku wished she would look at him. 

Baku tried to keep the jealousy contained. He really did, but it all came to a head one day. 

The project was over. Y/N and Minho had their presentation and did the debate (of which they won). There was no reason to be near him anymore, and Baku had never felt more relieved. 

Yet, on one sunny day as the group hung out on the bleachers by the basketball court, Baku saw Minho standing at the edge of the court with a bouquet of flowers. Expensive-looking ones. 

The world stopped. 

That is what it felt like. 

He stood at the edge of that court like he belonged there, like it was his place now. White lilies, red roses, soft petals that caught the sunlight like they were made for moments like this. 

And Y/N stood up. 

Without saying anything to the group, she walked towards Minho with that quiet grace she always had. Her eyes were unreadable until she reached him and took the flowers with both hands. 

A pause. 

A smile? 

Not big, not wild, but real enough to slice through Baku’s ribs and twist deep inside his chest. His friends sat silently, all watching it now. Each had caught on to the situation over time. Baku wore his heart on his sleeve; it was obvious. Now, they watched it be crushed and had no idea how to comfort. 

“Fuck.” Gotak muttered under his breath. 

Baku stood abruptly, knocking over his water bottle without caring. He did not look at anyone as he passed through them on his way down from the bleachers—he just moved fast, fists clenched at his sides so tight they trembled slightly beneath loose sleeves.

He could not watch as Y/N held flowers from someone else. 

So he walked. 

He walked, not towards home, but nowhere specific. Just away. As far as he could get before all that fire inside finally exploded. Before anyone saw how badly it hurt. 

But it never came. No explosion, no eruption. The fire sizzled away as though doused by a bucket of water. All that remained was defeat. 

Baku had not been keeping track of how many hours passed as he wandered aimlessly around the city. The sun dipped lower, painting the sky in a warm orange and soft purple. The park he had ended up in was empty. Only Baku and the echoes of children’s laughter from distant memories. He sat on one of the swings with his hands gripping the cold chains tightly as his feet dragged through the dirt below. 

Was she with Minho in that moment? Did he ask her out? Was she happy about it? Would he be good to her? 

He did not want to think about it, but that was all he could do. 

Every laugh she had shared with Minho over books and papers, every time she left their group early for him, even that small smile when accepting those damn flowers. It added up. And Baku was no idiot. He knew what this felt like. It was not only jealousy. 

This was heartbreak sitting quietly in his chest, big, heavy, suffocating. And he hated it. Hated how weak it made him feel. He was supposed to be strong, the protector of Eunjang High. 

But right now? One girl had knocked him completely off balance without even realizing it. 

His hands tightened around the chains until they ached. 

Then… a sound. Soft footsteps on the gravel path as someone approached. 

“Gotak said you’d be here.” It was Y/N’s voice, but Baku could not bring himself to turn to her. She moved gently and sat down in the swing beside him, chains creaking softly at the movement. 

There was only silence. Not empty or awkward. Just full. Like the air between them had soaked up every unsaid word, every heartbeat, every moment they had danced around each other since that first day in class. 

Baku’s hands gripped the cold metal like if he let go, he would break apart right there on this playground meant for kids too young to know pain like this. 

Y/N did not push anything. She just sat beside him, swinging gently back and forth while her sneakers dug at the sand below. 

“I didn’t take them.” Her voice came out as a whisper, yet still loud in the silence of the space. His fingers twitched on the chains. 

“He gave me flowers… but I told him I don’t want them.” This caught his attention, a flicker in his eyes that was enough to show he was listening. 

His voice, hoarse from not being used for hours, responded, “Why?” 

She let out a breathless laugh. Not mocking, but not amused either. Only tired. 

“You really are an idiot.” Her words and her laugh hit him harder than he had anticipated. Not because they were cruel or filled with joy, but because they were true. 

Baku was an idiot when it came to this. He was quick with everything, impulsive, reckless, but slow with feelings. With love. He bit back his pride and turned to look at her in the fading light. 

“Why didn’t you take the flowers then?” 

“He doesn’t make me feel safe like someone else does.” She spoke softly, “Not as safe as I feel with you.” 

The words slammed into him, eliciting every feeling he could have. He turned slowly on the swing, sneakers scraping against packed earth as he faced her fully now. The last light of sunset painted one side of her face gold. Soft, real, and closer than she had ever let herself be before. 

“You feel safe with me?” A part of him felt like he did not hear her right, like something had been lost in translation, and she did not mean the words she just said. Y/N kept staring forward as the wind brushed through her hair, and for once, it felt like time slowed down just for them. 

“Because I know what kind of person you are. You fight when most run. You stay when everyone leaves. You bleed yourself dry for others and never expect repayment. And… you don’t put your hands on me unless I do it first, even though I see how badly you want to.” 

Each sentence, its gentleness, landed like a feather but carried the weight of mountains. His chest tightened painfully. 

She was not just talking about safety… 

She was talking about trust. 

About how she saw him. All of him. The rage, the loyalty, the pain, the quiet way he guarded people despite being the loudest in the school. 

And somehow, without saying it outright, she told him a simple truth: “You are not like him. You are nothing like the guy who broke me.”

His fingers uncurled from the chains, knuckles white with little blood flow. Something cracked inside, not broken, but open now. He wanted to reach for her so badly right then and there. Pull her close and never let go. 

“I may not be the best with words, but you never have to worry about feeling safe with me.” His voice cracked, low, rough like gravel under wheels. She simply smiled, and all that turmoil inside him vanished in a second. 

“I know. That’s why I came here. I don’t want flowers from anyone but you.” 

Baku’s breath caught in his throat. For a moment, the world stopped. The swing set did not creak. The wind did not move. Even the fading light paused, like it too was holding a breath. 

His eyes searched hers in the dimming light. Searching for truth, and there it was. No games. No hesitation hidden behind jokes or sarcasm, or projects and excuses to leave early. Just her. Honest on this broken playground full of childhood memories and silent pain, choosing him. 

“I don’t have flowers,” He spoke before he stood up slowly from the swing. Baku reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out something new. 

Not flowers. No ribboned bouquets or soft petals meant to impress her. 

It was a small paper crane, one that was folded neatly from an old math test. It was crumpled slightly, but made nonetheless. 

It was from weeks ago. 

Back when she first sat next to him in class. When no one spoke, and silence felt heavy with things unsaid. It was so late that night when he folded it without knowing why. 

Like his hands remembered something before his heart did. 

Now, he pressed it gently into her palm and closed her fingers around it with both of his own warm hands. 

“I can’t give you much, but I will always be there. No matter what.” 

She looked down at the little crane nestled in her hand and then back up at him with eyes glassy under the sky’s last glow. For once, he did not hide how much she meant. How much she would always mean to him. 

“Next time someone tries giving you flowers, you can tell them you already have someone.” His words were confident, but inside, he was shaking. 

“That’s bold,” Y/N said with an air of ease, “At least take me out first. I have standards, you know.” 

Baku snorted at that, glad to be back to the feeling of comfort he only ever had with her. Like he could speak his mind and know he was alright to do so.  He leaned against the frame of the swing set and crossed his arms. 

“Yes, you have standards. I’m glad you recognize that I am out of your league.” 

She laughed that time, the kind of laugh that was unexpected and uncontrolled, and gave him a mock glare. Baku swore to himself that he would do anything to make that happen again, to see her augh and glare from behind lashes dusted with golden light. 

“I’m not convinced.” She challenged. 

Baku pushed off the metal and held his hand out. Y/N took it instantly, sure of the gentleness that would meet her skin despite the callouses. He pulled her up from the seat and made his way to the exit gate. 

“Where are we going?” She asked. 

“I’m taking you out.” His tone was as if it were obvious. 

That was how they found themselves half an hour later, sitting at a small, beat-up table in a hole-in-the-wall noodle spot with lanterns, sticky menus, and the scent of garlic and chilli oil thick in the air. 

They were tucked into a booth in the corner, so close that their knees touched under the table each time one of them shifted. Neither pulled away. 

Baku watched Y/N as she twirled noodles on her chopsticks with messy grace, laughing when one escaped and slapped back into her bowl. He did not care that this place was not fancy, and neither did she. 

She looked happy. 

Not careful. Not guarded. Not locked and loaded with some insult she would throw at someone to defend herself. 

She was light, like she finally remembered how to breathe without bracing for impact. 

Y/N caught him staring again, because he could not stop doing so, and raised an eyebrow while lifting a dripping strand of noodle over her bowl. 

“What?” She questioned. 

“You have sauce on your lip.” He answered. Her tongue darted out quickly, but missed it completely, and Baku felt something deep inside him tighten. 

He set his chopsticks down slowly and reached into his pocket for a crumpled but clean handkerchief he always carried. It was a habit to carry it with him at all times that started years ago when fights left blood on his knuckles. 

He leaned across the table and gently wiped it away himself. Their eyes locked as he did it, his knuckles brushing just barely against her jawline. Time stopped again. 

When he pulled back, his voice was rough in a way only truth sounds like, “Best date I've ever been on.” 

Y/N blinked at him, caught off guard by how serious he sounded despite being in some broken-down shop, eating cheap noodles like street rates. A slow smile curled at the corner of her lips, the kind meant only for moments you do not plan. Moments you earn by surviving pain and still choosing joy anyway. 

“It’s not even over yet.” She said. He grinned then, fuller than before, as if sunlight had finally broken through storm clouds after weeks of rain. 

“Good.” 

“You know,” She spoke as she raised her drink to take a sip, “You can be very poetic at times.” 

Baku leaned back in his seat, one hand resting near hers on the table – close enough that his pinky brushed hers each time one of them moved. The glow from the lanterns cast soft shadows around them. 

“Me? Poetic?” He shook his head, “That doesn’t sound like me. But you do make it easy, though. To speak, I mean.” He reached for his drink, not because he was thirsty, but because he needed something to do with his hands when she looked at him like that. Like he mattered. 

“There you go again, saying things like it doesn’t make my heart race.” 

A burst of air left his mouth, causing his drink to sputter for a moment. He frantically wiped his mouth clean while she laughed at his flustered reaction. 

“You–you can’t just say things like that!” He stuttered out with wide eyes. She giggled behind her hands, eyes creased with joy. It was a warm, soft sound that made his heart throb with every beat. How the hell was he supposed to keep his cool when she looked at him like that? 

“I’m just messing with you. I wanted to see how easy it would be to make you flustered,” She spooned some broth into her mouth before continuing, “As it turns out, it’s very easy.” 

He huffed and leaned back against his chair again, crossing his arms like a pouty child. 

“I don’t see how that’s nice.” 

She grinned because that was a sure sign she had totally and utterly flustered him. He knew she was teasing, but that did not help the rising heat in his chest. Y/N was too good at getting under his skin.

Before long, they had finished their meal. Y/N reached into her pocket to pull out her wallet, but Baku’s hand gently grabbed her wrist to stop her. 

He did not want his girl to pay. 

“You think I would ever let you pay?” Baku shook his head and pulled out his own wallet, ignoring how she rolled her eyes when he did. She knew that there was no hope in trying to argue this. 

“Have I passed your standards yet?” He teased as they left the shop and began walking down the street. It was late now, and the city was lit by sparkling signs and high rises. She hummed for a moment, pretending as though she was thinking over his question despite already knowing the answer. 

He had passed her standards long ago. 

“I'll have to think about it.” She answered. He scoffed at the way she pretended to be thinking it over. 

“Take all the time you need, princess,” He said, “I can be patient.” His words seemed to shock Y/N, as she stopped talking completely. Her eyes were wide, as if stunned by the nickname for a moment. 

They continued walking in comfortable silence down the sidewalk. The night was still young, and the lights from the high-rise buildings acted like stars in the sky. Traffic lights cycled through red, yellow, and green as cars made their way along the roads. 

Baku had glanced at Y/N for a moment and noticed her face scrunched up with discomfort. He stopped mid-step the second he saw it. It was like his senses went into overdrive seeing that look. 

His voice dropped low as he looked her over as if assessing for injuries, “What is it? Are you okay?” His hands hovered just slightly like he wanted to touch and reassure her. The streetlights flickered above them as the city hummed softly. 

She shifted on one foot, then winced again, and glanced down at her shoes. 

“It’s nothing. I didn’t expect to be walking so much today, and these shoes are not the most comfortable.” 

Baku looked down at her boots for a moment, eyes narrowed like he had a personal issue with them because they brought her discomfort. He did not say anything before turning his back to her and crouching low. 

“What are you doing?” She asked him. He glanced over his shoulder at her, voice low and firm; no room for argument. 

“You’re not walking another step in those. Get on my back.” She hesitated, obviously not wanting to be a hassle, but Baky was not waiting, “Come on, princess. I got you.” 

And just like that, she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and let him lift her onto his back with ease. He adjusted her weight carefully, each hand going to support her thighs, and stood up carefully. 

She was light, not because she was small, but because carrying the weight of the girl who had stolen his breath felt like nothing compared to the weight he had carried alone for years. 

Her chin rested lightly on his shoulder as they started moving again through the quiet streets. A beat passed as he carried her.

“Very chivalrous of you.” She joked. 

“Only trying to hit those high standards you have.” He answered. His voice was not strained at all, carrying her with an ease that impressed Y/N. 

She did not respond because there was no need to. The silence with him was comforting. Her eyes had become heavy with exhaustion, and she nuzzled her head against his neck while closing her eyes. Baku felt it, her breath warm against his skin. His steps slowed slightly in an attempt not to jostle her as much and to prolong this moment as much as he could. 

She was warm and so soft that his whole body ached with the need to simply stay close. Keep her there. For as long as she wished. 

“Tired?” He asked lightly. 

Y/N only hummed in response. Her lips brushed his skin gently, unknowingly to her, but Baku felt it. He shuddered slightly at the contact, fighting to keep walking normally so he would not stumble and drop her. Damn, he had been turning into such a mess every time she got close. 

She was pressed close enough that he swore she could feel the way his heart was threatening to burst from his chest. 

Time passed like that until he reached her apartment door. He stood in front of her door with her on his back like some knight out of a half-remembered fairy tale from childhood. The hallway lights buzzed softly above them. 

She stirred slightly, and her arms loosened around his neck as she blinked awake, voice thick with drowsiness. 

“We’re here?” She asked. He turned slowly, carefully, and lowered her down until her feet touched the ground. 

But he did not let go of her. One hand stayed at the small of her back, just to make sure she was steady, and the other brushed a loose strand of hair from her face. 

“Yeah. Safe and sound.” He reassured her. Y/N leaned into his touch without thinking about it, eyes half lidded and trusting in a way that made something deep inside him warm with pride. Her fingers curled slightly against the fabric of his sweatshirt on his chest. 

A quiet beat passed. 

“You didn’t ask me yet.” 

“What?” Baku's eyebrows furrowed. 

“To be your girlfriend.” She said bluntly. It seemed her proximity to exhaustion was a recipe for honesty.

Baku’s mouth opened and closed as he tried to recover from shock, “Well, I don’t know if I’ve hit those standards you have, princess.” 

She stared at him for a moment, “You really are an idiot.” 

Baku scoffed jokingly, “How many times have you called me that? You know, I'm starting to see a pattern.” She smiled at him, watching as his eyes narrowed in a joking manner that showed he was not truly offended. 

He began to rant with a tone of amusement, “You know, I’m starting to think you’re a bully. I mean, why would–” 

Y/N cut off his rambling by standing on her toes and giving him a quick peck on the lips. It was short, as quick as a blink, but it managed to stop his words in his throat. His eyes widened, and his body froze up. There was no thought behind his eyes, as though the software that was his brain had malfunctioned. 

“You talk too much sometimes.” She said. 

His lips tingled. That tiny soft peck that was over in just a second burned through him like wildfire. His mouth parted, closed, and opened again. No words came out. Not even a joke. No comeback. Nothing from the guy who never shut up, who always had some smart-ass comment ready to fire back. 

And she just stood there, smirking at him like she had not just dismantled his entire being with one move. 

“You–you just. You can’t just… do that.” His voice sounded almost out of breath, despite not doing anything strenuous. 

“Why not?” 

He groaned low in his throat and dragged both hands down his face like he could wipe away the flustered mess she turned him into, but it did not help. Nothing would help this. Her hands still gripped the front of his sweater. His hands dropped to her waist and looked at her with a quiet intensity only he could pull off: dangerous and softened by pure affection. 

“Because now I’m going to want it again.” 

And before she could tease him or mutter the word idiot again, he closed the gap between them. One hand moved to cup her jaw gently, but he still made sure to position himself in a way that if she wanted to pull away, she could. However, she did not, and it only encouraged him to lean in further. They backed up while still kissing until her back hit the wall, but he made sure to cushion the back of her head.

It was not a quick peck this time. It was deep. Patient. Sure. 

A kiss that conveyed everything he wanted to say: I've been yours since day one. You’re safe here. And you know damn well I am keeping you. 

When they pulled apart, just slightly, he kept his forehead pressed against hers. 

“Still think I talk too much?” 

“Shut up.” She spoke quickly before leaning in to kiss him again, as though she, too, had become as addicted to this feeling as he. His lips moved in sync against hers, parting and closing as he pulled her as close as he could. 

However, their third kiss was cut off by the sound of a low cough. They stopped immediately, pulling away slightly to see a sight that struck them both with fear. 

There, in the doorway to her apartment, stood James. His arms were crossed, and the look on his face was nearly indescribable. There was a hint of disgust at the sight, but ultimately, the unbridled rage caused one of his eyebrows to twitch. His look was a perfect blend of ‘I’m going to kill you’ and ‘I can’t beleive this is happening.’ 

Baku instinctively stepped slightly in front of Y/N, like some primal part of him had to shield her, even though he knew James would do nothing to his sister but most definitely disown him as a friend and beat him into next week. 

And honestly? 

Baku would not blame him. 

“Wow. Real smooth, Baku. Sweeping my sister off her feet and making out in front of our door like it’s a drama.” James’s voice was dry and mixed with barely controlled anger. 

Y/N peeked around Baku’s shoulder, her face flushed red, and let out a groan. 

“James, we weren’t–” 

“You were absolutely doing exactly what I think you were doing,” He then pointed at Baku, “And you? Don’t even try and start with me.” Baku held his hands up in surrender, but there was a slight grin that tugged at his lips as the shock had worn off. He was glad Y/N had such a protective brother; she would be safe regardless of whether he was nearby. 

“She said yes.” Baku’s words hinted back at the day, weeks ago, when they spoke in the apartment kitchen. 

Silence for half a second. 

James blinked, caught off guard. Then, he sighed deeply… dramatically… like only an older twin brother could do when faced with this situation. He looked between them: at how close they stood, at how Baku’s eyes kept drifting over her like she could vanish at any moment, and finally, he stepped aside. 

He did not look angry anymore, not entirely. Just tired, resigned. But also accepting. A begrudging approval. 

Maybe not approval yet, not until he made damn sure nothing could ever hurt his sister again. 

But for now? Fine. Whatever. Let it happen. Because deep down, he knew, if anyone could keep her safe, it would be Baku.

“Y/N,” James spoke, “Do you mind going inside for a moment?” 

She stayed still, as if she was not going to move, but decided it was best to listen to him. Her eyes made contact with Baku for a moment, like some wish of good luck, before she walked into the apartment. James stepped out and closed the door behind him. 

“I think you already know what’s coming, but it’s standard procedure.” James crossed his arms and sized up his friend, “You hurt her, I don’t care if you’re tall as fuck or built like a tank, you will disappear, do you hear me?” 

Baku nodded solemnly, even though inside he wanted to laugh. It did not take a rocket scientist to figure out that they were outmatched pairs. James, while fit, would be no match if they were to fight, but Baku nodded nonetheless to keep the peace. 

“I’ll hurt myself before hurting her,” Baku answered honestly. 

“Good response.” James blinked, “Now get out of here, before I change my mind.” 

Baku pressed his hand to his forehead in a salute, “Yes, sir.” 

“Now you’re pushing it.” James deadpanned. 

“Yeah, shit, I kinda guessed the moment those words left my mouth.” Baku winced as he turned around to start walking down the hallway. A small puff of air left James’s nose as he shook his head and walked back into the apartment. 

Baku was in the clouds his entire walk home. He smiled until his cheeks ached, and there was a pep in his step. Hell, if he could, he would probably be singing. 

The energy that buzzed through him stayed there long after he had gotten settled in bed. Baku lay sprawled across his bed with one arm thrown over his eyes, the other gripping his phone like a lifeline. The screen was still lit up from the last text he had sent her—something stupid like “still awake?”—but he wasn’t even checking for a reply anymore.

He was too busy replaying every second of that night in his head. The swing set, the noodles, her laugh. The way they kissed. 

His chest felt too tight. His skin buzzed everywhere she had touched him. And each time he closed his eyes to try and sleep, all he could picture was Y/N. 

Baku rolled onto his side for a moment, punching the pillow to fluff it up, before flopping onto his back again. 

His phone buzzed, and the lock screen lit up with a new message. He scrambled to pick it up, heart racing. There, in a notification, was a response. 

Y/N: Can’t sleep either?

Baku: Nah, I’m totally asleep right now. This is my ghost.

Y/N: Ghosts don’t text. 

He laughed for a moment, picturing the deadpanned face she likely had while typing it. 

Baku: Mine does. Also, he says you’re cute and that you should call me.

The three dots of her typing appeared, disappeared, and reappeared before leaving a final time. His screen lit up with an incoming call. Baku answered before the first ring even finished, and his voice was laced with something warm and rough all at once. 

“Hey princess,” He shuffled to get comfortable, “Did James grill you when I left?” 

A soft sigh mixed with amusement sounded over the speaker, “You don’t know the half of it, freaking out over ‘his little sister’. What about you? I’m guessing he threatened you or something?” 

“Nothing I can’t handle.” Baku reassured, “It’s understandable. If I had a sister, I would do the same.” 

“It was funny, though, that look on his face. I’ve never seen him more horrified and disgusted.” She laughed, and he heard the sound of her settling into bed. 

Baku laughed as well. In the moment, he had been scared of what James was going to do, but now he could finally find amusement in it. 

“Poor guy, we almost gave him a heart attack.” 

“Well, you were kissing me at our front door. Of course, he would freak out.” She said. 

“Hey,” Baku pulled up his blanket and glanced out his window at the dark sky, “You kissed me first.” 

“You saying I shouldn’t have?” She teased. 

“No!” His response was immediate, and he flushed with embarrassment at how eager he had sounded. He coughed to clear his throat and lowered his voice to a more casual tone, “I mean, no.” 

The two got quiet again and soaked up each other's presence, even if it was over the phone. A heartbeat passed, then two. 

“Don’t eat breakfast tomorrow.” Baku finally spoke. 

“What?” Y/N asked. 

“I’m taking my girl out tomorrow before school,” Baku responded confidently as he turned on his side. 

“Oh, it’s ‘your girl’ now, is it?” He heard the sound of a lamp turning off on her end. 

“Yup,” He responded, “So get some sleep, I’ll be picking you up early. Goodnight, princess.” 

A few seconds passed, and she gave a quiet yawn so cute that Baku wished he were there to see, before responding with a tone full of warmth. “Goodnight, mon idiot.” 

The line clicked off, and Y/N and Baku glanced out of each of their perspective windows at the darkened sky; each excited for when the sun rises. 

On Y/N’s nightstand stood the paper crane, placed delicately under her lamp.

✧₊⁺⋆☾ I've had this in the drafts for a while and was unsure if I should release it. It's my first Weak Hero fic, and I'm actually really excited now to write more for the fandom.

Cassie shuffled some papers by the register of the bookstore. Her eyes scanned the front of the store and looked outside to see the darkening sky. The day marked the end of her first week back at work. It had been months since her injuries, and she was finally feeling like herself again. Though she was not able to do any extensive heavy lifting yet.

When she had almost fully recovered, she had mentioned to Geonwoo and Woojin that she wanted to continue working at the bookstore for the time being until she figured out what she wanted to do with her life. They encouraged her, but were a little hesitant that she might overwork herself. 

Minjee, however, cleared their worries. The glare she would send Cassie’s way whenever she was going to pick up a box of books was enough for her to understand she was being fiercely looked after. 

“They’ll be here soon?” Minjee asked as she came up to the front. 

“Yeah,” Ever since Cassie got back to work, Geonwoo and Woojin had picked her up after every shift to bring her back to their place. They had been a little more reserved about letting her be anywhere alone. She knew they still held fear for her safety, but did not want to smother her completely. 

“You look like something is on your mind.” Minjee leaned against the counter and crossed her arms. 

Cassie sighed and set aside the notepad she was doodling on, “It’s just… well, I’m back to working and I don’t need any help with recovery. So, I’ve been thinking it's time I get my own place.” 

“Yet you sound a little disappointed by that.” Minjee narrowed her eyes. 

“No,” Cassie’s voice wavered just a little, and she coughed to cover it, “I only think it's time that I get out of the boy’s way.” 

Minjee let out a short laugh, “Honey, you say one thing but sound like you want to stay. I thought your relationship was working out?” 

“It is!” Cassie defended quickly before clearing her throat, “Everything with them is going well, fantastic actually.” Her face heated up at the thought. They had been taking things slow with her, respectfully slow. 

Her heart would race each time Woojin put his arm around her waist or when Geonwoo would kiss her temple with quite reverence. Their touches were always welcomed, and Cassie had come to learn that each of them was clingy in their own ways. 

“Then talk to them about it. I still think it’s incredible that you’ve bagged two hot guys,” Minjee joked, “Do they have any single friends?” 

Cassie only gave her a playful glare, and Minjee held up her hands in mock surrender, “Hey, can’t blame a girl for trying.” 

The bell above the door rang out, indicating new arrivals. Cassie’s boys entered. Geonwoo wore a dark hoodie and jeans and sported a small grin on his face. Woojin stood next to him in a hoodie and a puffer jacket with loose sweatpants. She never understood how they could look so good in casual clothes. 

“Hey, jagiya.” Geonwoo smiled at her. Woojin wasted no time in moving behind the counter and wrapping an arm around her waist to pull her into his side. 

Minjee rolled her eyes in a joking manner, “I exist as well, if you cared.” 

“You are great, Minjee, don’t worry,” Woojin fished a piece of paper out of his pocket. “A guy at our gym mentioned noticing you whenever he walked by. He’s given me his number for you. Don’t worry, Geonwoo and I made sure he’s good.”

“Does he wear a red North Face puffer jacket?” Minjee asked. 

Geonwoo raised a single brow, “Odd detail, but yes.”

“Yes!” Minjee snatched the paper from Woojin’s grasp. 

“Wait,” Cassie spoke up, “Is it the guy you mentioned a few days ago?” 

Minjee only blushed in response and tried to change the conversation topic, “Anyways, isn’t your shift over?” 

“We’re not brushing past this.” Cassie put her food down, but Minjee had already begun retreating into the back of the store. “We’re talking about this on Monday!” Cassie yelled as the backroom door closed shut. 

“Well, at least she got the guy’s number,” Geonwoo said. 

“Yeah, speaking of. You said you checked to make sure he was good. Don’t tell me you had Mr Oh run a background check, isn't that a massive invasion of privacy?” Cassie asked. 

Woojin whistled lowly, “Alright, let's get home and eat. I’m starving.” He picked up her purse from the counter and guided her to the front door. His immediate change of subject was the answer she needed. Cassie only rolled her eyes and let them guide her to their car, which was parked right by the curb. 

Woojin opened the door to the passenger side, and Cassie got in. He got in the seat behind her while Geonwoo sat in the driver's seat. 

The ride home was peaceful and like all the other ones. Geonwoo rested a spare hand on her thigh and rubbed his thumb back and forth in soothing motions as she spoke of her day, exchanging funny faces with Woojin through the rearview mirror. 

Eventually, they arrived home, and the thought of moving out brushed her mind again. It was not until they were sitting in the living room, eating delivery food and watching their current favourite show, that Geonwoo paused it. 

“What?” Cassie asked him. 

“You’ve been acting weird today,” Woojin said after he finished chewing on a piece of chicken. Cassie looked between the two. There were some days when she wondered if they had some sort of telepathic connection; they seemed to always be in tune with reading her. 

She sighed and knew there was no brushing past this. “Do you think it might be time for me to move out?” 

Both of the men froze, their gazes stuck staring at her. Their eyes exchanged a look of alarm. Woojin put his takeout container on the coffee table and began to nervously wring his hands. 

“Why would you ask that?” Woojin did not answer her question, but simply asked her one. 

Cassie shrugged, “Well, I was only staying here so Ian could not get me, and then staying because of my injuries… I’ve fully healed now.” 

“Cassie,” Geonwoo shifted beside her, and his arm that lay across the back of the couch brushed her shoulders, “Do you want to stay here?” 

“Well, I just thought since I am better now…” Her voice trailed off. 

“Ignore the circumstances of why you started staying here.” Woojin lifted his legs into a cross position so he could fully face her. “Do you want to stay here?” 

She wanted to. She really wanted to. However, she thought it would technically be considered too quick. They were dating, and it certainly added to their dynamic to live together so early in a relationship. Yet, she still wanted to stay. She loved waking up and sharing breakfast with them, driving to work and being picked up, coming home after a long day, and simply relaxing with them. 

Weekends were even better. Quiet mornings mixed with the little fun adventures that they would plan. While it had been close to a year since she arrived here, she had yet to really explore any of it, but with the boys, she was seeing so much. 

Geonwoo sensed her hesitation, “Do not think about what Woojin and I would want. This is your choice, Cassie. Your life.” 

Cassie blinked a few times while she looked at him. Her upper teeth gnawed on her lower lip. Should she come out and say it? This would be a massive jump in their relationship if she chose to continue living there.

“I want to stay.” Cassie gave her answer. Geonwoo let out an audible sigh of relief, and his hand moved to rest on her shoulder. 

“Good. I don’t want you to leave either, sweetheart.” Woojin kissed her on the cheek with a wide smile and then picked up all of the empty takeout containers to get rid of them. 

Once Woojin had gone to clean up the containers and dishes, Geonwoo leaned back to lie on the couch and pulled her back with him. She was nestled between his legs with her head resting against his chest. His arms wrapped around her as he exaggeratedly sighed and squeezed her. 

“I’m also glad you decided to stay, but if you ever feel uncomfortable with anything again, you can tell us before it stews.” He kissed her temple, and she melted into him. 

She could not help but dwell on his words. There was one thing she had been stewing on longer than the idea of moving out. 

Cassie could not deny that Woojin and Geonwoo were respectable. That was an immutable fact. Nonetheless, she had hoped they could maybe be a little less reserved. She loved Woojin’s quick kisses and Geonwoo’s clinginess, but they had not taken it further. 

Again, Cassie was not angry that they were respectful; in fact, it made them all the hotter if that was possible. 

But she had needs, wants for the first time in years. She found herself yearning, an emotion she was not entirely familiar with and was having trouble handling. Their touches were comforting, but increasingly so, they had begun to set fire to wherever their hands landed. Her entire body would flare up, and she found herself finding it hard to focus afterwards. 

After a few minutes, Woojin entered the living room again. 

“Oh, we're dog piling?” He joked. 

“Absolutely not,” Geonwoo grumbled with his face buried in Cassie’s hair. 

“Then move your legs up so I can get on the couch,” Woojin ordered, and Geonwoo complied, angling his legs so his feet rested off the edge of the couch. 

Woojin sat down on the end, but when Cassie tried to move her legs as well for him, he just grabbed them, “Not you, sweetheart.” 

He laid her legs across his lap as he used to remote to resume their show. They all quickly became engaged with the story, but Cassie was hyper aware of how warm Geonwoo’s body was against her and how Woojin’s hands massaged her calves absentmindedly. 

Cassie nearly cursed under her breath. She felt like a hormonal teenager discovering these feelings for the first time. She bit her tongue and decided to only focus on the screen for the time being; however, she could not deny the fire in her belly.

It had been a week since Cassie decided to continue living with Geonwoo and Woojin. Ever since, she had gotten more comfortable in the place, taking to calling it home. Even before her decision, those lines had already blurred. 

She now sat at one of the covered dining areas on the rooftop deck. The air was chilly, but she had one of the outdoor heaters providing all the warmth she needed. The night sky was illuminated by the towering buildings, and she took a moment to breathe. 

The sound of the door sliding open caught her attention. When Cassie turned and expected to see Geonwoo and Woojin, she was surprised at the sight before her. Both of them wore outlandish-looking party hats. Geonwoo carried a small ceramic dish with lit candles on top. Woojin, on the other hand, had a party horn in hand and blew it a few times. The tiny trumpeting sound cut clean across the open space.

Cassie’s face proceeded to get redder than it ever had when they began to sing Happy Birthday while walking over to her. Geonwoo used his hands to protect the flames from being extinguished by a breeze until they got to the covered area. 

She noticed that the dish in the ceramic was tiramisu. They remembered that she was not a big fan of cake, but had noticed she loved tiramisu. It was little gestures like these that they exhibited that made her heart race the most – small details mean the whole world. 

They finished singing and held out the dish for her to blow the candles out. Cassie giggled lightly before blowing out the flames. 

“Twenty-seven! Feeling ancient yet?” Woojin joked. 

“You tell me, you’re older,” Cassie replied while Geonwoo sat down next to her. 

“Only by a year!” Woojin plopped down on her other side and handed her a dessert spoon. He gave one to Geonwoo as well and held his own. 

Cassie took the first bite, while the two followed shortly after. They shared the dessert with occasional murmurs; soft little things they thought of throughout the day. 

“Excited for tomorrow?” Geonwoo asked as he set the empty ceramic on the table in front of them. Cassie leaned back on the comfy outdoor couch and hummed loudly. 

“A little excited, but a little worried.” They had both apparently planned her whole birthday, complete with a packed schedule, and they had refused to tell her what they would be doing. According to both of them, they did not want to ruin the surprise. 

“Hey, we’re good at planning fun days.” Woojin defended as he held up a hand against his heart in mock offence. 

Cassie laughed and moved to lean into his chest and looked up at him, “I know, but it’s funny seeing your worried faces.” 

“Trouble,” He scolded and kissed the top of her head. 

Cassie closed her eyes for a moment and soaked everything in. Her exhaustion was evident, as her day had been long. The nice breeze outside, with the warmth of Woojin and the heater, was lulling her into sleep. 

“Thank you,” Cassie murmured, “For being here for me.” 

The last thing she felt was Woojin’s hands carefully stroking her head and Geonwoo’s quiet words, “Always, jagiya.”

Cassie may have underestimated Woojin and Geonwoo’s ability to plan. She had woken that morning and came downstairs to a living room full of balloons and a large banner wishing her happy birthday. The boys were standing there waiting for her, each wearing a party hat, and they blew party horns upon her arrival. 

Woojin had prepped an enormous breakfast with all of Cassie’s favourite staples. They spent a long while, eating slowly and talking. 

Afterwards, the day began. Cassie was truly surprised at how many activities could be crammed into a single day. 

They had wanted to recreate their first time out together. So, naturally, they went to the aquarium first, then to the same restaurant for lunch afterwards, and perused through a local market. Through it all, their presence there with her – cracking jokes, holding her hands – was all it took to make the day perfect.  

By the time they arrived home, it was late, and Cassie was starting to feel a little hungry. However, before she could even take a step further into the penthouse, Woojin snatched her up in his arms. Geonwoo stood by her side with a slip of cloth in his hands. 

“We need to move you past the next surprise, and you can’t see it yet.” He held up the cloth, and Cassie let him tie it around her eyes. 

She could feel Woojin carry her into the living area and up the stairs to her room. She tried not to think too hard about the feeling of his muscles under his clothing and how study his chest felt. He plopped her down on the bed and scurried off to her bathroom for a few minutes. Cassie could hear the water running, and he eventually emerged. His hand found hers, and he dragged her into the room. 

A bubble bath was ready, with candles set up around the bathroom. A speaker, placed on the sink counter, played relaxing music on low volume.

“Take an hour to relax.” Woojin stood behind her with his hands on her hips and spoke in a low tone, “Then, come downstairs for your last surprise.” He left a deep, burning kiss on her cheek that made her heart race. 

Woojin squeezed her hips once before backing out ot the bathroom and closing the door to give her privacy. Cassie breathed out when he left. Her body felt hot, and there was a warmth in her stomach that made her twitch. 

Cassie spent the next hour relaxing in the bath, soaking up the nice scent and relaxing salts, before slowly changing into the clothes that had been left on her bed. It was a nice, long silk dress that, frankly, made her feel unbelievably good-looking. One of them had to have picked it out, as it was not from her wardrobe, and she was glad they did. 

Cassie made her way downstairs and looked through the floor-to-ceiling windows, only to see the entire rooftop deck decorated with lanterns. Geonwoo and Woojin stood like silent sentries at the bottom of the stairs. They wore matching black dress pants and white button-up shirts, black suit jackets and ties. 

Her jaw nearly fell off. 

They looked absolutely, devastatingly hot. 

Upon the sound of her arrival, they both turned around. Geonwoo’s eyes widened and a bashful smile made its way across his face, along with a red tint on his cheeks. Woojin’s eyes also widened, but his mouth formed the shape of a circle. Their eyes followed her as she descended the stairs until she stood on the second-to-last step to be at eye level with both of them. 

Geonwoo’s hand reached out to hold one of hers. He brought her hand up and kissed her knuckles and softly rubbed them with his thumb. 

“Stunning, jagiya.” Cassie blushed at his words before she turned to Woojin to see him still pulling the face he had earlier. 

“What, no dramatic comment?” She teased him. 

The bump in his throat visibly moved as he swallowed and spoke breathlessly, “Hello.” 

Cassie giggled at how awestruck he was. Normally, Geonwoo was all smiles and blush, and Woojin would deliver the flirtatious remarks, but it seemed that the roles had reversed in that moment. 

“Did you pick out this dress?” She asked him. 

“Y-yeah.” Woojin stuttered. Cassie gave him a soft smile and leaned up to his ear. 

“Thanks, baby.” She gave him a quick peck on the cheek before being led away by Geonwoo. Woojin stood perfectly still as they left, eyes staring blankly in the distance. 

Geonwoo’s hand was placed on the small of her back, his heat easily penetrated through the silk. He guided her out to the deck, where the lanterns glittered in the night. A table was set up with covered dishes, lit candles, and a vase full of flowers. 

“You two are full of surprises.” Cassie acknowledged. 

Geonwoo rubbed her back gently, “It’s nice to keep you guessing.” 

“Let’s eat,” Woojin spoke as he joined them and walked to the table. He pulled out a chair for Cassie and held out his hand. 

As Cassie sat down in the chair, she spoke, “Nice to see you come back.” His recovery was slower than she expected. Had he really been that stunned? 

Woojin leaned over the back of the chair with his hands on her shoulders and whispered in her ear, “I recover quickly.” His lips brushed her ear, and the hair on the back of her neck rose. She sucked in a breath, suddenly feeling heat pool in her stomach at the double meaning of his words. 

Geonwoo and Woojin sat down once Cassie was in her seat. Geonwoo lifted the lid over her dish to reveal her food, and she felt giddy at the amount of effort that had been put into this day. 

Dinner passed with an ease she had grown used to. Woojin would share stories of crazy experiences he had, while Geonwoo would add on important details that had been left out. Cassie would clutch her stomach every so often when her laughter got too much, and their eyes would soften with something deep when watching her. 

 As dinner came to an end, Cassie felt Geonwoo and Woojin’s hands each reach out under the table and rest on both of her thighs at different points in time. Geonwoo absentmindedly moved his thumb back and forth over the silk while his fingers rested dangerously close to her inner thigh. 

Cassie took a sip of her wine in an attempt to pretend she was not freaking out inside. They had never been this bold with her, and it was beginning to wear down on her already thin composure. 

“I still remember when you tripped on the stairs at that fancy hotel in front of a bunch of people,” Woojin spoke of Geonwoo’s blunder as his hand moved up her thigh, resting in the crook between her leg and torso.

“I’ve told you a million times, there was a weird dip in the step.” Geonwoo defended himself as he took a sip of water. 

“How can a person fall up stairs?” Woojin asked rhetorically. Cassie could no longer fight back her laughter and giggled. Her hand covered her mouth, and her eyes avoided the mock betrayal on Geonwoo’s face. 

Geonwoo thought it would be funny to punish her slightly for laughing at him by moving his hand further towards the inside of her thigh. His hand was large and splayed out, and the heat burned across her skin. 

Cassie sucked in a breath, but noticed the way the two subtly exchanged a quick look. It was then that she finally caught on to why their hands had wandered onto each of her thighs. 

They planned this. 

She refused to be a target of their teasing. Thinking back to how flustered Woojin was when he first saw her in the dress, Cassie skillfully and silently lifted her foot out of her high heel and proceeded to gently rub her foot up his calf. 

Woojin’s hand, which had been carrying his chopsticks, froze before his food reached his mouth. His other hand on her thigh, close to her knee, tightened.

“This Friday I will be working a little late,” Cassie casually changed the topic of conversation, acting as though she was entirely innocent. “There is a new shipment coming.” 

“You shouldn’t be lifting a bunch of weight,” Geonwoo said as his hand squeezed lightly. Cassie moved her foot from Woojin to his leg, sensually moving up as his breath hitched. 

“I’ve fully recovered,” Cassie reassured him. 

Woojin leaned in slightly, still reeling from her touch, “Are you sure?”

“My body can handle it.” The double meaning of her words was obvious, intentionally so, and she got great pleasure from seeing the way Geonwoo’s face turned red and Woojin’s nose flared. 

Woojin seemed to have had enough, as he put his chopsticks down, “Let’s stop pretending we are not aware of what you are doing to each of us.” 

“You both started it.” She justified. 

“Careful, jagiya.” Geonwoo’s hand retreated from her thigh as he spoke, and Cassie was disappointed at the loss of warmth.

She moved her foot up further, dangerously close to his groin and looked him dead in the eyes, “Make me.” 

Something snapped in Geonwoo and his gentle composure left with it. The jarring sound of his metal chair dragging against the concrete startled Cassie. He calmly pulled her from her chair, making sure she was not hurt by the sudden movement, and flung her up and over his shoulder. Her legs were held down by his arms, and she found her upper body against his back. 

“It will be our pleasure, sweetheart,” Geonwoo spoke as he diligently made his way back inside like a man on a mission. 

Cassie could see Woojin’s feet as he followed closely behind, and suddenly, this all felt too real to her. It had just been teasing, something she had gotten too absorbed in with her emotions and hormones, that it did not hit her until right as Geonwoo threw her down onto his bed. 

She breathed in and out to recover as her body bounced on the plush mattress. Woojin had already shed his suit jacket and tugged his tie free, which made the first few buttons come undone. Cassie barely had time to ground herself before Woojin’s body was hovering over hers. 

His lips connected with hers, searing and grounding. It was unlike other kisses they had shared. Those before were gentle, sweet kisses full of reassurance. However, this one made her body both hot and cold; blazing with a frost that made the hairs on her body stand. 

When he pulled away, his heavy-lidded eyes stared at her, “Red,” He spoke, “That’s the safe word, princess.” 

It was then that she felt Geonwoo settle down behind her. His back rested against the headboard, and his arms wrapped around her waist to pull her flush against his chest. Cassie could feel his bare skin through the thin silk of her dress. Suddenly, she wished she were not wearing such a pretty piece of clothing. 

Geonwoo’s lips trailed from the crook of her neck and up towards her jaw,  “Do you really want this?”

Cassie nodded slowly, caught up in the haze of Geonwoo’s lips on her skin and Woojin’s hands trailing up her legs. 

“Words, princess,” Woojin’s hands stopped as he stared at her intently, “We need to hear you say it.” 

“I want this, please.” Immediately after she answered, a grin found its way onto Woojin’s face. 

Geonwoo kissed her neck again, “Good girl.” He continued his assault on her neck while his hands wandered to cup her chest. The silk covering her was thin, but she felt like it separated her from his touch by a mile. 

Woojin slowly pushed up her silk dress until it was bunched up at her waist. His fingers left bumps in their wake. The cool air felt too much on her skin in contrast to their warmth. 

“Fuck,” Woojin cursed under his breath, “You were wearing nothing underneath the whole time?” His hands, careful but with precision, pushed her thighs to each side, exposing her core. Woojin’s breathing hitched in tandem with hers. 

“Are you trying to kill us, jagiya?” Geonwoo whispered in her ear as his hands moved to the bundle of silk at her waist, trailing under the dress, and landing right under her bra. Cassie nearly whimpered at the close contact with her breasts, but he seemed to be purposefully holding back. 

“N-no, no!” Just as she answered, Woojin’s fingers made quick work of parting her folds and trailing down slowly. 

“Fuck, already so wet,” He looked caught in a trance, “You know, I never got to finish my meal.” 

“What–” Cassie was caught off guard by his mouth moving onto her core. She could feel his tongue lick a strip upwards, tantalizingly slow. Cassie’s body moved with the shock of the sensation. She had never experienced this before, and the pleasure from it was a whole new territory. 

While Woojin made work of lapping at her juices, Geonwoo pulled up her dress further and helped lift the silk off of her. When her bare back made contact with his chest, she felt a tingling sensation spread across that part of her body. 

 Geonwoo’s lips left hot, open-mouthed kisses wherever he could reach: her shoulder, collarbone, neck, jaw, cheek. Anywhere he could reach, he moved as though it were his job. 

Cassie did not know where to focus or what to do. All she could do was try and regulate her breathing while her chest rose and fell with short gasps that morphed into moans. When she finally grounded herself despite the feeling of Woojin’s tongue nearly sending her into a convulsive fit, Geonwoo’s hands moved up her torso and latched onto her breasts as he continued to kiss her neck. 

The fire of it all was consuming, and as the minutes passed, she could feel the familiar sensation of the coil building in her lower stomach. Her legs thrashed slightly, but Woojin just used his hands to push down more securely, exposing her further. 

“I… I’m–!” She tried to huff out her words, but struggled to do so. 

Geonwoo’s lips brushed her ear and breathed deeply, “We got you. Just let go, baby.” 

It was as though his words flipped a switch in her. First came the tilt, like the earth falling off its axis, then came the wave. It was a delicious fire mixed with a cold sensation that was almost indescribable. Woojin continued his work as her hips moved up and down, chasing any kind of friction as she rode out her high. 

Coming out of the fog after Woojin pulled away, she was acutely aware of every sensation she could feel: Geonwoo’s chest rising and falling against her back, Woojin’s hands still placed on her inner thighs, and the plush feeling of the sheets below her. 

Geonwoo placed a gentle kiss on her temple, different from the searing ones he had been giving her. It was comforting and grounding, an attempt to ease her back to reality. He pushed her up slightly, so Woojin’s arms could wrap around her back and bring her forward. 

 “You taste fucking amazing,” Woojin said and then kissed her. He was focused and intent on consuming her. Cassie could feel the shift behind her of Geonwoo moving, but she was so engulfed with the feeling of Woojin’s lips and the aftertaste of her on his tongue that she did not pull away to see what was happening. 

It was not until Woojin pulled away and gently laid her down that she noticed Geonwoo had come back onto the bed. Only this time, it was not just his shirt that was missing. Cassie sucked in a breath as she saw all of him. Of course, she had seen both of their muscles, especially while training, but this was different.

He crawled until he replaced Woojin’s position between her legs, and his thighs brushed hers. His hands reached out to grip her waist and dragged her down until she lay flat on the bed. The muscles on his stomach flexed as he leaned down until his face was centimetres in front of hers. 

“You have enough for another round, jagiya?” He whispered. Cassie swallowed the saliva in her mouth and nodded once, but he only narrowed his eyes. 

Cassie realized he wanted verbal confirmation, just like Woojin had asked for earlier. 

“Yes.” She answered. 

Geonwoo smiled and gave her a quick kiss, “Good girl.” He leaned back on his knees and used a free hand to stroke his cock a few times, which was already hard. He had already slipped on a condom, likely when he had moved away to fully undress. 

He rubbed his cock through her folds, coating himself in her juices as he let out a hiss at the contact. He moved a few more times, teasing Cassie. Her hips involuntarily twitched. She was still sensitive from her recent release. 

Geonwoo continued to move slowly with little weight. She could see the muscles on his stomach flex as he took calm breaths. Cassie could tell he was restraining himself. 

She had enough of his slow movements and pushed her hips up in an attempt to gain more friction and pressure. She wanted, needed, him in that moment. Cassie had recovered from her previous orgasm and could feel the fire building inside her for another. 

“Please,” She begged, “I need you.” Cassie tried moving up to try and kiss him, but Geonwoo used one of his hands to hold himself over her and the other to keep her down. 

He answered by kissing her lips, but just as he did, she could feel him push into her. Her mouth opened in a gasped moan, and he only consumed it as his tongue began to explore her mouth. The stretch was so good and felt so perfectly right, and she could already feel tears pool in the corner of her eyes. 

“Fuck,” Geonwoo cursed against her lips, “So tight. You feel so good.” He pulled away so he could angle himself more.

Cassie’s hands moved to wrap around his torso, fingers digging into the muscles on his back. Geonwoo kept up a slow, near agonizing pace, not even breaking a sweat at the work. She had barely noticed Woojin’s disappearance until he was beside her, equally naked, and pushed her hair back that had started to get in her face. 

“You’re taking him so well, baby.” Woojin spoke, “Do you finally see what you do to us?” 

“Every day,” Geonwoo grunted between thrusts, “Felt like I was going insane every day, fuck.” He groaned out the last word as he hit a particular spot that made Cassie’s body jolt, and her fingers clawed his back. Her hips moved in sync with his, grinding up and down to meet his thrusts. 

Geonwoo’s pace quickened slightly, and Cassie flung her head to the side as though she was going to bury her head in the pillow. It was all becoming too much, but it felt so good in a way that ached. Woojin’s hands moved to each side of her face and tilted her to look up. 

He leaned in and placed kisses all over the side of her face. When he pulled back, Cassie’s face moved forward to try and follow his. Her tears clouded her vision, and she breathed out in short whimpers and moans. 

“Fuck, please, faster.” Cassie could not even bother to translate her words and spoke in mumbled English. Geonwoo, thankfully, understood what she wanted. He pulled up from her until he rested on his knees, and his hands gripped her waist. 

Geonwoo then used his grip on her sides to move her at the same pace as his thrusts. He grunted each time he sank in, and Cassie felt her back moving against the sheets. His resolve had snapped, and now he was moving quickly. 

Cassie could feel his cock stretching her and hitting a spot somewhere inside that made her mouth hang open and moans spill from her lips. Her hands had long left his back and gripped the sheets next to her in an attempt to ground herself. 

The weight in her lower stomach began to intensify, and she knew she was on the verge. 

“Geonwoo,” She moaned his name, and as she did, his rhythm faltered. His precision became lost as he began to move erratically, not all thrusts pulling out as much as the others. It was as though he was reluctant to separate himself from her, but was still chasing his high. 

“I’m here, jagiya. Fuck, you’re taking me so well.” Geonwoo cursed a few times under his breath. 

Then, the snap came. It was more intense than the last. Her eyelids could not help but shut as her eyes rolled back. Her body spasmed from the overstimulation, but Geonwoo kept up with his pace as she moaned his name. 

As she rode on her high, it seemed he was close behind. He gasped a few times and slammed into Cassie harder, hitting a spot in her that had her eyes open wide. He leaned down to kiss her collarbone as he came, biting down a little. His hips stuttered as he held himself in her and Cassie’s arms wrapped around him as the two of them attempted to regulate their breathing. 

Eventually, Geonwoo pulled out of her and stroked the side of her face with a tenderness that was a stark contrast to just a minute ago. He cupped her cheeks and gave her a soft kiss, as though that was the only way he could thank her for that moment. 

  He backed up and let Woojin come closer. Woojin sat next to her, watching with an intense look of lust in his eyes. She swallowed and wondered if she could even think of another round. 

“Come here, baby.” Woojin picked her up easily, as though she weighed nothing, and maneuvered her to sit in his lap. His hard cock brushed against her sensitive core, making a gasp slip from her lips. 

“I don't… I don’t know if I can…” She involuntarily shifted, like her body was acting ahead of her mind, and brushed up against him again. Cassie could not help but love the feeling, despite being overstimulated. 

“You can give me another one, right, princess?” Woojin asked as his hands trailed soothing motions up and down her back. 

Cassie nodded, but quickly remembered their need for verbal confirmation, “Yes.” 

“Alright, baby,” Woojin’s hands firmly gripped her sides, and he dragged her along the length of his cock, “Be a good girl, ride me.” Her brain turned to mush at his words. 

Her thighs were still shaking, put down by the amount of stimulation she had experienced. She already had difficulty sitting on him, so the thought of moving was almost incomprehensible. 

Sensing her doubt, Woojin’s lustful eyes softened, “You can do it, Cassie.” His hands were rubbing circles on the small of her back, like a small nod of encouragement. 

Cassie sucked in a breath before she moved independently over his cock. He was hard and equally as endowed as Geonwoo. Already, she could feel the phantom ache of how well he would stretch her out, that her hips jostled in anticipation. 

Woojin hissed slightly, “Damn.” His hands dug into her skin slightly as she watched his stomach rise and fall with deep breaths. The muscles of his stomach stretched taut with anticipation. 

She lifted herself up and grabbed his cock. She could feel her juices coating the condom, aligned the head, and sank down. Her mouth opened, but no sound left her lips. Her hands rested on his upper chest, by his shoulders, to stabilize herself. Woojin’s head slammed down on the pillow as a low hum erupted from him. 

Casie paused for a moment before lifting and moving down again. Her position made it so his cock hit an undiscovered angle in her, and her fingers clawed into his skin. Her legs shook, and she felt weak, but the feeling was something she could not help but chase. She began a slow, taunting pace and rolled her hips back and forth. 

Woojin’s hands moved to her ass and squeezed tightly, “Do that again– shit, right there. Oh fuck, just like that.” He continued to murmur encouragements while occasional groans tore through him. 

Cassie had grown to love the feeling quickly. Being on top felt thrilling, like she was finally in control. Her heartbeat thrummed in her chest each time her movements elicited a groan from Woojin or a subtle squeeze his hands would give her ass. 

Soon, Woojin made it abundantly clear he craved a faster speed and used his strength to move her faster. He moved her hips up and down as he thrust up to meet her. Cassie had to shift slightly to accommodate his grip, and in doing so, his cock hit that spongey spot in her that almost caused her arms to become jelly and drop on his chest. 

“Fuck, Woojin!” Cassie met his pace, furiously moving her hips and causing her clit to rub against his skin. 

Woojin saw her match his pace and let go of her ass to prop himself up into a seated position. Now level with her, their lips attacked one another in a passionate play. Her tongue fought with his as he explored her mouth. She could feel the frantic shake of the bed and hear the headboard bang against the wall, but it did not stop them. 

They kept chasing their high, feeling the familiar weight of an orgasm building. 

When Cassie felt her restraint snap and a wash of ecstasy washed all over her body, like fire consuming each inch of skin. She collapsed into Woojin and buried her head into his shoulder as a few tears left her eyes. Her third orgasm seemed to push her off a precipice and into a state where all she could do was frantically kiss his warm skin. 

Woojin followed shortly after. He grunted and buried his face in her hair as he came inside her. His hands moved up and down her back, trailing along her spine as he tried to both comfort her while trying to ground himself. 

“Fuck, Cassie, you’re so fucking beautiful.” He pulled away from burying his head in her hair and placed countless tender kisses across her face. All they could do was look at one another as the sounds of their heavy breathing filled the room. 

Woojin shifted to lift her off of him, and she almost cried at the loss of contact. He laid her down gently on the bed, and that was when she noticed Geonwoo had left momentarily and come back. 

Geonwoo had put on a pair of boxers and held a few items in his hands. He tossed a pair of boxers at Woojin before crawling onto the bed to the other side of Cassie. He laid a cold towel on her forehead, which helped cool a part of her down. He used the other towel to gently rub against her core. She was still caught in an almost trance-like state as he made quick work of cleaning her up. 

All she could do was mumble incoherently, mainly in English. Her brain was too worked up to even attempt to translate any words. 

Woojin and Geonwoo worked together to pull her up and slip a large shirt over her head, branded with the logo of the gym they owned. Once she leaned back, Cassie could feel most of her senses come back. 

Geonwoo gently combed the side of her hair with his fingers, “Hey, jagiya. Drink some water.” He held out a water bottle and angled it to help her take a few sips. Cassie felt the cool liquid moving down her throat and soothing the soreness that had built up from her wanton moans. 

“That was…” She struggled to find the right words. 

“Amazing?” Geonwoo asked. 

“Perfect?” Woojin shifted to lie on his side as he watched her. Geonwoo screwed the cap back on the waterbottle and placed it on the nightstand. Both of them worked to lift the blanket and draped it across all three of them. 

“I’ve never felt this way before,” Cassie spoke as she looked up at the ceiling, but still saw them on both sides of her peripheral vision. 

“What? Never had two men at the same time?” Woojin teased as he rested an arm across her stomach. 

“No,” Cassie was still serious, “I’ve never felt this way for anyone.” 

Both could sense the seriousness of her words. Woojin’s hold tightened while Geonwoo shifted to lie on his side and rested an arm across her chest. She felt unbelievably safe between them and in their arms. Each moment with them, there was never a time were she felt the fear she had been accustomed to her whole life. 

She knew she loved them. She discovered that the night she almost lost them, but she had never said it. 

“I love you both.” Her words caused them to pause, “I’ve known for a while, but I never knew when the best time would be to tell you. That night I almost lost you both…” 

“Oh, Cassie,” Woojin spoke first, “I love you so much, sweetheart. I’ll bleed a thousand times again for you. Anything to keep you safe.” 

She turned to him and noticed the softness in his eyes and the gentle smile on his face. His eyes flickered down to her lips, and Cassie leaned into him. His mouth moved against hers, lips slightly chapped but warm and comforting nonetheless. 

When she pulled away, Cassie was immediately brought into another kiss by Geonwoo. His hand moved up to her neck, and his thumb traced her jaw. She hummed against him, eliciting a groan from his chest. 

Geonwoo pulled away first and stared into her eyes as his face hovered inches above hers. 

“I love you, jagiya. I’m so glad I walked into that bookshop that day. Every choice brought me to you, and every choice after will be made to stay by your side.” Geonwoo confessed. 

Cassie felt overwhelmed by their words, and all should could do was look at the ceiling and try not to cry while both of her arms moved to rest over theirs that they draped along her torso. 

There, wrapped up in the sheets with them, Cassie felt like her heart was complete. 

Gradually, her eyes drooped closed from exhaustion. Sleep was overtaking her body as the ecstasy she had experienced left her system. 

In the place between sleep and awake, she could hear Woojin’s words echo in her mind, “Sleep, princess. We’ll be right here.” 

“Always,” Geonwoo reassured. 

Cassie let sleep consume her. For the first time, her life was as good as the dreams she once envied.

One of the hospital waiting rooms was empty with chairs lined up behind a glassed-off area. It was quiet, save for the sound of beeping and occasional announcements on the loudspeakers. The atmosphere was tense, charged with worry and fear. So much that it was suffocating. 

Geonwoo sat in one of the chairs with a blank look on his face. His whole body was rigid, so still as though he feared his movement would somehow make the situation worse. His eyes were red and puffy from tears, and he was still in his dirty and bloody clothing. 

Woojin was handling it differently. He paced back and forth erratically. His hands combed through his hair like it was all he could do. Woojin’s breathing had not calmed, still stuck in the same hyperventilating pattern he had when he tried to staunch one of Cassie’s wounds. 

Emergency surgery, one of the nurses had told them. Since she was rushed behind doors they could not cross, the pain in their chests worsened each minute. There had been no update, nothing. Each second was agonizing and pushed them both further into an abyss. 

Woojin had grown increasingly agitated, not at any one person in particular (though his hate for Ian had increased tenfold after the first shot), but at the situation. There was nothing he could do, nothing Geonwoo could do. 

All they could do was wait, and it was the worst possible thing they had experienced. 

“Are you just going to sit there like a damn statue?” Woojin snapped as he turned to his friend. The adrenaline he had morphed into anger, though he had yet to place the source of it, and he lashed out at the wrong person. 

“Are you not angry?” His voice had slightly risen, and immediately after, Woojin regretted the whole thing. 

“It’s like when you were hurt,” Geonwoo’s cracked voice rippled over the tension in the room, and Woojin’s shoulders immediately dropped in defeat, “But at least I could do something then, by giving you blood. Now, there's nothing I can do for her.” 

By the last word, a new slew of tears dripped down his face, shoulders heaving with muffled sobs. One of his hands gripped his chest, right where his heart was, as though the pain there was killing him. Woojin stopped pacing and looked at his friend. 

The agony of the unknown that they held was shared. 

He moved to sit in the chair next to Geonwoo. He was unsure of how to give him comfort when he was also dealing with the same pain. Woojin, however, could not imagine sitting in a waiting room twice while someone dear was fighting for their life. 

His hand settled on Geonwoo’s shoulder with a firm but reassuring grip. 

“Our girl will make it. She’s strong.” Woojin reassured, but a part of him did not fully believe it. If he could only ask for a single thing in his life, it would be for Cassie to live. He wished it like no other. Woojin’s face twitched. He had stopped crying a while ago, due to the anger that overtook him. Now, in the silence, tears trailed down his face and carved through the dirt on his skin. 

“Yeah,” Geonwoo sucked in a breath as he used the collar of his shirt to wipe some of his tears away, “Yeah, she is.” 

Together, they held the belief that Cassie would make it through the surgery, because there was no other option but that. Any other outcome was not an acceptable one; not one that they could ever think to bear.

It started like a dull throb. Numbing and achy, like putting too much pressure on a limb and getting a pins-and-needles feeling all over. It was uncomfortable, but familiar. Accompanied by it was sharp pain at two points. 

Next was a groan that left a rumbling discomfort in the throat. Eyes that felt impossible to open. 

Cassie groaned again as her eyelids blinked open and were assaulted by white fluorescent lighting. She tried to move any of her hands to cover her face, but found a warm, heavy weight in both of them. 

Her head turned to one side of the bed, and she noticed Geonwoo’s hands clutching her right. His head rested on the bed next to her thigh, facing her, and his eyes were closed as he slept. Turning to the other side, Cassie spotted Woojin holding her left. His face was buried into the thin blanket, shoulders rising and lowering with calm, steady breaths. 

Both of them looked so exhausted and worn down that it made her heart ache. 

Before she could call out to either, the scratchy feeling in her throat had her coughing. The sound, startling and destructive to the quiet room, shook both of them awake. 

“Cassie!” 

“Cassie!” Their echoing words hit her ears in a way that caused her to wince. Geonwoo released his hold first, choosing to push back her shoulders gently when she tried to sit up. Woojin then moved to the side table and quickly poured a cup of water. He held it out carefully for her to sip. 

Cassie carefully took a few sips of the cold water. It soothed tremendously as it passed through her parched throat. A part of her wanted to down the whole thing, but knew that drinking too much all of a sudden might hurt her more than help. 

She sighed loudly as she pulled away and leaned back into her pillows that Geonwoo had fluffed up for her. Her eyes closed for a moment as the dull throb in her head began to go away. 

Her last memories came flooding back to her, and she frantically moved her eyes between the two who were now looking down on her. She could remember the sounds when the door had closed behind her and Ian as his men began to beat them. The look on their faces, beaten and scared, as she reunited with them, reminded her of the hurt they experienced. 

“Are you okay?” She asked both of them with worry in her eyes. 

“Are we okay? Jagiya, you were shot.” Geonwoo sat back in his chair beside her table. His shoulders still sagged, like he was carrying an irreparable weight. 

“Twice, sweetheart.” Woojin sat down as well. His hands rested on the edge of the bed and twitched with the urge to hold hers. 

“Oh,” Cassie only just remembered. She glanced at her bandaged shoulder and then at her right leg that was covered in a blanket, but ached nonetheless, “What the fuck.” 

“What happened? I don’t remember all of it.” She asked. Woojin and Geonwoo glanced at one another for a moment. 

“I’ll get the doctor. It’s best if she explains it to you.” Geonwoo got out of his chair and left the room quickly. It only took a few minutes for him to come back with a middle-aged woman in a white coat. 

“Ah, Miss Bennett. How are you feeling?” She held a clipboard in her hand as she pulled open Cassie’s file to see her readings. 

“As well as I can be, I guess.” Cassie still felt off. It was like her brain was trying to catch up with the world around her. 

“It is expected to feel overwhelmed. If you feel any pain, just press that button right there to administer a little bit of morphine. You have a few small injuries, things like cuts and bruises that have been treated. Your two main wounds, the gunshots, will take months to heal.” The doctor looked back at her with a gaze of sympathy. 

“One bullet entered your left shoulder and another into your right thigh. The calibre was small and shot at close range; each bullet exited the body. There was significant internal damage, but nothing uncommon in injuries like this.” Cassie noticed the posture of Geonwoo and Woojin as the doctor explained her situation. She saw how they would wince each time the doctor brought up a new injury, and their gazes refused to look up and stared at the floor with something she could not quite pin down. 

“You will need a sling for your shoulder and will be in a wheelchair until you can switch to a crutch. When you're discharged eventually, you will have the first of many rehabilitation appointments scheduled to help you get used to walking again. In all, Miss Bennett, you are considerably lucky to have survived.” 

Cassie processed her words for a minute before she nodded, “Thank you.” 

“It’s what we do,” The doctor gave her another small smile. “Now, you will be in recovery for a while and require a caretaker who can help you with day-to-day tasks. The hospital can connect you to services for it, unless you have someone.” 

“Us,” Woojin said suddenly and looked at the doctor, “Both of us will be taking care of her.” He glanced at Geonwoo, who only nodded along with his words enthusiastically. 

Cassie wanted to protest, to say that they had done enough for her, but the words got caught in her throat. 

“Good. Two is better than one. I’ll let you rest now.” The doctor nodded lightly and exited the room swiftly, no doubt moving on to some important task. 

“Are you sure?” Cassie asked. They both looked at her with different levels of confusion. It was like the answer was obvious; of course, they would take care of her. 

“Cassie…” Geonwoo was hesitant, scared almost, “We need to talk about this.” She knew what he was talking about. Everything that was left unsaid, but still known. Their subtle confession that was not exactly one, her reciprocating before walking into the jaws of the lion's den. It was not something that any of them needed to delay any further. 

A subtle knock echoed in the entryway of the door to her room. Mr Oh stood there, a folder in one hand and a bouquet of flowers in the other, with a gentle smile. 

“Miss Bennett, it's good to see you awake.” He walked into the room and placed the bouquet on the table at the end of her bed, alongside the manila folder. 

“Mr Oh,” Cassie sat up a little more, “I don’t know how I can thank you for everything.”

He held up one of his hands, “You helped take down an evil man. People are safer now. That is enough payment.” 

The burning question at the forefront of her mind became more prominent. She shifted subtly, and the ache in her bullet wounds increased just slightly. 

“What…” She gathered the courage, “What happened to Ian?” The lightness in the room shifted as Geonwoo and Woojin became tense in their chairs at the mention of his name. 

“Ian Moore is dead.” Mr Oh’s words hit her in a way she never expected. She mainly felt relief, but a part of her was almost sad. Not that he was dead, but because the choices she made in her life led her to all of this. 

It was like she was grieving the man he could have been, not the one that he was. 

“What?” Woojin asked for her. It appeared that he and Geonwoo were just as out of the loop as she was. 

“It’s a shame, really. He had made many enemies in his line of work, and it just so happened that one was fed information on which transport vehicle he was in while heading to jail while the investigation could take place. It was attacked and set on fire. He burned alive.” By the way that Mr Oh described it, Cassie felt like he was leaving out an important detail. 

Did he feed that information to one of Ian’s enemies?

Cassie did not want to ask. It did not matter how he died or who did it. All that mattered was that he was dead. He was gone, and the life that held her in a cage was gone with him. 

“So that's… So it’s over?” Cassie asked. It was like a part of her mind was still suspended in disbelief. She could feel Geonwoo’s hand move to brush his fingers over her knuckles in an attempt to calm her. 

“It’s over.” The confirmation was enough to cause the tenseness in her body to ease. She did not need morphine for the wounds; this news was enough to make her feel alright for life. 

“But that is not all that I’m here for.” Mr Oh opened the folder and spread out some files on the table at the end of her bed. Cassie’s eyes landed on the documents with a single eyebrow raised. She could spot a picture of her on one of them. 

“What is this?” Geonwoo asked. 

“Everything she needs,” He answered before returning his attention to her, “You were never Cassandra Williams. You have always been Cassie Bennett. You came to Korea for a short vacation, but found yourself returning multiple times over the years. You decided to come and work, and have only recently got citizenship.”

Cassie’s eyes widened as he held up an official citizenship form. It was filled out and stamped with approval. An involuntary gasp left her mouth, and she began to stutter. 

“You... what? I– Mr Oh,”

“With Ian Moore dead, you no longer have a case for witness protection. You would have to go home,” Mr Oh shuffled the papers around, “Unless Cassandra Williams died of her wounds that night. Well, then, there would be no need to send a dead woman home.” He looked at her expectantly, waiting for her answer. 

She thought for a moment of her response. All Cassie could do was stare at the documents, at a new chance at life. 

“It is a shame that Mrs Williams died that night,” Her eyes flickered up to him, “But she took an evil man down with her.” 

Mr Oh gave her a wide smile and a nod, “Ah, well, with that, I will be going.” 

Cassie waited until he was near the door before she called out, “Why?” 

He turned and gave her a simple look, one that was kind and gentle.

“Because I believe good things should happen to good people.” His answer was simple, and he left right after. The words bounced in her head, and she looked down at her lap. Her hair fell like a curtain around her, blocking out the outside world. 

With subtlety at first, her shoulders began to shake. Geonwoo and Woojin exchanged a look. Woojin’s hand extended to her shoulder to comfort her, while Geonwoo placed his on one of her knees. 

Instead of sobs, they were surprised when Cassie lifted her head up, and the sound of suppressed giggles hit their ears. Tears streaked her face, and it was morphed between some kind of anguish and happiness. 

“Oh my god,” Her voice pushed out in English. One of her hands clutched her chest as she gradually calmed down, but the tears still occasionally came. 

“Are you okay?” Woojin questioned her. She only nodded to confirm that she was. 

Geonwoo rubbed his thumb back and forth over her knee, “How are you feeling?” 

Cassie let out a long sigh and looked outside the hospital window at the breeze rolling through the leaves of the trees, “Like my life is mine again.”

Things moved slowly after the incident with Ian. Her second day in the hospital, Minjee barged in after hearing from Geonwoo about Cassie’s condition. Minjee had been freaking out about Cassie’s health, but made sure to bring her favourite sweets as well. 

It took a long time to explain the situation, but afterwards, Minjee carried on. She did not want to stress Cassie, in her words, by dwelling on the situation any further. Though there was shock initially, it was refreshing to be in the presence of her friend again, albeit a little weird to see her outside of work. 

That became routine over the next few weeks before Cassie was discharged. Minjee and Mr Oh would visit every few days, but it was Geonwoo and Woojin who had refused to leave most of the time. If one could not be there, the other would. If both were unable to be there, they would check in frequently over text. 

Cassie was not used to being cared for by others, and it warmed a part of her heart that had never felt warm before. 

She was discharged after four weeks. She had to be in a wheelchair, and her arm was still in a sling. Woojin had pushed her chair while Geonwoo had gotten their car to the entrance to take her to their place. As required for her recovery, she had to either have her caretaker live in her place or live with them. Since her apartment had been abandoned, she was to stay at their place. 

Not that Cassie wanted to complain. They lived in a penthouse, coupled with incredible facilities and a stellar view. She would not mind being there for an extended stay. 

Due to encouragement from the two, she had begun to think of herself less as a burden and more as a person who simply needed help and who had people who wanted to help. She was not a liability, but an asset in the lives of multiple people. 

She belonged, and that was something she would not let anybody ruin, especially her own self-doubt. 

It was a little hard for her for the first few weeks at their place. She stayed on the ground floor until night, when one of them would carry her and the other would carry her wheelchair upstairs. 

Their days were spent similarly to how they spent the week in isolation. It seemed as though either was reluctant to leave her alone, but it became nearly stifling after a while. Minjee would visit often, and she would bring books with her. 

Cassie had found a comfy spot in their apartment. It was a seated bench with cushions right next to one of the windows in a less open part of the penthouse. Over time, she brought extra pillows and blankets, and it became her reading spot. It was her personal space to relax and not interact with anyone – something she needed every day. 

Occasionally, she would see some candy or a cute trinket left on her seat by Geonwoo or Woojin as a silent show of care. Cassie’s face would flare up. 

She had tried to formally address their feelings, but they had pushed back. Both wanted to wait until after she had recovered. They did not want to complicate her recovery any further than it needed to be, nor did they want her to feel pressured to feel the same way only because they were taking care of her. 

Cassie did not want to complicate things even further than that by telling them that she already had feelings for them before the incident. 

So each party stewed in their repressed emotions every day, coming closer to the brink of insanity when their hands brushed or one stared at the other for a little longer than normal. Geonwoo and Woojin were particularly touchy individuals, always with a hand on her waist (to help ‘stabilize’ her as per their reasoning), arms wrapped around her shoulders, or quick hugs whenever one would go out to get groceries or run errands. 

Yet, days continued to pass, and eventually Cassie was out of her wheelchair on a crutch. Her rehabilitation therapy was going well, and she found herself wanting to move more as the pain subsided. 

Eventually, she lost the crutch, but still had to take slow, steady movements. Walking still caused some light throbbing pain in her leg, but her arm had been doing great. It was long out of its sling, and she was using it well. 

Now that she was free to walk on her own, Cassie went back to her routine of sitting by the pool late at night. It had only been a few days since she picked the habit back up. 

Over the last few weeks, she had become increasingly irritated. Not because of a slow recovery, in fact, her healing had gone by quickly. What frustrated her was that she had come to love the small things Geonwoo and Woojin would do for her when she was not able to do them herself. She wanted to do the same for them – show the same level of care, but her body was not fully healed.

As her legs made small movements through the slightly cold water of the pool while sitting on the edge, Cassie did not notice the sound of the door opening until two figures sat on either side of her. For a brief moment, she got a flashback to the first night they had joined her, back on the lounge chairs. 

Both of them appeared stiff, like they had been talking about something before they came to her. 

“Did someone important die?” Cassie asked, but with a lilt of humour. 

“Cassie,” Geonwoo’s voice was serious, “We need to talk.” 

“About what?” She wrapped her arms around her stomach. 

Woojin stopped holding his knees and let his legs submerge into the water, as he was wearing shorts, “About this. About us.” 

Cassie opened her mouth to speak, but he cut her off, “We are not asking anything from you. But we wanted to say it plainly. Cassie,” Woojin reached out and took one of her hands in his. “You are the strongest woman I know. At first, we both simply wanted to get to know you, but in doing so, I have come to learn that I don’t want to simply know you as a friend. I really, really like you, gongjunim.” 

“Jagiya,” Geonwoo began after Woojin finished, his hand also reached out to her other free one, “I’m grateful that I have come to know a woman like you, and I hope to continue knowing you. I hope to continue learning more about you, sharing in your life, and supporting you however I can. I like you more than I ever expected to like someone.” 

Cassie felt overwhelmed at their words. She already knew that they felt something for her; it was evident in their actions, but hearing it was something else. 

“I… I think it has already been made evident how I feel for both of you,” Cassie began, but was reserved, “But I won’t be the woman that comes in between your friendship.” 

“Oh, sweetheart,” Woojin pushed a strand of hair behind her ear, “It can be the three of us. We talked about it a lot, actually. We want it this way.”

“I just don’t understand it completely. How would this even work? What do we call it?” Cassie was confused about how something like this could work. They were alright with both being with her? How? Why? 

Geonwoo cleared his throat, “We don’t even have to put a label on it, jagiya. Not until you’re comfortable.” 

Cassie turned back to the blue glowing pool. The night lights reflected off the surface. She could see their figures reflected in the water; each looked at her while they waited for an answer. 

She thought back on the promise they made her before confronting Ian; they would help her figure out what she wanted to do with her life. Currently, she saw a space open in that life big enough for them. 

Eventually, she slowly nodded, “I don’t know how this will work, but I would like to try.” Both of them let out sighs of relief at the same time and squeezed their hold on each of her hands. 

They sat there in contentment, perfectly happy with confessing their feelings. Now that everything had been said, the tension between all of them dissolved. There was no uncertainty there, or personal thoughts full of doubt. They simply existed next to one another and felt like it was right. 

Out of nowhere, Woojin released her hand, stood up at the edge of the pool, and jumped in. The movement and water splashing down on her caused her to let out a surprise yelp. Geonwoo wrapped an arm around her shoulders as he attempted to pull her back from the splash zone, but it was too late. 

“What the fuck?” Geonwoo questioned as Woojin surfaced. Cassie was shocked to hear him swear, since he almost never did, but something about the protective way he was holding her and glaring made her stomach flip. 

“Late night swim?” Woojin was still in his tank top and shorts he had been wearing, the wet clothes clinging to his skin.

“You’re crazy.” Cassie laughed. 

Woojin only smiled and moved to be right in front of her. “Crazy for you. Are you going to come in?” His hands moved to hold each side of her waist. She tried to ignore how cheesy his words were, but they still managed to make her heart race. 

“My leg, I can’t properly swim,” Cassie said. 

“Geonwoo and I are right here. We always got you.” Woojin encouraged. His words were true. Cassie had experienced firsthand their dedication and care, which was why she shuffled more to the edge and let Woojin help her into the pool. 

She squealed lightly and wrapped her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist. He spun her around quickly, splashing water around. The pool was cold, but the heat coming from Woojin was enough for her to stay comfortable. 

“See?” His hands moved from her waist to the bottom of her thighs to support her, “Not so bad, is it?” Geonwoo got up from his seated position and glanced at them with an amused look on his face. 

“Coming in?” Woojin asked. 

“Not tonight,” He answered, “But I've got to get something.” Geonwoo then turned around and made his way back inside. 

Cassie watched as a mischievous grin washed over Woojin’s face. His eyes looked down at the water, and then back up at her face. Immediately, she clocked into what he was thinking and began shaking her head side to side. 

“No. Woojin, don’t even think about it.” 

It had been too late. His feet pushed from the floor of the pool, and he quickly jumped up. The momentum of going up and then down as his knees bent caused them to dunk underwater. The chill consumed her, and she shut her eyes until she could feel them breach the surface. His grip stayed secure through the whole thing until they broke through the surface.

She gasped for air and used a free hand to wipe the water and hair out of her face. When her eyes opened, Woojin was already gazing at her with an uncharacteristic level of calm for what he had just done. 

“I’m a mess now, thanks to you,” Cassie grumbled. He used a hand to move some of the hair that stuck to her forehead. 

“Not a mess,” He whispered and rested his forehead against hers. His eyes still bore into hers, “You’re beautiful.” 

They stayed like that for a moment, perfectly happy to watch one another. Her chest was racing, and suddenly she did not even notice how cold the water was. His eyes, almost imperceptibly, flickered down to her lips. Cassie immediately could tell what he was thinking, and in doing so leaned in slowly. 

Woojin, seeing her encourage it, closed the gap and kissed her. His lips were slightly chapped, but still felt soft in their own way. From first contact, the fluttering in her chest became a storm. His grip on her thighs got tighter, and she could feel his fingers squeeze into her flesh. Their lips moved together in sync, a mix of heated passion and reserved gentleness. At one point, her mouth parted, and Woojin’s tongue moved to caress hers with a kind of dominance that made her heart feel like it was falling in her chest. 

Eventually, they slowly pulled away. 

“You’re good at this, sweetheart.” Woojin teased. Cassie could only blush and bury her head into his neck. He laughed at her embarrassment and made soothing motions with his hands on her thighs as they stayed in the water. 

The sound of the door opening and Geonwoo’s presence made them both turn to him. He had a towel in his hands and approached the side of the pool with the stairs. 

“Sorry to ruin the moment, but we can’t have you getting sick.” He looked at Cassie. Woojin groaned slightly, muttered something under his breath about the moment being killed, and began walking to the stairs. He lifted her up all of the steps until they were at level as Geonwoo. He used the towel to wrap around Cassie and then took her from Woojin’s arms, except this time, one of his arms was under her knees, and the other was supporting her back. 

“Wait,” Woojin spoke, “Where’s my towel?” 

“You decided to jump in, get your own.” Geonwoo half-heartedly joked as he began to carry Cassie towards the door to go inside. Woojin only huffed and fell backwards into the pool with his arms spread out like a starfish. 

Geonwoo silently carried Cassie all the way to her room and set her down on one of the chairs. He had another tower placed nearby and silently began to dry her hair. Cassie closed her eyes with contentment as his gentle hands made quick work. While not enough to dry completely, it was enough to be bearable. 

“I ran you a hot bath, just to help with the cold.” Geonwoo said, “I also made some tea. It’s on your bedside table.” 

“Thank you, but you didn’t have to,” Cassie responded. He stopped drying her hair and put the towel down. She opened her eyes to see him crouch right in front of her with his hands splayed on her knees. Even when crouched, he was still almost at her eye level. 

“But I wanted to,” Geonwoo cupped her face and used his fingers to wipe away a few stray droplets, “Can I kiss you?” 

Her heart nearly burst right there. She had not recovered fully from Woojin, and now Geonwoo was asking to kiss her. Cassie could not help but wonder if she had died that night in the alley, and this was somehow part of a dream her brain conjured up in her last few seconds. 

“Please.” She did not care if she sounded desperate. 

Geonwoo did not wait any further after that. He leaned in quickly, softly connecting his lips with hers. They were surprisingly soft and moved with grace. Cassie leaned in further as well, giving him permission to increase the intensity. One of his hands still cupped her face, while the other moved to the back of her head and threaded through her hair. When they pulled away, it did not last long as Geonwoo leaned in to give a few messy but quick kisses, the last one ending at the corner of her mouth, before he pulled away fully. 

“As much as I want to stay here, believe me, I do, but you need to get some rest.” His words were low and calm. Cassie was still lost in her feelings that she could only give a hazy nod. 

Geonwoo stood up, bent over to kiss her on her forehead, and made his way to her door. Before he left, he turned back around and gave her a soft smile. 

“Goodnight, jagiya.” He quietly shut the door behind him. 

All Cassie could do was sit in her chair and think back to both of the kisses with a lovestruck grin on her face. The only thoughts going through her head were happiness that she had accepted to explore this relationship with them. 

Perhaps, she could finally take control of something in her life.

Tonight. 

It’s ending tonight. 

Cassie stood in her room, pacing in front of the floor-length mirror. She sucked in a breath to compose herself, but still felt the chill of fear on the back of her neck, raising the hair there. She examined her appearance that was needed for the mission: a skinny black dress that cut off just above the midpoint of her thighs, revealing just enough for a club scene. It is strapless with a semi-plunging neckline, enough to blend in but not enough to gain any unwanted attention. Her jewelry was minimal and elegant, and she wore a matching pair of black heels. 

If it were not for the situation, she would say she looked hot. 

She glanced at the clock and saw how late it was getting. With one last one over through the mirror, Cassie exited her room and headed for the main living space. Her heels clicked against the tiled flooring and as she made her way down the steps. 

There, Geonwoo, Woojin, and Mr Oh waited for her. 

Cassie tried to avoid meeting Geonwoo or Woojin’s eyes. Things had been awkward since they had practically confessed their feelings without outright saying them the night prior. It was so fresh, like a wound that ached. She did not know how to handle the situation between her and those two, and frankly, did not wish to solve it until she was in a better place in her life. If she ever got to a better place in her life. 

Mr Oh had set up everything, worked relentlessly to see this through, and now it was the night it was all going to go down. 

She pretended not to notice the sharp, calculating gazes of Geonwoo and Woojin as they sized up her outfit; a mixture of both attraction and frustration on their faces. 

“Miss Bennett,” Mr Oh greeted her with a soft, reassuring smile, “Thank you for agreeing to this.” 

It had been his idea to use Cassie as bait to distract Ian, a proposal that had been vehemently shot down by the boys. They strongly opposed it, and it took Cassie and Mr Oh a long time to convince them. While they relented, Geonwoo and Woojin made it very apparent that they still disagreed. 

“There’s no other way,” Cassie answered. She was not entirely thrilled about this as well, but recognized that this may be their only opportunity. 

“Let’s go over it one more time.” Mr Oh rubbed his hands together, “Cassie?” 

“I’ll enter the club where Ian has been seen frequenting. I act as though I am surrendering and distract him for as long as I can.” Cassie confirmed. Thanks to her efforts months ago in attempting to take him down, his numbers were few. According to Mr Oh’s intel, Ian has had trouble gaining more men. Not many were willing to trust his skills as a leader after being betrayed at the level he was. All of his past members had been arrested; no criminal wanted to risk that happening to them. 

“While Cassie is distracting Ian, Woojin and I, along with your men, will go in and take out what little people he has working under him,” Geonwoo answered with his arms crossed. He was looking down, but every now and then would glance at Cassie. 

“While that happens,” Mr Oh added, “The authorities will be zeroing in on the club. What is most important is that Ian is subdued, Cassie.” His final sentence was directed at her, and she nodded. 

Even if it was the last thing she would do, she was going to take Ian down.

“Good. Let's roll out.”

Cassie sat in the backseat of an unmarked car, the dingy street illuminated by flickering neon signs. Woojin sat in the driver's seat while Geonwoo sat in the passenger seat. They were parked a street down from the club where Ian was currently in. Her foot had been idly tapping against the upholstered interior, body alight with nerves. 

Cassie let out a sharp exhale and moved her hands to the buckle next to her. She undid her seat belt and made a move to open the door. 

“Cassie,” Geonwoo's soft voice called her to attention. His eyes were already locked onto hers from the rearview mirror with a look akin to fear, “You know you don't have to do this, right?” 

“And what other choice do I have?” Her response was curt. She still did not know how to treat them given their affections. 

She did not want to feel like she owed them more than she already did. 

Woojin cut in, “He doesn't mean it like that. We're just… we're only worried about you being in there alone with him.” She noticed how he spoke the last word more softly than the others, almost whispering to avoid any mention of Ian. 

Cassie swallowed the saliva in her mouth, “I'm a big girl, I'll be alright.” 

She passed for a moment, wondering if she should say it, “plus, I have you two watching over me. That's all I need.” 

It was her own silent confession. Not an admission to feelings, but a branch extending out to them, beckoning: we’ll talk about this later, I promise. 

Their tense shoulders visibly relaxed as she said it. Cassie had nothing else left to say and opened the door. Her heels hit the pavement, and she gave them one last reassuring look before closing the door. A part of her felt weird to walk away from the car, like that had been the last time to speak; her last opportunity to tell them how she truly felt. 

Her determination to take down Ian, however, drowned out that odd aching feeling in her chest. 

Before she even entered the club, the sound of booming techno music filled her ears. It had been easy getting in. All she had to do was bat her eyes at the bouncer and cross her arms across her chest to make her cleavage pop a little more than it already was in the outfit. She hated doing it, but it was quick and easy. 

However, once she got into the club and realized she was truly alone for the time being, she felt the weight of the situation pull down on her shoulders. Now that she was inside, her eyes scoured the busy club. People danced, lights flashed, and there was too much shouting. 

She had never been one for the club scene, and looking at it now, she knew she never would be. On the far end of the club, there seemed to be a hallway that led to the backrooms. 

He had to be there. If not, it would be a good place to start searching. 

Cassie maneuvered her way across the floor, pretending to join in on people dancing. Everyone was drunk, with a good chunk likely high on whatever they could get their hands on as well. She could see it in their wild pupils and the way they moved. 

As she reached the door to the back, a man with an almost impossibly large muscled stature stepped out in front of her. 

“Now, where are you going, Mrs Bennet?” He spoke in English, and the juxtaposition of what she was used to caught her off guard. She looked up to see a white guy, whose eyes bore into hers. 

He knew her name. 

“What?” Cassie tried to play it off, but the rise in temperature in her body was not because of the stuffy club, but adrenaline shooting through her. 

“Don’t make Mr. Moore wait any longer,” He reached behind him to open the door, “I recognized you from the photos he has.” 

She should run. Cassie knew that she should run. She was supposed to catch him off guard, not the other way around. 

Ian may not have found out about the plan yet, but something felt off. 

However, she did not get the chance as the man grabbed one of her forearms and began dragging her back there. The door shut, and most of the noise became muffled. Her heart began to race, thumping in inconsistent patterns. 

They walked down a barren hallway before coming to another door. He knocked on it in a special pattern, waited a few seconds, and then opened. Cassie was shoved in ahead of him, and she nearly lost her footing. 

“Well, bless my eyes,” A familiar, deep voice spoke with joking amazement, “My Cassandra.” Her eyes looked up to spot Ian sitting in a large Chesterfield leather chair. 

He sported a glass of whisky on the rocks, and Cassie almost gagged at how stupid he looked. 

She had feared him? At one point, her stupid mind had feared this sad, weak man? A man, who appeared to have drunk one too many glasses of whiskey and looked unkempt. 

Ian hated looking unkempt. It was the only thing consistent about his personality. He banked himself on a perfect appearance. Seeing him now, messy and nearly alone, made Cassie realize just how badly he had lost to the FBI. 

He was dangerous, yes, but weak now. There was something in his eyes that showed a vulnerability he never had before. 

Cassie had wounded him deeply all those months ago, and he had yet to recover. His empire had been scorched, and all that remained was some scattered rubble still smouldering. 

Burn further, bitch. 

Her thoughts were cut off when he waved the man away. When the door shut behind them, the silence that surrounded became taught. 

“Do you know how much a heart could break?” Ian began, “My own wife sold me out to the feds.” He put a hand to his heart and made a noise of pain, “That hurt, darling, it really did.”

Cassie bit down on her tongue for a moment. 

You just have to keep him distracted. Distracted and as emotionally stable as possible. Geonwoo and Woojin will be here soon, along with Mr Oh’s men. 

“My love,” She could throw up calling him that, but knew he always loved it, “I was manipulated and used by the feds, I swear it.” 

“You swear it?” Ian took a sip of his whiskey and placed it on a side table next to him. 

It was only then that she realized he had a silver glock on the table as well. A spike of uncertainty shot up her spine. 

“Sweetheart, come here.” Ian beckoned. Cassie moved from the entrance to stand just in front of him. “Down.” 

A burning sensation found its way into her chest. She knew that command. Recognized how often he had used it. She did not want to; she was independent now. However, she had to keep him complacent. 

Cassie got down on her knees in front of him, though it was impossibly uncomfortable to do as her bare knees rested against the cold concrete floor. 

Ian leaned forward and used one of his hands to grab the back of her hair and yank her head back so she was looking at him. 

“Do you really swear it? Cassandra, my love, let's not start again with the lies.” His grip became tighter, burning against her scalp, “Let me ask again. Do you know how much a heart could break after betrayal?” 

She could not find it in her to voice a response and only shook her head. 

“It hurts a lot. Everything my father built, everything I built.” Ian then suddenly raised his voice to scream in her face, “You took that from me!” 

He let her go with a shove and leaned back in his chair, his chest heaved with barely contained rage and calculated breaths. The rough cement cut into her knees more as Cassie shifted. 

“I am so disappointed in you,” He told her, “But, in sickness and health, for better or worse, you are still mine.” His smile was wild, senseless, and fractured a little of the wall of fearlessness that Cassie had built. 

The familiar sound of a patterned knock on the door alerted them both to the man who entered. It was the same buff guy from before. He approached Ian and leaned in to whisper some information. Cassie tried to listen in, but was unable to hear anything. 

Ian nodded imperceptibly, “Good. Bring them here.” The man then swiftly walked out of the room. 

“You,” Ian’s hand grabbed her arm and yanked her to sit down on his lap with his arm across hers and gripped her thigh, “Sit here. We have company coming.” 

“I mean, sweetheart, did you really think my men don’t know what those two look like? The moment your little friends stepped inside the club, well, that was the end.” Cassie froze in fear. For the first time since walking into this room, she was scared. Not for her life, but for the lives of the two men she had grown to care for. 

It took only a minute for the door to open again. The man came back in. Geonwoo entered first, his hands restrained by another large man. Woojin followed after, also restrained. 

“Ah, to meet you two in the flesh. I have to admit it is a little underwhelming.” Ian spoke. One of the men repeated what he said in Korean, which made both of their eyes narrow in on him with hate. 

“I must thank you for returning my wife to me.” Ian used the hand that was not holding Cassie down to softly stroke the side of her face. She flinched and closed her eyes at the unwanted contact. 

“Why is nobody speaking?” Ian asked, “I mean, is this not a meeting? Where are your manners?” He laughed sardonically. The translator once again repeated his words in Korean. 

“Ian, please–” Cassie tried to speak, but Ian cut her off with a yank on the back of her hair. That action immediately set off both of the boys, and they made a move to surge forward. The men restraining them were quick to move and kicked the inside of their knees. Geonwoo and Woojin stumbled to the floor with their hands on the backs of their heads. 

This was exactly what she had wanted to avoid. 

“Don’t touch her.” Geonwoo had spoken first; the forceful English sounded a little choppy, but the threat landed all the same. 

Ian laughed, “One finally speaks! I’ll touch my wife however I want.” His grip tightened once again, causing Cassie to whimper in pain. 

Woojin spoke this time, his English a little less refined but still strong, “You’ll die.” 

“Threats now?” Ian cackled. He released his hold on Cassie’s head, “It appears none of you were ever taught manners. Rudeness is one thing, but taking another man’s woman. Now that is foul.” 

“She was never yours,” Woojin answered. Cassie felt a familiar sense of small comfort in his words. However, once the translator informed Ian of what he said, she could feel his anger coming off him. 

Ian did not hesitate to reach for the gun on his table and immediately hold it under Cassie’s chin. The quick movement was startling, but at the sight of it being pointed at her, they seemed to freeze. There was no more struggling against the hold of the men restraining their hands. All that was left was fear at the sight of a gun pointed at her. 

“Wow, that answers my question. You two really do like her?” Ian then turned to Cassie, “My wife has been whoring herself out?” 

“No, Ian, it's not like that. Trust me–” His finger clicked the safety off, effectively making her swallow her words. The mechanical sound was quiet, but it rang like a gunshot through the room.

“Trust you, my love? After you betrayed me? After you became a slut for these two?” Ian clicked his tongue. “My mistake was giving you far too much freedom.” 

“I know you have no reason to trust me or even owe me anything, but please, I am begging you to let them go. You can punish me for everything else, but give me this one thing.” Cassie had been struggling to hold back her tears. Her heart had never felt this strained. 

Ian looked as though he was thinking about her request. For a brief moment, she had a spark of hope, but his arm wrapped tighter around her waist and his nails dug into the exposed skin on her thigh. 

“Get up,” He ordered her. Cassie stood quickly as she did not want to anger him further. He got up as well, gun still in his right hand as his left grabbed her upper arm. 

“I thank you both for returning my wife to me, but we will be leaving now.” Ian dug the barrel of the gun into her side, both so she could feel it and so Geonwoo and Woojin could see it and know not to try anything. Cassie could not say whether or not he was actually willing to shoot her, but it was best not to test that theory. 

Ian dragged her to another door in the back of the room that she had not noticed. Just as he opened it, he turned to face one of the men. 

“Kill them,” He ordered, “Slowly, no guns.” 

Cassie felt her heart be pushed off an abyss. It was not just fear; it was a visceral pain that hurt more than any wound she had received. The loss of Geonwoo and Woojin sent her a clear message; she loved them. 

She fucking loved them. 

This was not the time to discover it, nor did it entirely make any sense after having known them only for three months. Yet, the answer was the truth. 

Cassandra Williams, nay, Cassie Bennett, loved Kim Geonwoo and Hong Woojin. 

And she could not save them. 

“Geonwoo! Woojin!” She shouted and made a move to go to them, but Ian yanked her back. The gun in her side dug extra hard as a reminder of what he was capable of. She still fought as much as she could as she was dragged through the door. 

“Cassie!” Both of their voices shouted her name, and the tears that had been stuck in her eyes fell freely. Her eyes never wanted to look away from them; she could not bear it. 

One of her hands gripped the edge of the doorway as she began shouting obscenities at Ian and all of the others. Curse after curse left her lips, but none of it would matter. 

Ian yanked her from the doorway, and it closed on them. She could no longer see them, but the immediate sounds of thudding and grunts told her of what was happening; Ian’s men were going to torture them. 

“You fucking bastard!” Cassie continued to scream out, “Woojin! Geonwoo!” 

“Shut the fuck up!” Ian shouted and moved the barrel to her temple. She could only sob as they moved down the hall. 

The door was a marked exit, and they found themselves in an alley with a parked car. It was black, and the windows were all tinted. The alley smelled of everything and nothing at once. It was like her senses had shut down. 

She knew that once she was in the car and taken to a second location, there would be no way to save Geonwoo and Woojin. 

“Get in the car,” Ian ordered as he opened the passenger door. Cassie feigned like she was going in, but the adrenaline of knowing her men were in danger caused her to act out irrationally. 

In one fluid motion, she slammed the car door into his side. Ian grunted in pain and let go of the gun in his hands as he fought to regain his footing. The firearm clattered to the wet ground away from them. 

“You bitch!” Ian cursed as he moved to hurt her, but Cassie remembered one of the lessons Geonwoo and Woojin had given her. She ducked from his swing with surprising levels of agility before lifting her leg to ram her knee into his crotch. The yell that tore through his throat was almost animalistic. 

Unfortunately, ten of Ian’s men came pouring out from the door. 

But, from the entrance of the alley, a new crowd of men came out. At first, Cassie felt overwhelming dread, but then she realized who the new people were. 

Mr Oh’s men. 

In her haze of fear, she had forgotten about them. Geonwoo and Woojin were to go in alone at first, but then joined by the men that Mr Oh had got in contact with; people he had worked with in the past. 

Cassie had no time to react before they started to clash. One even went after Ian directly, but quickly figured out he was skilled in fighting. They clashed in a cacophony of fists and blood, using items strewn about as makeshift weapons. 

She took advantage of the chaos and grabbed the gun that was on the ground, and headed back to the door for Geonwoo and Woojin. 

As she opened it, she came face to face with the very men she had gone to look for. They were bruised badly, with some cuts marking their faces, but alive. That was all that mattered. 

So alive, and still so beautiful. 

The look of relief on their faces at spotting her would be enough to bring her back from the precipice of death. 

“Jagiya,” Geonwoo whispered. 

Woojin took a moment to catch his breath, “Gongjunim.” 

Before Cassie could say anything, both of their faces crumpled instantly. Woojin reached forward and grabbed both of her arms to pull her into him as Geonwoo side-stepped in front of them. She watched on as Ian, who had attempted to sneak up on her, received a punch in the side from Geonwoo. 

It knocked the air out of him, and he fell back onto the damp cement of the alley. He coughed like a patient dying in a hospital bed. 

Cassie felt Woojin’s arms tighten around her as her back fell flush against his chest. Geonwoo stood in front of them. His shoulders rose up and down as he tried to breathe through his anger as he stared down at Ian. His singular punch dealt unshakeable damage. 

The sound of sirens broke Cassie out of her intense focus. Looking around, what little men Ian had were wounded and on the ground; they were either passed out or hurt too much to even move. Small groans of pain echoed through the space, but for the most part, it was silent. 

“Ah! Miss Bennett, Woojin, Geonwoo!” A familiar voice sounded from the end of the alley. Cassie turned to the voice and let out a sigh of relief. 

She had truly come to adore Mr Oh. 

He was not alone. A crew of police officers followed behind him. 

Mr Oh walked in front of them, “I’m glad you’re alright.” He looked at the gun Cassie had, “May I take that?” 

Cassie snapped out of her chaotic line of thinking to finally breathe, “Oh, uh, yeah.” She handed it gently to him, who, in turn, passed it off to one of the officers. Many of Ian’s men were being cuffed. With each rattle of handcuffs that closed, Cassie felt a part of the weight on her shoulders release. 

Ian was dragged up by two officers. His body was too limp to cuff, but groans left his lips every once in a while. There was no greater feeling for Cassie than seeing him being taken away. 

She turned around in Woojin’s arms and hugged him. He winced slightly, but reciprocated by holding her steady against his chest. He was warm and steady. Despite the sweat and grime covering him, he still smelled of sandalwood and spice. 

She took a moment to revel in it before she released her hold and swung her arms around Geonwoo’s neck to hug him as well. One arm circled her waist while the other went around her upper back and cradled her head against his chest. She closed her eyes, but the tears kept coming – not from sadness, but relief. 

She was free. 

Free. 

It felt so impossibly true. 

She pulled away from Geonwoo and looked at both of them. A smile made its way across her face. They gave her soft ones, too, despite the physical pain they were in. 

The moment did not last. 

From the end of the alley, a commotion broke out. 

It was like everything played out in slow motion. Ian broke free from the officers holding him. He zoned in on the officer next to him that was still carrying the gun. His hand snatched it and turned to Cassie. 

The barrel raised in the air, and just before an officer tackled him, he pulled the trigger and fired two shots. 

There was truly no way for a person to describe being shot until they were. In all her life of handling firearms, never did she imagine that she would be on the receiving end of a bullet. 

She felt nothing at first, until it all came at her at once. Her hands went to the location of the wound before her brain could truly figure out what had happened. 

One had entered the side of her torso, while the other lodged into her upper thigh. It was everything and nothing all at once. A white, hot, blinding pain. Her stance wavered, but before she could fall completely, hands wrapped around her body as she collapsed to the ground. 

“No, no, no, no, no.” Geonwoo’s voice sounded distant, like Cassie was underwater and hearing muffled shouts from above the surface. 

“Fuck, no, baby, hold on.” Woojin was scrambling to apply pressure on her leg while Geonwoo put pressure on her torso. 

The loss of blood in such a quick manner made Cassie feel lightheaded. Then, as if finally catching on to what happened, she screamed in pain. Sobs ripped through her throat, but the pain there was nothing compared to her wounds. 

Her eyes started to close, but Geonwoo clocked it immediately, “Keep your eyes open, jagiya. Stay awake, please.” He pleaded. 

Woojin swallowed back sobs that threatened to release, “Sweetheart, whatever you do, keep your eyes open. Can you do that for us, gongjunim?” 

“I...” Cassie could barely speak, “I’m cold.” 

At her words, their faces somehow managed to fall even further. She only just noticed the tears that streamed down their faces, mixing with the grime and blood on their skin. Yet, still, they were the only sight she wanted to look at. 

“Thank you,” Cassie coughed out, “I’m free.” 

Her vision began to blacken and the cold that enveloped her no longer bothered her. The adrenaline from the night had long worn off and was replaced with a pure form of exhaustion. She inhaled once before slowly exhaling. 

“No, no, no, baby, don’t. Hey, Cassie, jagiya, stay with us.” Geonwoo pleaded, “Please, please don’t do this.” 

Woojin was no better composed, “Sweetheart, please. No, no, don’t leave us. We just got you, baby.”

Cassie wanted to listen. A part in the back of her brain screamed to keep her eyes open. Fought every ounce of exhaustion plaguing her, but it was like her body refused to listen.

Sounds around her became muffled. Geonwoo and Woojin’s pleadings, the police sirens, people shouting, the distant sound of an ambulance; it all blended into one loud white noise before cutting off as her eyes closed fully. 

Cassie sat in the living room of Geonwoo and Woojin’s penthouse. She had spent the night after they had stopped her from meeting with Ian. It was early in the morning, and despite the fact that she got minimal sleep, her body was buzzing with energy. She had drifted in and out of sleep, fighting off the haze of memories that tried to push to the forefront of her mind. The weight over her shoulders had been slightly carried off now that she shared that part of her life with Geonwoo and Woojin. 

She sat on the couch and stared at the photos that were still scattered on the coffee table. The letter sat on top, along with the necklace with her wedding ring. Those objects did not scare her as much anymore. 

Cassie was still frightened, still did not quite believe they could actually take down Ian, but there was a small ounce of bravery she had gained overnight. 

A presence made itself known next to her. Geonwoo stood by the couch, dark grey sweatpants and a black compression shirt adorning his frame. In both of his hands were steaming mugs, wafting with a scent she loved so much. He sat down, making sure to be respectful and give her room but close enough to be there, and handed a cup of coffee to Cassie. 

She kept her gaze on the table, but took the cup from him, “Thank you.” 

“Did you sleep well?” He asked. For a brief moment, the memories from the night before flashed at the forefront of her mind. 

“As good as I could, given the circumstances. You?” She held it up to her lips and took a quick sip. The familiar smell of coffee put her slightly more at ease. 

“I was mainly worried for you, but I managed to get some rest.” The sincerity of his words caused her heart to ache. 

“And Woojin?” Cassie asked. 

“He’ll be asleep for a little longer. He’s not exactly an early riser.” Geonwoo explained. He then gulped his coffee, seemingly impervious to how hot it was. 

Cassie hummed as a response, took another gentle sip, and spoke again. 

“Not meeting up with Ian last night has set him off, I know it.” She used one hand to reach forward and took the wedding ring in her hand like she was inspecting it, “I disobeyed his orders. I’ve seen what he does to people who defy him.” 

Geonwoo gently placed his cup of coffee on the table and used his hands to reach out and cup her hand that held the ring. He picked the ring up, as though he could not bear to see it held by her, and placed it back on the table.

“He does not matter right now. Mr Oh is doing his best to investigate, and we will wait until there is a plan.”

“Do you think Mr Oh truly has the resources to help?” Cassie questioned. For the first time that morning, she made eye contact with Geonwoo. His eyes held the same look he had given her the night before, reverence. If she were standing, it may have been enough to bring her to her knees. 

“I do,” His hands twitched like he wanted to reach out and hold hers again, but refrained from doing so. “Cassie, you do know that we will help you? Until this is all over.” 

“To be honest, this has been my life for so long that I’m not sure I can picture one without it, without Ian.” Cassie took a swig from her coffee and felt the warmth move down her throat. 

“Then that’s our mission for the time being. While we wait for more information, let's find things you want to do.” Geonwoo proposed his idea. She could see a spark in his eye, like he finally felt useful to her in that moment. 

“That seems like celebrating before a victory. I don’t want to get my hopes up.” Cassie spoke. 

“You don’t want to what?” Woojin walked into the room, his bare feet padded against the flooring. He wore light grey drawstring sweatpants with a matching compression shirt. Cassie nearly cursed under her breath. Were they intentionally trying to kill her? They woke up looking like this? 

“We are going to help Cassie find things she actually wants to do, not what others have told her to do,” Geonwoo informed his friend. 

Woojin nodded, “Okay, but that does put a damper on what I wanted to say.”

“What?” Cassie questioned. 

“You don't have to do this if you don't want to, but I was hoping Geonwoo and I could teach you how to fight,” Woojin answered. Cassie’s shoulders straightened, and she stiffened in her spot. 

Woojin held up his hands, “Nothing too extreme or complicated. Just a bit of self-defence moves.” 

Cassie turned to Geonwoo, “And what do you think?” 

He shifted in his seat and rubbed his hands together, “Well, it would ease my mind if you knew some things.” Cassie thought for a moment. 

“Okay,” Both of their heads shot up at her answer, excited that she said yes. They were both hesitant about whether she would want to, given how much violence she had already been around. 

Woojin smiled, “Good, but first we eat. I’m starving.”

“Yes, what will we be having for breakfast?” The tone of Geonwoo’s question caused Cassie to narrow her eyes and glance between the two. 

Woojin’s smile dropped. “I told you I haven't practiced enough.” 

“What are you two talking about?” Cassie pressed them both. 

Geonwoo smirked, “Well, you see, Woojin here–”

“Aish,” Woojing shouted and scrambled to reach across the coffee table from his seated position to get Geonwoo to stop talking. 

Geonwoo only leaned back into the couch and turned to face Cassie, “You mentioned liking French toast. He’s been testing out recipes, but he thinks he gets them all wrong.” 

“I don’t think I get it wrong, you little shit, I know I do.” Woojin sat back on the couch with a huff. “Ignore him, he has too much energy in the mornings. We can think of something else.”

Cassie, however, was too absorbed in the normalcy of this interaction that she felt something tighten in her chest. Envy? Longing for simplicity like this? She could not pin it. 

“Actually, now I’m curious.” She challenged. 

“That settles it,” Geonwoo leaned back into the couch, and his shoulder and arm brushed against Cassie’s, “We’ll be waiting patiently, Chef Woojin.” Cassie hid her laugh with a cough and took a quick sip of coffee to try to recover. 

“Honestly, you two…” Woojin muttered under his breath as he got up and proceeded to the kitchen. 

Cassie, on the other hand, could do nothing but think about the warmth emanating from Geonwoo as they quietly sipped their coffee to the sound of Woojin in the kitchen. 

At one point, she heard a loud bang like a pot clattering to the ground, but his voice quickly called out afterwards, “I’m okay!” Geonwoo and Cassie attempted to muffle their laughter. 

Finally, after some time and the growing smell coming from the kitchen, Woojin called them into the kitchen. While there was a nice dining room off to the side, Woojin had set up the table in a calm breakfast nook. It was benched on both sides and much more intimate. 

She sat down in a spot, Geonwoo settled in across from her, and Woojin sat at her side. The plate in front of her had French toast dusted with powdered sugar and blueberries and strawberries, with some bacon on the side. 

“You actually went all out. It looks really good.” Cassie complimented. Woojin nodded in thanks, looking away to hide the redness on his face. 

The two began to eat, and Woojin joined shortly after. It was not an awkward silence, but comfortable. The quiet spoke like their time on the rooftop deck the night before. Relaxing and calm. 

“Do you think we’ll get an update soon?” Cassie asked. Woojin was too busy chewing on a strip of bacon, so Geonwoo answered. 

“I’m not sure, but Mr Oh went to your place last night. I sent him the address. He investigated the area, but also brought your suitcase. It’s right by the entrance.” Geonwoo shoved a piece of toast into his mouth. 

Cassie hummed, “I hope it wasn't much trouble.” 

Geonwoo and Woojin shared a quick look, something unsaid passing through their minds. 

“Cassie,” Woojin turned to face her, “None of this is too much trouble.” 

“We're with you, all the way,” Geonwoo reassured. Cassie placed her cutlery down and took a sip of ice-cold water in an attempt to cool off her flaring body heat. 

She opened her mouth, but was cut off by Woojin. 

“Please don't say thank you. This isn't a favour, this is friends sticking by friends.” He said. She could not help but feel a bit of disappointment at hearing the word friend, but quickly brushed it away. Her feelings towards them, however complicated, could wait. 

“Get ready for training and meet us in the living room in half an hour,” Geonwoo told her. 

Cassie moved to take her plate to clean when Woojin's hands reached out and enveloped hers. The touch felt different from Geonwoo’s, but still familiar and warm; calloused from all the weightlifting. Her heart thudded, and she had to force her lips to stay neutral. 

“We'll take care of this.” He gave her a soft smile and let her hands go, though he appeared hesitant. 

It did not take long for Cassie to get ready in some more appropriate clothing. She was never much for working out at a gym, but she loved to do yoga. She donned black yoga shorts with a matching breathable tank top with thin straps. 

Cassie had paused before leaving the room. She normally wore baggy clothing, and the times when she did wear something like this were in the privacy of her home. It felt weird; she had revealed such a deep part of her life to them, but she wanted to draw the line at some clothing. 

She sucked in a breath, “Stop being so dramatic.” She mumbled under her breath and gripped the doorknob to exit her room.

When Cassie entered the living room, the two were already waiting for her. They had quickly washed up the dishes and changed into more appropriate workout attire, which consisted of gym shorts and compression shirts. In that moment, Cassie wished she could hug whoever invented compression shirts. 

She did not notice that Geonwoo and Woojin had quickly averted their eyes at first when she came down. They exchanged a glance, each knowing exactly what the other was thinking. Cassie felt a little boost of confidence knowing her clothing was flattering.  

Woojin cleared his throat and made direct eye contact, making sure his eyes stayed on her face, “Follow us.” 

The two made their way down a hallway that Cassie had been curious about. There were a few closed doors, but they stopped at the one on the end. Woojin entered first, followed by Geonwoo. When Cassie walked in, her eyes took note of the space. It was a personal gym with a variety of equipment, including a boxing arena. 

Her face scrunched up with a question, “If you have a gym here, why were you always at the other one?” 

“Well, we own that gym,” Geonwoo rubbed the back of his neck, “It’s always good to get out of the house as well.” 

“Plus, it really helps when you have someone worth visiting,” Woojin added with a sly smile, though Cassie noticed they were both still hesitant to look directly at her. Was her outfit that revealing? Yes, it clung to her curves, but it still covered her well. There was nothing scandalous about it.

Geonwoo clapped his hands together and rubbed them. “Alright, before we start, is there anything you know about fighting?” 

“Not really, no. For as long as I can remember, I was surrounded by bodyguards.” She hummed, “I was never taught how to fight, but I do have one hell of a shot.” 

Woojin crossed his arms and shifted his stance. “You know how to shoot?”

“Did you not hear what I told you last night? My father was an arms dealer; shooting was the only time we spent together.” She sighed, “It also helped that my husband is one as well.”

“You still call him your husband?” Geonwoo’s question was more like a statement. There was a tone of uncomfortableness layered there that Cassie did not want to think about unravelling.  

“I just,” She took in a sharp breath, “I’m just used to calling him that. It was my life for years.” 

“Let’s just focus on the basics for now.” Woojin looked uncomfortable and tried to shake off the tension. 

“Yes. Let's start with footwork.” Geonwoo forced a smile, but Cassie could tell there was still something off. 

They had spent the rest of the morning and a good portion of the afternoon training. Cassie had been taught the basics, drilling them over and over again until, in their eyes, her form was perfect. 

At one point, Woojin had been holding up a glove with a flat surface for her to punch. She had only just started, but Geonwoo decided to correct her stance. He had hovered behind her and repositioned her legs. His arm had moved to her side and slowly went through the motions of a punch, careless of how he brushed up against her. Then, he had grabbed her arm and gone through the movements before he stepped back so she could do it on her own. 

That interaction alone had her burning up more than the workout. 

Besides adapting to the fighting, she felt utterly lost. Each time they would brush up against her or correct her form casually, she would lose her mind. She even found herself messing up some things on purpose, but instantly felt guilty. Her life was, for lack of better words, utterly fucked. 

She had already done enough by dragging them into this mess; she did not want to go any further. 

The training became their routine for the next week while they were under strict lockdown procedures. Groceries were delivered, and the only outside time they got was on their rooftop deck. Minjee had been notified that Cassie was taking a suspended break for mental health purposes, and Cassie hated having to lie to her. 

After training, Geonwoo and Woojin would spend the rest of the day coming up with small things they could do to pass the time; board games, puzzles (though Woojin would always quit ten minutes into it and play on his switch while Cassie and Geonwoo finished it), order lego sets and race each other to finish, and lately they had been teaching one another their favourite recipes. 

Besides the looming fear of Ian’s presence hovering over her, Cassie let herself breathe for what felt like the first time in her life. 

Which is why it felt like it all came crashing down one night. 

Cassie had woken up with a dry throat and decided to get a glass of water to help. As she approached the stairs, she could hear mumbling coming from the living room. She instantly crouched down so they could not see her over the railing. She peeked over it slightly and saw Geonwoo and Woojin sitting on one of the couches. 

“Mr Oh still hasn’t found anything solid. He’s been struggling even with all of his contacts.” Geonwoo leaned back and pinched the bridge of his nose with frustration. Cassie immediately felt almost sick. They had claimed in recent days that Mr Oh had contacted them with good news on his investigation, but they had lied. 

Was it to make her feel better and think something was going right? Or were they just trying to delay the inevitable and deny that this was all futile? 

“There’s got to be something we could do,” Woojin scratched his forearm, “I’m not used to feeling useless in all of this.” 

“Yes, well, we’re out of our depth.”

Woojin turned to face him, “What do we tell Cassie?” She instantly perked up at that question. 

“That we are no closer to taking Ian out than we were a week ago? That would crush her.” Geonwoo got up from the couch and began to pace. 

Cassie felt the crushing weight of all this come back down at her. She had existed in such a comfortable bubble for that week while she ignored the reality of it all. Her heart felt like it had been twisted. Why did she think she could escape this nightmare so easily? 

She had been a burden on them this whole time, and they did not even tell her. 

Her body lifted silently, and her feet crept back to her room. The mission for a glass of water was long abandoned. She quietly closed the door and flopped down on her bed. The soft, fluffy feeling of the blanket was not enough to give her a semblance of comfort. 

In the darkness of the room, Cassie silently cried at the death of hope for a better life.

The whole next day, Cassie acted unsuspecting. She had already planned to leave that night, but she had to wait for the best opportunity. Which, unfortunately, would be the middle of the night. Until then, she had to fake her way through the day. 

Training was fairly easy. She was so focused on the moves and getting it right that there were brief moments where she forgot what she was doing. Cassie could truly say she actually enjoyed boxing. Maybe, if Ian spared her, she could use some of it to defend herself in future situations. 

After training, she played her best to act fine as they binged a few episodes of a show they had all been hooked on. It was a mystery thriller and kept the thoughts of self-doubt away for a while, but it was hard to act cool as she sat between them. When dinner came and gone, Cassie dismissed herself early. She had to get up to her room and prepare to leave. 

A part of her broke when she wished them a good night, knowing it would be the last time she would ever speak to them. 

Once in her room, she stuffed a few articles of clothing into a duffel bag. Turning to her desk, she contemplated writing them letters. How should she say goodbye? How could she tell them that she thanked them for their efforts, but was going back to Ian? 

She sat down anyway and pulled out a piece of paper and a pen. Cassie must have stared at the blank sheet for a long time, because her eyes ached before she even started writing. It was hard to write, but she placed it down on the corner of her bed, obvious should they inevitably came looking for her. 

Cassie’s nimble fingers picked up her bag and shrugged it over her shoulder. She snuck as quietly as possible through the dark penthouse before reaching the front door. 

Just as her hand was about to turn the knob, the hallway light turned on. 

Fuck. 

She turned slowly to see Geonwoo standing at the end of the hall. He was in shorts and a tank top, hair slightly ruffled from sleep. There was this look on his face, not quite dismay, but knowing. 

“Cassie,” He spoke softly with an edge of disappointment, “Please tell me you are not doing what I think you are doing.” 

She bit her lip with nerves and gripped the strap of her bag, “I, uh.” No valid excuse could make its way into her mind. There was nothing she could do to explain this. 

As soon as she felt she could speak, Woojin walked from behind Geonwoo. The goodbye letter she had written was clenched between his hands, and he looked at it with a face that told her he had already read it. 

“Geonwoo and Woojin,” He began to read aloud from the paper, “I don’t know where to begin. I want to start off by thanking you, but I am not sure there are enough words to ever express my sincerity. Your kindness and generosity are, above all else, a testament to your character. I am thankful to have even known you both, even if the time was short. You both have shattered my skewed worldview and taught me that there really is true good out there.”

His voice carried a sense of hurt as he continued, “You have protected me, so now I must protect you too. Dealing with Ian will only dirty your hands, and that cannot happen. The world cannot lose such light. By the time you read this, I will have gone back to him. I beg you, don’t try anything. Move on, think of this as though it were a dream. Continue to be good. I wish you all the best, Cassie.” 

Upon finishing the letter, his fingers tightened their hold and almost crumpled it. 

“Think as though this was all a dream?” Geonwoo’s eyes softly looked over her face as the two moved to stand in front of her, “Do you truly think that little of yourself?” 

Her mouth opened and closed like a fish, but Woojin spoke before she could, “Let’s go.” He grabbed the bag from her and gestured with his other hand for her to walk back into the main section of the penthouse. 

“What?” She questioned. 

“I’m tired. Geonwoo is, too. We’ll talk about this in the morning when we have all rested.” Woojin’s voice sounded defeated, and he stepped back to make room for her to pass him. 

Cassie did not want to give up, “I know that Mr Oh has nothing. I know you two have been lying about progress being made.” Both of them let out exhausted sighs. 

“We’re only trying to protect you.” Geonwoo justified. 

“For how long?” Cassie questioned, “We cannot keep this charade up for much longer. I’m being realistic. This is the only way to make things right. If I go back to Ian, then you both can be safe and–”

“For fucks sake,” Woojin’s curse caught her off guard, “I don’t give a damn about being safe, and so does Geonwoo.” 

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Cassie tried to argue, but Geonwoo joined in with his own level of frustration. 

“No, you’re being ridiculous. Is it so impossible to think that there are people who care about you? That there are people who want to risk themselves for you because you are worth it?” The questions he posed, much like Woojin’s sudden snap, left her speechless. She crossed her arms and blinked repeatedly to fight the tears that had begun to pool in her eyes. 

“What do you mean?” She already knew the answer. She had begun to suspect it a while ago, but buried that suspicion so far down in fear of finding the answer. Cassie was not stupid. She could read people quite well. 

There was something there that they felt, something that went beyond a common friendship. 

“Don’t make us answer that, jagiya,” Woojin begged, his voice lowered. 

Geonwoo softly added, “Don’t make us complicate this situation any further.” 

That was all Cassie needed to confirm her suspicion. She let out a soft gasp that muffled an almost sob. Her hand covered her mouth as she turned to look away. If she looked them in the eyes, she knew her mind would betray her and lay out all she had been feeling as well. 

It was complicated, caring so deeply for two people at the same time, but somehow felt right. Like this was the way things were supposed to be. 

“Cassie,” Woojin’s broken voice called out, and she swore she could feel the warmth of his hand as he reached out to touch her shoulder. Before he could, the sharp sound of a phone ringing broke the silence. 

She turned to see Geonwoo clutching his phone and staring at the screen. A sense of uncertainty washed over her.