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when you heard that sohee actually dyed his hair blonde, you decided that you hated him.

you had to convince yourself of it. otherwise, you would spend the rest of your life trapped in this stupid, neverending cycle of heartbreak.

“you’d look so good blonde,” you said to sohee the last time he was in your bed.

his arm was draped around your bare shoulders, your cheek pressed against his chest while your fingers wandered through his hair. at your words, he raised an eyebrow.

your heart skipped a beat.

if you hadn’t been so exhausted from the previous round, you might have jumped his bones all over again.

“really?”

his hand moved lazily to your face. he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear before letting his fingers linger against your cheek.

you smiled and nodded against his skin.

he looked down at you with sleepy eyes and a small smile you wanted desperately to believe belonged only to you. for a moment, it almost felt like he was yours.

but he wasn’t.

sohee was only yours after a party. after a bad exam. sometimes before a party. sometimes to celebrate a good grade. otherwise, he belonged to everyone else. never you.

after he failed a job interview and you got dumped by a fling, the two of you found yourselves drunk enough to stop making good decisions.

the rest of your friends called it a night when sohee insisted on another round at his place for new year’s. you were the only one who said yes. you told yourself it was because your heart was broken and you wanted somewhere to put the hurt.

that night, sohee told you that you were beautiful. you told him that he was amazing. somehow, both confessions led to him making you feel amazing as the clock struck midnight.

since then, the two of you have always found your way back to each other. when things were really bad. when things were really good. when you were really drunk.

somewhere along the way, you realized you wanted sohee all the time.

drunk. sober. happy. miserable.

you wanted him on ordinary tuesdays and sleepless thursday nights. you wanted him when nothing remarkable had happened at all. but you knew that wasn’t how this worked. things like this were never allowed to become something else.

there were no spoken rules. still, you knew not to tell your friends about that first night—the one you had convinced yourself would be the only night.

sohee followed suit. he even took it a step further, treating you like less of a friend than everyone else whenever other people were around.

as if distance could erase what happened behind closed doors.

to make matters worse, realizing you had feelings for sohee drastically reduced the number of men you could tolerate looking at. meanwhile, sohee’s roster of girls only seemed to grow.

so the moments you got with him became precious. when you traced the moles on his skin. when he absentmindedly drew shapes against your arm. when you kissed his shoulder and played with his hair. when he whispered sweet nothings into your ear. he was good at lying, too. you had learned that.

“but don’t actually do it, hee.”

you gave his hair a small tug, hoping it would inflict even a fraction of the pain this arrangement had started causing you. imagining sohee blonde made you dizzy.

he hummed before pressing a kiss to the crown of your head.

“why’s that?”

sleep was already pulling at your eyelids, but you decided you wanted one more kiss before it stole sohee away from you.

because i’ll want you all to myself.

when a blonde sohee really stands in front of you and the rest of your friends, you realize it isn’t actually that difficult to hate him.

he’s looking only at you, the same way he looks at you when he tells you you’re pretty. the same way he looks at you when he’s touching you. like he knows. like he knows you love him.

the blonde looks amazing. he looks painfully handsome. the grin on his face is too smug. your stomach turns. you excuse yourself from the table.

one of your friends—the one convinced you and sohee had some catastrophic fight on new year’s—offers to come with you. her eyes dart between you and him. you refuse.

you need air. you need to be alone. you need sohee to stop being blonde.

outside the bar, your feet carry you two and a half blocks before you can breathe properly again. tears prick at your eyes. you press the heels of your palms against them before anything can fall.

sohee listened to you, which is the problem. if he had laughed it off, forgotten about it, ignored it completely, none of this would hurt so much.

but he listened. the realization plants something ugly inside you. something possessive. you want blonde sohee to be yours because blonde sohee exists because of you.

everyone already wants him. you’ve spent years watching people want him.

but now he somehow looks even better than before, and every time someone compliments his hair, you’ll remember that the idea came from a sleepy conversation after sex.

he’s blonde because he listened to you. and now you want him all to yourself more than ever. which means you’ll never have him.

you ask a pretty girl outside the bar for a cigarette. she hands one over without hesitation. you place it between your lips and prepare to ask for a light, but she disappears back inside before you can.

you stare down at the cigarette. you don’t even smoke. you think you just wanted something else to focus on. something that wasn’t sohee.

“need a light?” a voice appears behind you.

your shoulders tense. you don’t have to turn around to know he’s grinning.

“yeah,” you say. you keep your eyes elsewhere. “do you have one?”

from the corner of your eye, you see him shake his head.

of course he doesn’t. sohee hates cigarettes. he hates anything stupid. anything addictive. anything a person could end up depending on.

“no, but my scalp was so hot after all that bleach, i swear it could’ve started a fire.” he laughs.

nothing is funny. tears prick your eyes again. you slip the cigarette into your purse.

“i should probably get back,” you mumble, stepping around him. “they’re probably waiting.”

his hand wraps around your wrist. the touch sends a shiver down your spine.

“yn.” his voice is soft.

you don’t know what he’s about to say. maybe he’ll tell you he knows. maybe he’ll tell you this has gone too far. maybe he’ll tell you he’s sorry. still, you let him stop you. because hope is a stupid thing.

his hand slides from your wrist into your hand. he takes a few steps backward until you’re standing face-to-face.

“do you like my hair?”

of course you like his hair. you love his hair. you told him to dye it blonde, and he listened.

you love him.

suddenly, your chest feels too tight. sohee is looking at you with something bright in his eyes. hope. stars. something you don’t want to name.

this time, you can’t stop the tears.

“you’re mean,” you whisper. your voice barely exists. you drop your gaze to his shoes. he’s wearing the same pair as you. you wonder if he knows.

sohee’s expression immediately crumples. his hands cup your face. he tilts your head back toward him. “what’s wrong, baby?” he asks softly. “why are you crying?”

you think he’s punishing you. you don’t know for what. maybe for loving him. the word baby feels like a knife twisting between your ribs.

he’s never called you that while fully clothed. he’s only ever looked at you like this behind locked doors.

you wonder how many other girls he’s called baby. how many other girls told him he’d look good blonde. maybe one of them is the reason he actually did it.

“i hate you,” you lie. the words come out weak and small.

sohee freezes. his world seems to stop rotating. if you hate him, then he dyed his hair blonde for nothing.

“i’m mean,” he repeats blankly. “and you hate me.”

“yes.”

“then why are you crying?”

“why are you blonde?!” you shoot back immediately.

sohee’s eyebrows lift. to him, the answer is simple. you told him he’d look good blonde, so he went blonde. it never occurred to him that there could be another answer.

before he can say anything, your eyes catch a familiar figure walking down the sidewalk, a lifeline.

“riku! hey,” you call.

the dark-haired boy turns around, confused at first, before his face brightens. “hey, yn!”

he walks over without hesitation. his eyes flick between you and sohee. something passes across his face. understanding, maybe. riku knows who sohee is. more importantly, he knows what sohee is to you.

“it’s been a while,” he says warmly. his hand finds your wrist.

“we should catch up soon.”

you nod immediately. “yeah. definitely. i’m free right now?”

sohee understands at once. his face grows hot. suddenly, he feels stupid. he feels confused. his scalp still feels strange from the bleach, and he’s been worrying all week that he ruined his hair forever for no reason. and now you’re standing here holding another guy’s hand in front of him.

“i think i’m done for the night, yn.” his voice comes out flatter than he intends. he runs a hand through his hair, the hair you told him to dye. “see you later?” the question leaves him before he can stop it, hopeful and pathetic, maybe.

because no matter how strange things have gotten between the two of you, you’ve never gone out drinking and not ended up at his apartment afterward.

“don’t count on it.” you mean it. or at least, you think you do.

for a second, neither of you moves. then you watch his face fall. it’s subtle, but you’ve spent years memorizing sohee. you see it. you watch him turn away and watch his stupid, perfect blonde head disappear down the sidewalk.

and somehow that hurts, too.

sohee thinks you actually hate him. he can’t figure out when it happened. he replays every conversation in his head during the walk home. he wonders if he missed something, or if he said the wrong thing. maybe he should’ve never dyed his hair at all.

the image of you standing with another guy follows him the entire way. riku’s hand around your wrist, and the way you smiled at him. the way you told sohee not to count on it.

for the first time in a long time, sohee goes home alone.

it’s been two weeks since you’ve seen sohee, which means it’s been three weeks since you last touched him.

you can count the days since then, but you’ve lost track of how long he’s been on your mind. each passing day feels more unbearable than the last. you miss him. you miss the scent lingering at the back of his nape and drumming your fingers against the warm, smooth skin of his bare back. you miss the way he sings your name softly when he wakes before you in the mornings. you miss the amber in his eyes that only seems to appear beneath sunlight, glowing like something hidden just beneath the surface.

it’s become a cycle. you stare at the last message he sent, then the only picture you have together, then his instagram, and then back to the messages again. when you wake up, you remember the hurt on sohee’s face the last time you spoke. when you walk to class, you find yourself missing the feeling of his hand against your skin. when you eat, you wonder if he’s eating properly these days. when you lie awake at night, you try to remember what it felt like when you and sohee were just friends.

to you, sohee was always the life of the party. if anything ever went wrong, he could fix it with a joke, a funny face, or a laugh so contagious that everyone else had no choice but to join in. you’ve always been the quiet one, too cautious, too afraid to let go and have fun. the first day you spent with sohee, he made you laugh so hard your sides ached.

these days, sohee only makes you sad.

after two and a half glasses of wine, you confided in riku.

you told him how badly you wanted sohee. how happy he made you. how much he had come to mean to you, and how terrifying that realization felt.

riku told you to be honest with him. he said sohee deserved to know how you felt. he said that maybe sohee felt the same way. but how could you?

if you told sohee that you loved him, you risked losing one of your favorite people in the world. you wouldn’t be able to go to him anymore, not when things were good and not when they were bad. there would be no late-night calls. no comfort. no laughter. no sohee.

a life without sohee doesn’t seem worth living. even if he’s surrounded by other girls, even if he’s never really been yours, he’s still yours sometimes. thinking about losing him entirely only makes you realize how much you need him.

it’s almost two in the morning when sohee gets your text.

he’s standing by the door of his apartment, about to go for a walk in a desperate attempt to clear his head after what feels like the tenth straight night without sleep. his hand is already on the doorknob when his phone buzzes.

sohee barely glances at the notification. he assumes it’s another girl who isn’t you.

two months ago, he probably would’ve answered. he would’ve welcomed the distraction, let someone else occupy his mind for a few hours. but lately, every conversation feels hollow. every face blends together.

because none of them are you.

he pulls out his phone. all your text says is "hi," but it’s enough. it’s enough to make his heart stumble against his ribs. enough to make him abandon the walk entirely. enough to make him shove his phone back into his pocket, lace up his shoes, and start running.

if he takes the shortcut through the park, he can make it to your apartment in ten minutes.

maybe less.

it’s been five minutes, and sohee still hasn’t responded to your text.

before panicking, you remind yourself that it’s two in the morning. he’s probably asleep. you’re the one lying awake every night, tossing and turning and living in a constant state of unrest. sohee is probably sleeping peacefully.

you’re about to give up and call it a night when a knock sounds at your door.

your stomach drops.

with every step toward the door, your heart rattles harder against your ribs. by the time your hand reaches the doorknob, you’re convinced it can’t possibly be him.

when you open the door, sohee is standing there trying to catch his breath.

his cheeks are flushed pink. his blonde hair is messy from the wind, falling into his eyes as his chest rises and falls beneath a thin t-shirt. for a second, neither of you says anything.

then sohee’s face breaks into a grin the moment his eyes land on you.

you want to cry. all at once, you’re struck by the overwhelming realization that you love him.

before any tears can fall, you reach for his wrist and pull him toward you. the second his arms wrap around you, something inside your chest finally settles. you think sohee sighs against your hair.

“you ran here?” you mumble into his chest. he smells like sweat and sohee.

“yeah,” he says softly. his voice vibrates through you.

“why?”

sohee pulls back just enough to look at you. his eyes find yours immediately.

“you texted me.”

you stare at him. his arm around your waist doesn’t loosen. if anything, it tightens slightly. there’s nowhere to look except his eyes. your cheeks begin to burn beneath his gaze.

your fuck buddy dyed his hair blonde because you told him it would look good. then he ran to your apartment at two in the morning because you sent him a text that only said hi after weeks of no contact.

you aren’t sure what you’re supposed to do with that information.

“come in,” you say eventually. your face feels impossibly hot. you try to step away.

“it’s been so long. i don’t get a kiss?”

sohee pulls you back against him with the cheekiest grin you’ve ever seen.

your entire face burns, because that’s the problem with kissing sohee.

if you kiss him tonight, you won’t stop there. and if you don’t stop there, nothing will change. you’ll still love him, he’ll still be sohee. and tomorrow morning you’ll wake up wanting even more.

“let’s at least get inside first,” you say weakly.

sohee rolls his eyes, but the grin never leaves his face.

the second his grip loosens, you lean forward and press a quick kiss to his cheek before slipping out of his arms and making a beeline for the kitchen.

behind you, everything goes quiet. you glance over your shoulder.

sohee’s head has fallen back. he’s staring at the ceiling with one hand covering his eyes, a helpless grin spreading across his face. his ears are pink. his cheeks are pink. for a moment, he looks younger than usual. softer.

you have to look away before your heart does something stupid.

sohee thinks you’re way too cute.

he inches around the corner into the kitchen, where you have your head buried in the fridge.

when you spin around, he can’t quite hide his smile.

“want a water?” you ask, pressing a cold bottle against your flushed cheeks. “since you ran and all?”

sohee is standing too close and he’s grinning.

before you can take a step back, he hooks two fingers into the pocket of your hoodie and gently pulls you toward him. your breath catches. your chest rises and falls with anticipation while you clutch the water bottle between the two of you.

“i would love…” he says, his voice low enough to make your heart race. your hands start shaking.

then sohee releases you, reaches past your hands, and takes the bottle. “a water. thanks, yn.”

he twists the cap open and grins. sohee watches your reaction and remembers exactly why you became his favorite girl to play with. you wear every emotion openly—surprise, annoyance, hope. all of it passes across your face before you can stop it.

he loves that about you.

you escape to the couch while sohee drinks his water. settling into your usual spot in the center cushion, you try to focus on the television instead of him to no avail.

your eyes drift to his throat. you watch his adam’s apple bob as he drinks. watch the way his hair falls over his forehead. watch the way the blonde somehow makes his eyes look even warmer.

sohee catches you staring and his grin widens immediately.

you look away first. you wonder if he’s really this happy. you wonder what makes him smile when you’re not around. you wonder why he smiles so much when he’s with you. has it always been like this? or does three weeks simply feel long enough to make you forget? the time apart feels less like three weeks and more like a year.

the last time you sat together on this couch, you barely made it through half an episode of whatever random show he’d put on before his hand was up your shirt and your tongue was in his mouth.

today, you’re determined to talk, like you used to.

sohee drops down onto the couch beside you, close enough that his leg immediately presses against yours. his hand settles on your knee, warm and familiar, and leaves it there.

you put all your concentration into choosing a movie while trying not to think about the fact that sohee’s hand is finally back on your skin.

he leans forward and you feel his breath brush the back of your neck. his chin settles against your shoulder.

“sohee…” you whine softly, nudging him away.

you click on the first movie that looks remotely watchable before finally turning your attention toward him.

“what?” he asks.

he pulls back, but only slightly.

“what’s wrong?”

his leg remains pressed against yours. his eyes shine beneath an exaggerated pout.

you still can’t believe he’s blonde, and back in your apartment. he’s blonde and sitting on your couch and looking at you like that. but he’s not yours. sohee has occupied every corner of your life for months. he’s been inside of you, and still, he isn’t yours. the realization stings every time.

you turn toward him completely and reach up to run your fingers through his hair. the strands are softer than you expected. “your roots haven’t come in yet,” you say quietly. sohee immediately brightens. “i’ve been keeping up with it.” your fingers continue combing through the pale strands. “you have?”

“you haven’t really gotten to see much of it.” he smiles. “i figured i should at least do that much for you.”

your hand stills, and so does your heart. “for me?”

something flickers in his expression. something soft. he wants you to keep touching his hair. he thinks he could stay exactly like this forever, on your couch, with your fingers in his hair.

he nods slowly. “i want to keep this color for a long time, yn.”

his words make you feel a little insane, and you can tell that they were carefully chosen. every time you try to move on, sohee hands you another sliver of hope. like water to someone dying of thirst.

he’s maintaining a difficult, expensive hair color because you once told him it would look good. he wants to stay blonde because you suggested it. your heart takes that information and runs far beyond what he’s actually said.

it imagines permanence and commitment and a future. it imagines him choosing you the same way you’ve already chosen him.

before your thoughts can spiral any further, your hands slide from his hair to his face. your thumbs brush over the moles on his cheek, the ones you’ve always loved.

sohee closes his eyes briefly. he thinks he could stay here forever, too.

then reality returns. you wonder how many other girls have played with his hair. how many have touched his face. how many have looked at him and fallen in love despite knowing better. how many text him at two in the morning. how many he would run to.

your chest tightens.

riku’s words drift back into your head:  the only way you’ll ever know is if you tell him. but you’ve already decided you can’t. so instead, you choose uncertainty. you choose darkness.

“hey.” sohee’s voice is gentle. he brings his hands over yours. “what’s wrong? let me in.”

you pull away first. your hands fall into your lap as you shift against the back cushion. drawing your knees to your chest, you rest your chin on them and look at him. his eyelashes, the slope of his nose. his messy blonde hair. you memorize him instead of answering.

sohee doesn’t know what to do when you close yourself off. he isn’t sure where he stands anymore. not after three weeks, not after the bar. not after tonight. more than anything, he doesn’t want to make the wrong move. so he waits.

“how have you been, sohee?”

he hesitates. he isn’t sure whether to tell the truth. he wants to say the right thing. he wants to make you happy. he opens his mouth, but nothing comes out.

“i bet you’ve been good, right?” you continue. your voice is light, but only barely. “you’ve probably been busy. probably even more popular with that hair.” your lower lip juts out into a small pout. “it’s okay. i already know.”

what you really wanted was for him to say he’d been miserable. that he couldn’t sleep. that he couldn’t stop thinking about you. but that’s not how this works. you know that much.

sohee shakes his head. “i haven’t been busy.” you glance at him, confused. “a lot of…people wanted to see the blonde, sure.” he shrugs. “but it didn’t matter.” your stomach twists. “why not?” he looks down at his hands. “because they weren’t you.” his voice is quiet, almost embarrassed. “you were the one who suggested it.”

the room suddenly feels too warm. you stare at him. you aren’t sure if he understands what he’s saying. you aren’t sure if he’s trying to make you feel this way. you aren’t sure whether to be touched, angry, hopeful, or completely confused. all you know is that your face is burning. all you know is that your heart has been racing since the moment he appeared outside your door.

“why didn’t you text me?” you try to keep your voice steady. you try not to cry. sohee answers immediately. “you told me not to count on it.”

sohee doesn’t know what else he can do to make you understand him.

you stare at him. at his blonde hair and his big brown eyes staring right back at you. he looks softer tonight somehow. maybe it’s because it’s really late. maybe it’s because he’s sitting on your couch after running all the way here. maybe it’s because you missed him so much that everything about him feels overwhelming.

you want to believe that he’s been thinking about what you said ever since the last time you saw him. the possibility makes your chest feel light. thinking that sohee spent the last few weeks upset at the idea of losing you makes you want to smile.

sohee drops his gaze to his hands. “what are we doing here, yn?”

you lift your head from your knees and glance around the room as though the answer might be hidden somewhere between the couch cushions.

it’s almost two thirty in the morning. you’re sitting on your couch with sohee. he ran here because you texted him. he dyed his hair blonde because you told him he’d look good that way. and now he’s asking what the two of you are doing here.

you search desperately for the right answer. what does sohee want you to say? what does he want the two of you to be? would he be upset if you were honest? you don’t even know what honesty would sound like.

“we’re friends,” you try. your voice lifts at the end like a question.

sohee lets out a slow breath. you watch his shoulders sink. his eyes stay fixed on his hands. you have a feeling that was the wrong answer.

the problem is that sohee doesn’t know what answer he wanted, either. he only knows that he didn’t like that one. because how many friends do you have? how many friends make your chest hurt like this?

“was riku a friend, too?” he finally looks up at you, but something about him has closed off, just enough for you to notice. you have absolutely no idea what you’re doing.

“riku is my friend,” you say with a slow nod.

sohee reaches over and tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear before it can fall into your face. the touch is brief and gentle. you wish it lasted longer.

“but you’re a different type of friend, sohee,” you add carefully. immediately, a little brightness returns to his eyes.

“oh yeah?” his lips curl into a grin.

you nod again. you pray he doesn’t ask you to elaborate. you wouldn’t know where to begin.

“and what kind of friend is that?”

you stare at him. sohee watches you think. watches you turn the question over and over in your head like you’re afraid of choosing the wrong answer. he hopes you don’t.

“a friend who sleeps over?” you finally offer. your voice comes out small. your eyes are impossibly wide when you look at him.

for a second, sohee just stares. he hadn’t expected that answer. it feels like you’ve thrown him a rope after weeks of drowning. he refuses to let go of it.

“you can sleep over tonight, sohee.” you nod once, as if convincing yourself. you’re not sure if you’ve made the right decision. if anything, you’re pretty sure you’ve made things worse.

“okay.” sohee smiles.

he looks soft and beautiful. his hair falls into his eyes and his cheeks are still faintly pink from the run over. you want to kiss him.

“just sleep, though,” you add quickly when he starts leaning closer. his grin widens. “just sleep.” his voice drops into a whisper. “no funny business.”

when his lips begin brushing dangerously close to yours, you force yourself to turn your head away with a nervous giggle. “y’know what i’ve been thinking about lately, sohee?”

he pulls back with a disbelieving laugh. one hand comes up to rub the back of his neck. “what’s been on your mind?”

you chew on your bottom lip. your eyes stay glued to him and his pretty pink lips, the slope of his nose, and the warmth in his eyes. his blonde hair.

“i was remembering the first time we hung out.” your hand drifts into his hair automatically. “how much fun we had.” your fingers comb through the pale strands. “you’ve always been so fun.”

sohee leans into your touch without realizing it. “we still have fun.”

you shake your head. “not like before.”

a pout immediately settles onto his face. you almost laugh. he always looks offended when you criticize him, even a little.

the truth is, sohee always has fun with you. he’s having fun right now. he’d probably have fun sitting in complete silence if it meant being next to you. but he wants to make you happy. so he plays along.

“okay,” he says. “then let’s just talk tonight.” he shifts closer, resting his arm along the back of the couch behind you. “we’ll stay up like we used to.”

you raise an eyebrow. “just talk?”

“just talk and sleep.”

the smile on his face makes it very difficult to believe him. and judging by the smile slowly spreading across yours, neither of you is convinced.

it’s technically afternoon, but you wake up exactly where you wish you could every morning.

sohee spent hours talking to you and making you laugh until the sun came up. when you dozed off in the middle of a laugh, he woke you gently and guided you through your nighttime routine. the two of you washed up for bed side by side in your bathroom like you used to, and the toothbrush of his that you’d kept for weeks was finally used again.

when it was time to sleep, sohee pulled you into his chest and tucked your head beneath his chin. sleep found both of you at the same time.

sohee wakes up first. he reaches up and pats your hair softly, taking his time looking at you. you’re so pretty. even now, with sleep still clinging to your face, you look calm. happy.

he presses a kiss to your forehead and hopes you’ll allow a friend that much. this is the best sleep he’s gotten in weeks. he isn’t sure he can sleep without you anymore.

“yn,” he sings softly, barely above a whisper. just like always.

his voice drifts into your dream so naturally that you don’t realize you’re awake. your eyes flutter open to sohee. you’ve been tired for so long that you can’t quite tell the difference between dreams and reality anymore. everything feels soft around the edges.

everything feels warm. everything feels right.

“mmmm, my sohee,” you mumble, smiling sleepily. your hands find his face immediately. his skin feels awfully warm for a dream.

sohee melts beneath your touch. he leans into your palms as your thumbs brush over his cheeks and wander into his hair. his eyes soften. a smile tugs at the corners of his lips.

you don’t give him the opportunity to say anything before your lips find his.

it’s been so long since you’ve kissed sohee that kissing him in a dream feels perfectly reasonable. except this dream feels strangely real. your fingers are tangled in his hair and his lips are warm beneath yours. when you kiss him again, he kisses you back.

you’ve missed him so much. you kiss him like you might never kiss him again. for something that’s supposed to be a dream, you can feel everything, from the warmth of his mouth to the spit around your lips. when you kiss him harder, he presses your body flush against his. if you think friends can kiss, he hopes your idea of friends can do this, too. your body fits against his like it always has.

if this is a dream, you decide you don’t want to wake up yet.

eventually you pull away just enough to catch your breath. your hands drift back to his face. you brush your thumb across one of the moles on his cheek.

“i love your moles, hee,” you murmur. you lean forward and press a lingering kiss there.

“love your cute nose.” another kiss.

sohee’s heart is beating so hard he’s convinced you can hear it. he has no idea what’s happening. he doesn’t know whether you’re awake. he doesn’t know whether you know you’re awake.

he only knows that every soft confession makes him feel a little more unsteady.

your lips wander to his jaw. your fingers drift lazily over the warmth of his body. “i love…” you begin softly.

your hand slips beneath the waistband of his sweatpants.

“i love this too, but most of all…”

“yn.” his voice comes out rougher than he intends. his heart feels seconds away from bursting out of his chest.

he’s still trying to recover from your kiss, from your hands in his hair. from the way you’re looking at him. he doesn’t think you’d ever say any of this so openly if you knew exactly what was happening. and as much as he wants to hear the rest, he’s terrified of ruining whatever this is.

“good morning,” he says instead. he pulls you gently against his chest.

when your ear settles over his heartbeat, reality crashes back all at once. you remember last night on the couch and talking until sunrise. sohee ran to your apartment.

this isn’t a dream. sohee is actually here, in your bed, holding you. all you did was talk and sleep. and it was perfect.

"good morning,” you mumble. your voice is small now. “what time is it?” you make no effort to move from where you’re tucked against him. “don’t know,” he says into your hair. “didn’t want to let go of you to check.”

his heartbeat stays calm, but yours doesn’t. you think you should tell him to check. you think you should move. instead, you stay exactly where you are. it’s been so long since you’ve been held. so long since you’ve slept this well. “sohee,” you mumble against the thin fabric of his shirt. “yeah?” “i just woke up, right?”

he pauses. there’s something fragile in your voice. he already knows the answer you’re hoping for. “yeah.” you relax immediately. “okay. good.” a beat passes. “thanks.” he brushes a hand through your hair. “why do you ask?” you burrow deeper into his chest. “had a crazy dream.” your voice comes out muffled. “it felt real.”

sohee smiles into your hair. for the first time, he thinks he finally understands what this is.

eventually, the two of you climb out of bed. you brush your teeth side by side like you used to, bumping shoulders in the tiny bathroom. neither of you says much. it feels too normal, which makes it feel dangerous.

you find yourself staring at sohee’s back while he changes his shirt. at the broad slope of his shoulders. at the familiar shape of him. you look away before he catches you.

sohee wishes he didn’t have to work. he wishes he could stay here all day, in your apartment, in this strange little bubble where nobody else seems to exist, where it’s just you and him.

when he leaves, he presses a long kiss to your forehead. you look too fragile, too delicate. he almost doesn’t go.

after the door closes behind him, the apartment feels quieter than before. you return to your bed and pull the blanket over yourself. in your imagination, sohee belongs only to you. there are no other girls, uncertainty, or wondering. for twelve hours, it felt like that imaginary world had somehow become real. returning to reality hurts more than you expected.

later that day, sohee texts you. he says one of his friends is throwing a party later this week.

“yo, chill.”

after the incident about a week ago; after letting yourself freak out about it first, you became pretty content with the fact that you smashed your best friend. despite your perfectly rational fear that things would become awkward after, your friendship remained relatively normal. emphasis on relatively. however, the fact that things didn’t become awkward between you two meant there was absolutely no deterrent against doing it again…. and again, and again.

your roommate wondered why the hell you had overstayed at anton’s by like a lot of days... your friends wondered why you were either late or absent to all the recent gatherings. it was because anton was insatiable. like he couldn’t get up off you.

nestled between your open legs in his bed, anton moved his hips over yours, “i can’t help it. when you touch me, i’m instantly hard. it’s like muscle memory.”

“ou, don’t do that.” you sighed out, trying to ignore the heat pooling between your thighs, “i-i need to get— i have to meet my friends.”

he whined in response grinding down into you, “i know, i know. i won’t keep you long…”

“toni…” you knew and he that he was full of shit. but the featherlight feel of his lips brushing your neck pushed all the rational thoughts out of your head. “okay, okay, fine.”

with your permission, anton’s mouth was immediately on yours, kissing you all sloppy and holding your neck to keep you in place. slowly, he continued humping into you and you wrapped your legs around his waist, crossing them at the ankles.

“fuck, you’re so— you feel warm. i could cum like this.” anton whimpered.

you held onto his shoulder, “wait, i want you inside me…”

didn’t you have somewhere to be..?

already sitting up to strip his clothes, anton laughed, “don’t you have somewhere to be, though?”

you rolled your eyes as you started pulling down your leggings. “just— let’s just not ask questions right now.”

through hooded eyes, you watched as anton pushed his boxer briefs down, letting his dick spring up against his lower ab. you were expecting him to start teasing you. anything but the way he immediately leant down to press an open-mouthed kiss to your pussy.

“i could never get tired of doing this…”

you slid your fingers into his soft hair, tugging gently and sighing heavily. “anton, please.”

“hm? give me a second.” the sound of anton humming vibrated through his lips around your clit, making your eyes roll back. “i’m tryna get you wet for me.”

“i already am—” you whined desperately but anton continued with no remorse.

he flattened his tongue against your pussy, licking a long stripe upwards and your hips bucked into his mouth. “this pretty pussy tastes so good…” moaning against you, he pushed his tongue inside of you and with each twitch of your hips, your clit bumped against his nose. you were so overwhelmed with pleasure that you felt tears start to well up in your eyes. it took everything in him to pull away, but he was feeling like if he didn’t fuck you soon? he could die.

anton tapped his dick against your now puffy pussy lips a couple times before sliding in with comfortable ease. you immediately had to dig your nails into him. he should not have gotten you that close.

anton pressed a kiss just below your earlobe, “i’m gonna put it in, okay, baby?”

you nodded at him and he rubbed his tip against you sensitive clit before finally bottoming out inside of you with a quiet moan, immediately starting to roll his hips into yours with rhythmic ease.

“fuck, you’re wet… does it feel good?”

wrapping your legs around his waist, you nodded.

“yeah? it feels good? let me rub that clit, baby.” he sat upright on his knees, still fucking into you and started rubbing small circles on your bundle of nerves, making you cry out.

“anton—” you cut yourself off with a low moan.

“you feel so fucking good around me.” anton whined above you, “so good to me… hah.”

the sound of his hips smacking into the backs of your thighs grew louder as his thrusts be came more shallow and irregular. he was making it very clear that he was getting close.

“are you gonna cum for me, toni?” you stroked his hair and his face contorted in pure pleasure. he couldn’t answer you.

“please?” you pecked his lips and he couldn’t stop his eyes from rolling back. the tip of his dick pushing against that spongy spot inside you with each thrust had him weak. you wanted nothing more in this moment than for him to cum inside you, because you knew the noises he would make could finish you off.

anton was resilient; determined to keep going for you. he leant forwards again, shifting his weight onto his hands and expertly grinding his hips into yours. this however gave you the perfect angle to start kissing at his shoulders, the crook of his neck, his jaw, his face. he knew it was coming. or was hoping at least. anton opened his mouth slightly and again, your lips met his in a fervent kiss.

he attempted to muffle his moans against your lips but it was no use for him. he was already there. anton pulled his lips away from yours to release a string of high pitched moans and curses as his hips stuttered against you. the friction of his pelvis against your clit triggering your own orgasm.

“anton—”

“mmph.. f-fuck, i’m cumming. i’m cumming for you.” anton’s brows were furrowed in pure pleasure as he fucked his warm load into you. “fuck, baby, take my cum… just like that.”

anton’s body fell limp on top of yours. you gently dragged your nails up and down his back, laughing at the way he twitched as a result.

“toni… you sound so pretty.”

anton breathed out a shy laugh. “stop. i’m embarrassed.” he was breathless.

you let out a content sigh, allowing your eyes to dart around to the clock on your wall. yeah, no way you were making it to whatever plans you had. you were gonna have to start making up some excuse real fast because you knew this wasn’t going to be the last time this happened. nor did you want it to be.

𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚

the bass was loud enough that you felt it before the door even opened, low violent vibrations bleeding through the warped wood beneath your knuckles while somewhere inside the apartment somebody shouted over the music loud enough to earn a burst of drunken laughter immediately afterward. the hallway outside smelled faintly damp from earlier rainfall still clinging to people’s skin, though most of it disappeared the second sungchan finally pulled the door open and the heat from inside spilled outward into the corridor.

it hit your skin instantly.

thick overheated air dense with vodka fumes and sweat and whatever aggressively masculine cologne one of his friends had clearly drowned himself in, all of it tangled together beneath the stale lived-in smell the apartment permanently carried now from boys sharing one space for too long. 

instant noodles, protein powder, and cheap alcohol.

sungchan filled the doorway almost completely when he opened it, one hand still loose around the handle while the other pushed absently back through his dishevelled hair, dark strands sticking faintly against his forehead beneath the hallway light. the sleeves of his top sat shoved messily up his forearms and there was already a faint flush spread across his cheeks that suggested he’d been drinking long before you got there, though the second his eyes landed properly on you something in his expression shifted immediately anyway.

softened. brightened. like seeing you standing there had pulled his attention fully back into focus after hours spent drifting lazily through noise and alcohol.

“you made it,” he said, and even over the music there was something stupidly genuine about the relief sitting beneath the words.

his gaze moved quickly over you after that, not subtle enough to miss. the short skirt, your bare legs disappearing into boots still damp from outside, the tiny black top clinging tightly enough to your body that the silver glint of your belly piercing caught briefly beneath the flickering hallway light. you watched his throat move once before his attention snapped upward again almost immediately, the corner of his mouth pulling higher like he’d just remembered he was supposed to pretend not to stare.

“what?” you asked lightly, though your mouth had already started curving before he could answer.

“nothing,” he said too quickly, smiling wider now. “you just look—”

“you look good,” he says, voice low and scraped raw, like the words had to fight their way out. 

he swallows thickly, the pause stretching long and dangerous between you, his eyes flickering dark with thoughts that are anything but pg. the air between you already feels heavier, charged, like one move could make it spark.

“good enough to rip my clothes off?”

the words came easily, shamelessly, and the effect was immediate. sungchan’s expression faltered for half a second before a breathy laugh escaped him, his eyes dropping briefly toward the floor like he needed the second to pull himself back together.

“maybe,” he muttered eventually, though the answer sat too low and too honest beneath the music to sound convincing as a joke.

another burst of shouting erupted somewhere deeper inside the apartment immediately afterward, followed by loud drunken laughter from the kitchen, but sungchan barely seemed to register any of it anymore. his attention stayed fixed on you instead while his hand settled automatically against your waist to pull you inside, palm broad and hot, fingers spreading wide over the strip of bare skin above your skirt. the touch is deliberate, thumb brushing once, twice, slow and firm enough that heat blooms low in your belly and spreads outward in a rush. 

even after the door clicks shut behind you, he doesn’t let go. his fingers stay pressed there, warm and slightly calloused, the faint tremor in them telling you exactly how hard he’s working to stay in control. you feel the heat of his body radiating against yours, the clean scent of his cologne mixed with whiskey and something darker, something that makes your mouth water.

inside, the light slides over you again and his eyes follow it greedily, slower this time, drinking you in like he’s starving. his fingers flex once against your waist, pressing harder, almost a warning, then he leans down. the kiss he aims for your cheek lands dangerously close to the corner of your mouth instead, warm, the faint burn of whiskey on his lips and the scrape of stubble against your skin sending a sharp shiver racing down your spine. 

when he pulls back he doesn’t go far. his face hovers inches from yours, breath hot and ragged against your lips, eyes half-lidded and dark with want. you can feel the tension vibrating off him, every tight muscle coiled like a spring, the way his chest rises and falls too fast, the faint dampness of his palm where it grips you tighter.

his name cracks through the haze, loud and sharp, yelled from one of his friends in the kitchen. the voice cuts straight through the thick air like a blade, followed immediately by another burst of rowdy, drunken laughter that echoes down the hallway. sungchan’s whole body jolts just slightly, the spell fracturing. he rolls his eyes toward the ceiling, slow and annoyed, the movement pulling the strong line of his throat into sharp relief under the dim light. for a second the frustration is plain on his face, jaw tight, like the interruption physically pains him.

his hand never properly leaves your waist as he guides you further into the apartment, palm resting low against your side while he steers you through the crowded hallway with absent familiarity. the music grows louder the deeper you move inside, bass shaking low through the floor hard enough that you can feel it vibrating faintly up through the heels of your boots, while voices overlap messily from every direction at once until individual conversations become impossible to separate from the noise.

people notice sungchan bringing you in almost immediately.

not in a dramatic way, nothing in the room pauses long enough for that. but heads turn briefly as you pass through the apartment anyway, quick half-drunk acknowledgements thrown in your direction between conversations while bodies shift lazily aside to let both of you through.

“finally,” one of his friends' mutters from the couch, slouched so far back they’re practically horizontal against the cushions already. “he’s been checking his phone every five seconds.”

“shut the fuck up,” sungchan shoots back automatically, though the grin tugging briefly at the corner of his mouth ruins any actual irritation behind it.

the kitchen comes into view a second later, brighter than the rest of the apartment beneath harsh overhead lighting that exposes every smear of spilled alcohol and hands pressed into the countertops. bottles crowd almost every available surface, some half empty already, others tipped sideways beside bowls of crisps and sweets. somebody has abandoned a hoodie over one of the barstools while another person leans heavily against the fridge laughing hard enough that their entire body folds forward with it.

sungchan finally lets go of your waist only long enough to make space for you between the counter and himself, guiding you naturally toward the empty stretch of marble like he’s done it enough times before not to think about it anymore. his hand brushes lightly against your thigh as you hop up onto the counter, skirt dragging higher from the movement while the cold surface presses briefly against the backs of your legs before the apartment heat swallows the sensation almost immediately again.

sungchan moved around in the narrow space between your knees and the counter, half distracted now by the growing list of demands being thrown at him from different corners of the apartment. somebody wanted more ice, somebody else was already complaining the drinks were too weak. another voice cut through the music asking where the vodka disappeared to, followed immediately by a chorus of drunken disagreement from somewhere near the living room.

he laughed under his breath at all of it, one hand braced briefly against the counter beside your thigh while the other reached past you for another bottle, the movement forcing him close enough that the warmth coming off him pressed directly into your skin. every few seconds his attention drifted back toward you automatically anyway, like his focus kept snagging there no matter how many conversations pulled at him from the rest of the room.

the pitcher sitting on the counter beside you filled slowly while he worked, liquor splashing softly against ice beneath the music while he reached for bottles and mixers without really looking anymore, moving with the loose familiarity of somebody who’d hosted enough nights like this before. the kitchen crowded tighter around both of you with every passing minute, shoulders brushing together, people squeezing through narrow gaps behind sungchan while the apartment heat thickened steadily beneath the lights.

at some point his hand disappeared absently into the open bowl sitting beside you, fingers brushing through sweets and chocolate bars before he pulled out a lollipop between two fingers.

“strawberry’s your favourite, right?”

you nodded once.

the wrapper crinkled softly between his fingers while he unwrapped it one-handed, and when he looked back toward you again his gaze dropped automatically to your mouth first before lifting upward. something shifted briefly across his expression at the sight of the gloss still shining there beneath the kitchen light, subtle enough that you almost missed it entirely.

his hand settled beneath your chin a second later, fingers warm against your skin while he tilted your face upward slightly to push the lollipop into your mouth for you. the candy pressed sweet and artificial against your tongue immediately, and sungchan’s eyes stayed there a fraction too long when your lips closed slowly around it.

his thumb lingered briefly beneath your jaw after the lollipop disappeared between your lips, the pad of it dragging once lightly against your skin before he finally pulled his hand away again, though his gaze still hadn’t properly left your mouth yet. the music swallowed most of the room whole around you both but sungchan looked momentarily detached from all of it standing there between your knees, attention narrowing into something quieter and warmer beneath the noise.

you sucked lightly against the candy without breaking eye contact and the reaction was immediate as his throat moved once.

a quiet curse slipped from somebody behind sungchan drags his attention away from your mouth long enough for him to glance sideways again, though the faint flush spread across his cheeks had deepened noticeably beneath the kitchen lights now. 

“bro,” another voice cut through the kitchen over the music, lower and rougher around the edges from alcohol, “i think we need more paper cup—”

the words stopped halfway, sohee just pushing his way properly into the kitchen crowd when he noticed you sitting there.

his body stalled for a fraction too long near the counter, eyes lifting automatically toward sungchan first before landing on you between the harsh overhead lights and the cluttered kitchen mess around you both. messy brown hair hung loose across his forehead, slightly damp and curling faintly at the ends from the apartment heat, while the thin silver chains resting against his throat caught briefly beneath the light whenever he moved. his shirt looked wrinkled already, stretched slightly at the collar over the darker long sleeve underneath, sleeves pushed carelessly up his forearms like he’d stopped caring hours ago about fixing them properly.

for a second he said nothing at all.

his gaze moved once over the scene in front of him, sungchan standing between your legs, your skirt riding dangerously high against the counter edge before something shifted subtly across his face, tightening hard enough around the mouth and jaw to sharpen his entire expression almost instantly.

somebody squeezed loudly past him toward the fridge, shoulder knocking against his arm hard enough to jostle him slightly, but sohee barely reacted. his eyes remained fixed on the two of you another second longer while his tongue pressed once against the inside of his cheek like he was forcing something back down.

sungchan looked up first, oblivious to most of it.

“we’re out already?” sungchan asked with a laugh.

sohee’s attention finally dragged away from you then.

“yeah,” he muttered, voice flatter now than it had been when he first walked in, the words clipped short enough that even sungchan glanced at him for half a second afterward. 

whatever mood he’d been in before entering the kitchen seemed to have vanished entirely beneath the weight of seeing you there, replaced instead by something visibly restrained sitting tight across his face while he grabbed one of the abandoned cups near the sink and brought it up to his face to demonstrate.

“our friends drink like fucking alcoholics.”

sungchan laughed as he finally moved away from the space between your knees a second later, the sudden absence of him leaving the cold edge of the counter more noticeable against the backs of your thighs, legs dangling loosely over the side now while noise and movement swelled around the kitchen again to fill the gap he’d left behind.

across from you, sohee still hadn’t looked your way again.

his back was half turned while he leaned one shoulder against the counter near the stove, cup hanging loose from one hand while another guy beside him spoke animatedly about something neither of you cared enough to listen to. even from where you sat you could still see the tension sitting visibly through the line of his shoulders though, jaw set hard enough beneath the kitchen lights that the muscle there shifted every few seconds like he was grinding his teeth without realising it.

it irritated you instantly, because the sheer hostility of it had started feeling excessive at this point. every interaction with sohee carried this same unpleasant edge now, this constant sense that merely existing in the same room as you immediately worsened his mood, his responses flattening into clipped little remarks before he inevitably found some excuse to occupy himself elsewhere. the longer it dragged on the more it started getting beneath your skin too.

sungchan returned a few minutes later balancing a stack of paper cups against his chest alongside a tray of brownies somebody had apparently shoved into his hands halfway back to the counter. he dropped the cups beside the bottles before setting the tray down near you, the smell of burnt chocolate drifting upward almost immediately beneath the heat hanging thick through the kitchen.

“hungry?” sungchan asked distractedly. “we have brownies.”

your eyes drifted lazily toward the tray. one side had escaped mostly intact, but the other had darkened several shades too far, the edges bordering on charcoal while the centre remained suspiciously uneven.

“those burnt looking things are brownies?”

sungchan glanced down at the tray before laughing quietly beneath his breath.

“hey, those are the ones sohee made,” he said, already sounding halfway defensive before you’d even answered. “they’re actually good.”

you pressed your tongue slowly against the candy in your mouth before looking back toward the brownies again, unconvinced.

“i'm not putting that in my mouth.”

“you're being dramatic.”

“i'm being sensible. attempting to swallow one of those things feels like a disaster waiting to happen.”

sungchan let out a quiet breath that sounded suspiciously like the beginning of a laugh before he managed to stop it, his mouth twitching once as though he had suddenly remembered whose brownies were being discussed.

unfortunately, sohee had heard it too.

you could tell from the way his attention shifted briefly in your direction before settling elsewhere again, the reaction small enough that most people probably wouldn't have noticed it. he didn't say anything immediately. instead he reached for the vodka bottle sitting beside the sink, unscrewing the cap with slightly more force than seemed strictly necessary before pouring himself a drink. the glass knocked softly against the countertop when he set the bottle down again, his focus remaining fixed stubbornly on the task in front of him despite the fact the conversation had very clearly stopped being about brownies several seconds ago.

“crazy,” he said eventually, voice low enough that it almost disappeared beneath the bass rattling through the apartment.

his eyes lifted toward you then for the first time since entering the kitchen properly, the look in them flat and steady enough that irritation prickled immediately beneath your skin before he even finished speaking.

“i didn't realise you'd become so selective about what you chose to swallow now.”

the comment settled neatly into the space between all three of you, ugly in the way it took a moment to register properly, slipping into the conversation with the same ease as everything else that had been said that evening despite the fact it landed infinitely harder. you sungchan freezing almost immediately, small enough that nobody else would, but close enough that you felt it anyway. the way his body stalled halfway through reaching for one of the cups, the easy looseness that had been sitting across his face all night disappearing so quickly it almost felt wiped clean. even his smile dropped slightly at the corners before he looked down toward the counter instead, exhaling slowly through his nose while his fingers tightened once around the stack of cups hard enough to bend the top one inward.

“sohee,” he muttered quietly, exhaustion settling heavily beneath the warning now like this was an argument he already knew too well.

irritation flared almost immediately after the words left his mouth, sharp enough that you found yourself pulling the lollipop slowly from between your lips before you even realised you'd stopped sucking on it. the entire kitchen seemed to shift around the feeling, overcrowded, every passing shoulder an inconvenience, every burst of laughter unnecessarily loud. even the music vibrating through the apartment walls had started to feel less like background noise and more like something pressing insistently against your skull. across from you, sohee still looked infuriatingly composed despite the tension sitting visibly through every line of his body.

except he wasn’t composed at all.

you could see it now the longer you looked at him. there was a strange inconsistency to him, tiny fractures appearing beneath the surface the harder he tried to maintain it. subtle enough that nobody else in the room would have noticed but impossible to miss once your attention settled properly on him. the composure was still there, at least outwardly, but it no longer felt effortless. there was a faint rigidity to him now, an unusual awareness in the way he held himself, as though every instinct urging him to look away was being actively overruled by something stronger.

the cool indifference he wore so comfortably around everyone else had begun slipping in place, yet he kept looking at you.

being looked at by sohee always carried this unpleasant feeling you couldn’t fully explain because there was never anything impulsive or openly emotional about it. nothing softened in his face when his eyes moved over you. no awkwardness, no embarrassment, no recklessness that could be dismissed as drunkenness. if anything, the restraint made it worse because every glance felt too deliberate, dragged slowly over you with the same visible displeasure. 

your fingers curled tighter into your palm before you finally snapped.

“grow the fuck up, sohee.”

sohee lifted a cup toward his mouth instead, taking a slow swallow while his gaze stayed fixed steadily on you.

“i think,” he said eventually, voice flat enough to disappear almost completely beneath the bass, “you’ll find the one who needs some growing to do is you.”

beside you, sungchan sighed quietly through his nose, the sound almost disappearing beneath the noise filling the apartment, though you still caught it. when you glanced toward him briefly his hand was rubbing slowly at the back of his neck now, shoulders noticeably tighter than before while his gaze stayed fixed somewhere near the counter instead of either of you.

you laughed softly under your breath, the sound mean enough around the edges that sungchan’s shoulders visibly tightened beside you, clearly not a joyful sound.

“god,” you muttered, shaking your head once. “you’re such a fucking asshole.”

sohee’s mouth twitched faintly at that, though it looked closer to contempt than amusement.

“am i wrong though?”

he sounded calm saying it, certain which somehow irritated you more than if he’d shouted.

“sohee. please,” sungchan cut in quickly this time, voice lower now as his eyes flicked briefly between both of you. 

“can we not do this tonight?”

sohee said nothing else, standing there across from you with his eyes fixed steadily on your face, expression pulled tight enough now that it looked almost painful. you could practically see the argument still sitting there behind his teeth, something harsher clearly threatening to surface every time his jaw shifted faintly beneath the tension holding it shut. even the silence coming from him felt hostile somehow and every second he stood there saying nothing seemed only to make whatever was lodged beneath your ribs spread further, sinking its hooks deeper instead of loosening them.

then eventually his eyes rolled once before he took a slow breath through his nose, the kind people took when they were forcing themselves not to say something they’d regret afterward.

“whatever.”

the word came flat and clipped beneath the music before he stepped away from the counter entirely, disappearing back toward the living room crowd without another glance in your direction.

you watched him walk away, expecting some of the unpleasant energy between you to disappear with him, only to find it clinging stubbornly behind. it sat low and heavy inside your chest now, impossible to ignore, colouring everything around it. by the time he disappeared fully into the crowd you were still looking in the direction he'd gone, annoyed by him, by yourself for still thinking about him, and most of all by the fact he'd somehow managed to get the last word without saying another thing.

“he’s actually insufferable,” you muttered under your breath.

it was only then that sungchan seemed to relax beside you, something easing in him almost immediately after sohee disappeared into the crowd. the slight distraction that had lingered beneath his expression throughout the exchange finally disappeared, his focus settling properly again now that he no longer seemed caught between two opposing directions. a quiet breath left him before he stepped back into the space between your knees, one hand finding your thigh automatically while the other reached for the abandoned drink sitting beside you.

“why do you guys have to argue every two seconds?” he asked eventually, though the question sounded tired enough that it was obvious he already knew the answer somewhere beneath it and simply didn’t want to touch it directly.

you let your arms slide loosely around his shoulders, drawing him closer without really thinking about it, his familiar warmth replacing some of the agitation still buzzing unpleasantly beneath your skin. for a moment you only looked at him, taking in the faint crease still lingering between his brows, the way he seemed to be waiting for an answer he already suspected he wasn't going to get.

“i don’t know,” you mumbled lazily. “ask your guard dog.”

sungchan snorted softly beneath his breath at that, though it lacked some of the easy warmth from earlier. instead his forehead dropped briefly against your shoulder, eyes falling shut briefly as though he was allowing himself a second to decompress now. his hand remained resting against your thigh, thumb moving once in a slow absent sweep before going still again.

he stayed quiet after that, his grip resting loose against your thigh while the kitchen carried on around both of you in blurred fragments of movement and colour, conversation and music blurring together into little more than background noise. he seemed content to remain exactly where he was, leaning comfortably into the space between your knees while your fingers drifted idly through the hair at the back of his neck. after a while the exchange stopped feeling like something actively unfolding and became just another passing moment absorbed into the noise of the evening, buried beneath laughter, half-finished conversations and the restless movement of people weaving through the apartment.

and yet some unpleasant remnant of the exchange still lingered stubbornly beneath your skin, refusing to settle no matter how thoroughly you tried to ignore it.

𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚

sunlight filtered weakly through the gap in sungchan’s blinds in thin pale strips, cutting across the room in uneven bands that exposed the aftermath of last night piece by piece. clothes abandoned carelessly across the floor, one of your boots tipped onto its side near the desk, half-empty bottles crowding the nightstand beside tangled charging cables and somebody’s forgotten wallet. the air still carried the stale heaviness of alcohol soaked too deeply into fabric to disappear overnight, tangled together with the lingering warmth of sweat, detergent, and the faint musky trace of sex that clung stubbornly to the sheets beneath you.

you felt sungchan before your eyes fully opened, the weight of his body pressed heavily against your back, one arm locked tight around your waist even in sleep while one of his thighs remained hooked between yours. your body protested immediately the second consciousness returned fully, soreness blooming slow and deep in your muscles, not sharp enough to hurt but lingering everywhere in that heavy satisfying way that only came after being fucked properly.

your eyes narrowed against the stripe of sunlight falling directly across your face while somewhere beyond the bedroom walls the apartment hummed faintly with morning noise, pipes groaning softly and the low distant buzz of a refrigerator motor struggling through the silence. sungchan stirred slightly behind you when you shifted again, his grip tightening automatically on instinct before his face buried deeper into the back of your shoulder, still half asleep.

your own skin felt warm beneath the oversized shirt you’d stolen from him sometime during the night, fabric hanging loose over the bruises blooming darker now along your collarbone and thighs. even swallowing felt dry from the alcohol still lingering in your system, tongue heavy against the roof of your mouth while you stared blearily toward the ceiling another moment, letting the ache between your legs settle deeper before finally trying to pull yourself free from sungchan’s grip.

he made a low sound immediately, somewhere between a groan and complaint, eyebrows tightening without fully waking while his hand slid slowly across your waist like he was trying to keep you there even unconscious.

“where are you going,” he mumbled thickly, voice roughened by sleep, barely understandable against your shoulder.

“kitchen,” you muttered back automatically, already prying his arm loose despite the way he resisted weakly.

sungchan only sighed softly through his nose before finally letting go enough for you to slip out from beneath him, though even then his fingertips dragged lazily across your waist at the last second like his body disliked the distance instinctively. behind you the mattress dipped again when he rolled onto his back, one arm falling across his face while the sheets slipped low enough to expose the fresh red scratches streaking across his chest and shoulder from the night before.

you barely spared the sight more than a passing glance before padding toward the bedroom door barefoot, the cold wood floor biting against the lingering warmth still trapped inside your skin.

the apartment looked worse in daylight.

last night the darkness and coloured lights had hidden most of it beneath shadow and movement, but now everything sat exposed beneath the weak morning sun. sticky rings staining the coffee table where drinks had been abandoned hours ago, empty bottles lined crookedly along the kitchen counters and the general debris left behind by too many people staying up far later than they should have.

the kitchen tiles felt even colder beneath your feet when you stepped inside, the chill climbing briefly up your legs while the refrigerator hummed even louder in the silence. the fridge light spilled pale and artificial across your face the second you pulled the door open, cold air brushing across your skin while you stared blankly inside for a moment trying to decide what you actually wanted. there wasn’t much besides energy drinks, leftover takeaway containers, beer, and half-finished cartons shoved carelessly onto shelves between sauces and protein shakes.

eventually you reached for the carton of orange juice sitting near the front anyway before taking a slow drink straight from it without bothering to grab a glass first, the cold sweetness hitting your tongue sharply enough to make your face tighten slightly.

you hummed absently under your breath without really realising it while setting the juice down against the counter, fingers drifting lazily toward the fruit bowl sitting near the stove before grabbing a strawberry from where it had been abandoned among packets of crisps.

the familiarity of the apartment settled strangely easily around you.

you knew where everything was without thinking. which cabinets stuck when you pulled them too hard. where sungchan kept clean glasses because his friends never put them back properly. which side of the sink leaked if the tap twisted too far left. your body moved through the kitchen automatically, like it had done it enough times before to stop feeling unfamiliar entirely, and there was something almost invasive about how naturally you occupied the space this early in the morning while the apartment still looked half-undressed from the night before.

still chewing slowly on the strawberry, you stretched up onto your tiptoes to reach one of the higher cabinets, fingers brushing uselessly against the edge before finally nudging it open with a soft curse beneath your breath. one hand braced lazily against the counter to steady yourself as you searched blindly for the nutella jar shoved somewhere near the back shelf.

behind you came the slow shuffle of footsteps dragging across the floorboard which you barely thought about at first, presuming it was sungchan. your head turned eventually anyway, expecting to see him stumbling sleepily into the kitchen after you, still half buried in exhaustion from the night before, but the motion stalled halfway through when your eyes landed on sohee standing near the entrance instead.

his hair hung messily across his forehead in uneven dark strands, flattened strangely on one side from sleep while the rest stuck out in different directions like he hadn’t bothered trying to fix it yet. one eye remained barely open while he rubbed tiredly at it with the side of his index finger, shoulders rising and falling slowly beneath the lingering heaviness of sleep and alcohol both. he was shirtless too, grey sweatpants hanging low on his hips while the thin silver chain resting against his chest shifted faintly when he exhaled through his nose.

his gaze stayed lowered at first while he moved further into the kitchen still rubbing distractedly at his eye, clearly making his way toward the cabinets beside the sink without really thinking, but the second he finally looked up the movement stalled halfway through. his hand dropped slowly from his face while something in his expression hardened almost on instinct, shoulders pulling tighter beneath the lingering heaviness of sleep as his eyes moved over you once in silence, dragging briefly across the oversized shirt hanging loose against your body, the bruises exposed beneath the hem where your legs were still bare, the darker marks scattered visibly along your neck now that daylight exposed everything last night had blurred softer at the edges.

you watched his jaw tighten hard enough for the muscle there to flick once beneath his skin before his gaze shifted away again toward the counter instead, though whatever exhaustion had still been softening his face moments earlier seemed to disappear almost immediately afterward, replaced by that same familiar tension that always surfaced around you now, restrained but impossible to miss once you knew what to look for.

the silence stretched long enough afterward to become noticeable. you watched him open the cabinet beside the sink harder than necessary, the wood cracking sharply against the frame before settling again, and the sound seemed to linger awkwardly afterward in the already overheated kitchen.

he crossed toward the sink with that same rigid restraint threaded through every movement, like walking into the kitchen and finding you there first thing in the morning had immediately forced something sour beneath his skin that he was trying very hard not to let spill over. the tap screeched faintly when he twisted it on too hard, water crashing sharply into the glass while you stayed where you were beside the counter spreading nutella across bread in slow distracted motions, pretending not to notice the way the atmosphere in the room had shifted completely around him. five minutes ago the apartment had felt sluggish and half asleep, heavy with leftover alcohol and silence, but now the kitchen carried that same ugly tension that always seemed to bloom the second the two of you occupied the same space too long.

you could feel him behind you without looking properly. the weight of his silence settled strangely against your spine while the knife dragged another dark stripe of chocolate across the bread in your hands, your movements slowing slightly the longer he stood there refusing to speak. water dripped steadily from the bottom of his glass onto the counter after he finally lifted it to his mouth, the sound irregular and irritatingly loud against the quiet while he swallowed once, twice, lingering there beside the sink long after somebody else would have either said good morning or left the room entirely.

instead, his voice finally cut through the kitchen low and roughened by sleep.

“so is this the new thing now?”

the question landed wrong immediately. not because of the words themselves, but because of everything sitting underneath them, the irritation threaded tightly through his tone, the accusation buried beneath something that sounding dangerously close to disgust. your hand paused briefly against the bread before continuing again anyway, slower now, deliberate, not giving him an answer.

“you two are back together?” he pushed on after a while, clear that you weren't so enthusiastic to reply.

you glanced over your shoulder at him then.

he was leaning back against the sink now with one hand braced against the marble beside him. there was something rougher about him this morning than there had been the night before, the careful composure he usually carried around seeming slightly out of place against sleep-flushed skin and the faint shadow darkening beneath his eyes. under different circumstances it might even have made him look younger.

instead, it only made the look he gave you feel more honest.

“like it’s any of your business,” you answered flatly.

for a second neither of you moved. then sohee laughed quietly under his breath. the sound wasn’t amusement, it was sharper than that, bitter around the edges in a way that instantly made your shoulders tense.

“right,” he muttered, pushing himself upright again before reaching for the glass again.

“because you hanging around my kitchen every other morning wearing his clothes and helping yourself to my food apparently has nothing to do with me.”

your grip tightened around the knife automatically at the use of his words. irritation climbed hot through your chest at the sight of him standing there acting like your mere existence inside the apartment was something contaminating, like you touching the counters or opening the fridge somehow personally offended him.

you turned fully toward him then, bread still in one hand while the knife rested carelessly against your fingers.

“whatever,” you said sharply. “do you have a problem with it or something?”

sohee’s eyes settled on you properly for the first time since entering the kitchen, the question lingering between you for a moment.

you had expected the answer immediately. a sarcastic remark, an insult or some variation of the same dismissive attitude he’d been throwing at you all morning.

instead, he stayed silent.

it wasn’t a long silence, barely a couple of seconds at most, but it felt strangely significant coming from somebody who normally seemed to have an opinion ready the second your name entered a conversation. his attention remained fixed on you while the pause stretched just enough to make the absence of an answer feel like one in itself.

which, unfortunately for him, told you everything you needed to know.

“we both know i do.”

the words settled into the kitchen heavily enough that the silence afterward felt almost suffocating.

you became suddenly aware of everything at once, the sticky counter pressing faintly beneath your fingertips, the hum of the refrigerator vibrating softly through the room, water still dripping from the tap beside sohee in slow uneven intervals that sounded unnaturally loud now.

sohee stayed standing there with the empty glass hanging loose in his hand and there was something uniquely unpleasant about the composure of it all. the comment had been cruel enough on its own, but what lingered afterward felt worse somehow, because nothing about him suggested he'd spoken impulsively or regretted it the second it left his mouth. he looked exactly the same as he had before, standing there with that same unwavering certainty settled across his face, as though his dislike of you was not something he wrestled with but simply a conclusion he'd reached a long time ago and no longer felt any need to hide.

you opened your mouth to answer him, the words already sitting there ready to leave, but somewhere down the hallway came the heavy sound of footsteps dragging unevenly across the floorboards followed by the low rough scrape of a yawn, and a second later sungchan appeared in the kitchen doorway still half asleep.

he looked completely wrecked by sleep in the most predictable way possible, hair flattened messily against one side of his head, eyes narrowed against the brightness while he rubbed distractedly at his face with the heel of his palm before letting his arm fall again. he hadn’t bothered pulling a shirt on either before following you out of the bedroom, only a pair of dark sweatpants hanging low on his hips, and the second he stepped properly into the kitchen the marks left behind from the night before became impossible to miss. red scratches dragged unevenly across the broad slope of his chest and shoulder, darker bruises scattered beneath his collarbone and throat where your mouth had lingered too long hours earlier, all of it exposed carelessly beneath the harsh honesty of daylight.

his gaze found you immediately.

whatever lingering tension had settled through the kitchen seconds earlier seemed completely lost on him still, buried beneath sleep and whatever soft haze remained from waking up warm beside somebody. he crossed toward you without hesitation, movements slow and heavy with exhaustion while another yawn caught him halfway across the room.

“why’d you leave,” he mumbled, voice roughened by sleep.

before you could answer properly his arms slid automatically around your waist from behind, chest pressing warm against your back while he folded himself into your space like it was instinctive by now. the weight of him settled heavily against your shoulders while his face disappeared into the crook of your neck, breath warm against your skin before he pressed two absentminded kisses there, lazy enough to feel unconscious.

you barely reacted beyond shifting slightly against him to keep spreading chocolate across the toast balanced in your hand. the knife scraped softly over bread while sungchan stayed draped over your back, eyes probably half closed again by now judging from the way his body seemed to melt heavier against yours with every passing second. your fingers lifted automatically anyway, brushing once through the messy hair at the nape of his neck out of habit while you took a bite from the corner of the toast.

“couldn’t sleep with you crushing my organs,” you muttered around the mouthful.

sungchan laughed quietly against your neck, the sound low and tired while his mouth brushed carelessly over one of the darker marks there again.

“you're so dramatic.”

across the kitchen sohee hadn’t moved from the counter.

his eyes stayed fixed somewhere near the sink rather than directly at either of you, lingering there with an intensity that suggested the opposite wall had suddenly become the most fascinating thing in the apartment.

sungchan stood there with sleep still clinging warmly to his body, face buried against your neck while your scent lingered all over his skin and the marks from last night sat openly across his chest in front of the one person in the apartment who looked least interested in seeing them. sungchan stayed folded around you comfortably enough that the intimacy of it started feeling almost invasive beneath the silence pressing in from the other side of the room.

“jesus christ,” he muttered, voice rough with exhaustion and something meaner sitting underneath it. “you guys are disgusting.”

the words landed flatly into the kitchen air, not loud enough to qualify as a real complaint and somehow worse because of it, the kind of under-the-breath remark that sounded like it had slipped out before he could stop himself.

sungchan finally lifted his head slightly at that, sleep still lingering visibly across his face, softening the sheepish grin pulling briefly at the corner of his mouth while one arm remained looped lazily around your waist.

“sorry bro,” he mumbled, though the apology came out distracted, almost fond in the absentminded way people apologised for things they had no real intention of stopping.

a small ugly thought slipped quietly into place the second you looked at sohee properly again and saw the way his jaw locked tighter beneath the apology, the way his shoulders had gone rigid enough to sharpen the entire line of his posture while he stared fixedly at the counter instead of either of you. something about it scratched at you immediately, something deeply satisfying in watching composure crack visibly across somebody who spent so much time acting above you, disgusted by you, permanently one second away from looking at you like he regretted sharing oxygen in the same room.

suddenly you wanted to see how far it could go.

sungchan had already started pulling away again by then, attention drifting back toward the kitchen half asleep now that he’d acknowledged the comment, but before he could properly step back you caught the silver chain resting against his chest between your fingers and tugged him downward again.

the metal pressed cold briefly against your fingers while his body stumbled back toward yours on instinct, surprise flickering faintly across his face before your mouth crashed against his, hard enough to stop thought completely.

the kiss turned messy almost immediately, not slow or affectionate but excessive in a way that bordered on ugly, all wet mouths and clashing teeth and the sharp pull of the chain still wrapped around your hand while sungchan made a startled sound low in his throat before kissing you back just as hard. your toast stayed abandoned forgotten against the counter while his hands tightened instinctively around your waist again, one sliding upward against your ribs beneath the oversized shirt as the kiss deepened into something far too heavy for the middle of a quiet kitchen at nine in the morning.

when you finally pulled apart for air a second later, it happened slowly enough to feel almost deliberate. a thin string of saliva stretched briefly between your mouths before snapping apart, sungchan still close enough that his breath stayed warm against your lips while his fingers flexed harder against your waist beneath the fabric. his mouth looked swollen already, slightly parted from the force of the kiss, and for a second neither of you moved away properly, still suspended too close together in the thick stale heat hanging through the kitchen.

then you looked at sohee, really looked at him.

sohee remained where he was beside the counter, and for a second his attention seemed to catch on the sight of you still half tangled around sungchan before he remembered himself. the look lingered only briefly, yet it felt longer somehow, long enough for you to watch something dark pass across his face before he finally dragged his gaze elsewhere. whatever composure had been holding together the edges of the morning no longer looked quite as effortless as it had earlier, the disgust sitting openly across his features now in a way that felt almost impossible to misinterpret.

something about the reaction exhilarated you in a way you hadn’t expected, the sheer intensity of his visible discomfort scratching at something mean beneath your skin while the overheated kitchen seemed to close tighter around the three of you. your mouth curled faintly before you could stop it, teeth catching lightly against your lower lip while sohee’s expression hardened further at the sight, and before the silence had time to settle properly again your fingers tightened around sungchan’s chain once more as you pulled him back down toward you.

this kiss deepened immediately, slower this time, but somehow worse for it.

your mouth opened against his without hesitation while sungchan let out another low sound that disappeared into the kiss itself, hands tightening harder around your waist as your fingers drifted downward beneath the oversized shirt, brushing dangerously close to the waistband of his sweatpants. not enough to actually touch him there, but enough that his breathing faltered faintly against your mouth anyway, his body reacting on instinct while the kiss grew heavier, wetter, excessive enough that the entire thing started feeling deliberately uncomfortable beneath the silence hanging through the kitchen.

across the room, sohee shoved himself away from the counter so abruptly the empty glass beside him tipped sideways with a sharp crack against the marble, the sound slicing cleanly through the thick silence hanging in the kitchen and finally pulling sungchan away from your mouth.

the kiss broke messily, slowly, sungchan staying close enough that his breath still lingered warm against your lips while one of his hands remained spread beneath the oversized shirt at your waist. confusion flickered briefly across his face first before the sluggish embarrassment followed behind it, his eyes shifting toward the counter where sohee had already moved away from the sink.

“bro, i—”

the apology barely made it halfway out before sohee cut straight through it by moving again.

he crossed the kitchen too quickly, every movement carrying that same tightly restrained sharpness that had been sitting beneath his skin since walking into the room and finding you there. he grabbed the fallen glass from beside the sink without looking toward either of you once, shoving it upright beneath the tap while water rushed noisily into it. sohee stood there with his back half turned, one hand flattening briefly against the front of his sweatpants near the waistband before dropping away again almost immediately.

sungchan shifted slightly behind you now, finally seeming awake enough to recognise properly that the atmosphere in the kitchen had curdled into something deeply uncomfortable while he stood caught awkwardly in the middle of it. you could feel the hesitation settle through him in the way his grip loosened fractionally at your waist, torn somewhere between lingering embarrassment and the instinctive need to smooth things over before they escalated further.

but sohee clearly had no interest in helping him do that.

he drained the glass of water too quickly before shoving it back into the sink with another dull clatter, still refusing to look directly at either of you while he reached for the hoodie hanging over one of the kitchen chairs. he dragged it over his head in one rough motion, messy hair catching briefly beneath the fabric before stepping toward the hallway again, his voice cut low through the kitchen without him bothering to turn around.

“you guys make me sick.”

the words landed heavily enough to seem to settle into the walls themselves, sungchan going still behind you for a second after that, caught halfway between guilt and frustration while sohee disappeared down the hallway without waiting for a response, the sound of his bedroom door shutting a moment later muffled but firm enough to linger afterward in the silence.

the apartment felt strangely hollow once he was gone, not calmer, just empty.

the tap still dripped steadily into the sink beside the abandoned glass and somewhere behind you sungchan exhaled softly through his nose before letting his forehead drop briefly against your shoulder. you could already feel him trying to think through whatever had just happened, trying to rearrange it into something smaller and less uncomfortable than it actually was, but your attention stayed fixed on the hallway instead, on the lingering echo of sohee’s reaction and the sharp ugly thrill that still sat curling low in your chest because of it.

𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚

a week later, exhaustion had settled so deeply into your body that it no longer arrived in waves anymore. it simply existed there constantly, stitched into your muscles and behind your eyes, dragging everything slightly out of focus no matter how much caffeine you poured into yourself to fight it.

by the time you finally submitted the essay for your literature class due that morning, your brain already felt half rotten from lack of sleep, thoughts moving sluggishly beneath the fluorescent glow of the lamp in your room after spending most of the night switching uselessly between half-written paragraphs and sungchan’s mouth whenever he distracted you from working long enough to pull you back into bed.

college had started feeling like that lately. not difficult exactly, just repetitive in a way that slowly hollowed the days into each other until everything blurred together into the same cycle of unfinished assignments, energy drinks, overcrowded lecture halls and sleeping far too little before forcing yourself awake to do it all over again.

by noon your entire body ached with tiredness. two empty energy drink cans sat crushed inside your tote bag alongside crumpled snack wrappers and loose sheets of annotated readings you hadn’t touched properly in days, and every sound around you felt louder than it should have beneath the dull headache pressing steadily behind your temples. conversations overlapped endlessly through the hallways outside the lecture theatres, hundreds of voices bleeding together beneath squeaking trainers against polished floors and the constant buzz of phones vibrating across desks, while groups of students drifted lazily between classes clutching iced coffees.

you barely registered most of it anymore while making your way through campus, shoulders heavy beneath your bag as another cold gust of wind followed students in through the automatic doors, dragging yourself toward the cafeteria.

the place was already packed when you stepped inside, tables crowded with half-open laptops, untouched salads, coffee cups balanced dangerously close to lecture notes. your eyes found your friends near the middle of the cafeteria almost immediately.

mina spotted you first. her entire face twisted the second you approached the table, somewhere between concern and outright disbelief before she burst into laughter loud enough to make chaewon glance up from her phone too.

“oh my god,” chaewon snorted, shoving her tray slightly aside to make room for your bag when you reached them.

“you look actually dead.”

you dropped into the empty chair beside them without even bothering to answer properly, letting your forehead fall heavily against the cool surface of the table with a groan muffled into crossed arms.

“don’t talk to me,” you muttered weakly. “if anybody speaks too loudly near me i might genuinely throw up.”

jiwon laughed from across the table while tearing open another ketchup packet. the sugary iced coffee chaewon pushed toward you smelled almost painfully sweet when it landed beside your elbow.

still, you took it immediately.

your fingers curled around the cold plastic cup while the girls slipped easily back into conversation around you, gossip bleeding between complaints about assignments and lectures in the effortless way it always did whenever the four of you ended up together between classes. 

“what time did you even go to bed this time?” jiwon asked eventually, watching you with the same mixture of concern and judgement people usually reserved for raccoons digging through bins at three in the morning.

you didn’t even bother lifting your head properly from the table when you answered.

“that’s presuming i went to bed.”

“maybe,” mina started, carefully setting her coffee cup down, “if you spent less time fucking sungchan and more time actually doing the work assigned to you, you wouldn’t constantly look like you’re on the verge of death.”

jiwon gasped immediately despite the smile pulling at her mouth while chaewon nearly choked on one of her fries, shoulders shaking with laughter as you lifted your middle finger weakly in response.

“it’s for health reasons,” you muttered flatly.

“stress is bad for the body. what am i supposed to do when i need tension relief? obviously i get fucked by sungchan.”

“yeah but every other night?” she shot back. “surely you’re not that stressed.”

“you’d be surprised.”

mina stared at you another second before something visibly clicked behind her eyes, and then suddenly she was folding over the table cackling so hard she could barely get the words out properly.

“wait—” she wheezed, grabbing jiwon’s sleeve for support while laughing harder. “oh my god, sungchan’s literally just your stress ball. no, seriously, think about it. because he has balls and i bet you squeeze those when you’re stressed too—”

chaewon nearly slammed her forehead into the table laughing while jiwon shouted a sharp “mina!”, loud enough to draw annoyed glances from another table nearby, but you only rolled your eyes despite the smile tugging faintly at your mouth now.

“laugh all you want,” you muttered. “you’re just bitter because jaehyun got a girlfriend and now you can’t call him every weekend to dick you down anymore.”

her smile faltered into exaggerated offence while the others burst into louder laughter at her expense this time, and she pointed at you with a deeply wounded expression plastered across her face.

“that’s a touchy subject actually,” she informed the table solemnly. “i’m still in mourning.”

“thoughts and prayers,” you replied dryly before taking another sip of coffee.

“i do wish i had a sungchan though,” she admitted after a second. “like objectively speaking, it must be nice having somebody that obsessed with you. and he's good in bed.”

“it is,” you answered easily, stretching back slightly in your chair now that the caffeine had finally started hitting your bloodstream.

“when he’s not being emotional about everything. i swear every time we fuck he starts talking about how much he misses me or how i’m the love of his life or whatever.”

“this pussy must genuinely be made out of gold,” you finished with a shrug.

“ENOUGH.”

“oh my god, please shut up.”

“nobody asked for this.”

you only laughed this time, slower and more awake now while mina stared across the table looking personally offended.

“oh,” chaewon muttered suddenly, eyebrows lifting faintly. “speak of the devil.”

you frowned before turning slightly in your seat, following her line of sight across the room.

sungchan had just stepped into the cafeteria, one hand hooked loosely around the strap of his bag while the other pushed distractedly through his hair as though he’d only just dragged himself awake properly within the last hour. people greeted him constantly without seeming to think about it and sungchan slowed for everyone without ever seeming irritated by it.

he reached the table a few minutes later, dropping his bag carelessly beside the empty chair nearest to you before leaning down automatically, one hand brushing lightly against the back of your seat as his mouth pressed briefly against your cheek in greeting.

“you look exhausted,” he murmured quietly.

“i am exhausted.”

his laugh stayed low beneath the surrounding cafeteria noise while he straightened again, finally acknowledging the rest of the table with an easy nod.

“hi.”

greetings circled back casually enough between your friends and him, familiar and brief after two years of watching sungchan orbit in and out of your life in one form or another.

the conversation flowed back into itself after that, with the same careless familiarity that always seemed to exist whenever your friends gathered together long enough between lectures. chaewon had already started complaining again about one of her professors assigning another reading packet nobody intended to finish while jiwon scrolled halfheartedly through her calendar trying to figure out when exactly all of her deadlines had become impossible to keep track of. beside you sungchan stole fries from mina’s tray with the kind of absent entitlement that suggested he’d been doing it for years.

absentmindedly, your eyes wandered around the room, stopping on two girls near the vending machines. you recognised one of them properly now that you looked longer, dark hair tucked behind one ear while she leaned lazily against the wall listening to the other girl speak. 

yuna.

you’d seen her around enough times through sungchan’s wider social circle to place her immediately, usually lingering around parties with some of sohee’s friends or sitting near them during campus events. not close enough to matter personally, but familiar enough.

and now she was looking directly toward your table in brief glances threaded between conversation, her attention flicking toward sungchan beside you before shifting quickly back toward the girl she was talking to. the other girl noticed it too eventually, following yuna’s gaze until both of them looked toward your table at the exact moment sungchan leaned closer to steal the iced coffee from your hand without asking first.

normally you probably wouldn’t have thought much of it. people knew sungchan and they looked at sungchan all the time. still, something about the exchange sat strangely with you anyway, even after your attention returned to the conversation unfolding around the table.

beside you, sungchan remained completely oblivious to any of it.

mina slapped his hand away for what was probably the fourth time after catching him reaching across the table to steal another fry from her tray, and the sound of his laugh slipped easily into the noise of the cafeteria while he leaned back in his chair.

“you genuinely eat like somebody raised in captivity,” mina informed him flatly while dragging her tray farther out of his reach.

“you’ve eaten more of my food than your own.”

“sharing builds community.”

“i don’t want to build a community with you, dimwit.”

sungchan only grinned at that, slow and unbothered, before his knee knocked lightly against yours again beneath the table. then, from the corner of your eye, movement caught your attention again.

yuna had started walking toward your table. the girl beside her followed half a step behind while yuna adjusted the sleeve of her sweater absently, gaze fixed toward sungchan now with the casual confidence of somebody approaching a conversation she expected to slide into easily. 

“hey,” yuna greeted once she reached the table, voice light while the girl beside her hovered quietly near her shoulder. 

most of her attention settled on sungchan immediately, though not naturally enough to completely disguise the awareness sitting underneath it. you caught it anyway in the brief flickers of her gaze toward you and back again, the slight hesitation before speaking, like she was trying to navigate around something awkward without fully understanding where the awkwardness had even come from in the first place.

sungchan looked up first, expression easing easily into recognition. “oh, hey yuna. minji.”

“we’re still doing minseok’s party tomorrow,” she said. “you’re coming, right?”

“probably,” sungchan answered. “i completely forgot that was this weekend.”

“you disappeared halfway through the last one,” minji added with a laugh. “you still owe yuna for abandoning her during beer pong.”

sungchan smiled faintly beneath the accusation, rubbing absently at the back of his neck.“i had an early class the next day. i couldn't stay up late like the rest of you guys.”

“sure,” yuna replied, clearly unconvinced.

the smile pulling at her mouth lingered a second longer before she shifted the coffee cup between her hands and looked back at him properly.

“well, you can make it up to me tomorrow.”

“how?”

“show up before everyone else for once.”

the answer came easily enough that it almost sounded rehearsed.

“i'm serious. everybody always turns up late anyway.” her head tilted slightly toward him. “come early with me. we can get drinks before the place gets packed and i'll decide whether i've forgiven you yet.”

there was nothing overtly inappropriate in the suggestion itself. if anything, the confidence behind it was what made it obvious. the assumption that he would say yes, that there was room for the question in the first place.

the shift in sungchan happened almost immediately afterward, the easy openness he'd greeted her with moments earlier tightened faintly around the edges while his eyes flicked instinctively toward you before returning to her again, like he'd noticed that this conversation was no longer socially neutral.

“uh,” he started, laughter slipping awkwardly beneath his breath while one hand settled loosely against the side of your chair near your waist.

“i was actually planning on going with them.”

his gaze drifted briefly toward you.

“and honestly i don't think y/n would be too happy if i disappeared with somebody else before the party.”

his tone stayed gentle throughout it, apologetic almost, the kind of soft rejection only somebody like sungchan could deliver without making the other person feel openly embarrassed. still, the effect landed immediately.

you watched confusion surface visibly across yuna’s face before she could smooth it away. not jealousy, not even annoyance, just genuine confusion.

minji looked between you and sungchan too now, expression faltering slightly as though the picture sitting in front of her no longer matched the version she’d been carrying around beforehand.

“oh,” she said slowly. “i didn’t realise you guys were..”

the silence that followed settled thickly across the table, because at the exact same moment sungchan answered, you did too.

“we’re not—”

“we’re figuring things out.”

the overlap cut awkwardly through the middle of the conversation before collapsing into silence all over again, and beside you sungchan immediately stopped speaking while minji visibly realised she’d stepped into something far messier than she’d originally intended approaching the table.

“sorry,” she corrected quickly. “i just thought—”

she hesitated briefly, eyes flicking toward yuna before continuing automatically.

“but that’s not what sohe—”

yuna reacted instantly.

“we should go,” she interrupted sharply over the end of the sentence, fingers catching lightly around her friend’s wrist before she could finish whatever she’d been about to say. awkwardness had started creeping visibly into both their expressions now, discomfort spreading fast.

they were leaving before anybody else could properly respond, disappearing back into the noise of the cafeteria while the strange heaviness left behind stretched across the table in their absence.

mina was the first one to break the silence.

“i’ll give you five bucks right now,” she muttered flatly, watching the two girls retreat across the cafeteria, “if sohee’s not the one feeding people bullshit about the two of you."

the mention of his name landed unpleasantly in the middle of your chest, like a match against something already overheated.

you felt it almost instantly, that ugly flare of annoyance twisting sharper beneath your ribs now that the pieces had finally started arranging themselves properly together.

lee sohee. of course it was him. it had to be.

across from you, chaewon rolled her eyes faintly before leaning back into her chair with an expression somewhere between disbelief and exhaustion.

“that guy genuinely needs psychiatric help,” she muttered. “like actually.”

“honestly, at this point i'd be more surprised if it wasn't.”

“guys,” sungchan cut in quietly, the discomfort finally visible now in the slight tension pulling between his brows. “why would sohee even be talking about us?”

mina turned toward him so quickly it almost made you laugh.

“sungchan.”

“what?”

“you cannot be serious.”

“i am serious,” he answered, though the confidence behind it already sounded weaker now.

“because he hates her,” chaewon replied flatly, gesturing vaguely toward you. “have we all forgotten that?”

“okay,” sungchan sighed, rubbing tiredly at the back of his neck. “he doesn't like her. we all know that. but that's completely different from him going around talking about us to random people.”

“is it?” mina asked.

the question hung there for a second.

“because yuna didn't act like somebody taking a shot in the dark. she acted like somebody who thought she had a genuine chance.”

“we were broken up for a while,” sungchan replied, though there was already less certainty behind it than before. “people know that.”

“and now we're not,” you said flatly.

sungchan's eyes flicked toward you.

“that's not—”

“then what exactly is it?” irritation slipped into your voice before you could stop it. “because she seemed pretty comfortable asking you to ditch me and go drink with her alone.”

“i'm just saying i don't think sohee would do something like that.”

“really?" mina asked with a lifted eyebrow.

“i don't know,” he said after a moment, quieter now. “i just think there's probably another explanation.”

nobody at the table looked particularly convinced, least of all you.

there was something deeply violating about the assumption sitting underneath it all in a way you struggled to articulate properly even to yourself. the knowledge that somebody who already looked at you with such obvious contempt had apparently spent enough time talking about your private life for it to start leaking outward into other social circles entirely.

you did not care whether people thought you and sungchan were serious. you did not even particularly care whether people thought the situation between you was messy. what you cared about was the fact your business had somehow stopped being yours.

beside you, sungchan shifted slightly in his chair before his hand brushed lightly against your knee beneath the table, tentative enough to feel almost cautious now. you could tell he was trying to smooth things over before they became something uglier, trying to keep the fragile balance he always seemed desperate to maintain between you and sohee from cracking open completely in front of him.

but the frustration had already rooted itself too deeply by then to disappear so easily, sitting low and heavy, simmering steadily beneath your skin in a way that refused to cool no matter how much you tried brushing it aside afterward.

it lingered long after the conversation moved on. through the rest of your lectures while your attention drifted uselessly between powerpoint slides and unfinished notes. through the walk back to your apartment afterward. through the messages mina kept sending later that evening complaining about sohee on your behalf. 

it followed you all the way through to the next evening in quiet irritating waves, your apartment slowly filling with noise as music vibrated low through the walls as you all got ready for minseok's party. makeup products cluttered every available surface around your vanity, tangled necklaces mixed between half-zipped bags and abandoned hair clips while the sharp smell of perfume and setting spray settled thickly through the room beneath the heat coming from your curling iron left running against the counter.

outside the windows the city glowed softly beneath the darkening sky, headlights smearing into blurred ribbons of white and gold against rain-damp streets while somewhere below your apartment building groups of students drifted between bars and pre-drinks wrapped in jackets against the cold. 

usually the ritual of getting ready helped smooth you back into yourself again. there was something easy about nights like this most of the time, sitting cross-legged on the floor while mina argued loudly about outfits she claimed to hate five minutes after choosing them herself, chaewon stealing your lip gloss without asking, jiwon stretched across your bed scrolling absentmindedly through playlists trying to find music everyone agreed on.

but tonight your patience felt thinner than usual. annoyance sat there stubbornly, dull and oppressive and impossible to ignore no matter how many times you tried pushing the entire situation to the back of your mind.

you stood in front of the mirror dragging eyeliner carefully along your lashline while mina hovered behind you trying to clasp your necklace into place with noticeably declining patience.

“hold still,” she complained.

“i am holding still.”

“you keep moving your head.”

“because you’re yanking my shoulder off.”

mina clicked her tongue in annoyance before finally managing to fasten the necklace properly. “there. god. you act like a difficult toddler.”

you fell quiet, turning back to your hair as sohee's name surfaced again, mina’s earlier jokes about committing acts of violence against him still sitting somewhere in the back of your head.

behind you, chaewon glanced up from where she sat curled against the edge of your bed adjusting the strap of her heel.

“if he says one weird thing to you tonight i’m throwing my drink at him.”

“please don’t,” jiwon sighed from the pillows. “i don’t wanna get kicked out just because drunk chae wants to get activated.”

“why are we acting like i’m the problem? he’s literally evil. spawn of satan even."

despite yourself, a small laugh escaped through your nose at that.

the sound of the apartment buzzer cut briefly through the music, jiwon glancing up first from where she sat cross-legged near the end of your bed.

“that’s probably sungchan,” she said, pushing herself up from the mattress while smoothing down the front of her skirt.

“finally. if mina keeps changing outfits we’re genuinely never leaving this apartment.”

“i heard that,”mina shouted from somewhere inside your bathroom.

the apartment door opened less than a minute later followed by the low murmur of voices drifting faintly down the hallway before footsteps approached your bedroom. you barely looked up at first, attention fixed on the careful line of lip liner gliding across your mouth through the mirror before giving him a glance and he looked good tonight, annoyingly good, honestly.

the black shirt stretched cleanly across his chest and shoulders beneath the leather jacket hanging open against his frame while silver glinted softly at his throat from the chain resting against his skin. his jeans sat low against his hips in that careless way that somehow only made him look broader, longer, and hanging loosely from one of the belt loops near his thigh was the small basketball charm you’d bought for him months ago during one of those stupid little shopping trips neither of you had even planned on turning into a date at the time. you had forgotten about it entirely until now.

“damn,” he laughed quietly, gaze moving over the disaster zone of makeup and clothes covering nearly every surface. 

“it looks like a war zone in here.”

he greeted the others easily enough, exchanging quick familiarities. through all of it you barely shifted from the mirror, still smoothing carefully along the edge of your bottom lip while the conversation blurred softly together behind you.

warmth settled suddenly against your back. sungchan’s hands slid loosely around your waist from behind while he leaned forward enough for his chin to rest against your shoulder, the weight of him familiar and heavy.

“hi,” he murmured quietly.

you hummed absently in response without pausing your makeup, continuing to blend the edge of the liner with your fingertip while his hold around your waist tightened slightly for a second like he was trying to pull himself a little closer.

the shift in him afterward was subtle as he straightened slightly behind you before one of his hands slipped upward from your waist. his fingers brushed lightly along your jaw before hooking gently beneath your chin, angling your face back toward him until your eyes finally met his properly through the mirror. up close, the concern sitting beneath his expression became easier to read, softened into the slight pull between his brows and the careful way his gaze searched yours like he was trying to gauge what mood he had walked into tonight before deciding how to handle it.

“you’re still mad at me."

you rolled your eyes faintly, though not with much real energy behind it. “i’m not mad.”

the corner of his mouth twitched slightly at that like he did not believe you for even a second. his thumb brushed once absently beneath your jaw while he continued watching you, warm and patient in that way that normally made it impossible to stay irritated with him for very long.

behind you mina made a loud disgusted noise from somewhere near the bed, complaining dramatically about the two of you, but neither of you paid much attention to her. the previous night still sat unpleasantly between you both, unresolved in that quiet lingering way arguments sometimes became when neither person felt strongly enough to keep fighting but neither fully let the irritation go either.

the argument itself had not even been particularly serious in hindsight. sungchan had done what he always did whenever things involving sohee started turning ugly, trying to soften the situation before it escalated any further while you grew increasingly annoyed by how determined he seemed to be to keep the peace no matter who ended up frustrated in the process. he had told you people talked all the time, that you were blowing things out of proportion and to not let it get to you so much.

“i just think you’re letting it bother you too much,” he said carefully after a moment, voice quieter now beneath the music still playing through the apartment.

“people say stupid shit all the time, it doesn’t matter as long as we know what the truth is.”

you reached automatically for your lipgloss again before answering, twisting the lid of the tube open slower than necessary while irritation curled low and unpleasant through your chest all over again. 

“yeah,” you replied coolly, finally meeting his eyes through the mirror once more, “and your best friend seems to enjoy giving them material.”

the discomfort crossing his face afterward appeared immediately, something close to exhaustion, like he could already feel the conversation slipping toward the same place it always did whenever sohee became involved somehow. around the room the others fell quieter without meaning to.

"you sure love defending him too."

“i’m not defending him,” sungchan said softly after a second.

a quiet laugh escaped through your nose before you twisted the lipgloss shut harder than necessary and finally turned properly toward him now, the movement forcing him to take half a step back to make room between your bodies.

“you always say that right before defending him.”

something flickered faintly across his face at that. it was the exact same expression he used to wear during arguments toward the end of your relationship, back when every disagreement somehow managed to stretch itself across entire days because sungchan could never stop himself from trying to keep everybody happy at once. even when things between you had already started rotting quietly beneath the surface, he still approached conflict the same way every single time, desperate to smooth rough edges down before anybody could get hurt badly enough to leave permanent damage behind. 

arguments with him never burned hot and fast. they dragged, lingered, turned into exhausted half-conversations at three in the morning and careful apologies neither of you fully meant just because sungchan hated tension enough to keep trying to fix it long after there was anything left worth fixing.

you could already feel this conversation threatening to become the same thing if it continued.

sungchan exhaled quietly through his nose, gaze dropping briefly toward the floor before lifting back toward you again. he opened his mouth like he was about to explain himself further, probably something measured and reasonable and endlessly diplomatic that would only irritate you more the longer he spoke, but before either of you could continue, chaewon abruptly stepped between the two of you holding out a shot glass toward your chest with the exhausted expression of somebody interrupting children mid argument.

“absolutely not,” she announced flatly while pressing the drink into your hand. 

“whatever weird divorced energy this is can wait until after the party."

the interruption broke the tension just enough for the room to loosen around the edges again. 

sungchan finally gave up on whatever he had been about to say, rubbing tiredly at the back of his neck before reaching automatically for your jacket instead. you tipped the shot back in one swallow, cheap alcohol burning sharply down your throat as everybody finally started gathering their things to leave.

by the time you had arrived near minseok’s house the alcohol had softened the edges of your mood slightly. the drive over had dissolved mostly into overlapping noise from the girls in the backseat arguing over music and shouting half-drunk stories over one another while sungchan drove with one hand loose against the steering wheel, city lights sliding in blurred streaks across the sharp angles of his face every time another car passed in the opposite direction.

the party was already spilling halfway out onto the street by the time you got there.

music thundered loudly enough that you could feel the bass vibrating through the pavement before you even stepped fully out of the car, warm bodies crowding the front lawn in loose clusters beneath strings of coloured lights. the sharp earthy smell of weed already bleeding thickly into the cold night air before you even reached the front door and inside felt worse, hotter.

the kind of suffocating heat that only existed inside overcrowded college parties where too many bodies had been packed together for too many hours already, sweat and cheap alcohol settling heavily into the air beneath flashing strobe lights that painted everything in brief violent bursts of colour. 

mina grabbed your wrist almost immediately after stepping inside so nobody lost each other in the crowd, chaewon following close behind while sungchan stayed automatically at your back guiding you through the bodies pressing shoulder to shoulder around the entrance hallway. every few steps somebody stopped him to say hello, and each time he responded easily enough before turning back toward your group again almost immediately.

within the first twenty minutes the party had already started dissolving your group apart in the same natural way it always did once enough alcohol and noise got involved. chaewon disappeared first after loudly announcing she was “finding something stronger before she developed sobriety,” vanishing somewhere toward the kitchen with a determined expression and mina immediately yelling after her not to accept mystery jungle juice from engineering students again. not even five minutes later mina herself had dragged jiwon toward the centre of the living room where people were already dancing with the kind of reckless commitment usually reserved for much later in the night, disappearing quickly into the shifting crowd before either of them could be talked out of it.

you let them go without much thought. honestly, all you really wanted at that point was to get drunk enough for your brain to finally quiet down. the irritation from the past two days still lingered stubbornly and the more you tried not to think about it, the more it kept circling back anyway, ugly in its persistence.

so instead you drank. a vodka soda somebody shoved into your hand near the kitchen. half of mina’s drink that she had abandoned on the counter you leaned against. another shot pressed into your palm by somebody you vaguely recognised from one of your classes.

after a while the alcohol began settling properly into your bloodstream, loosening something inside you. your body felt lighter than it had earlier, thoughts moving a little slower around the edges while warmth lingered steadily across your cheeks. every now and then you caught yourself swaying slightly when you stopped moving for too long, the room never quite spinning but shifting just enough beneath your feet to remind you exactly how much you'd already had to drink.

eventually you ended up leaning against the wall near the entrance to the kitchen, momentarily removed from the worst of the crowd while taking another slow sip from your drink. from there you could still see sungchan not too far away across the room, trapped in conversation with two guys from the volleyball society while somebody else kept trying unsuccessfully to pull him into a drinking game happening near the kitchen island.

after another few minutes sungchan finally seemed to escape whatever conversation had trapped him across the room. not that it made much difference at first. people still kept stopping him on the way back, brief interruptions stretching what should have been a simple walk across the room into something noticeably longer. from where you stood, half distracted by the vodka settling warmly through your bloodstream, the whole thing felt oddly familiar. sungchan had always moved through rooms like that, never quite belonging entirely to himself once enough people were around.

“hey,” sungchan said once he stopped in front of you, voice lowered instinctively now that he was close enough not to shout over the music.

his hand settled automatically against the small of your back while he spoke, fingers spreading lightly over the exposed skin there before his thumb started moving in slow absentminded circles against one of the dimples near your spine. standing this close, the rest of the room seemed to narrow around him until most of what you could see was leather, broad shoulders and the line of his chest. his leather jacket smelled faintly like alcohol and cologne, warmth radiating from him strongly enough after spending the last hour moving through overcrowded rooms that it almost clung against your skin too.

for a few seconds neither of you really said anything while the crowd shifted around you in restless waves, then sungchan’s mouth twitched slightly.

“no dancing on tables tonight?”

despite yourself, a brief grin pulled at your mouth before you tipped your head back lightly against the wall behind you.

“definitely not in minseok’s apartment,” you answered dryly. “god knows what’s been done on that counter.”

the laugh that escaped him came easy, low and genuine enough to pull a quieter one from you too before the sound dissolved naturally back into the chaos around you. afterward the moment softened slightly into something quieter between the two of you, sungchan still standing close while his eyes searched your face more carefully now that you had finally smiled at him properly for the first time all evening.

“and us?” he asked after a moment, voice gentler now beneath the noise surrounding you. “we’re okay?”

instead of answering immediately, you lifted the drink toward your lips only to realise the cup was empty, ice knocking quietly against the plastic while your gaze drifted briefly somewhere over his shoulder.

there was no point dragging this out anyway.

sungchan was not your boyfriend anymore, and the entire reason the two of you had slipped into this strange undefined limbo in the first place was specifically to avoid situations like this, avoid expectations and conversations and the slow exhausting feeling of slipping back into old habits that demanded far more emotional investment than you actually wanted to give him. the relationship had already died once beneath the weight of too many unresolved fractures.

so you just placed the empty cup into his hands instead.

“we will be if you get me a refill.”

something visibly eased across his face at that, subtle but immediate enough for you to catch it anyway.

“one vodka lemonade,” he said while lifting the cup slightly in acknowledgment, “coming right up.”

then he gave a stupid little salute that made you snort quietly beneath your breath before finally stepping away from in front of you and disappearing back toward the kitchen, the crowd parting around his broad frame as your eyes followed him automatically across the room.

halfway toward the kitchen, he spotted sohee. you noticed the recognition immediately in the way sungchan’s pace shifted slightly before he angled naturally toward the opposite side of the room, one hand still holding your empty cup while he lifted the other briefly in greeting across the crowd.

and that was when you saw sohee properly for the first time that night.

the irritation that had been sitting stubbornly for the past two days seemed to sharpen immediately the second your eyes landed on him, spreading through your body in a way that felt almost physical. it settled low beneath your ribs before unfurling slowly outward, hot enough that your chest burned with it.

he stood near the corner of the living room beside one of the speakers, half-leaning back against the wall with a drink hanging loose from his fingers. the heat inside the house had softened him slightly around the edges compared to the version of him you usually saw, dark blond hair messier now where either his own hands or somebody else’s had clearly pushed through it repeatedly throughout the night, strands falling low across his forehead.

the black sleeveless top he wore clung close enough to show the lean definition of his torso beneath it, exposing toned arms already lightly flushed from alcohol while low-rise jeans hung carelessly against narrow hips secured with a dark belt sitting loose enough for the white waistband of his calvin klein boxers to become briefly visible whenever he shifted position or laughed.

and worst of all, he looked comfortable. comfortable enough that something about it felt almost disorientating to witness after months of dealing with the version of him that existed only around you, all cold silences and passive cruelty and sharp little comments designed to poison the atmosphere the second you walked into it.

right now none of that seemed visible anywhere on him. he was laughing quietly at something sungchan said after finally reaching him, shoulders loose while one of his friends shoved hard against his arm and nearly knocked the drink from his hand entirely. instead of snapping like you half expected him to, sohee only laughed again before pushing back at the guy’s chest while the rest of the group crowded around them shouted drunkenly over the music.

you hated that, hated the sharp imbalance of it. hated the fact that you had spent hours replaying unfinished sentences and ugly implications in your head while he apparently moved through life untouched by any of it.

it made something bitter curl tighter inside your chest.

almost like sungchan could physically feel the weight of your stare from across the room and suddenly remembered why he had walked away from you in the first place, his expression shifted slightly. he glanced back toward where you stood against the wall before nodding once toward the kitchen with his head, lifting your empty cup briefly in indication that he was finally going to get the refill he had promised you.

instinctively, your gaze found sohee again, almost before you properly realised you were searching for him, some part of you already anticipating the familiar shift that usually happened whenever he noticed your presence somewhere nearby. over the past few months you had become used to it despite yourself, the visible hardening that entered his expression the second his eyes landed on you, the subtle tightening through his shoulders and jaw, the way entire rooms seemed to cool several degrees whenever the two of you occupied the same space for too long.

but nothing happened.

even after sungchan stepped away, sohee never looked in your direction. he remained where he was near the speaker, one shoulder resting lazily against the wall while conversation continued around him, answering whatever was being said with the same easy familiarity as before without once glancing across the room.

your jaw tightened faintly while you continued staring across the room longer than you probably should have. from this distance it would have been impossible for him not to know you were there. sungchan had literally just walked away from your side moments earlier. there was no realistic way sohee had somehow failed to notice that.

which meant he was choosing not to look.

after all the hostility and sharp silences and passive cruelty that seemed to follow him every time the two of you ended up trapped in the same room together, some ugly part of you had still expected recognition the second his eyes landed on you tonight. at least acknowledgment.

instead you got nothing.

after everything, the indifference felt oddly insulting, the humiliating awareness that you had spent nearly forty-eight hours carrying this situation around in your head while sohee stood twenty feet away looking completely untouched by any of it.

your eyes stayed fixed stubbornly across the room despite yourself, following the careless rhythm of his movements. the absent way he pushed his hair back from his forehead while listening to somebody beside him speak, the slight tilt of his mouth whenever another laugh escaped him, the complete absence of that familiar guardedness while people crowded around him as though nothing in the world required his attention beyond the conversation he was already having.

sungchan finally reappeared through the crowd carrying a fresh drink in one hand while a small group of his friends followed loosely behind him, the familiar shape of johnny immediately recognisable. wonbin walked beside him saying something that made the others laugh while somebody farther behind nearly stumbled directly into the kitchen counter hard enough to send drinks sloshing over the edge.

sungchan reached you first.

“here you go, m’lady,” he said with a grin while holding the vodka lemonade out toward you, condensation already dripping cold against his fingers from the plastic cup. the stupid theatricality of it almost pulled another smile from you, and beside him johnny immediately snorted.

“god,” he muttered dramatically, slinging an arm across wonbin’s shoulders. “you two make me feel violently single.”

“that sounds personal,” you answered dryly before finally taking the drink from sungchan’s hand.

johnny pointed vaguely toward you like he had just been deeply validated somehow while the rest of the group laughed behind him.

the warmth in his expression softened slightly once your fingers wrapped around the drink he had brought back for you, like the simple act of accepting it had eased something inside him again after the strange tension lingering between you both all evening. he stayed standing close enough that his shoulder brushed lightly against yours every time somebody shoved past too roughly through the crowd, broad frame instinctively angling slightly in front of you whenever groups stumbled too near.

“wonbin apparently has some new strain he’s been talking about for like three days straight,” sungchan said after a moment, glancing briefly toward the front hallway where people kept drifting in and out carrying coats and cigarettes. “they’re gonna smoke outside for a bit.”

wonbin lifted his hands immediately in self defence. “because unlike the rest of you degenerates, i actually value quality when it comes to what i'm smoking."

“you bought it from a guy that calls himself spider,” johnny replied flatly.

“that means nothing.”

“that means literally everything.”

another wave of laughter rolled loosely through the group while sungchan looked back toward you again, expression gentler now beneath the flashing lights. “you wanna come?” he asked. “it’s quieter outside.”

“i’m okay,” you answered before lifting the drink toward your lips.

sungchan studied your face for a second longer like he was trying to decide whether he believed you before eventually nodding anyway. he leaned down afterward before pressing a quick kiss against your cheek.

“don’t disappear,” he murmured lightly near your ear.

then he finally stepped away again, johnny immediately slinging an arm across sungchan’s shoulders the second they turned toward the front door while wonbin continued loudly defending his self proclaimed mastery in the art of weed purchasing. you watched them disappear gradually into the shifting crowd beneath the lights until the front door finally opened.

your focus moved vaguely between the drink in your hand and the movement across the room without fully settling on either for very long until suddenly mina appeared beside you again looking flushed and glowing from dancing, strands of hair sticking lightly against her forehead while chaewon followed close behind fanning herself dramatically with somebody’s abandoned paper plate.

“oh my god,” mina breathed the second she reached you, still half laughing from whatever had just happened on the dance floor. “have you literally been standing here this entire time?”

you lifted the vodka lemonade vaguely in response before taking another sip. “i’ve moved at least twice actually.”

“who are you and what have you done with my fun best friend?”

chaewon leaned heavily against the wall beside you afterward, chest still rising slightly faster from dancing while the gloss on her lips had smudged faintly around the edges.

“ignore her,” she sighed dramatically before immediately grabbing your wrist. “listen to me instead because i think i finally found the man who’s gonna help me forget jaehyun.”

you raised an eyebrow slowly. “really?”

“you should have seen her” mina cut in immediately. “she was dancing on this guy like rent was due.”

“okay first of all,” chaewon snapped while fixing her hair in the reflection of the darkened window beside you, “he was really hot.”

“he looks like he hasn't had a single productive thought in a week.”

“i don't need a philosopher, i need a hot guy to fuck me.”

despite yourself, a quieter laugh escaped through your nose at that while chaewon continued ranting passionately about how she deserved to rebound in peace without being judged for it. around you the party seemed almost softer for a moment beneath the familiar rhythm of your friends talking over one another, the conversation managing to pull you out of your own head for a moment. while mina reached over to steal a sip from your drink before immediately grimacing at how strong it was.

“jesus christ,” she coughed. “what is wrong with you?”

“a lot actually.”

another wave of laughter passed between the three of you while chaewon suddenly glanced back toward the centre of the living room where a new song had apparently started, her expression changing instantly.

“oh absolutely not,” she gasped while grabbing mina’s arm. “they’re playing megan thee stallion. we have to go back immediately.”

mina groaned dramatically toward the ceiling before looking back at you again. “come with us this time,” she demanded. “you’ve been standing here looking emotionally unavailable for like forty minutes.”

“i’m fine here.”

“that look on your face proves otherwise.”

you only rolled your eyes before taking another sip from your drink, the cold sting of vodka and lemonade sliding numbingly down your throat while the bass continued vibrating through your chest.

"i don't need a babysitter, im fine."

mina hesitated for a second longer, eyes narrowing slightly like she was trying to decide whether to push harder. “you sure?”

“go dance,” you said finally, softer this time. “i’ll survive without supervision for five minutes.”

for all their dramatics and constant complaining, the hesitation lingering there was real enough that warmth flickered faintly through your chest despite yourself. eventually mina squeezed briefly at your arm before finally relenting.

“fine,” she sighed. “but if you suddenly become fun again, come find us.”

the two of them disappeared back into the crowd together, swallowed so quickly by the house that within seconds it was impossible to tell where they'd gone.

for a while you stayed exactly where you were, shoulder resting lightly against the wall while the night carried on around you without requiring much participation. conversations bled together into background noise, faces becoming increasingly difficult to keep track of the more you drank. the vodka had softened the edges of everything just enough that time started slipping strangely.

your gaze drifted without purpose at first, aimless beneath the haze settling slowly over your thoughts. then, inevitably, your eyes found sohee again.

this time he had drifted slightly away from the larger group, and the sight that greeted you lodged beneath your skin almost instantly. yuna stood close enough to him now that her body nearly brushed his chest while she balanced lightly onto the balls of her feet, one hand resting against the back of his neck to pull him lower toward her mouth so he could hear her properly over the music.

sohee bent automatically at the waist without hesitation, broad shoulders shifting beneath the thin black fabric stretched tightly across his back while his arms folded loosely across his chest, forearms flexing faintly beneath flushed skin from the movement. from this distance you could not hear a single word being exchanged between them, only the shape of the conversation disappearing entirely beneath the relentless bass swallowing the room whole.

still, something inside you tightened immediately at the sight.

because despite the complete lack of evidence, despite how irrational it actually was, you could not stop the immediate certainty settling low and poisonous inside your chest that somehow the conversation had circled back toward you. maybe it was yuna specifically that sharpened the feeling, the memory of the cafeteria flashing unpleasantly through your head all over again. maybe it was simply the fact that sohee had spent enough time occupying space inside your thoughts lately that now every glance around him felt loaded automatically whether it actually was or not.

you hated how much it bothered you.

hated the humiliating awareness that you were standing there trying to read meaning into body language and half-seen gestures like somebody genuinely unstable while sohee himself still looked maddeningly untouched by any of it. across the room yuna finally pulled back first, though her hand lingered briefly against the back of his neck another second longer before dropping away. sohee remained bent slightly toward her for half a heartbeat afterward before straightening again, eyes lowering briefly while she said one last thing that pulled the faintest twitch at the corner of his mouth.

then he nodded once. easy, casual, completely unaffected.

afterward he handed her the drink still hanging loose from his fingers before turning away from the group entirely and starting toward the darker hallway leading deeper into the house where the music dulled slightly beneath the walls.

something inside you moved before your brain fully caught up to it.

your grip tightened automatically around the cup in your hand before you tipped the rest of the vodka lemonade back in one long swallow, the sharp burn sliding cold and heavy down your throat while your pulse thudded thickly somewhere beneath your ribs. by the time you lowered the empty cup again, sohee had already nearly disappeared from sight beyond the edge of the hallway.

you barely thought at all before pushing yourself away from the wall and following after him.

the sound of your heels carried sharply through the hallway once you stepped fully away from the party, striking against the wooden floor in slow measured clicks that felt strangely loud compared to the muffled bass now vibrating distantly behind the walls. the farther you moved from the living room, the quieter everything became, though not truly silent. music still pulsed faintly beneath the floorboards while laughter drifted somewhere upstairs alongside the occasional slam of a bathroom door farther down the corridor. the dim lighting softened the hallway into warmer shadows compared to the chaos consuming the rest of the house, catching unevenly against discarded jackets, abandoned cups and the thin sheen of sweat still clinging faintly to your skin from hours spent inside the crowd.

ahead of you, sohee remained half turned away near the bathroom entrance with his attention lowered toward the phone in his hand, one broad shoulder resting briefly against the wall while his free hand moved absently along the back of his neck. from this close, every detail seemed clearer somehow without the constant movement of the crowd between you both. the black sleeveless shirt stretched cleanly across the width of his shoulders and upper back whenever he shifted his weight, blond strands hanging damp and dishevelled across his forehead while the silver chain resting against his throat caught faintly beneath the yellow glow from the lamp nearby.

the moment the sound of your footsteps fully registered you observed the faint tightening that moved subtly through his shoulders before his head lifted from the screen in his hand and his gaze sharpened instinctively toward the sound approaching behind him. the second his eyes landed on you standing there at the centre of the hallway, recognition settled visibly across his face and erased whatever loose absent ease had existed there moments earlier.

it happened fast enough to feel almost automatic, the line of his mouth flattening slightly while something colder slid neatly back into place behind his expression, familiar in a way that made heat rise low through your chest all over again because finally, after an entire night spent pretending otherwise, sohee looked at you exactly the way you had been expecting him to.

for a few seconds neither of you said anything.

the silence, neither of you looking away from each other long enough to acknowledge it. up close now, the tension that had spent weeks festering beneath every interaction finally felt stripped of all the buffers that usually softened it, no sungchan standing awkwardly between you trying to smooth things over, no crowded kitchen forcing either of you to swallow your reactions before they escalated too far.

there was only the two of you now. and sohee looked exactly the way you had expected him to the second he finally acknowledged your existence again.

the loose ease he had worn across the party had disappeared entirely. the harder version of him had slipped immediately back into place the moment recognition sunk in, visible now in the stillness sitting through his body and the line of his mouth while his gaze remained fixed on you with that same familiar restrained hostility you had spent weeks learning how to read.

your eyes dragged slowly across his face beneath the dim hallway lighting before finally meeting his stare properly again.

“why the fuck have you been talking about me to other people?”

sohee’s expression tightened immediately afterward, not with guilt or surprise but with something closer to pure irritation, like the accusation itself offended him. one side of his mouth pulled faintly while he looked at you for another second before scrunching his face slightly in visible disgust.

“you really think i have so little going on in my life that i spend my time talking about you?”

“well clearly you do,” you shot back quickly, “seeing as yuna’s suddenly repeating information i’m pretty sure didn’t magically fall out of the sky on its own.”

at the mention of yuna, something flickered faintly across his expression before he scoffed under his breath, the sound sharp and genuinely irritated enough that it echoed slightly in the quieter hallway. he shook his head once afterward while looking at you like you were something unpleasant stuck to the bottom of his shoe.

“so i spoke about you with one of my friends? not like i told her anything that wasn’t true.”

the words landed harder than they should have.

you stared at him for a second while then rolled your eyes slowly, the expression spreading deliberately across your face in a way that only seemed to sharpen the hostility already sitting between you both.

“you seriously don’t hear how fucking weird you sound?” you asked quietly, stepping closer now without properly realising it.

"seriously. what is your actual problem? because every time i turn around you've somehow made yourself part of something that never involved you in the first place."

“because unlike you, some people actually gave a shit about what happens to sungchan.”

“oh my god,” you laughed quietly. “you act like i ruined his life or something."

“but you did.”

the answer came so quickly it almost overlapped your own words.

for a second the hallway seemed to tighten around the both of you. whatever restraint had still been holding his composure together earlier was beginning to crack visibly around the edges, irritation bleeding steadily into something far rougher and more personal beneath the surface, like your complete inability to understand why he hated you this much genuinely disgusted him on some fundamental level.

“so stop standing here acting all shocked every time i make it obvious i don’t like you,” he continued, voice lower now but significantly less controlled than before.

“you don’t get to walk around acting all high and mighty after what you did.”

“for what though?” you shot back immediately, stepping closer now while heat climbed steadily through your chest.

“you don’t like me, okay, great. but you've spent months acting like a miserable prick every time i'm in the same room as you and i just don't get it.”

something snapped visibly across his expression then.

“because you fucking cheated on him,” he said, the words coming harsher this time, disbelief and anger twisting together beneath every syllable. “multiple times. then you walked away from him like he was the one to blame while he was already falling apart.”

your jaw tightened instantly.

“and now i’m supposed to believe you suddenly care about his wellbeing?” sohee continued before you could interrupt, eyes narrowing harder now while the muscles along his forearms flexed beneath crossed arms. “i’m supposed to believe you’re back in his life because of some newfound love for him or because you suddenly want a relationship again? give me a fucking break.”

the bitterness underneath his voice was ugly enough to scrape against your nerves.

"are you serious?" you laughed sharply. "that's what this is? you've spent months acting like i'm some sort of serial killer because i cheated on my ex-boyfriend?"

“you’re standing here bitching and crying over something he’s already moved on from,” you snapped back. “wish the same could be said about you.”

the reaction in him was immediate.

his jaw flexed hard enough for you to notice it beneath the dim hallway light while something genuinely furious darkened behind his expression for the first time since the conversation started.

“because he’s pathetic when it comes to you,” sohee said flatly. “i don’t know what sort of fucking hold you have over him, but it’s clearly clouding his judgement.”

“he’s pathetic because he’s not acting like some overgrown baby over cheating?” you scoffed. “oh my god, sohee, when the fuck are you gonna grow up?”

a humourless laugh escaped him at that, low and bitter enough that it immediately raised the temperature between you another degree.

“of course you’d say something like that,” he muttered, shaking his head slowly while looking down at you with open disgust now. “people like you always do.”

your eyebrows pulled together.

“people like me?”

“selfish people,” he said flatly. “people who leave a trail of damage behind them and then act confused when somebody points it out.”

"i guess being a bitch apparently becomes acceptable when you're pretty enough.”

“watch your mouth, sohee.”

“why?” he laughed bitterly, eyes narrowing now while the muscles in his jaw flexed visibly beneath flushed skin. “because hearing the truth makes you uncomfortable?”

“what makes me uncomfortable is you acting like some bitter fucking ex when none of this had anything to do with you in the first place.”

what had started as hostility had become something far uglier somewhere during the conversation, something raw enough that you could practically feel it tightening through the air around his body. because the second the words left your mouth, something in sohee’s expression changed completely.

the loss of control showed itself in smaller ways that somehow made it worse, the way his shoulders drew faintly tighter beneath the black fabric stretched across them, the way his jaw flexed once so hard you could see the muscle jump beneath flushed skin before he looked away briefly toward the floor like he physically needed a second to process what you had just said. when his eyes lifted back toward you again, whatever restraint had still been holding the conversation together earlier was visibly beginning to split apart around the edges.

“nothing to do with me?” he repeated quietly.

the look in his eyes made the hallway suddenly feel far too narrow.

you opened your mouth instinctively, already prepared to bite something cruel back at him before he could continue, but sohee spoke first, the words coming rougher now.

“you weren’t there,” he said, voice tightening unevenly around the sentence like the memory itself still sat somewhere lodged beneath his ribs.

“you weren’t there when he stopped eating properly for almost a month because every time somebody mentioned your name he looked like he was gonna be sick. you weren’t there when he couldn’t sleep. you weren’t there when he sat on the floor of our apartment crying over you like some fucking idiot because he couldn’t understand why he still wanted you back after everything you did to him.”

the force of it hollowed something briefly out of the air between you. the sharp immediate tightening in your chest at being spoken to like you were some uniquely evil person instead of somebody who had simply done something selfish and messy and human.

you hated the way sohee looked at you when he spoke, like he genuinely believed morality itself sat cleanly on one side of the room with him while you stood on the other dripping rot onto everything you touched.

your chin lifted slightly despite the pressure now building suffocatingly between you both.

“so what?” you answered flatly after a second. “it’s not like you’re the one i cheated on.”

“thank god i’m not sungchan,” he muttered bitterly, eyes dragging slowly across your face with open contempt now. “i’d rather die than let myself get played by the campus communal hole.”

the insult hit low and immediate as heat surged violently through your chest before thought could properly catch up to it. one second there was still space between your bodies, thick with hostility and sharp breathing and unresolved resentment, and the next your fist had twisted violently into the front of his tank top, bunching the black fabric tightly in your hand while you shoved him backward hard enough for his shoulders to collide against the wall behind him with a dull impact.

the movement startled him and you saw it immediately in the brief widening of his eyes before anger swallowed the reaction whole again.

suddenly you were impossibly close. close enough to feel the heat radiating from his body through the thin material crushed between your fingers, close enough to smell alcohol and smoke clinging heavily to his skin beneath the cleaner scent of his cologne, close enough to see the pulse beating sharply beneath the side of his throat while his breathing shifted unevenly.

“go on, use the word you really want to say” you hissed, voice rough now beneath the fury burning through your chest while you jerked him slightly forward off the wall again.

“say it. call me a slut, since you’re suddenly feeling so fucking brave.”

"sohee the great, slutshaming a woman, because of what? because i actually enjoy having sex?because i don't fake purity and virginity for vanilla guys like you?"

sohee stared down at you without blinking, chest rising harder now beneath your hand while tension spread visibly through every line of his body pinned against the wall behind him. the hatred was still there, obvious in the hard set of his jaw and the dark look fixed across his face, but underneath it now sat something far more dangerous than either of you had intended when this conversation first started, something hot and volatile crackling low through the tiny amount of space left separating your bodies.

still, when he finally spoke, the contempt remained intact.

“i don’t need to humour you or your manic ranting.”

“fuck you, sohee,” you spat back instantly, fingers twisting tighter into the front of his shirt until the fabric strained audibly between your fists.

“you know what i actually think? i think you're so busy worrying about everybody else's sex life because you've got absolutely nothing going on in your own.”

the disgust darkened immediately across his face.

“i think you're so miserable watching everybody around you actually enjoy themselves that you've convinced yourself it's some moral failing instead.”

the shove had locked you both into a space so narrow the rest of the party collapses into nothing but distant bass and smeared light. your fist remains twisted in the front of his shirt, knuckles pressed hard to the steady rise of his chest. his back is flat to the wall, shoulders rigid, and the heat trapped between your bodies thickens instantly, humid and suffocating, the summer air itself seeming to clot in the narrow gap that no longer exists. you can feel every shallow, uneven breath he takes, the way his ribs expand against your forearm, the faint tremor that runs through the muscle under your fingers. without meaning to, your fingers tighten, drawing him that last impossible fraction closer, and he shifts against the wall in a small, involuntary adjustment of his hips that registers before either of you can stop it.

the solid weight of his cock presses against your thigh where your skirt has ridden high. it feels immediately wrong, the blunt, insistent pressure dragging slowly along your skin, the dampness of it seeping through the denim in a slow, spreading patch that clings to you. your stomach drops and for one suspended heartbeat your mind goes perfectly still, the alcohol sharpening every detail until the contact feels almost violent in its clarity.

except the sensation refuses to belong to anything happening between you.

the anger is still there. the disgust too. sohee is still looking down at you with the same hostility that had been sitting across his face since the beginning of the conversation, his jaw tight, his breathing uneven from the force of the argument, every line of him still radiating the same contempt that had finally pushed you into shoving him against the wall in the first place. nothing about the moment has changed. nothing about him has changed.

yet the pressure remains.

your attention catches on it despite yourself, lingering there for a second longer than it should, your brain reaching automatically for explanations that make more sense than the one beginning to form at the edge of your thoughts. his phone, maybe. his keys. something caught awkwardly inside the pocket of his jeans. anything other than—

the realisation drags your focus lower before you can stop it. the outline is unmistakable now, stretched tight and heavy against the front of his jeans, the shape of him clearly defined where the fabric pulls. the weight of it is there, the slow, helpless pulse of it pressing into your thigh with every shallow breath he takes.

you’ve spent months making careless, cutting little jokes about him. about how someone so uptight and sexless probably didn’t have much to work with, months spent rolling your eyes whenever somebody mentioned one of his hookups, dismissing them as exaggerations or jokes about how someone like him probably fucked like he argued: stiff, joyless, and underwhelming. you’ve said it to his face in passing remarks, to sungchan when he wasn’t around, even to yourself when his cold stares got under your skin. you’ve been with enough men to know what’s average and what isn’t, and you’d written him off completely.

and now you’re staring, because this doesn’t make sense. the thick, heavy line of him is pressed right there against your thigh, so obviously, undeniably big that for a second your brain refuses to make the connection at all, the shape of it existing separately from the man standing in front of you, like the two things belong to entirely different people.

lee sohee. the same sohee who’s spent months looking at you like you were something filthy he had to tolerate for sungchan’s sake. the same sohee who acts like sex and desire are beneath him. the sheer size of it feels like a private joke the universe decided to play on you at the worst possible moment. your eyes stay there longer than they should, caught between disbelief and something sharper, something you don’t want to name yet.

your tongue drags slowly across your lower lip, breathing shallow and quick as a flush climbs your neck because you can feel how much he is leaking, the warm dampness spreading slowly against your thigh. your pussy gives one involuntary clench, a traitorous little pulse, your gaze lingering on the way another slow throb rolls through him in response, the way his cock twitches helplessly like it has already chosen for him.

sohee feels the exact moment you understand what you are feeling.

his entire frame locks, the muscle along his jaw jumping once, sharp and visible, horror and self-loathing moving openly across his expression as the reality of it settles over him. his eyes widen, then narrow with something raw and sick, his breathing turning ragged in the narrow space between your faces. for one endless second he simply stares at you, the realisation of what has just happened written plainly across his face.

his hands come up fast.

he shoves you back hard enough that you stumble, the sudden loss of his weight leaving your skin cold where it had been pressed. he is breathing like he has been struck, chest rising and falling in sharp, uneven drags, cheeks burning dark beneath the dim light. his eyes are wide with something that looks like panic wearing the thin mask of anger.

“stay the fuck away from my friend,” he mutters, voice low and cracked, already turning as though he cannot bear to look at you any longer.

you stand there with your pulse hammering between your legs, the memory of that insistent weight still burning against your thigh. by the time you finally push yourself away from the wall, the memory still hasn't loosened its grip on you, lingering stubbornly beneath your skin in the same way his words had earlier, except infinitely more irritating. because the last thing you wanted was another reason to think about lee sohee, and now he has given you one.

𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚

the bass was loud enough that you felt it before the door even opened, low violent vibrations bleeding through the warped wood beneath your knuckles while somewhere inside the apartment somebody shouted over the music loud enough to earn a burst of drunken laughter immediately afterward. the hallway outside smelled faintly damp from earlier rainfall still clinging to people’s skin, though most of it disappeared the second sungchan finally pulled the door open and the heat from inside spilled outward into the corridor.

it hit your skin instantly.

thick overheated air dense with vodka fumes and sweat and whatever aggressively masculine cologne one of his friends had clearly drowned himself in, all of it tangled together beneath the stale lived-in smell the apartment permanently carried now from boys sharing one space for too long. 

instant noodles, protein powder, and cheap alcohol.

sungchan filled the doorway almost completely when he opened it, one hand still loose around the handle while the other pushed absently back through his dishevelled hair, dark strands sticking faintly against his forehead beneath the hallway light. the sleeves of his top sat shoved messily up his forearms and there was already a faint flush spread across his cheeks that suggested he’d been drinking long before you got there, though the second his eyes landed properly on you something in his expression shifted immediately anyway.

softened. brightened. like seeing you standing there had pulled his attention fully back into focus after hours spent drifting lazily through noise and alcohol.

“you made it,” he said, and even over the music there was something stupidly genuine about the relief sitting beneath the words.

his gaze moved quickly over you after that, not subtle enough to miss. the short skirt, your bare legs disappearing into boots still damp from outside, the tiny black top clinging tightly enough to your body that the silver glint of your belly piercing caught briefly beneath the flickering hallway light. you watched his throat move once before his attention snapped upward again almost immediately, the corner of his mouth pulling higher like he’d just remembered he was supposed to pretend not to stare.

“what?” you asked lightly, though your mouth had already started curving before he could answer.

“nothing,” he said too quickly, smiling wider now. “you just look—”

“you look good,” he says, voice low and scraped raw, like the words had to fight their way out. 

he swallows thickly, the pause stretching long and dangerous between you, his eyes flickering dark with thoughts that are anything but pg. the air between you already feels heavier, charged, like one move could make it spark.

“good enough to rip my clothes off?”

the words came easily, shamelessly, and the effect was immediate. sungchan’s expression faltered for half a second before a breathy laugh escaped him, his eyes dropping briefly toward the floor like he needed the second to pull himself back together.

“maybe,” he muttered eventually, though the answer sat too low and too honest beneath the music to sound convincing as a joke.

another burst of shouting erupted somewhere deeper inside the apartment immediately afterward, followed by loud drunken laughter from the kitchen, but sungchan barely seemed to register any of it anymore. his attention stayed fixed on you instead while his hand settled automatically against your waist to pull you inside, palm broad and hot, fingers spreading wide over the strip of bare skin above your skirt. the touch is deliberate, thumb brushing once, twice, slow and firm enough that heat blooms low in your belly and spreads outward in a rush. 

even after the door clicks shut behind you, he doesn’t let go. his fingers stay pressed there, warm and slightly calloused, the faint tremor in them telling you exactly how hard he’s working to stay in control. you feel the heat of his body radiating against yours, the clean scent of his cologne mixed with whiskey and something darker, something that makes your mouth water.

inside, the light slides over you again and his eyes follow it greedily, slower this time, drinking you in like he’s starving. his fingers flex once against your waist, pressing harder, almost a warning, then he leans down. the kiss he aims for your cheek lands dangerously close to the corner of your mouth instead, warm, the faint burn of whiskey on his lips and the scrape of stubble against your skin sending a sharp shiver racing down your spine. 

when he pulls back he doesn’t go far. his face hovers inches from yours, breath hot and ragged against your lips, eyes half-lidded and dark with want. you can feel the tension vibrating off him, every tight muscle coiled like a spring, the way his chest rises and falls too fast, the faint dampness of his palm where it grips you tighter.

his name cracks through the haze, loud and sharp, yelled from one of his friends in the kitchen. the voice cuts straight through the thick air like a blade, followed immediately by another burst of rowdy, drunken laughter that echoes down the hallway. sungchan’s whole body jolts just slightly, the spell fracturing. he rolls his eyes toward the ceiling, slow and annoyed, the movement pulling the strong line of his throat into sharp relief under the dim light. for a second the frustration is plain on his face, jaw tight, like the interruption physically pains him.

his hand never properly leaves your waist as he guides you further into the apartment, palm resting low against your side while he steers you through the crowded hallway with absent familiarity. the music grows louder the deeper you move inside, bass shaking low through the floor hard enough that you can feel it vibrating faintly up through the heels of your boots, while voices overlap messily from every direction at once until individual conversations become impossible to separate from the noise.

people notice sungchan bringing you in almost immediately.

not in a dramatic way, nothing in the room pauses long enough for that. but heads turn briefly as you pass through the apartment anyway, quick half-drunk acknowledgements thrown in your direction between conversations while bodies shift lazily aside to let both of you through.

“finally,” one of his friends' mutters from the couch, slouched so far back they’re practically horizontal against the cushions already. “he’s been checking his phone every five seconds.”

“shut the fuck up,” sungchan shoots back automatically, though the grin tugging briefly at the corner of his mouth ruins any actual irritation behind it.

the kitchen comes into view a second later, brighter than the rest of the apartment beneath harsh overhead lighting that exposes every smear of spilled alcohol and hands pressed into the countertops. bottles crowd almost every available surface, some half empty already, others tipped sideways beside bowls of crisps and sweets. somebody has abandoned a hoodie over one of the barstools while another person leans heavily against the fridge laughing hard enough that their entire body folds forward with it.

sungchan finally lets go of your waist only long enough to make space for you between the counter and himself, guiding you naturally toward the empty stretch of marble like he’s done it enough times before not to think about it anymore. his hand brushes lightly against your thigh as you hop up onto the counter, skirt dragging higher from the movement while the cold surface presses briefly against the backs of your legs before the apartment heat swallows the sensation almost immediately again.

sungchan moved around in the narrow space between your knees and the counter, half distracted now by the growing list of demands being thrown at him from different corners of the apartment. somebody wanted more ice, somebody else was already complaining the drinks were too weak. another voice cut through the music asking where the vodka disappeared to, followed immediately by a chorus of drunken disagreement from somewhere near the living room.

he laughed under his breath at all of it, one hand braced briefly against the counter beside your thigh while the other reached past you for another bottle, the movement forcing him close enough that the warmth coming off him pressed directly into your skin. every few seconds his attention drifted back toward you automatically anyway, like his focus kept snagging there no matter how many conversations pulled at him from the rest of the room.

the pitcher sitting on the counter beside you filled slowly while he worked, liquor splashing softly against ice beneath the music while he reached for bottles and mixers without really looking anymore, moving with the loose familiarity of somebody who’d hosted enough nights like this before. the kitchen crowded tighter around both of you with every passing minute, shoulders brushing together, people squeezing through narrow gaps behind sungchan while the apartment heat thickened steadily beneath the lights.

at some point his hand disappeared absently into the open bowl sitting beside you, fingers brushing through sweets and chocolate bars before he pulled out a lollipop between two fingers.

“strawberry’s your favourite, right?”

you nodded once.

the wrapper crinkled softly between his fingers while he unwrapped it one-handed, and when he looked back toward you again his gaze dropped automatically to your mouth first before lifting upward. something shifted briefly across his expression at the sight of the gloss still shining there beneath the kitchen light, subtle enough that you almost missed it entirely.

his hand settled beneath your chin a second later, fingers warm against your skin while he tilted your face upward slightly to push the lollipop into your mouth for you. the candy pressed sweet and artificial against your tongue immediately, and sungchan’s eyes stayed there a fraction too long when your lips closed slowly around it.

his thumb lingered briefly beneath your jaw after the lollipop disappeared between your lips, the pad of it dragging once lightly against your skin before he finally pulled his hand away again, though his gaze still hadn’t properly left your mouth yet. the music swallowed most of the room whole around you both but sungchan looked momentarily detached from all of it standing there between your knees, attention narrowing into something quieter and warmer beneath the noise.

you sucked lightly against the candy without breaking eye contact and the reaction was immediate as his throat moved once.

a quiet curse slipped from somebody behind sungchan drags his attention away from your mouth long enough for him to glance sideways again, though the faint flush spread across his cheeks had deepened noticeably beneath the kitchen lights now. 

“bro,” another voice cut through the kitchen over the music, lower and rougher around the edges from alcohol, “i think we need more paper cup—”

the words stopped halfway, sohee just pushing his way properly into the kitchen crowd when he noticed you sitting there.

his body stalled for a fraction too long near the counter, eyes lifting automatically toward sungchan first before landing on you between the harsh overhead lights and the cluttered kitchen mess around you both. messy brown hair hung loose across his forehead, slightly damp and curling faintly at the ends from the apartment heat, while the thin silver chains resting against his throat caught briefly beneath the light whenever he moved. his shirt looked wrinkled already, stretched slightly at the collar over the darker long sleeve underneath, sleeves pushed carelessly up his forearms like he’d stopped caring hours ago about fixing them properly.

for a second he said nothing at all.

his gaze moved once over the scene in front of him, sungchan standing between your legs, your skirt riding dangerously high against the counter edge before something shifted subtly across his face, tightening hard enough around the mouth and jaw to sharpen his entire expression almost instantly.

somebody squeezed loudly past him toward the fridge, shoulder knocking against his arm hard enough to jostle him slightly, but sohee barely reacted. his eyes remained fixed on the two of you another second longer while his tongue pressed once against the inside of his cheek like he was forcing something back down.

sungchan looked up first, oblivious to most of it.

“we’re out already?” sungchan asked with a laugh.

sohee’s attention finally dragged away from you then.

“yeah,” he muttered, voice flatter now than it had been when he first walked in, the words clipped short enough that even sungchan glanced at him for half a second afterward. 

whatever mood he’d been in before entering the kitchen seemed to have vanished entirely beneath the weight of seeing you there, replaced instead by something visibly restrained sitting tight across his face while he grabbed one of the abandoned cups near the sink and brought it up to his face to demonstrate.

“our friends drink like fucking alcoholics.”

sungchan laughed as he finally moved away from the space between your knees a second later, the sudden absence of him leaving the cold edge of the counter more noticeable against the backs of your thighs, legs dangling loosely over the side now while noise and movement swelled around the kitchen again to fill the gap he’d left behind.

across from you, sohee still hadn’t looked your way again.

his back was half turned while he leaned one shoulder against the counter near the stove, cup hanging loose from one hand while another guy beside him spoke animatedly about something neither of you cared enough to listen to. even from where you sat you could still see the tension sitting visibly through the line of his shoulders though, jaw set hard enough beneath the kitchen lights that the muscle there shifted every few seconds like he was grinding his teeth without realising it.

it irritated you instantly, because the sheer hostility of it had started feeling excessive at this point. every interaction with sohee carried this same unpleasant edge now, this constant sense that merely existing in the same room as you immediately worsened his mood, his responses flattening into clipped little remarks before he inevitably found some excuse to occupy himself elsewhere. the longer it dragged on the more it started getting beneath your skin too.

sungchan returned a few minutes later balancing a stack of paper cups against his chest alongside a tray of brownies somebody had apparently shoved into his hands halfway back to the counter. he dropped the cups beside the bottles before setting the tray down near you, the smell of burnt chocolate drifting upward almost immediately beneath the heat hanging thick through the kitchen.

“hungry?” sungchan asked distractedly. “we have brownies.”

your eyes drifted lazily toward the tray. one side had escaped mostly intact, but the other had darkened several shades too far, the edges bordering on charcoal while the centre remained suspiciously uneven.

“those burnt looking things are brownies?”

sungchan glanced down at the tray before laughing quietly beneath his breath.

“hey, those are the ones sohee made,” he said, already sounding halfway defensive before you’d even answered. “they’re actually good.”

you pressed your tongue slowly against the candy in your mouth before looking back toward the brownies again, unconvinced.

“i'm not putting that in my mouth.”

“you're being dramatic.”

“i'm being sensible. attempting to swallow one of those things feels like a disaster waiting to happen.”

sungchan let out a quiet breath that sounded suspiciously like the beginning of a laugh before he managed to stop it, his mouth twitching once as though he had suddenly remembered whose brownies were being discussed.

unfortunately, sohee had heard it too.

you could tell from the way his attention shifted briefly in your direction before settling elsewhere again, the reaction small enough that most people probably wouldn't have noticed it. he didn't say anything immediately. instead he reached for the vodka bottle sitting beside the sink, unscrewing the cap with slightly more force than seemed strictly necessary before pouring himself a drink. the glass knocked softly against the countertop when he set the bottle down again, his focus remaining fixed stubbornly on the task in front of him despite the fact the conversation had very clearly stopped being about brownies several seconds ago.

“crazy,” he said eventually, voice low enough that it almost disappeared beneath the bass rattling through the apartment.

his eyes lifted toward you then for the first time since entering the kitchen properly, the look in them flat and steady enough that irritation prickled immediately beneath your skin before he even finished speaking.

“i didn't realise you'd become so selective about what you chose to swallow now.”

the comment settled neatly into the space between all three of you, ugly in the way it took a moment to register properly, slipping into the conversation with the same ease as everything else that had been said that evening despite the fact it landed infinitely harder. you sungchan freezing almost immediately, small enough that nobody else would, but close enough that you felt it anyway. the way his body stalled halfway through reaching for one of the cups, the easy looseness that had been sitting across his face all night disappearing so quickly it almost felt wiped clean. even his smile dropped slightly at the corners before he looked down toward the counter instead, exhaling slowly through his nose while his fingers tightened once around the stack of cups hard enough to bend the top one inward.

“sohee,” he muttered quietly, exhaustion settling heavily beneath the warning now like this was an argument he already knew too well.

irritation flared almost immediately after the words left his mouth, sharp enough that you found yourself pulling the lollipop slowly from between your lips before you even realised you'd stopped sucking on it. the entire kitchen seemed to shift around the feeling, overcrowded, every passing shoulder an inconvenience, every burst of laughter unnecessarily loud. even the music vibrating through the apartment walls had started to feel less like background noise and more like something pressing insistently against your skull. across from you, sohee still looked infuriatingly composed despite the tension sitting visibly through every line of his body.

except he wasn’t composed at all.

you could see it now the longer you looked at him. there was a strange inconsistency to him, tiny fractures appearing beneath the surface the harder he tried to maintain it. subtle enough that nobody else in the room would have noticed but impossible to miss once your attention settled properly on him. the composure was still there, at least outwardly, but it no longer felt effortless. there was a faint rigidity to him now, an unusual awareness in the way he held himself, as though every instinct urging him to look away was being actively overruled by something stronger.

the cool indifference he wore so comfortably around everyone else had begun slipping in place, yet he kept looking at you.

being looked at by sohee always carried this unpleasant feeling you couldn’t fully explain because there was never anything impulsive or openly emotional about it. nothing softened in his face when his eyes moved over you. no awkwardness, no embarrassment, no recklessness that could be dismissed as drunkenness. if anything, the restraint made it worse because every glance felt too deliberate, dragged slowly over you with the same visible displeasure. 

your fingers curled tighter into your palm before you finally snapped.

“grow the fuck up, sohee.”

sohee lifted a cup toward his mouth instead, taking a slow swallow while his gaze stayed fixed steadily on you.

“i think,” he said eventually, voice flat enough to disappear almost completely beneath the bass, “you’ll find the one who needs some growing to do is you.”

beside you, sungchan sighed quietly through his nose, the sound almost disappearing beneath the noise filling the apartment, though you still caught it. when you glanced toward him briefly his hand was rubbing slowly at the back of his neck now, shoulders noticeably tighter than before while his gaze stayed fixed somewhere near the counter instead of either of you.

you laughed softly under your breath, the sound mean enough around the edges that sungchan’s shoulders visibly tightened beside you, clearly not a joyful sound.

“god,” you muttered, shaking your head once. “you’re such a fucking asshole.”

sohee’s mouth twitched faintly at that, though it looked closer to contempt than amusement.

“am i wrong though?”

he sounded calm saying it, certain which somehow irritated you more than if he’d shouted.

“sohee. please,” sungchan cut in quickly this time, voice lower now as his eyes flicked briefly between both of you. 

“can we not do this tonight?”

sohee said nothing else, standing there across from you with his eyes fixed steadily on your face, expression pulled tight enough now that it looked almost painful. you could practically see the argument still sitting there behind his teeth, something harsher clearly threatening to surface every time his jaw shifted faintly beneath the tension holding it shut. even the silence coming from him felt hostile somehow and every second he stood there saying nothing seemed only to make whatever was lodged beneath your ribs spread further, sinking its hooks deeper instead of loosening them.

then eventually his eyes rolled once before he took a slow breath through his nose, the kind people took when they were forcing themselves not to say something they’d regret afterward.

“whatever.”

the word came flat and clipped beneath the music before he stepped away from the counter entirely, disappearing back toward the living room crowd without another glance in your direction.

you watched him walk away, expecting some of the unpleasant energy between you to disappear with him, only to find it clinging stubbornly behind. it sat low and heavy inside your chest now, impossible to ignore, colouring everything around it. by the time he disappeared fully into the crowd you were still looking in the direction he'd gone, annoyed by him, by yourself for still thinking about him, and most of all by the fact he'd somehow managed to get the last word without saying another thing.

“he’s actually insufferable,” you muttered under your breath.

it was only then that sungchan seemed to relax beside you, something easing in him almost immediately after sohee disappeared into the crowd. the slight distraction that had lingered beneath his expression throughout the exchange finally disappeared, his focus settling properly again now that he no longer seemed caught between two opposing directions. a quiet breath left him before he stepped back into the space between your knees, one hand finding your thigh automatically while the other reached for the abandoned drink sitting beside you.

“why do you guys have to argue every two seconds?” he asked eventually, though the question sounded tired enough that it was obvious he already knew the answer somewhere beneath it and simply didn’t want to touch it directly.

you let your arms slide loosely around his shoulders, drawing him closer without really thinking about it, his familiar warmth replacing some of the agitation still buzzing unpleasantly beneath your skin. for a moment you only looked at him, taking in the faint crease still lingering between his brows, the way he seemed to be waiting for an answer he already suspected he wasn't going to get.

“i don’t know,” you mumbled lazily. “ask your guard dog.”

sungchan snorted softly beneath his breath at that, though it lacked some of the easy warmth from earlier. instead his forehead dropped briefly against your shoulder, eyes falling shut briefly as though he was allowing himself a second to decompress now. his hand remained resting against your thigh, thumb moving once in a slow absent sweep before going still again.

he stayed quiet after that, his grip resting loose against your thigh while the kitchen carried on around both of you in blurred fragments of movement and colour, conversation and music blurring together into little more than background noise. he seemed content to remain exactly where he was, leaning comfortably into the space between your knees while your fingers drifted idly through the hair at the back of his neck. after a while the exchange stopped feeling like something actively unfolding and became just another passing moment absorbed into the noise of the evening, buried beneath laughter, half-finished conversations and the restless movement of people weaving through the apartment.

and yet some unpleasant remnant of the exchange still lingered stubbornly beneath your skin, refusing to settle no matter how thoroughly you tried to ignore it.

𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚

sunlight filtered weakly through the gap in sungchan’s blinds in thin pale strips, cutting across the room in uneven bands that exposed the aftermath of last night piece by piece. clothes abandoned carelessly across the floor, one of your boots tipped onto its side near the desk, half-empty bottles crowding the nightstand beside tangled charging cables and somebody’s forgotten wallet. the air still carried the stale heaviness of alcohol soaked too deeply into fabric to disappear overnight, tangled together with the lingering warmth of sweat, detergent, and the faint musky trace of sex that clung stubbornly to the sheets beneath you.

you felt sungchan before your eyes fully opened, the weight of his body pressed heavily against your back, one arm locked tight around your waist even in sleep while one of his thighs remained hooked between yours. your body protested immediately the second consciousness returned fully, soreness blooming slow and deep in your muscles, not sharp enough to hurt but lingering everywhere in that heavy satisfying way that only came after being fucked properly.

your eyes narrowed against the stripe of sunlight falling directly across your face while somewhere beyond the bedroom walls the apartment hummed faintly with morning noise, pipes groaning softly and the low distant buzz of a refrigerator motor struggling through the silence. sungchan stirred slightly behind you when you shifted again, his grip tightening automatically on instinct before his face buried deeper into the back of your shoulder, still half asleep.

your own skin felt warm beneath the oversized shirt you’d stolen from him sometime during the night, fabric hanging loose over the bruises blooming darker now along your collarbone and thighs. even swallowing felt dry from the alcohol still lingering in your system, tongue heavy against the roof of your mouth while you stared blearily toward the ceiling another moment, letting the ache between your legs settle deeper before finally trying to pull yourself free from sungchan’s grip.

he made a low sound immediately, somewhere between a groan and complaint, eyebrows tightening without fully waking while his hand slid slowly across your waist like he was trying to keep you there even unconscious.

“where are you going,” he mumbled thickly, voice roughened by sleep, barely understandable against your shoulder.

“kitchen,” you muttered back automatically, already prying his arm loose despite the way he resisted weakly.

sungchan only sighed softly through his nose before finally letting go enough for you to slip out from beneath him, though even then his fingertips dragged lazily across your waist at the last second like his body disliked the distance instinctively. behind you the mattress dipped again when he rolled onto his back, one arm falling across his face while the sheets slipped low enough to expose the fresh red scratches streaking across his chest and shoulder from the night before.

you barely spared the sight more than a passing glance before padding toward the bedroom door barefoot, the cold wood floor biting against the lingering warmth still trapped inside your skin.

the apartment looked worse in daylight.

last night the darkness and coloured lights had hidden most of it beneath shadow and movement, but now everything sat exposed beneath the weak morning sun. sticky rings staining the coffee table where drinks had been abandoned hours ago, empty bottles lined crookedly along the kitchen counters and the general debris left behind by too many people staying up far later than they should have.

the kitchen tiles felt even colder beneath your feet when you stepped inside, the chill climbing briefly up your legs while the refrigerator hummed even louder in the silence. the fridge light spilled pale and artificial across your face the second you pulled the door open, cold air brushing across your skin while you stared blankly inside for a moment trying to decide what you actually wanted. there wasn’t much besides energy drinks, leftover takeaway containers, beer, and half-finished cartons shoved carelessly onto shelves between sauces and protein shakes.

eventually you reached for the carton of orange juice sitting near the front anyway before taking a slow drink straight from it without bothering to grab a glass first, the cold sweetness hitting your tongue sharply enough to make your face tighten slightly.

you hummed absently under your breath without really realising it while setting the juice down against the counter, fingers drifting lazily toward the fruit bowl sitting near the stove before grabbing a strawberry from where it had been abandoned among packets of crisps.

the familiarity of the apartment settled strangely easily around you.

you knew where everything was without thinking. which cabinets stuck when you pulled them too hard. where sungchan kept clean glasses because his friends never put them back properly. which side of the sink leaked if the tap twisted too far left. your body moved through the kitchen automatically, like it had done it enough times before to stop feeling unfamiliar entirely, and there was something almost invasive about how naturally you occupied the space this early in the morning while the apartment still looked half-undressed from the night before.

still chewing slowly on the strawberry, you stretched up onto your tiptoes to reach one of the higher cabinets, fingers brushing uselessly against the edge before finally nudging it open with a soft curse beneath your breath. one hand braced lazily against the counter to steady yourself as you searched blindly for the nutella jar shoved somewhere near the back shelf.

behind you came the slow shuffle of footsteps dragging across the floorboard which you barely thought about at first, presuming it was sungchan. your head turned eventually anyway, expecting to see him stumbling sleepily into the kitchen after you, still half buried in exhaustion from the night before, but the motion stalled halfway through when your eyes landed on sohee standing near the entrance instead.

his hair hung messily across his forehead in uneven dark strands, flattened strangely on one side from sleep while the rest stuck out in different directions like he hadn’t bothered trying to fix it yet. one eye remained barely open while he rubbed tiredly at it with the side of his index finger, shoulders rising and falling slowly beneath the lingering heaviness of sleep and alcohol both. he was shirtless too, grey sweatpants hanging low on his hips while the thin silver chain resting against his chest shifted faintly when he exhaled through his nose.

his gaze stayed lowered at first while he moved further into the kitchen still rubbing distractedly at his eye, clearly making his way toward the cabinets beside the sink without really thinking, but the second he finally looked up the movement stalled halfway through. his hand dropped slowly from his face while something in his expression hardened almost on instinct, shoulders pulling tighter beneath the lingering heaviness of sleep as his eyes moved over you once in silence, dragging briefly across the oversized shirt hanging loose against your body, the bruises exposed beneath the hem where your legs were still bare, the darker marks scattered visibly along your neck now that daylight exposed everything last night had blurred softer at the edges.

you watched his jaw tighten hard enough for the muscle there to flick once beneath his skin before his gaze shifted away again toward the counter instead, though whatever exhaustion had still been softening his face moments earlier seemed to disappear almost immediately afterward, replaced by that same familiar tension that always surfaced around you now, restrained but impossible to miss once you knew what to look for.

the silence stretched long enough afterward to become noticeable. you watched him open the cabinet beside the sink harder than necessary, the wood cracking sharply against the frame before settling again, and the sound seemed to linger awkwardly afterward in the already overheated kitchen.

he crossed toward the sink with that same rigid restraint threaded through every movement, like walking into the kitchen and finding you there first thing in the morning had immediately forced something sour beneath his skin that he was trying very hard not to let spill over. the tap screeched faintly when he twisted it on too hard, water crashing sharply into the glass while you stayed where you were beside the counter spreading nutella across bread in slow distracted motions, pretending not to notice the way the atmosphere in the room had shifted completely around him. five minutes ago the apartment had felt sluggish and half asleep, heavy with leftover alcohol and silence, but now the kitchen carried that same ugly tension that always seemed to bloom the second the two of you occupied the same space too long.

you could feel him behind you without looking properly. the weight of his silence settled strangely against your spine while the knife dragged another dark stripe of chocolate across the bread in your hands, your movements slowing slightly the longer he stood there refusing to speak. water dripped steadily from the bottom of his glass onto the counter after he finally lifted it to his mouth, the sound irregular and irritatingly loud against the quiet while he swallowed once, twice, lingering there beside the sink long after somebody else would have either said good morning or left the room entirely.

instead, his voice finally cut through the kitchen low and roughened by sleep.

“so is this the new thing now?”

the question landed wrong immediately. not because of the words themselves, but because of everything sitting underneath them, the irritation threaded tightly through his tone, the accusation buried beneath something that sounding dangerously close to disgust. your hand paused briefly against the bread before continuing again anyway, slower now, deliberate, not giving him an answer.

“you two are back together?” he pushed on after a while, clear that you weren't so enthusiastic to reply.

you glanced over your shoulder at him then.

he was leaning back against the sink now with one hand braced against the marble beside him. there was something rougher about him this morning than there had been the night before, the careful composure he usually carried around seeming slightly out of place against sleep-flushed skin and the faint shadow darkening beneath his eyes. under different circumstances it might even have made him look younger.

instead, it only made the look he gave you feel more honest.

“like it’s any of your business,” you answered flatly.

for a second neither of you moved. then sohee laughed quietly under his breath. the sound wasn’t amusement, it was sharper than that, bitter around the edges in a way that instantly made your shoulders tense.

“right,” he muttered, pushing himself upright again before reaching for the glass again.

“because you hanging around my kitchen every other morning wearing his clothes and helping yourself to my food apparently has nothing to do with me.”

your grip tightened around the knife automatically at the use of his words. irritation climbed hot through your chest at the sight of him standing there acting like your mere existence inside the apartment was something contaminating, like you touching the counters or opening the fridge somehow personally offended him.

you turned fully toward him then, bread still in one hand while the knife rested carelessly against your fingers.

“whatever,” you said sharply. “do you have a problem with it or something?”

sohee’s eyes settled on you properly for the first time since entering the kitchen, the question lingering between you for a moment.

you had expected the answer immediately. a sarcastic remark, an insult or some variation of the same dismissive attitude he’d been throwing at you all morning.

instead, he stayed silent.

it wasn’t a long silence, barely a couple of seconds at most, but it felt strangely significant coming from somebody who normally seemed to have an opinion ready the second your name entered a conversation. his attention remained fixed on you while the pause stretched just enough to make the absence of an answer feel like one in itself.

which, unfortunately for him, told you everything you needed to know.

“we both know i do.”

the words settled into the kitchen heavily enough that the silence afterward felt almost suffocating.

you became suddenly aware of everything at once, the sticky counter pressing faintly beneath your fingertips, the hum of the refrigerator vibrating softly through the room, water still dripping from the tap beside sohee in slow uneven intervals that sounded unnaturally loud now.

sohee stayed standing there with the empty glass hanging loose in his hand and there was something uniquely unpleasant about the composure of it all. the comment had been cruel enough on its own, but what lingered afterward felt worse somehow, because nothing about him suggested he'd spoken impulsively or regretted it the second it left his mouth. he looked exactly the same as he had before, standing there with that same unwavering certainty settled across his face, as though his dislike of you was not something he wrestled with but simply a conclusion he'd reached a long time ago and no longer felt any need to hide.

you opened your mouth to answer him, the words already sitting there ready to leave, but somewhere down the hallway came the heavy sound of footsteps dragging unevenly across the floorboards followed by the low rough scrape of a yawn, and a second later sungchan appeared in the kitchen doorway still half asleep.

he looked completely wrecked by sleep in the most predictable way possible, hair flattened messily against one side of his head, eyes narrowed against the brightness while he rubbed distractedly at his face with the heel of his palm before letting his arm fall again. he hadn’t bothered pulling a shirt on either before following you out of the bedroom, only a pair of dark sweatpants hanging low on his hips, and the second he stepped properly into the kitchen the marks left behind from the night before became impossible to miss. red scratches dragged unevenly across the broad slope of his chest and shoulder, darker bruises scattered beneath his collarbone and throat where your mouth had lingered too long hours earlier, all of it exposed carelessly beneath the harsh honesty of daylight.

his gaze found you immediately.

whatever lingering tension had settled through the kitchen seconds earlier seemed completely lost on him still, buried beneath sleep and whatever soft haze remained from waking up warm beside somebody. he crossed toward you without hesitation, movements slow and heavy with exhaustion while another yawn caught him halfway across the room.

“why’d you leave,” he mumbled, voice roughened by sleep.

before you could answer properly his arms slid automatically around your waist from behind, chest pressing warm against your back while he folded himself into your space like it was instinctive by now. the weight of him settled heavily against your shoulders while his face disappeared into the crook of your neck, breath warm against your skin before he pressed two absentminded kisses there, lazy enough to feel unconscious.

you barely reacted beyond shifting slightly against him to keep spreading chocolate across the toast balanced in your hand. the knife scraped softly over bread while sungchan stayed draped over your back, eyes probably half closed again by now judging from the way his body seemed to melt heavier against yours with every passing second. your fingers lifted automatically anyway, brushing once through the messy hair at the nape of his neck out of habit while you took a bite from the corner of the toast.

“couldn’t sleep with you crushing my organs,” you muttered around the mouthful.

sungchan laughed quietly against your neck, the sound low and tired while his mouth brushed carelessly over one of the darker marks there again.

“you're so dramatic.”

across the kitchen sohee hadn’t moved from the counter.

his eyes stayed fixed somewhere near the sink rather than directly at either of you, lingering there with an intensity that suggested the opposite wall had suddenly become the most fascinating thing in the apartment.

sungchan stood there with sleep still clinging warmly to his body, face buried against your neck while your scent lingered all over his skin and the marks from last night sat openly across his chest in front of the one person in the apartment who looked least interested in seeing them. sungchan stayed folded around you comfortably enough that the intimacy of it started feeling almost invasive beneath the silence pressing in from the other side of the room.

“jesus christ,” he muttered, voice rough with exhaustion and something meaner sitting underneath it. “you guys are disgusting.”

the words landed flatly into the kitchen air, not loud enough to qualify as a real complaint and somehow worse because of it, the kind of under-the-breath remark that sounded like it had slipped out before he could stop himself.

sungchan finally lifted his head slightly at that, sleep still lingering visibly across his face, softening the sheepish grin pulling briefly at the corner of his mouth while one arm remained looped lazily around your waist.

“sorry bro,” he mumbled, though the apology came out distracted, almost fond in the absentminded way people apologised for things they had no real intention of stopping.

a small ugly thought slipped quietly into place the second you looked at sohee properly again and saw the way his jaw locked tighter beneath the apology, the way his shoulders had gone rigid enough to sharpen the entire line of his posture while he stared fixedly at the counter instead of either of you. something about it scratched at you immediately, something deeply satisfying in watching composure crack visibly across somebody who spent so much time acting above you, disgusted by you, permanently one second away from looking at you like he regretted sharing oxygen in the same room.

suddenly you wanted to see how far it could go.

sungchan had already started pulling away again by then, attention drifting back toward the kitchen half asleep now that he’d acknowledged the comment, but before he could properly step back you caught the silver chain resting against his chest between your fingers and tugged him downward again.

the metal pressed cold briefly against your fingers while his body stumbled back toward yours on instinct, surprise flickering faintly across his face before your mouth crashed against his, hard enough to stop thought completely.

the kiss turned messy almost immediately, not slow or affectionate but excessive in a way that bordered on ugly, all wet mouths and clashing teeth and the sharp pull of the chain still wrapped around your hand while sungchan made a startled sound low in his throat before kissing you back just as hard. your toast stayed abandoned forgotten against the counter while his hands tightened instinctively around your waist again, one sliding upward against your ribs beneath the oversized shirt as the kiss deepened into something far too heavy for the middle of a quiet kitchen at nine in the morning.

when you finally pulled apart for air a second later, it happened slowly enough to feel almost deliberate. a thin string of saliva stretched briefly between your mouths before snapping apart, sungchan still close enough that his breath stayed warm against your lips while his fingers flexed harder against your waist beneath the fabric. his mouth looked swollen already, slightly parted from the force of the kiss, and for a second neither of you moved away properly, still suspended too close together in the thick stale heat hanging through the kitchen.

then you looked at sohee, really looked at him.

sohee remained where he was beside the counter, and for a second his attention seemed to catch on the sight of you still half tangled around sungchan before he remembered himself. the look lingered only briefly, yet it felt longer somehow, long enough for you to watch something dark pass across his face before he finally dragged his gaze elsewhere. whatever composure had been holding together the edges of the morning no longer looked quite as effortless as it had earlier, the disgust sitting openly across his features now in a way that felt almost impossible to misinterpret.

something about the reaction exhilarated you in a way you hadn’t expected, the sheer intensity of his visible discomfort scratching at something mean beneath your skin while the overheated kitchen seemed to close tighter around the three of you. your mouth curled faintly before you could stop it, teeth catching lightly against your lower lip while sohee’s expression hardened further at the sight, and before the silence had time to settle properly again your fingers tightened around sungchan’s chain once more as you pulled him back down toward you.

this kiss deepened immediately, slower this time, but somehow worse for it.

your mouth opened against his without hesitation while sungchan let out another low sound that disappeared into the kiss itself, hands tightening harder around your waist as your fingers drifted downward beneath the oversized shirt, brushing dangerously close to the waistband of his sweatpants. not enough to actually touch him there, but enough that his breathing faltered faintly against your mouth anyway, his body reacting on instinct while the kiss grew heavier, wetter, excessive enough that the entire thing started feeling deliberately uncomfortable beneath the silence hanging through the kitchen.

across the room, sohee shoved himself away from the counter so abruptly the empty glass beside him tipped sideways with a sharp crack against the marble, the sound slicing cleanly through the thick silence hanging in the kitchen and finally pulling sungchan away from your mouth.

the kiss broke messily, slowly, sungchan staying close enough that his breath still lingered warm against your lips while one of his hands remained spread beneath the oversized shirt at your waist. confusion flickered briefly across his face first before the sluggish embarrassment followed behind it, his eyes shifting toward the counter where sohee had already moved away from the sink.

“bro, i—”

the apology barely made it halfway out before sohee cut straight through it by moving again.

he crossed the kitchen too quickly, every movement carrying that same tightly restrained sharpness that had been sitting beneath his skin since walking into the room and finding you there. he grabbed the fallen glass from beside the sink without looking toward either of you once, shoving it upright beneath the tap while water rushed noisily into it. sohee stood there with his back half turned, one hand flattening briefly against the front of his sweatpants near the waistband before dropping away again almost immediately.

sungchan shifted slightly behind you now, finally seeming awake enough to recognise properly that the atmosphere in the kitchen had curdled into something deeply uncomfortable while he stood caught awkwardly in the middle of it. you could feel the hesitation settle through him in the way his grip loosened fractionally at your waist, torn somewhere between lingering embarrassment and the instinctive need to smooth things over before they escalated further.

but sohee clearly had no interest in helping him do that.

he drained the glass of water too quickly before shoving it back into the sink with another dull clatter, still refusing to look directly at either of you while he reached for the hoodie hanging over one of the kitchen chairs. he dragged it over his head in one rough motion, messy hair catching briefly beneath the fabric before stepping toward the hallway again, his voice cut low through the kitchen without him bothering to turn around.

“you guys make me sick.”

the words landed heavily enough to seem to settle into the walls themselves, sungchan going still behind you for a second after that, caught halfway between guilt and frustration while sohee disappeared down the hallway without waiting for a response, the sound of his bedroom door shutting a moment later muffled but firm enough to linger afterward in the silence.

the apartment felt strangely hollow once he was gone, not calmer, just empty.

the tap still dripped steadily into the sink beside the abandoned glass and somewhere behind you sungchan exhaled softly through his nose before letting his forehead drop briefly against your shoulder. you could already feel him trying to think through whatever had just happened, trying to rearrange it into something smaller and less uncomfortable than it actually was, but your attention stayed fixed on the hallway instead, on the lingering echo of sohee’s reaction and the sharp ugly thrill that still sat curling low in your chest because of it.

𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚

a week later, exhaustion had settled so deeply into your body that it no longer arrived in waves anymore. it simply existed there constantly, stitched into your muscles and behind your eyes, dragging everything slightly out of focus no matter how much caffeine you poured into yourself to fight it.

by the time you finally submitted the essay for your literature class due that morning, your brain already felt half rotten from lack of sleep, thoughts moving sluggishly beneath the fluorescent glow of the lamp in your room after spending most of the night switching uselessly between half-written paragraphs and sungchan’s mouth whenever he distracted you from working long enough to pull you back into bed.

college had started feeling like that lately. not difficult exactly, just repetitive in a way that slowly hollowed the days into each other until everything blurred together into the same cycle of unfinished assignments, energy drinks, overcrowded lecture halls and sleeping far too little before forcing yourself awake to do it all over again.

by noon your entire body ached with tiredness. two empty energy drink cans sat crushed inside your tote bag alongside crumpled snack wrappers and loose sheets of annotated readings you hadn’t touched properly in days, and every sound around you felt louder than it should have beneath the dull headache pressing steadily behind your temples. conversations overlapped endlessly through the hallways outside the lecture theatres, hundreds of voices bleeding together beneath squeaking trainers against polished floors and the constant buzz of phones vibrating across desks, while groups of students drifted lazily between classes clutching iced coffees.

you barely registered most of it anymore while making your way through campus, shoulders heavy beneath your bag as another cold gust of wind followed students in through the automatic doors, dragging yourself toward the cafeteria.

the place was already packed when you stepped inside, tables crowded with half-open laptops, untouched salads, coffee cups balanced dangerously close to lecture notes. your eyes found your friends near the middle of the cafeteria almost immediately.

mina spotted you first. her entire face twisted the second you approached the table, somewhere between concern and outright disbelief before she burst into laughter loud enough to make chaewon glance up from her phone too.

“oh my god,” chaewon snorted, shoving her tray slightly aside to make room for your bag when you reached them.

“you look actually dead.”

you dropped into the empty chair beside them without even bothering to answer properly, letting your forehead fall heavily against the cool surface of the table with a groan muffled into crossed arms.

“don’t talk to me,” you muttered weakly. “if anybody speaks too loudly near me i might genuinely throw up.”

jiwon laughed from across the table while tearing open another ketchup packet. the sugary iced coffee chaewon pushed toward you smelled almost painfully sweet when it landed beside your elbow.

still, you took it immediately.

your fingers curled around the cold plastic cup while the girls slipped easily back into conversation around you, gossip bleeding between complaints about assignments and lectures in the effortless way it always did whenever the four of you ended up together between classes. 

“what time did you even go to bed this time?” jiwon asked eventually, watching you with the same mixture of concern and judgement people usually reserved for raccoons digging through bins at three in the morning.

you didn’t even bother lifting your head properly from the table when you answered.

“that’s presuming i went to bed.”

“maybe,” mina started, carefully setting her coffee cup down, “if you spent less time fucking sungchan and more time actually doing the work assigned to you, you wouldn’t constantly look like you’re on the verge of death.”

jiwon gasped immediately despite the smile pulling at her mouth while chaewon nearly choked on one of her fries, shoulders shaking with laughter as you lifted your middle finger weakly in response.

“it’s for health reasons,” you muttered flatly.

“stress is bad for the body. what am i supposed to do when i need tension relief? obviously i get fucked by sungchan.”

“yeah but every other night?” she shot back. “surely you’re not that stressed.”

“you’d be surprised.”

mina stared at you another second before something visibly clicked behind her eyes, and then suddenly she was folding over the table cackling so hard she could barely get the words out properly.

“wait—” she wheezed, grabbing jiwon’s sleeve for support while laughing harder. “oh my god, sungchan’s literally just your stress ball. no, seriously, think about it. because he has balls and i bet you squeeze those when you’re stressed too—”

chaewon nearly slammed her forehead into the table laughing while jiwon shouted a sharp “mina!”, loud enough to draw annoyed glances from another table nearby, but you only rolled your eyes despite the smile tugging faintly at your mouth now.

“laugh all you want,” you muttered. “you’re just bitter because jaehyun got a girlfriend and now you can’t call him every weekend to dick you down anymore.”

her smile faltered into exaggerated offence while the others burst into louder laughter at her expense this time, and she pointed at you with a deeply wounded expression plastered across her face.

“that’s a touchy subject actually,” she informed the table solemnly. “i’m still in mourning.”

“thoughts and prayers,” you replied dryly before taking another sip of coffee.

“i do wish i had a sungchan though,” she admitted after a second. “like objectively speaking, it must be nice having somebody that obsessed with you. and he's good in bed.”

“it is,” you answered easily, stretching back slightly in your chair now that the caffeine had finally started hitting your bloodstream.

“when he’s not being emotional about everything. i swear every time we fuck he starts talking about how much he misses me or how i’m the love of his life or whatever.”

“this pussy must genuinely be made out of gold,” you finished with a shrug.

“ENOUGH.”

“oh my god, please shut up.”

“nobody asked for this.”

you only laughed this time, slower and more awake now while mina stared across the table looking personally offended.

“oh,” chaewon muttered suddenly, eyebrows lifting faintly. “speak of the devil.”

you frowned before turning slightly in your seat, following her line of sight across the room.

sungchan had just stepped into the cafeteria, one hand hooked loosely around the strap of his bag while the other pushed distractedly through his hair as though he’d only just dragged himself awake properly within the last hour. people greeted him constantly without seeming to think about it and sungchan slowed for everyone without ever seeming irritated by it.

he reached the table a few minutes later, dropping his bag carelessly beside the empty chair nearest to you before leaning down automatically, one hand brushing lightly against the back of your seat as his mouth pressed briefly against your cheek in greeting.

“you look exhausted,” he murmured quietly.

“i am exhausted.”

his laugh stayed low beneath the surrounding cafeteria noise while he straightened again, finally acknowledging the rest of the table with an easy nod.

“hi.”

greetings circled back casually enough between your friends and him, familiar and brief after two years of watching sungchan orbit in and out of your life in one form or another.

the conversation flowed back into itself after that, with the same careless familiarity that always seemed to exist whenever your friends gathered together long enough between lectures. chaewon had already started complaining again about one of her professors assigning another reading packet nobody intended to finish while jiwon scrolled halfheartedly through her calendar trying to figure out when exactly all of her deadlines had become impossible to keep track of. beside you sungchan stole fries from mina’s tray with the kind of absent entitlement that suggested he’d been doing it for years.

absentmindedly, your eyes wandered around the room, stopping on two girls near the vending machines. you recognised one of them properly now that you looked longer, dark hair tucked behind one ear while she leaned lazily against the wall listening to the other girl speak. 

yuna.

you’d seen her around enough times through sungchan’s wider social circle to place her immediately, usually lingering around parties with some of sohee’s friends or sitting near them during campus events. not close enough to matter personally, but familiar enough.

and now she was looking directly toward your table in brief glances threaded between conversation, her attention flicking toward sungchan beside you before shifting quickly back toward the girl she was talking to. the other girl noticed it too eventually, following yuna’s gaze until both of them looked toward your table at the exact moment sungchan leaned closer to steal the iced coffee from your hand without asking first.

normally you probably wouldn’t have thought much of it. people knew sungchan and they looked at sungchan all the time. still, something about the exchange sat strangely with you anyway, even after your attention returned to the conversation unfolding around the table.

beside you, sungchan remained completely oblivious to any of it.

mina slapped his hand away for what was probably the fourth time after catching him reaching across the table to steal another fry from her tray, and the sound of his laugh slipped easily into the noise of the cafeteria while he leaned back in his chair.

“you genuinely eat like somebody raised in captivity,” mina informed him flatly while dragging her tray farther out of his reach.

“you’ve eaten more of my food than your own.”

“sharing builds community.”

“i don’t want to build a community with you, dimwit.”

sungchan only grinned at that, slow and unbothered, before his knee knocked lightly against yours again beneath the table. then, from the corner of your eye, movement caught your attention again.

yuna had started walking toward your table. the girl beside her followed half a step behind while yuna adjusted the sleeve of her sweater absently, gaze fixed toward sungchan now with the casual confidence of somebody approaching a conversation she expected to slide into easily. 

“hey,” yuna greeted once she reached the table, voice light while the girl beside her hovered quietly near her shoulder. 

most of her attention settled on sungchan immediately, though not naturally enough to completely disguise the awareness sitting underneath it. you caught it anyway in the brief flickers of her gaze toward you and back again, the slight hesitation before speaking, like she was trying to navigate around something awkward without fully understanding where the awkwardness had even come from in the first place.

sungchan looked up first, expression easing easily into recognition. “oh, hey yuna. minji.”

“we’re still doing minseok’s party tomorrow,” she said. “you’re coming, right?”

“probably,” sungchan answered. “i completely forgot that was this weekend.”

“you disappeared halfway through the last one,” minji added with a laugh. “you still owe yuna for abandoning her during beer pong.”

sungchan smiled faintly beneath the accusation, rubbing absently at the back of his neck.“i had an early class the next day. i couldn't stay up late like the rest of you guys.”

“sure,” yuna replied, clearly unconvinced.

the smile pulling at her mouth lingered a second longer before she shifted the coffee cup between her hands and looked back at him properly.

“well, you can make it up to me tomorrow.”

“how?”

“show up before everyone else for once.”

the answer came easily enough that it almost sounded rehearsed.

“i'm serious. everybody always turns up late anyway.” her head tilted slightly toward him. “come early with me. we can get drinks before the place gets packed and i'll decide whether i've forgiven you yet.”

there was nothing overtly inappropriate in the suggestion itself. if anything, the confidence behind it was what made it obvious. the assumption that he would say yes, that there was room for the question in the first place.

the shift in sungchan happened almost immediately afterward, the easy openness he'd greeted her with moments earlier tightened faintly around the edges while his eyes flicked instinctively toward you before returning to her again, like he'd noticed that this conversation was no longer socially neutral.

“uh,” he started, laughter slipping awkwardly beneath his breath while one hand settled loosely against the side of your chair near your waist.

“i was actually planning on going with them.”

his gaze drifted briefly toward you.

“and honestly i don't think y/n would be too happy if i disappeared with somebody else before the party.”

his tone stayed gentle throughout it, apologetic almost, the kind of soft rejection only somebody like sungchan could deliver without making the other person feel openly embarrassed. still, the effect landed immediately.

you watched confusion surface visibly across yuna’s face before she could smooth it away. not jealousy, not even annoyance, just genuine confusion.

minji looked between you and sungchan too now, expression faltering slightly as though the picture sitting in front of her no longer matched the version she’d been carrying around beforehand.

“oh,” she said slowly. “i didn’t realise you guys were..”

the silence that followed settled thickly across the table, because at the exact same moment sungchan answered, you did too.

“we’re not—”

“we’re figuring things out.”

the overlap cut awkwardly through the middle of the conversation before collapsing into silence all over again, and beside you sungchan immediately stopped speaking while minji visibly realised she’d stepped into something far messier than she’d originally intended approaching the table.

“sorry,” she corrected quickly. “i just thought—”

she hesitated briefly, eyes flicking toward yuna before continuing automatically.

“but that’s not what sohe—”

yuna reacted instantly.

“we should go,” she interrupted sharply over the end of the sentence, fingers catching lightly around her friend’s wrist before she could finish whatever she’d been about to say. awkwardness had started creeping visibly into both their expressions now, discomfort spreading fast.

they were leaving before anybody else could properly respond, disappearing back into the noise of the cafeteria while the strange heaviness left behind stretched across the table in their absence.

mina was the first one to break the silence.

“i’ll give you five bucks right now,” she muttered flatly, watching the two girls retreat across the cafeteria, “if sohee’s not the one feeding people bullshit about the two of you."

the mention of his name landed unpleasantly in the middle of your chest, like a match against something already overheated.

you felt it almost instantly, that ugly flare of annoyance twisting sharper beneath your ribs now that the pieces had finally started arranging themselves properly together.

lee sohee. of course it was him. it had to be.

across from you, chaewon rolled her eyes faintly before leaning back into her chair with an expression somewhere between disbelief and exhaustion.

“that guy genuinely needs psychiatric help,” she muttered. “like actually.”

“honestly, at this point i'd be more surprised if it wasn't.”

“guys,” sungchan cut in quietly, the discomfort finally visible now in the slight tension pulling between his brows. “why would sohee even be talking about us?”

mina turned toward him so quickly it almost made you laugh.

“sungchan.”

“what?”

“you cannot be serious.”

“i am serious,” he answered, though the confidence behind it already sounded weaker now.

“because he hates her,” chaewon replied flatly, gesturing vaguely toward you. “have we all forgotten that?”

“okay,” sungchan sighed, rubbing tiredly at the back of his neck. “he doesn't like her. we all know that. but that's completely different from him going around talking about us to random people.”

“is it?” mina asked.

the question hung there for a second.

“because yuna didn't act like somebody taking a shot in the dark. she acted like somebody who thought she had a genuine chance.”

“we were broken up for a while,” sungchan replied, though there was already less certainty behind it than before. “people know that.”

“and now we're not,” you said flatly.

sungchan's eyes flicked toward you.

“that's not—”

“then what exactly is it?” irritation slipped into your voice before you could stop it. “because she seemed pretty comfortable asking you to ditch me and go drink with her alone.”

“i'm just saying i don't think sohee would do something like that.”

“really?" mina asked with a lifted eyebrow.

“i don't know,” he said after a moment, quieter now. “i just think there's probably another explanation.”

nobody at the table looked particularly convinced, least of all you.

there was something deeply violating about the assumption sitting underneath it all in a way you struggled to articulate properly even to yourself. the knowledge that somebody who already looked at you with such obvious contempt had apparently spent enough time talking about your private life for it to start leaking outward into other social circles entirely.

you did not care whether people thought you and sungchan were serious. you did not even particularly care whether people thought the situation between you was messy. what you cared about was the fact your business had somehow stopped being yours.

beside you, sungchan shifted slightly in his chair before his hand brushed lightly against your knee beneath the table, tentative enough to feel almost cautious now. you could tell he was trying to smooth things over before they became something uglier, trying to keep the fragile balance he always seemed desperate to maintain between you and sohee from cracking open completely in front of him.

but the frustration had already rooted itself too deeply by then to disappear so easily, sitting low and heavy, simmering steadily beneath your skin in a way that refused to cool no matter how much you tried brushing it aside afterward.

it lingered long after the conversation moved on. through the rest of your lectures while your attention drifted uselessly between powerpoint slides and unfinished notes. through the walk back to your apartment afterward. through the messages mina kept sending later that evening complaining about sohee on your behalf. 

it followed you all the way through to the next evening in quiet irritating waves, your apartment slowly filling with noise as music vibrated low through the walls as you all got ready for minseok's party. makeup products cluttered every available surface around your vanity, tangled necklaces mixed between half-zipped bags and abandoned hair clips while the sharp smell of perfume and setting spray settled thickly through the room beneath the heat coming from your curling iron left running against the counter.

outside the windows the city glowed softly beneath the darkening sky, headlights smearing into blurred ribbons of white and gold against rain-damp streets while somewhere below your apartment building groups of students drifted between bars and pre-drinks wrapped in jackets against the cold. 

usually the ritual of getting ready helped smooth you back into yourself again. there was something easy about nights like this most of the time, sitting cross-legged on the floor while mina argued loudly about outfits she claimed to hate five minutes after choosing them herself, chaewon stealing your lip gloss without asking, jiwon stretched across your bed scrolling absentmindedly through playlists trying to find music everyone agreed on.

but tonight your patience felt thinner than usual. annoyance sat there stubbornly, dull and oppressive and impossible to ignore no matter how many times you tried pushing the entire situation to the back of your mind.

you stood in front of the mirror dragging eyeliner carefully along your lashline while mina hovered behind you trying to clasp your necklace into place with noticeably declining patience.

“hold still,” she complained.

“i am holding still.”

“you keep moving your head.”

“because you’re yanking my shoulder off.”

mina clicked her tongue in annoyance before finally managing to fasten the necklace properly. “there. god. you act like a difficult toddler.”

you fell quiet, turning back to your hair as sohee's name surfaced again, mina’s earlier jokes about committing acts of violence against him still sitting somewhere in the back of your head.

behind you, chaewon glanced up from where she sat curled against the edge of your bed adjusting the strap of her heel.

“if he says one weird thing to you tonight i’m throwing my drink at him.”

“please don’t,” jiwon sighed from the pillows. “i don’t wanna get kicked out just because drunk chae wants to get activated.”

“why are we acting like i’m the problem? he’s literally evil. spawn of satan even."

despite yourself, a small laugh escaped through your nose at that.

the sound of the apartment buzzer cut briefly through the music, jiwon glancing up first from where she sat cross-legged near the end of your bed.

“that’s probably sungchan,” she said, pushing herself up from the mattress while smoothing down the front of her skirt.

“finally. if mina keeps changing outfits we’re genuinely never leaving this apartment.”

“i heard that,”mina shouted from somewhere inside your bathroom.

the apartment door opened less than a minute later followed by the low murmur of voices drifting faintly down the hallway before footsteps approached your bedroom. you barely looked up at first, attention fixed on the careful line of lip liner gliding across your mouth through the mirror before giving him a glance and he looked good tonight, annoyingly good, honestly.

the black shirt stretched cleanly across his chest and shoulders beneath the leather jacket hanging open against his frame while silver glinted softly at his throat from the chain resting against his skin. his jeans sat low against his hips in that careless way that somehow only made him look broader, longer, and hanging loosely from one of the belt loops near his thigh was the small basketball charm you’d bought for him months ago during one of those stupid little shopping trips neither of you had even planned on turning into a date at the time. you had forgotten about it entirely until now.

“damn,” he laughed quietly, gaze moving over the disaster zone of makeup and clothes covering nearly every surface. 

“it looks like a war zone in here.”

he greeted the others easily enough, exchanging quick familiarities. through all of it you barely shifted from the mirror, still smoothing carefully along the edge of your bottom lip while the conversation blurred softly together behind you.

warmth settled suddenly against your back. sungchan’s hands slid loosely around your waist from behind while he leaned forward enough for his chin to rest against your shoulder, the weight of him familiar and heavy.

“hi,” he murmured quietly.

you hummed absently in response without pausing your makeup, continuing to blend the edge of the liner with your fingertip while his hold around your waist tightened slightly for a second like he was trying to pull himself a little closer.

the shift in him afterward was subtle as he straightened slightly behind you before one of his hands slipped upward from your waist. his fingers brushed lightly along your jaw before hooking gently beneath your chin, angling your face back toward him until your eyes finally met his properly through the mirror. up close, the concern sitting beneath his expression became easier to read, softened into the slight pull between his brows and the careful way his gaze searched yours like he was trying to gauge what mood he had walked into tonight before deciding how to handle it.

“you’re still mad at me."

you rolled your eyes faintly, though not with much real energy behind it. “i’m not mad.”

the corner of his mouth twitched slightly at that like he did not believe you for even a second. his thumb brushed once absently beneath your jaw while he continued watching you, warm and patient in that way that normally made it impossible to stay irritated with him for very long.

behind you mina made a loud disgusted noise from somewhere near the bed, complaining dramatically about the two of you, but neither of you paid much attention to her. the previous night still sat unpleasantly between you both, unresolved in that quiet lingering way arguments sometimes became when neither person felt strongly enough to keep fighting but neither fully let the irritation go either.

the argument itself had not even been particularly serious in hindsight. sungchan had done what he always did whenever things involving sohee started turning ugly, trying to soften the situation before it escalated any further while you grew increasingly annoyed by how determined he seemed to be to keep the peace no matter who ended up frustrated in the process. he had told you people talked all the time, that you were blowing things out of proportion and to not let it get to you so much.

“i just think you’re letting it bother you too much,” he said carefully after a moment, voice quieter now beneath the music still playing through the apartment.

“people say stupid shit all the time, it doesn’t matter as long as we know what the truth is.”

you reached automatically for your lipgloss again before answering, twisting the lid of the tube open slower than necessary while irritation curled low and unpleasant through your chest all over again. 

“yeah,” you replied coolly, finally meeting his eyes through the mirror once more, “and your best friend seems to enjoy giving them material.”

the discomfort crossing his face afterward appeared immediately, something close to exhaustion, like he could already feel the conversation slipping toward the same place it always did whenever sohee became involved somehow. around the room the others fell quieter without meaning to.

"you sure love defending him too."

“i’m not defending him,” sungchan said softly after a second.

a quiet laugh escaped through your nose before you twisted the lipgloss shut harder than necessary and finally turned properly toward him now, the movement forcing him to take half a step back to make room between your bodies.

“you always say that right before defending him.”

something flickered faintly across his face at that. it was the exact same expression he used to wear during arguments toward the end of your relationship, back when every disagreement somehow managed to stretch itself across entire days because sungchan could never stop himself from trying to keep everybody happy at once. even when things between you had already started rotting quietly beneath the surface, he still approached conflict the same way every single time, desperate to smooth rough edges down before anybody could get hurt badly enough to leave permanent damage behind. 

arguments with him never burned hot and fast. they dragged, lingered, turned into exhausted half-conversations at three in the morning and careful apologies neither of you fully meant just because sungchan hated tension enough to keep trying to fix it long after there was anything left worth fixing.

you could already feel this conversation threatening to become the same thing if it continued.

sungchan exhaled quietly through his nose, gaze dropping briefly toward the floor before lifting back toward you again. he opened his mouth like he was about to explain himself further, probably something measured and reasonable and endlessly diplomatic that would only irritate you more the longer he spoke, but before either of you could continue, chaewon abruptly stepped between the two of you holding out a shot glass toward your chest with the exhausted expression of somebody interrupting children mid argument.

“absolutely not,” she announced flatly while pressing the drink into your hand. 

“whatever weird divorced energy this is can wait until after the party."

the interruption broke the tension just enough for the room to loosen around the edges again. 

sungchan finally gave up on whatever he had been about to say, rubbing tiredly at the back of his neck before reaching automatically for your jacket instead. you tipped the shot back in one swallow, cheap alcohol burning sharply down your throat as everybody finally started gathering their things to leave.

by the time you had arrived near minseok’s house the alcohol had softened the edges of your mood slightly. the drive over had dissolved mostly into overlapping noise from the girls in the backseat arguing over music and shouting half-drunk stories over one another while sungchan drove with one hand loose against the steering wheel, city lights sliding in blurred streaks across the sharp angles of his face every time another car passed in the opposite direction.

the party was already spilling halfway out onto the street by the time you got there.

music thundered loudly enough that you could feel the bass vibrating through the pavement before you even stepped fully out of the car, warm bodies crowding the front lawn in loose clusters beneath strings of coloured lights. the sharp earthy smell of weed already bleeding thickly into the cold night air before you even reached the front door and inside felt worse, hotter.

the kind of suffocating heat that only existed inside overcrowded college parties where too many bodies had been packed together for too many hours already, sweat and cheap alcohol settling heavily into the air beneath flashing strobe lights that painted everything in brief violent bursts of colour. 

mina grabbed your wrist almost immediately after stepping inside so nobody lost each other in the crowd, chaewon following close behind while sungchan stayed automatically at your back guiding you through the bodies pressing shoulder to shoulder around the entrance hallway. every few steps somebody stopped him to say hello, and each time he responded easily enough before turning back toward your group again almost immediately.

within the first twenty minutes the party had already started dissolving your group apart in the same natural way it always did once enough alcohol and noise got involved. chaewon disappeared first after loudly announcing she was “finding something stronger before she developed sobriety,” vanishing somewhere toward the kitchen with a determined expression and mina immediately yelling after her not to accept mystery jungle juice from engineering students again. not even five minutes later mina herself had dragged jiwon toward the centre of the living room where people were already dancing with the kind of reckless commitment usually reserved for much later in the night, disappearing quickly into the shifting crowd before either of them could be talked out of it.

you let them go without much thought. honestly, all you really wanted at that point was to get drunk enough for your brain to finally quiet down. the irritation from the past two days still lingered stubbornly and the more you tried not to think about it, the more it kept circling back anyway, ugly in its persistence.

so instead you drank. a vodka soda somebody shoved into your hand near the kitchen. half of mina’s drink that she had abandoned on the counter you leaned against. another shot pressed into your palm by somebody you vaguely recognised from one of your classes.

after a while the alcohol began settling properly into your bloodstream, loosening something inside you. your body felt lighter than it had earlier, thoughts moving a little slower around the edges while warmth lingered steadily across your cheeks. every now and then you caught yourself swaying slightly when you stopped moving for too long, the room never quite spinning but shifting just enough beneath your feet to remind you exactly how much you'd already had to drink.

eventually you ended up leaning against the wall near the entrance to the kitchen, momentarily removed from the worst of the crowd while taking another slow sip from your drink. from there you could still see sungchan not too far away across the room, trapped in conversation with two guys from the volleyball society while somebody else kept trying unsuccessfully to pull him into a drinking game happening near the kitchen island.

after another few minutes sungchan finally seemed to escape whatever conversation had trapped him across the room. not that it made much difference at first. people still kept stopping him on the way back, brief interruptions stretching what should have been a simple walk across the room into something noticeably longer. from where you stood, half distracted by the vodka settling warmly through your bloodstream, the whole thing felt oddly familiar. sungchan had always moved through rooms like that, never quite belonging entirely to himself once enough people were around.

“hey,” sungchan said once he stopped in front of you, voice lowered instinctively now that he was close enough not to shout over the music.

his hand settled automatically against the small of your back while he spoke, fingers spreading lightly over the exposed skin there before his thumb started moving in slow absentminded circles against one of the dimples near your spine. standing this close, the rest of the room seemed to narrow around him until most of what you could see was leather, broad shoulders and the line of his chest. his leather jacket smelled faintly like alcohol and cologne, warmth radiating from him strongly enough after spending the last hour moving through overcrowded rooms that it almost clung against your skin too.

for a few seconds neither of you really said anything while the crowd shifted around you in restless waves, then sungchan’s mouth twitched slightly.

“no dancing on tables tonight?”

despite yourself, a brief grin pulled at your mouth before you tipped your head back lightly against the wall behind you.

“definitely not in minseok’s apartment,” you answered dryly. “god knows what’s been done on that counter.”

the laugh that escaped him came easy, low and genuine enough to pull a quieter one from you too before the sound dissolved naturally back into the chaos around you. afterward the moment softened slightly into something quieter between the two of you, sungchan still standing close while his eyes searched your face more carefully now that you had finally smiled at him properly for the first time all evening.

“and us?” he asked after a moment, voice gentler now beneath the noise surrounding you. “we’re okay?”

instead of answering immediately, you lifted the drink toward your lips only to realise the cup was empty, ice knocking quietly against the plastic while your gaze drifted briefly somewhere over his shoulder.

there was no point dragging this out anyway.

sungchan was not your boyfriend anymore, and the entire reason the two of you had slipped into this strange undefined limbo in the first place was specifically to avoid situations like this, avoid expectations and conversations and the slow exhausting feeling of slipping back into old habits that demanded far more emotional investment than you actually wanted to give him. the relationship had already died once beneath the weight of too many unresolved fractures.

so you just placed the empty cup into his hands instead.

“we will be if you get me a refill.”

something visibly eased across his face at that, subtle but immediate enough for you to catch it anyway.

“one vodka lemonade,” he said while lifting the cup slightly in acknowledgment, “coming right up.”

then he gave a stupid little salute that made you snort quietly beneath your breath before finally stepping away from in front of you and disappearing back toward the kitchen, the crowd parting around his broad frame as your eyes followed him automatically across the room.

halfway toward the kitchen, he spotted sohee. you noticed the recognition immediately in the way sungchan’s pace shifted slightly before he angled naturally toward the opposite side of the room, one hand still holding your empty cup while he lifted the other briefly in greeting across the crowd.

and that was when you saw sohee properly for the first time that night.

the irritation that had been sitting stubbornly for the past two days seemed to sharpen immediately the second your eyes landed on him, spreading through your body in a way that felt almost physical. it settled low beneath your ribs before unfurling slowly outward, hot enough that your chest burned with it.

he stood near the corner of the living room beside one of the speakers, half-leaning back against the wall with a drink hanging loose from his fingers. the heat inside the house had softened him slightly around the edges compared to the version of him you usually saw, dark blond hair messier now where either his own hands or somebody else’s had clearly pushed through it repeatedly throughout the night, strands falling low across his forehead.

the black sleeveless top he wore clung close enough to show the lean definition of his torso beneath it, exposing toned arms already lightly flushed from alcohol while low-rise jeans hung carelessly against narrow hips secured with a dark belt sitting loose enough for the white waistband of his calvin klein boxers to become briefly visible whenever he shifted position or laughed.

and worst of all, he looked comfortable. comfortable enough that something about it felt almost disorientating to witness after months of dealing with the version of him that existed only around you, all cold silences and passive cruelty and sharp little comments designed to poison the atmosphere the second you walked into it.

right now none of that seemed visible anywhere on him. he was laughing quietly at something sungchan said after finally reaching him, shoulders loose while one of his friends shoved hard against his arm and nearly knocked the drink from his hand entirely. instead of snapping like you half expected him to, sohee only laughed again before pushing back at the guy’s chest while the rest of the group crowded around them shouted drunkenly over the music.

you hated that, hated the sharp imbalance of it. hated the fact that you had spent hours replaying unfinished sentences and ugly implications in your head while he apparently moved through life untouched by any of it.

it made something bitter curl tighter inside your chest.

almost like sungchan could physically feel the weight of your stare from across the room and suddenly remembered why he had walked away from you in the first place, his expression shifted slightly. he glanced back toward where you stood against the wall before nodding once toward the kitchen with his head, lifting your empty cup briefly in indication that he was finally going to get the refill he had promised you.

instinctively, your gaze found sohee again, almost before you properly realised you were searching for him, some part of you already anticipating the familiar shift that usually happened whenever he noticed your presence somewhere nearby. over the past few months you had become used to it despite yourself, the visible hardening that entered his expression the second his eyes landed on you, the subtle tightening through his shoulders and jaw, the way entire rooms seemed to cool several degrees whenever the two of you occupied the same space for too long.

but nothing happened.

even after sungchan stepped away, sohee never looked in your direction. he remained where he was near the speaker, one shoulder resting lazily against the wall while conversation continued around him, answering whatever was being said with the same easy familiarity as before without once glancing across the room.

your jaw tightened faintly while you continued staring across the room longer than you probably should have. from this distance it would have been impossible for him not to know you were there. sungchan had literally just walked away from your side moments earlier. there was no realistic way sohee had somehow failed to notice that.

which meant he was choosing not to look.

after all the hostility and sharp silences and passive cruelty that seemed to follow him every time the two of you ended up trapped in the same room together, some ugly part of you had still expected recognition the second his eyes landed on you tonight. at least acknowledgment.

instead you got nothing.

after everything, the indifference felt oddly insulting, the humiliating awareness that you had spent nearly forty-eight hours carrying this situation around in your head while sohee stood twenty feet away looking completely untouched by any of it.

your eyes stayed fixed stubbornly across the room despite yourself, following the careless rhythm of his movements. the absent way he pushed his hair back from his forehead while listening to somebody beside him speak, the slight tilt of his mouth whenever another laugh escaped him, the complete absence of that familiar guardedness while people crowded around him as though nothing in the world required his attention beyond the conversation he was already having.

sungchan finally reappeared through the crowd carrying a fresh drink in one hand while a small group of his friends followed loosely behind him, the familiar shape of johnny immediately recognisable. wonbin walked beside him saying something that made the others laugh while somebody farther behind nearly stumbled directly into the kitchen counter hard enough to send drinks sloshing over the edge.

sungchan reached you first.

“here you go, m’lady,” he said with a grin while holding the vodka lemonade out toward you, condensation already dripping cold against his fingers from the plastic cup. the stupid theatricality of it almost pulled another smile from you, and beside him johnny immediately snorted.

“god,” he muttered dramatically, slinging an arm across wonbin’s shoulders. “you two make me feel violently single.”

“that sounds personal,” you answered dryly before finally taking the drink from sungchan’s hand.

johnny pointed vaguely toward you like he had just been deeply validated somehow while the rest of the group laughed behind him.

the warmth in his expression softened slightly once your fingers wrapped around the drink he had brought back for you, like the simple act of accepting it had eased something inside him again after the strange tension lingering between you both all evening. he stayed standing close enough that his shoulder brushed lightly against yours every time somebody shoved past too roughly through the crowd, broad frame instinctively angling slightly in front of you whenever groups stumbled too near.

“wonbin apparently has some new strain he’s been talking about for like three days straight,” sungchan said after a moment, glancing briefly toward the front hallway where people kept drifting in and out carrying coats and cigarettes. “they’re gonna smoke outside for a bit.”

wonbin lifted his hands immediately in self defence. “because unlike the rest of you degenerates, i actually value quality when it comes to what i'm smoking."

“you bought it from a guy that calls himself spider,” johnny replied flatly.

“that means nothing.”

“that means literally everything.”

another wave of laughter rolled loosely through the group while sungchan looked back toward you again, expression gentler now beneath the flashing lights. “you wanna come?” he asked. “it’s quieter outside.”

“i’m okay,” you answered before lifting the drink toward your lips.

sungchan studied your face for a second longer like he was trying to decide whether he believed you before eventually nodding anyway. he leaned down afterward before pressing a quick kiss against your cheek.

“don’t disappear,” he murmured lightly near your ear.

then he finally stepped away again, johnny immediately slinging an arm across sungchan’s shoulders the second they turned toward the front door while wonbin continued loudly defending his self proclaimed mastery in the art of weed purchasing. you watched them disappear gradually into the shifting crowd beneath the lights until the front door finally opened.

your focus moved vaguely between the drink in your hand and the movement across the room without fully settling on either for very long until suddenly mina appeared beside you again looking flushed and glowing from dancing, strands of hair sticking lightly against her forehead while chaewon followed close behind fanning herself dramatically with somebody’s abandoned paper plate.

“oh my god,” mina breathed the second she reached you, still half laughing from whatever had just happened on the dance floor. “have you literally been standing here this entire time?”

you lifted the vodka lemonade vaguely in response before taking another sip. “i’ve moved at least twice actually.”

“who are you and what have you done with my fun best friend?”

chaewon leaned heavily against the wall beside you afterward, chest still rising slightly faster from dancing while the gloss on her lips had smudged faintly around the edges.

“ignore her,” she sighed dramatically before immediately grabbing your wrist. “listen to me instead because i think i finally found the man who’s gonna help me forget jaehyun.”

you raised an eyebrow slowly. “really?”

“you should have seen her” mina cut in immediately. “she was dancing on this guy like rent was due.”

“okay first of all,” chaewon snapped while fixing her hair in the reflection of the darkened window beside you, “he was really hot.”

“he looks like he hasn't had a single productive thought in a week.”

“i don't need a philosopher, i need a hot guy to fuck me.”

despite yourself, a quieter laugh escaped through your nose at that while chaewon continued ranting passionately about how she deserved to rebound in peace without being judged for it. around you the party seemed almost softer for a moment beneath the familiar rhythm of your friends talking over one another, the conversation managing to pull you out of your own head for a moment. while mina reached over to steal a sip from your drink before immediately grimacing at how strong it was.

“jesus christ,” she coughed. “what is wrong with you?”

“a lot actually.”

another wave of laughter passed between the three of you while chaewon suddenly glanced back toward the centre of the living room where a new song had apparently started, her expression changing instantly.

“oh absolutely not,” she gasped while grabbing mina’s arm. “they’re playing megan thee stallion. we have to go back immediately.”

mina groaned dramatically toward the ceiling before looking back at you again. “come with us this time,” she demanded. “you’ve been standing here looking emotionally unavailable for like forty minutes.”

“i’m fine here.”

“that look on your face proves otherwise.”

you only rolled your eyes before taking another sip from your drink, the cold sting of vodka and lemonade sliding numbingly down your throat while the bass continued vibrating through your chest.

"i don't need a babysitter, im fine."

mina hesitated for a second longer, eyes narrowing slightly like she was trying to decide whether to push harder. “you sure?”

“go dance,” you said finally, softer this time. “i’ll survive without supervision for five minutes.”

for all their dramatics and constant complaining, the hesitation lingering there was real enough that warmth flickered faintly through your chest despite yourself. eventually mina squeezed briefly at your arm before finally relenting.

“fine,” she sighed. “but if you suddenly become fun again, come find us.”

the two of them disappeared back into the crowd together, swallowed so quickly by the house that within seconds it was impossible to tell where they'd gone.

for a while you stayed exactly where you were, shoulder resting lightly against the wall while the night carried on around you without requiring much participation. conversations bled together into background noise, faces becoming increasingly difficult to keep track of the more you drank. the vodka had softened the edges of everything just enough that time started slipping strangely.

your gaze drifted without purpose at first, aimless beneath the haze settling slowly over your thoughts. then, inevitably, your eyes found sohee again.

this time he had drifted slightly away from the larger group, and the sight that greeted you lodged beneath your skin almost instantly. yuna stood close enough to him now that her body nearly brushed his chest while she balanced lightly onto the balls of her feet, one hand resting against the back of his neck to pull him lower toward her mouth so he could hear her properly over the music.

sohee bent automatically at the waist without hesitation, broad shoulders shifting beneath the thin black fabric stretched tightly across his back while his arms folded loosely across his chest, forearms flexing faintly beneath flushed skin from the movement. from this distance you could not hear a single word being exchanged between them, only the shape of the conversation disappearing entirely beneath the relentless bass swallowing the room whole.

still, something inside you tightened immediately at the sight.

because despite the complete lack of evidence, despite how irrational it actually was, you could not stop the immediate certainty settling low and poisonous inside your chest that somehow the conversation had circled back toward you. maybe it was yuna specifically that sharpened the feeling, the memory of the cafeteria flashing unpleasantly through your head all over again. maybe it was simply the fact that sohee had spent enough time occupying space inside your thoughts lately that now every glance around him felt loaded automatically whether it actually was or not.

you hated how much it bothered you.

hated the humiliating awareness that you were standing there trying to read meaning into body language and half-seen gestures like somebody genuinely unstable while sohee himself still looked maddeningly untouched by any of it. across the room yuna finally pulled back first, though her hand lingered briefly against the back of his neck another second longer before dropping away. sohee remained bent slightly toward her for half a heartbeat afterward before straightening again, eyes lowering briefly while she said one last thing that pulled the faintest twitch at the corner of his mouth.

then he nodded once. easy, casual, completely unaffected.

afterward he handed her the drink still hanging loose from his fingers before turning away from the group entirely and starting toward the darker hallway leading deeper into the house where the music dulled slightly beneath the walls.

something inside you moved before your brain fully caught up to it.

your grip tightened automatically around the cup in your hand before you tipped the rest of the vodka lemonade back in one long swallow, the sharp burn sliding cold and heavy down your throat while your pulse thudded thickly somewhere beneath your ribs. by the time you lowered the empty cup again, sohee had already nearly disappeared from sight beyond the edge of the hallway.

you barely thought at all before pushing yourself away from the wall and following after him.

the sound of your heels carried sharply through the hallway once you stepped fully away from the party, striking against the wooden floor in slow measured clicks that felt strangely loud compared to the muffled bass now vibrating distantly behind the walls. the farther you moved from the living room, the quieter everything became, though not truly silent. music still pulsed faintly beneath the floorboards while laughter drifted somewhere upstairs alongside the occasional slam of a bathroom door farther down the corridor. the dim lighting softened the hallway into warmer shadows compared to the chaos consuming the rest of the house, catching unevenly against discarded jackets, abandoned cups and the thin sheen of sweat still clinging faintly to your skin from hours spent inside the crowd.

ahead of you, sohee remained half turned away near the bathroom entrance with his attention lowered toward the phone in his hand, one broad shoulder resting briefly against the wall while his free hand moved absently along the back of his neck. from this close, every detail seemed clearer somehow without the constant movement of the crowd between you both. the black sleeveless shirt stretched cleanly across the width of his shoulders and upper back whenever he shifted his weight, blond strands hanging damp and dishevelled across his forehead while the silver chain resting against his throat caught faintly beneath the yellow glow from the lamp nearby.

the moment the sound of your footsteps fully registered you observed the faint tightening that moved subtly through his shoulders before his head lifted from the screen in his hand and his gaze sharpened instinctively toward the sound approaching behind him. the second his eyes landed on you standing there at the centre of the hallway, recognition settled visibly across his face and erased whatever loose absent ease had existed there moments earlier.

it happened fast enough to feel almost automatic, the line of his mouth flattening slightly while something colder slid neatly back into place behind his expression, familiar in a way that made heat rise low through your chest all over again because finally, after an entire night spent pretending otherwise, sohee looked at you exactly the way you had been expecting him to.

for a few seconds neither of you said anything.

the silence, neither of you looking away from each other long enough to acknowledge it. up close now, the tension that had spent weeks festering beneath every interaction finally felt stripped of all the buffers that usually softened it, no sungchan standing awkwardly between you trying to smooth things over, no crowded kitchen forcing either of you to swallow your reactions before they escalated too far.

there was only the two of you now. and sohee looked exactly the way you had expected him to the second he finally acknowledged your existence again.

the loose ease he had worn across the party had disappeared entirely. the harder version of him had slipped immediately back into place the moment recognition sunk in, visible now in the stillness sitting through his body and the line of his mouth while his gaze remained fixed on you with that same familiar restrained hostility you had spent weeks learning how to read.

your eyes dragged slowly across his face beneath the dim hallway lighting before finally meeting his stare properly again.

“why the fuck have you been talking about me to other people?”

sohee’s expression tightened immediately afterward, not with guilt or surprise but with something closer to pure irritation, like the accusation itself offended him. one side of his mouth pulled faintly while he looked at you for another second before scrunching his face slightly in visible disgust.

“you really think i have so little going on in my life that i spend my time talking about you?”

“well clearly you do,” you shot back quickly, “seeing as yuna’s suddenly repeating information i’m pretty sure didn’t magically fall out of the sky on its own.”

at the mention of yuna, something flickered faintly across his expression before he scoffed under his breath, the sound sharp and genuinely irritated enough that it echoed slightly in the quieter hallway. he shook his head once afterward while looking at you like you were something unpleasant stuck to the bottom of his shoe.

“so i spoke about you with one of my friends? not like i told her anything that wasn’t true.”

the words landed harder than they should have.

you stared at him for a second while then rolled your eyes slowly, the expression spreading deliberately across your face in a way that only seemed to sharpen the hostility already sitting between you both.

“you seriously don’t hear how fucking weird you sound?” you asked quietly, stepping closer now without properly realising it.

"seriously. what is your actual problem? because every time i turn around you've somehow made yourself part of something that never involved you in the first place."

“because unlike you, some people actually gave a shit about what happens to sungchan.”

“oh my god,” you laughed quietly. “you act like i ruined his life or something."

“but you did.”

the answer came so quickly it almost overlapped your own words.

for a second the hallway seemed to tighten around the both of you. whatever restraint had still been holding his composure together earlier was beginning to crack visibly around the edges, irritation bleeding steadily into something far rougher and more personal beneath the surface, like your complete inability to understand why he hated you this much genuinely disgusted him on some fundamental level.

“so stop standing here acting all shocked every time i make it obvious i don’t like you,” he continued, voice lower now but significantly less controlled than before.

“you don’t get to walk around acting all high and mighty after what you did.”

“for what though?” you shot back immediately, stepping closer now while heat climbed steadily through your chest.

“you don’t like me, okay, great. but you've spent months acting like a miserable prick every time i'm in the same room as you and i just don't get it.”

something snapped visibly across his expression then.

“because you fucking cheated on him,” he said, the words coming harsher this time, disbelief and anger twisting together beneath every syllable. “multiple times. then you walked away from him like he was the one to blame while he was already falling apart.”

your jaw tightened instantly.

“and now i’m supposed to believe you suddenly care about his wellbeing?” sohee continued before you could interrupt, eyes narrowing harder now while the muscles along his forearms flexed beneath crossed arms. “i’m supposed to believe you’re back in his life because of some newfound love for him or because you suddenly want a relationship again? give me a fucking break.”

the bitterness underneath his voice was ugly enough to scrape against your nerves.

"are you serious?" you laughed sharply. "that's what this is? you've spent months acting like i'm some sort of serial killer because i cheated on my ex-boyfriend?"

“you’re standing here bitching and crying over something he’s already moved on from,” you snapped back. “wish the same could be said about you.”

the reaction in him was immediate.

his jaw flexed hard enough for you to notice it beneath the dim hallway light while something genuinely furious darkened behind his expression for the first time since the conversation started.

“because he’s pathetic when it comes to you,” sohee said flatly. “i don’t know what sort of fucking hold you have over him, but it’s clearly clouding his judgement.”

“he’s pathetic because he’s not acting like some overgrown baby over cheating?” you scoffed. “oh my god, sohee, when the fuck are you gonna grow up?”

a humourless laugh escaped him at that, low and bitter enough that it immediately raised the temperature between you another degree.

“of course you’d say something like that,” he muttered, shaking his head slowly while looking down at you with open disgust now. “people like you always do.”

your eyebrows pulled together.

“people like me?”

“selfish people,” he said flatly. “people who leave a trail of damage behind them and then act confused when somebody points it out.”

"i guess being a bitch apparently becomes acceptable when you're pretty enough.”

“watch your mouth, sohee.”

“why?” he laughed bitterly, eyes narrowing now while the muscles in his jaw flexed visibly beneath flushed skin. “because hearing the truth makes you uncomfortable?”

“what makes me uncomfortable is you acting like some bitter fucking ex when none of this had anything to do with you in the first place.”

what had started as hostility had become something far uglier somewhere during the conversation, something raw enough that you could practically feel it tightening through the air around his body. because the second the words left your mouth, something in sohee’s expression changed completely.

the loss of control showed itself in smaller ways that somehow made it worse, the way his shoulders drew faintly tighter beneath the black fabric stretched across them, the way his jaw flexed once so hard you could see the muscle jump beneath flushed skin before he looked away briefly toward the floor like he physically needed a second to process what you had just said. when his eyes lifted back toward you again, whatever restraint had still been holding the conversation together earlier was visibly beginning to split apart around the edges.

“nothing to do with me?” he repeated quietly.

the look in his eyes made the hallway suddenly feel far too narrow.

you opened your mouth instinctively, already prepared to bite something cruel back at him before he could continue, but sohee spoke first, the words coming rougher now.

“you weren’t there,” he said, voice tightening unevenly around the sentence like the memory itself still sat somewhere lodged beneath his ribs.

“you weren’t there when he stopped eating properly for almost a month because every time somebody mentioned your name he looked like he was gonna be sick. you weren’t there when he couldn’t sleep. you weren’t there when he sat on the floor of our apartment crying over you like some fucking idiot because he couldn’t understand why he still wanted you back after everything you did to him.”

the force of it hollowed something briefly out of the air between you. the sharp immediate tightening in your chest at being spoken to like you were some uniquely evil person instead of somebody who had simply done something selfish and messy and human.

you hated the way sohee looked at you when he spoke, like he genuinely believed morality itself sat cleanly on one side of the room with him while you stood on the other dripping rot onto everything you touched.

your chin lifted slightly despite the pressure now building suffocatingly between you both.

“so what?” you answered flatly after a second. “it’s not like you’re the one i cheated on.”

“thank god i’m not sungchan,” he muttered bitterly, eyes dragging slowly across your face with open contempt now. “i’d rather die than let myself get played by the campus communal hole.”

the insult hit low and immediate as heat surged violently through your chest before thought could properly catch up to it. one second there was still space between your bodies, thick with hostility and sharp breathing and unresolved resentment, and the next your fist had twisted violently into the front of his tank top, bunching the black fabric tightly in your hand while you shoved him backward hard enough for his shoulders to collide against the wall behind him with a dull impact.

the movement startled him and you saw it immediately in the brief widening of his eyes before anger swallowed the reaction whole again.

suddenly you were impossibly close. close enough to feel the heat radiating from his body through the thin material crushed between your fingers, close enough to smell alcohol and smoke clinging heavily to his skin beneath the cleaner scent of his cologne, close enough to see the pulse beating sharply beneath the side of his throat while his breathing shifted unevenly.

“go on, use the word you really want to say” you hissed, voice rough now beneath the fury burning through your chest while you jerked him slightly forward off the wall again.

“say it. call me a slut, since you’re suddenly feeling so fucking brave.”

"sohee the great, slutshaming a woman, because of what? because i actually enjoy having sex?because i don't fake purity and virginity for vanilla guys like you?"

sohee stared down at you without blinking, chest rising harder now beneath your hand while tension spread visibly through every line of his body pinned against the wall behind him. the hatred was still there, obvious in the hard set of his jaw and the dark look fixed across his face, but underneath it now sat something far more dangerous than either of you had intended when this conversation first started, something hot and volatile crackling low through the tiny amount of space left separating your bodies.

still, when he finally spoke, the contempt remained intact.

“i don’t need to humour you or your manic ranting.”

“fuck you, sohee,” you spat back instantly, fingers twisting tighter into the front of his shirt until the fabric strained audibly between your fists.

“you know what i actually think? i think you're so busy worrying about everybody else's sex life because you've got absolutely nothing going on in your own.”

the disgust darkened immediately across his face.

“i think you're so miserable watching everybody around you actually enjoy themselves that you've convinced yourself it's some moral failing instead.”

the shove had locked you both into a space so narrow the rest of the party collapses into nothing but distant bass and smeared light. your fist remains twisted in the front of his shirt, knuckles pressed hard to the steady rise of his chest. his back is flat to the wall, shoulders rigid, and the heat trapped between your bodies thickens instantly, humid and suffocating, the summer air itself seeming to clot in the narrow gap that no longer exists. you can feel every shallow, uneven breath he takes, the way his ribs expand against your forearm, the faint tremor that runs through the muscle under your fingers. without meaning to, your fingers tighten, drawing him that last impossible fraction closer, and he shifts against the wall in a small, involuntary adjustment of his hips that registers before either of you can stop it.

the solid weight of his cock presses against your thigh where your skirt has ridden high. it feels immediately wrong, the blunt, insistent pressure dragging slowly along your skin, the dampness of it seeping through the denim in a slow, spreading patch that clings to you. your stomach drops and for one suspended heartbeat your mind goes perfectly still, the alcohol sharpening every detail until the contact feels almost violent in its clarity.

except the sensation refuses to belong to anything happening between you.

the anger is still there. the disgust too. sohee is still looking down at you with the same hostility that had been sitting across his face since the beginning of the conversation, his jaw tight, his breathing uneven from the force of the argument, every line of him still radiating the same contempt that had finally pushed you into shoving him against the wall in the first place. nothing about the moment has changed. nothing about him has changed.

yet the pressure remains.

your attention catches on it despite yourself, lingering there for a second longer than it should, your brain reaching automatically for explanations that make more sense than the one beginning to form at the edge of your thoughts. his phone, maybe. his keys. something caught awkwardly inside the pocket of his jeans. anything other than—

the realisation drags your focus lower before you can stop it. the outline is unmistakable now, stretched tight and heavy against the front of his jeans, the shape of him clearly defined where the fabric pulls. the weight of it is there, the slow, helpless pulse of it pressing into your thigh with every shallow breath he takes.

you’ve spent months making careless, cutting little jokes about him. about how someone so uptight and sexless probably didn’t have much to work with, months spent rolling your eyes whenever somebody mentioned one of his hookups, dismissing them as exaggerations or jokes about how someone like him probably fucked like he argued: stiff, joyless, and underwhelming. you’ve said it to his face in passing remarks, to sungchan when he wasn’t around, even to yourself when his cold stares got under your skin. you’ve been with enough men to know what’s average and what isn’t, and you’d written him off completely.

and now you’re staring, because this doesn’t make sense. the thick, heavy line of him is pressed right there against your thigh, so obviously, undeniably big that for a second your brain refuses to make the connection at all, the shape of it existing separately from the man standing in front of you, like the two things belong to entirely different people.

lee sohee. the same sohee who’s spent months looking at you like you were something filthy he had to tolerate for sungchan’s sake. the same sohee who acts like sex and desire are beneath him. the sheer size of it feels like a private joke the universe decided to play on you at the worst possible moment. your eyes stay there longer than they should, caught between disbelief and something sharper, something you don’t want to name yet.

your tongue drags slowly across your lower lip, breathing shallow and quick as a flush climbs your neck because you can feel how much he is leaking, the warm dampness spreading slowly against your thigh. your pussy gives one involuntary clench, a traitorous little pulse, your gaze lingering on the way another slow throb rolls through him in response, the way his cock twitches helplessly like it has already chosen for him.

sohee feels the exact moment you understand what you are feeling.

his entire frame locks, the muscle along his jaw jumping once, sharp and visible, horror and self-loathing moving openly across his expression as the reality of it settles over him. his eyes widen, then narrow with something raw and sick, his breathing turning ragged in the narrow space between your faces. for one endless second he simply stares at you, the realisation of what has just happened written plainly across his face.

his hands come up fast.

he shoves you back hard enough that you stumble, the sudden loss of his weight leaving your skin cold where it had been pressed. he is breathing like he has been struck, chest rising and falling in sharp, uneven drags, cheeks burning dark beneath the dim light. his eyes are wide with something that looks like panic wearing the thin mask of anger.

“stay the fuck away from my friend,” he mutters, voice low and cracked, already turning as though he cannot bear to look at you any longer.

you stand there with your pulse hammering between your legs, the memory of that insistent weight still burning against your thigh. by the time you finally push yourself away from the wall, the memory still hasn't loosened its grip on you, lingering stubbornly beneath your skin in the same way his words had earlier, except infinitely more irritating. because the last thing you wanted was another reason to think about lee sohee, and now he has given you one.

CHAPTERS

› INTRO

› ONE || written 1.3k

› TWO

› THREE

› FOUR || written 2.5k

› FIVE

› SIX || written 2.3k

› SEVEN

› EIGHT

› NINE

› TEN

› ELEVEN || written 2k

› TWELVE || written 343

› THIRTEEN