crinkle cookies

you had been practicing the choreography for an upcoming comeback, trying to nail one combo that for some odd reason, you just could not master.

the choreographer saw everyone’s tired faces and sloppy moves, knowing that they had been trying to nail this bit for half an hour. “okay. guys, take five. give your bodies a break.”

martin and seonghyeon practically fought in line for who got to use the water dispenser first. “everyone could’ve gotten water by now, idiots,” juhoon mumbled, pushing them both aside.

“back of the line,” keonho mumbled, pulling a bickering martin and seonghyeon to the back.

you just sat on the ground, trying to catch your breath as you tilted your head back against the wall.

“you good?” a familiar voice asked.

you could only nod, too tired to speak.

soon enough, you felt a heavy weight drop into your lap, james. he then moved your hand into his hair, a wordless way of asking for gentle head scratches.

“james we’re in practice. you’re gonna have to get up in a few minutes,” you mumbled.

“don’t care,” he replied, already half asleep.

well. looks like you’re stuck.

“did he do it again?” martin asked from where he was on his phone.

you nodded, one hand in james’ hair and the other scrolling on your phone.

you learned exactly where to touch james. the spot behind his ear that made him shiver, the way he groaned when you bit his lip just right. his hands knew you just as well, slipping under your shirt, spanning your waist, pulling you closer. 

but the two of you always stopped. james always reminded you about the conversation you two had about sex. no sex before marriage. you both agreed on it, wanted it, believed in it. but sometimes, when you were deep in it with his mouth hot on your neck, his body pressed flush against yours, your heart hammering in your ears… you'd feel yourself spiral, arousal pooling in your panties without him noticing, your hips moving on their own, seeking friction, seeking more.

and james always noticed that, every little squirm his girlfriend makes. then he'd pull back suddenly, breathing hard, his eyes dark and glassy. he'd seal the makeout session with one hasty, chaste kiss on your lips and it was almost businesslike, then james would roll onto his back, staring at the ceiling, hands folded over his chest like he was trying to hold himself together.

then there’s you, feeling the rejection sink in slow and sharp despite everything. you were the one who suggested waiting in the first place, and you were the one who wanted this. james was just doing his job, honoring the promise, being good.

but god, in those moments, you hated him for it a little.

hate wasn't right, but moreof you hated yourself because of it. hated how your body betrayed what your mind wanted, hated that you made him responsible for stopping when you clearly couldn't.

last night was no different.

you were on his bed after watching a movie, the tv screen was the only lights on, his mouth on yours like he was drowning and you were his air. it was one of that kind of kisses, hungry and desparate, it had been building for weeks. the tension, the wanting, the way you both went closer to the edge every time. his hands were under your shirt, rough and warm, and you were arching into him, breath coming in short gasps, your body speaking louder than your mind.

you reached for his belt. your fingers fumbled, clumsy with need, and you felt james freeze.

james pulled back, his hand tight caught your wrist, you saw it in his eyes before he even said anything — that same strict resolve, that same wall.

“baby, didn’t we already talked about this before?”

you kept reaching anyway, all because your body was on fire. your pussy was screaming for him, and you almost didn't care about the promise, didn't care about the waiting, you just wanted him now. was it because it was making you so horny? because the neediness was enough for you to forget your morals.

james suddenly flips you down to the bed, your back hits the mattress, breath knocked out of you. and for a second, you almost thought you had him. you arch up, offering, begging without words. but james lets go and pushes off you, and you felt the cold rush in where his warmth was. 

you watch disappointedly as he grabs the blankets, then suddenly he's wrapping you with it, a cocoon of fleece and cotton, your arms pinned to your sides, your legs bound together. he tucks the edges under you like he's swaddling a baby, like you're something to be contained, protected from yourself.

“bad. horny girlfriend.” james tches at you playfully. you stare up at him with begging eyes, arousal still thrumming painful and unmet between your legs. you can't touch him like this, can't reach for him, can't tempt him or yourself.

he presses one hard kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering, his breath shaky against your skin.

"nice try though." he murmurs, and turns off the light and sleeps on the other side of the bed. you lie there, wrapped up and furious and so turned on you could scream, listening to him settle on the other side of the bed, as far from you as the mattress allows.

the morning came and you successfully got off the tight cocoon that loosened throughout the night. you went to the kitchen to drink some water because apparently you were still angry and frustrated with last night. your body still hummed with unspent need, your skin too sensitive, your mind replaying the rejection on loop.

you stormed back to the bedroom and still found james sleeping comfortably like an angel. chest rising slow and steady, face soft and unguarded, one arm thrown over his head. he looked somehow peaceful and innocent, like he hadn't left you wound tight and desperate like a devil monster just hours before.

like a thief, you made your way to his sleeping form. you climbed onto the bed, knees sinking into the mattress beside his hips, and straddled his lap. you hovered there and began watching him breathe, feeling the heat of him through the thin fabric of his boxers, your sleep shorts doing nothing to hide how much you still wanted him.

you leaned down and planted the softest, faintest kisses all over his cute sleepy face. jamie’s temple, jamie’s cheekbone, jamie’s corner of his mouth, jamie’s jaw. all featherlight and barely there, the kind of kisses that felt like tiny secrets. you traced his features with your lips, mapping him in the gray morning light, your anger melting into something softer, something needier.

he stirred beneath you, eyelids fluttering with a sleepy hum vibrating in his chest. his hands found your hips instinctively, gripping loose and warm, still half-drowned in dreams.

"mm?" he mumbled dumbly, eyes still closed, tilting his face toward you like a flower seeking sun. "s' that you?"

you didn't answer, and just kept kissing him. teasing, never quite giving him the full thing. you felt him hardening beneath you, his body waking up faster than his mind, you rocked down just slightly and testing, seeking friction for the nth time. because there’s nothing more mind challenging to men other than a morning wood where their adorable dumb brains still couldn’t process things. james’ fingers half-awakedly tightened on your waist. his eyes opened a little more, dark and confused and still heavy with sleep. and when the realization hit, his jaw tightened. 

his hands moved to your shoulders instead, gentle but firm, holding you back from leaning in again.

"hey." he said, voice rough with sleep. "i told you. we can’t.”

“huh? we’re not? who said anything about having sex?”

you feigned innocence, your voice dripping with artificial confusion, but then you couldn't help yourself. you let out a soft desperate whine and rolled your hips down, feeling the hard line of his erection straining against his boxers, pressing right against your flimsy, soaked panties.

and that friction made you both gasp.

james's fingers dug into your hips with his knuckles turning white, his whole body going rigid beneath you. "don't-!" he warned, but his voice cracked, betraying how close he was to the edge himself.

"don't what? don’t do this?" you breathed, rocking again, slower this time, torturing yourself with the pressure. you leaned down until your lips brushed his ear, your voice dropping to a whisper that trembled with need. "don't feel how much you want me, jjami? don't you feel how wet i am for you?"

james’ chest heaved, his eyes squeezing shut like he could block out the temptation if he just didn't look. "you're playing dirty, my love." he gritted out.

"no i'm not." you countered, and there was real hurt in your voice now, vulnerability cracking through the seductive facade. "i just want you… and, i love you. why does loving you with my body have to be wrong?" you whined ever so reverently, and that whine went straight to his dick. you felt it twitch and it immediately poked your entrance, sending jolts of electrifying pleasure through your clothed core.

it made james groan so hard, his fingers dug crescent moons into your skin, his head falling back against the pillow, eyes squeezed shut as if he could somehow shut out the temptation.

"let me hump you, jamesss…" you reasoned, your voice barely above a whisper, trembling with how badly you needed this. "let me hump you pleassee..." you begged your boyfriend, rolling your hips in a slow, teasing circle that made you both gasp.

james looked so strained, his jaw tight, his face flushed a deep crimson, pupils blown wide with lust. he stared up at you like you were both his salvation and his ruin, ‘you really are so different when horny…’ he whispered to himself, almost in awe, watching how your eyes had gone dark and hazy, how your lips were parted, swollen from his kisses.

then, with a shaky exhale that sounded like surrender, james gave in. "okay, fine baby." his voice was rough, gravelly, thick with arousal. "but we take turns to be fair, okay?" he asks, his thumbs stroking soothing patterns against your hip bones even as his body betrayed his eagerness, arching up into you. "your turn first. then mine."

you immediately nod, eager and trembling, your hands bracing against his bare chest, feeling his heart hammering beneath your palms. "yes, yes, okay." you rushed out, already shifting your weight, positioning yourself so that your aching center aligned perfectly with the hard ridge of him straining through his boxers.

"easy…" james murmured, his hands guiding your hips, his touch gentle despite the tremor in his fingers. "go slow, okay? let me feel you."

you lowered yourself fully, pressing down until there was nothing between you but the thin layers of fabric, and the contact made you cry out, your head falling back, hair cascading down your shoulders. he was so hard, so hot, and the pressure against your clit was exquisite torture after weeks of denial.

"oh god!" you whimpered, grinding experimentally, a slow, deliberate roll that had sparks shooting up your spine. "james, you feel so good..." it was like a cry.

"shit-" he hissed, his hands moving to grip the sheets beside him, knuckles white, his whole body tense as he fought to stay still, to let you take what you needed. "that's it, baby. take your time… use me."

and you did. you set a rhythm, rocking against him in slow, sinuous movements, your breath coming in short, sharp gasps. the friction was perfect, delicious, building that coil tight in your belly. 

"this feels so nice-!" you panted, your hips moving faster now, chasing the release that had been denied to you for so long. "james! i'm so close already, i—i haven’t even barely-!"

"let go." he encouraged, his voice strained, his hips bucking up to meet your movements, adding pressure exactly where you needed it. "i've got you. cum for me, sweetheart. cum on my cock."

his words sent you over the edge, your orgasm crashing through you like a wave, your whole body seizing up as pleasure radiated from your core outward, a sticky substance blotched your whole panties. you cried out his name, grinding down hard against him as you rode out the aftershocks, your hips jerking involuntarily, seeking every last spark of sensation. 

james watched you fall apart beneath his gaze, his eyes dark and worshipful, his chest heaving with restrained need. he held you steady as you trembled, his hands moving to stroke your back, your sides, anywhere he could touch, grounding you as you came back down.

"there you go, pretty." he murmured so supportively, pressing reverent kisses to your shoulder, your collarbone, your throat. "there's my girl. so beautiful when you let go."

you collapsed against him, boneless and panting, your cheek resting on his shoulder, your body still twitching with residual pleasure. but beneath you, he was still hard, still throbbing, his hips shifting restlessly, seeking friction you'd stopped giving.

"your turn." you whispered, your voice hoarse, and you felt him tense, his hands gripping your waist.

"we don't really have too– you seem tired already, baby." james stammered, ever the gentleman, even now.

"we always keep our promises." you interrupted, pushing yourself up on trembling arms, your eyes meeting his with a stubborn glint that made his breath hitch. "and you suggested it first." 

james asks again, "you sure baby? that's what you want?" he asks, more like a warning, his voice dropping an octave, eyes darkening with something dangerous and hungry. wanting that freedom.

"yes, baby. keep your end of the promise." you said sternly so ironically.

"okay baby." james says unsurely, but then his expression shifted, resolve hardening into something feral. "but don't tell me i didn't warn ya."

james grunts and immediately switches places, his strength surprising as he flips you onto your back. he roughly rips your flimsy shorts into nothing, the fabric tearing like paper and sets his big dick free for the first time. it was all so fast that you didn't get to have a good look of it, but then james has his hard cock with precum inside your wet panties, his dick slipping in your slit like a hot dog in its bun, and starts to thrust without penetration so fast and so so needy.

"oh my god!" you gasped, your back arching off the mattress as the hot, heavy length of him dragged through your folds, the head of his cock catching on your clit with every desperate snap of his hips. james came in burning hot, steel wrapped in velvet, and dick so wet already, sliding easily through the mess you'd made, your arousal coating him, making every thrust filthy and slick. 

and the skin of his dick, you can feel it in your clit and its exciting you so bad.

"shit- shit!" james curses, his forehead dropping to yours, his breathing ragged against your lips. "pussy feels so nice, so wet for me."

his hands braced on either side of your head, caging you as his hips working in a relentless rhythm that had you a moaning mess. the friction was different from you humping him earlier. this was more intense, more intimate, the bare heat of him against just barely against your most sensitive spots. 

"feels good?" james gritted out, his voice unrecognizable, all restraint shattered as he rutted against you like an animal, chasing his release with single-minded desperation. 

"ohh yes!" you moaned , your legs wrapping around his waist, heels digging into his lower back, urging him deeper, harder. "james, please—"

he adjusted his angle slightly, and suddenly the head of his cock always hits directly against your clit on every upward thrust, the pressure perfect, relentless, driving you rapidly toward the edge again. you could feel him twitching, swelling, the vein on the underside of his cock pulsing against your slit.

"gonna cum-" he warned, his hips stuttering, losing rhythm. "baby, i'm gonna—"

"p-please cum!" you begged, your nails scoring his back, your eyes rolling back as your own orgasm built again, coiling tight and hot in your belly. "cum on me, james. please put it in!"

with a guttural broken cry, james buried his face in your neck, his hips snapping forward one last time, holding there as he spilled over hot, painting your stomach, your panties, your throbbing core with his sticky white cum. the feeling of his dick pulsing, the heat of it, the desperate sounds he made against your throat. gosh, it was too much.

james collapsed on top of you, both of you trembling, sweating, panting into each other's mouths as the aftershocks slowly faded. james was heavy and warm and perfect, his heart hammering against yours, his lips pressing sloppy, reverent kisses to your jaw, your temple, and so much love against your skin.

"no baby. i will not cum inside. after marriage, okay?” 

you always had a habit of running your thumb over things that were broken, as if gentle pressure could smooth out cracks that life had already set into place. 

sitting at your small kitchen island on a dreary tuesday night, you were tracing the fine spiderweb fracture near the top right corner of your phone screen, the quiet click-clack of your nail breaking the absolute silence of the room. the glass was slightly sharp, just enough to catch the pads of your fingers if you swiped at the wrong angle, but you didn’t care. you had earned every single cent in your bank account, paid your rent three days early every month, and held a quiet, fierce pride in the fact that you never replaced something until it was thoroughly, completely dead.

across the polished marble counter, james shifted, the soft rustle of his tailored charcoal shirt drawing your gaze up from the illuminated glass. his laptop was open, a sleek fountain pen resting loosely between two long, perfectly manicured fingers as he reviewed quarterly ledgers for his firm, but he wasn’t looking at the financial numbers anymore. his dark, quiet eyes were fixed entirely on your hand, watching the way your thumb hesitated over the cracked corner.

“it’s going to catch your skin eventually, pretty girl,” james remarked softly, his voice a low, grounded rumble that filled the quiet space between you.

“it’s fine, james,” you said without looking up, tapping a message icon with calculated precision. “it’s barely visible anyway. i’m going to get the glass replaced next month once my work project settles down.”

“or,” he said, closing his laptop with a quiet, decisive click that signaled the end of any business discussion, “i could just handle it right now.”

you lifted your head, narrowing your eyes in that defensive, guarded posture he had come to recognise over the months you had been together. “i don’t need a new phone, baby. i’m serious. it functions perfectly well.”

“i didn’t say you needed one,” he replied smoothly, standing up and smoothing down the front of his shirt with effortless grace.

he crossed the hardwood floor toward you, moving with a fluid, grounded presence that always seemed to make whatever room he was in feel instantly smaller, instantly warmer. leaning forward, he rested both of his broad hands on either side of your stool, trapping you in a subtle scent of dark cedar, crisp cotton, and high-end cologne.

you knew that look in his eyes, but before you could launch into your rehearsed speech about financial independence and unnecessary expenses, james reached into his inner jacket pocket and slid a slim, matte-black box across the smooth marble. it was heavy, factory-sealed in immaculate plastic, carrying the minimal logo of the newest flagship phone in the exact dark graphite shade you had casually pointed out in an ad three weeks prior.

you stared at the sharp edges of the box, then looked up into his steady, dark gaze. “james—absolutely not. push that right back into your pocket.”

“open it, yn,” he murmured.

“nope,” you said, pushing the box back across the counter toward him. “this is a ridiculously expensive piece of technology. my current phone is only two years old, and i’m fully capable of managing my own devices.”

james didn’t move the box back. instead, his long fingers reached out, closing gently around your wrist. his thumb began to trace slow, soothing circles over your pulse point, feeling the rapid, defensive beat beneath your skin.

“look at me, sweetheart,” he said softly, his voice dipping into that impossibly patient cadence he reserved entirely for you.

you met his eyes, exhaling a frustrated breath. “i am looking at you. and i’m telling you no.”

“i know you can buy your own phone,” he said, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made it impossible to look away. “i know you have a healthy savings account. i know you pay your bills on time, and i know you don’t need me to purchase a single thing for you. your independence is one of the million things i adore about you, my love. it isn’t a challenge to my ego, and it isn’t something i ever want to break. it’s simply who you are.” he lifted your hand, pressing a brief, lingering kiss against the back of your knuckles. “but this?” he continued, glancing down at the box before bringing his dark eyes back to yours. “this isn’t an obligation. it isn’t a power move, and it isn’t an attempt to show off. i saw a jagged piece of broken glass under the thumb of the woman i love. buying you a phone that doesn’t risk cutting your skin when you text me isn’t some grand, heroic gesture. to me, it’s basic. it’s the absolute bare minimum i should be doing as your boyfriend.”

“a brand-new, top-of-the-line device isn’t the bare minimum, james,” you countered, though your tone had softened under his touch. “it’s entirely excessive for a minor crack.”

a small, knowing smile tugged at the corner of his lips as he reached out, gently tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “to you, maybe. but to me, ensuring that the person i love has a working phone, a safe car, and a warm coat in the middle of winter is baseline care. it’s entry-level stuff. and besides, i already had your sim card cloned and transferred at the store earlier this afternoon. all your data is already synced and waiting.”

you let out an exasperated laugh, shaking your head as you looked at the dark box sitting between your hands. “you’re absurd. you know that, right?”

“i’m attentive,” he corrected smoothly, a subtle glint of amusement in his dark eyes. “there’s a massive difference. now open it. and if you even attempt to transfer money into my checking account to offset the cost, i will simply route it straight back into a high-yield savings fund set up under your name anyway.”

“you wouldn’t dare,” you murmured, though you were already breaking the seal on the box, knowing full well he would dare, actually.

“try me,” he replied with a low, quiet chuckle, leaning down to press a kiss against the crown of your head as you lifted the sleek device out of its casing.

you couldn’t even stay mad at him—not when he handled your stubborn pride with such gentle, unyielding patience. you unwrapped the plastic, the fresh smell of factory-new electronics filling the air, and as you transferred your phone case over, you tried to ignore the way your heart swelled at how seamlessly he anticipated your needs before you even acknowledged them yourself.

iphone kupi (‘buy me an iphone’)... ☆

by the time friday evening rolled around, the city had dissolved into a slick, rain-soaked expanse of neon lights reflecting off wet asphalt. the weather was miserable, but inside the low, purring interior of james’ vehicle, the storm outside felt like a distant memory. 

james didn’t just drive any car; he had a deep, almost understated passion for fine engineering, and tonight he had picked you up in his custom porsche 911 gt3 touring. it was an absolute beast of a machine, finished in a deep, brooding shade of jet black metallic that seemed to swallow the city lights, its dark silver center-locking wheels gleaming beneath the streetlamps. inside, the cabin was a masterclass in quiet luxury—smelling of rich leather, dark suede, and the faint, warm ozone of a high-performance engine humming quietly beneath the frame.

you leaned your head back against your seat, feeling the subtle rumble of the engine vibrating through the floorboards as james navigated the rain-slicked streets with effortless, practiced precision. his right hand rested casually at three o’clock on the leather-wrapped steering wheel, while his left hand rested on the gear shift, his thumb occasionally brushing against your knee whenever he brought the low-slung car to a smooth halt at a red light.

“you like the noise this one makes, don’t you?” james asked softly, glancing over at you with a slight curve on his lips as the exhaust notes echoed off the concrete tunnel walls.

“it’s terrifyingly smooth,” you admitted, turning your head to look at his profile. “you drive like you’re on a track even in gridlock traffic.”

“it’s called control, pretty girl,” he murmured, his fingers tapping rhythmically against the gear shift before he stepped gently on the throttle. the engine let out a deep, intoxicating rasp that sent a faint shiver down your spine, accelerating seamlessly through the wet lane.

there was something undeniably magnetic about the contrast between his calm, polished demeanor and the raw, aggressive power of the vehicle he commanded so easily. he pulled the sleek sports car up to the curb of an intimate, dimly lit restaurant tucked away in the quieter cobblestone corners of the district. the valet immediately stepped out with a massive umbrella, opening your door with practiced deference.

“careful with the step,” james warned gently, stepping out from his side and meeting you under the awning before handing the valet his keys without a second thought. “keep it parked right out front under the cover, please,” he told the valet in a quiet, firm tone, slipping a heavy bill into the man’s hand.

“right away, sir,” the valet replied quickly.

inside, the restaurant smelled of woodsmoke, roasted herbs, and expensive wine. the hostess led you both past glowing ambient candleholders to a plush, dark velvet booth nestled near a quiet stone fireplace. james slid in right beside you instead of sitting across the table, his long arm extending naturally along the back of the velvet bench behind your shoulders, bringing his warm, familiar weight right against your side.

“how bad was the office today?” he asked softly, his dark eyes reading every subtle line of fatigue on your face as you leaned back into his chest.

“it was an absolute nightmare,” you admitted, closing your eyes for a brief second as his fingers began to gently massage the back of your neck. “endless fires to put out, three missed deadlines from the junior team, and my brain feels like mush. but i’m fine now.”

“you’re exhausted, sweetheart,” he corrected gently.

without needing to consult you on the tedious details, james signaled the sommelier with a brief nod. “we’ll take a bottle of the twenty-six sauvignon blanc,” he told the waiter smoothly. “and bring out the seared scallops and the truffle crostini to start, please.”

“you remembered what i like after a bad day,” you murmured, looking up at him as the sommelier bowed slightly and walked away.

“of course i remembered,” james said, resting his chin lightly against your temple. “i pay attention, y’know.”

you loved dining out, but as the incredible meal progressed and the empty plates were cleared away by attentive waitstaff, that lingering sense of self-reliance began to prickle at the back of your mind again. you had made a point early on in your relationship that you wanted an equal partnership. you hated the idea of feeling like a financial burden or acting like someone who expected to be catered to, and as the quiet waiter finally approached the table to lay a dark leather folder down, your hand instinctively dipped toward the zipper of your leather bag.

“let me cover the tip at least, james,” you said, pulling out your card. “or let’s split the total bill down the middle. you paid for lunch on wednesday.”

james’ hand moved with lightning speed, sliding firmly over yours before your fingers could even pull your card free. his touch was warm, solid, and entirely unyielding.

“put that back in your bag, yn,” he said softly, his tone carrying that quiet, absolute authority that left zero room for negotiation.

“james, come on,” you whispered, leaning in closer so the surrounding tables wouldn’t overhear your back-and-forth. “i work hard. i earn my own money, and i genuinely dislike the feeling of being paid for constantly. it makes me feel bad, like i’m not pulling my weight.”

james didn’t pull his hand back. instead, he pulled a heavy, matte-black card from his coat, slid it into the leather folder without even glancing down at the itemised receipt, and handed it back to the waiter with a quiet, polite nod.

“thank you, sir,” the waiter murmured, sliding away into the dim light of the dining room.

once the staff member glided away, james shifted his weight in the booth, turning his torso so he was facing you directly, his knees framing yours beneath the white tablecloth.

“do you truly believe you’re a charity case in my eyes, yn?” he asked gently, his eyes searching yours.

“it’s not that,” you murmured, looking down at your fingers. “i just need equality in our relationship. i never want you to entertain the thought that i’m with you for the places you can take me or the money you spend, you know?”

james looked at you then, his expression stripping away any lingering playfulness, replaced by a deep, unwavering sincerity that made your throat feel dry. he picked up both of your hands, lacing his long fingers through yours over the soft linen.

“if i believed, for a single second, that you were with me for my wealth, my love,” he said firmly, his voice low and steady, “we wouldn’t be sitting here right now. you fight me on every single check. you try to pay for your own morning coffees. you constantly try to split tabs down to the exact cent when we order late-night takeout. i know exactly who you are. you’re the woman who would happily sit on a cold park bench eating three thousand-won street food with me as long as we were together.” he squeezed your fingers, his dark gaze holding yours captive. “so hear me when i say this,” he continued softly. “paying for dinner when i take my girlfriend out on a friday night isn’t a flex. it isn’t an obligation, and it certainly isn’t an attempt to buy your affection. it is, as i’ve said before, the baseline standard of taking care of someone you’re utterly devoted to. if a man takes you out, he pays. period. that’s basic etiquette to me, which i learnt by looking at my dad taking out my mum. yn, you don’t owe me a single thing for this—not a formal thank you, not a return favor, nothing. it’s my absolute pleasure, and i do it because i want to make your life effortless after a long, grueling week.”

you bit your lip, feeling the sharp, defensive edge of your independence melt away under the quiet warmth of his reasoning. “you really consider a high-end, multi-course meal in the city to be the bare minimum?”

james tilted his head, a smooth, devastating smile breaking across his features as his thumb stroked the back of your hand. “for you? bringing you good food, keeping you comfortable, and picking up the tab is entry-level boyfriend behavior, sweetheart. if i could hand you the moon on a silver platter, i would still feel like i was slacking off.”

restoran oplati (‘pay for the restaurant’)... ☆

a week later, the autumn air had grown crisp and biting, scattering golden leaves across the wet concrete sidewalks. you had spent the afternoon running errands, dressed in an oversized, heavy grey knit sweater that belonged to james, the sleeves overlapping your hands so that only your fingertips peeked through. you were standing in the quiet alcove of a boutique shoe store downtown, picking up a pair of simple leather flats you had ordered online weeks ago.

james was standing near the entrance, leaning casually against a polished display case as he waited for you. he looked effortlessly striking in a dark tailored overcoat, his silver watch gleaming softly under the boutique’s track lighting. even just standing there, resting one hand in his pocket while he checked a brief email on his phone, he carried an air of calm, unbothered command that naturally drew people’s eyes.

as the clerk walked back out from the stockroom with your basic flats, james happened to look up, his eyes casually scanning the curated shelves behind the counter. his gaze caught on a pair of heels resting on an illuminated pedestal—a breathtaking pair of sculpted designer heels, crafted from buttery dark slate-grey silk with delicate, shimmering silver hardware detailing that caught the light like liquid moonlight. they were artistic, sophisticated, and undeniably exquisite, the kind of shoes designed for private galas or high-end evening events.

you noticed him looking and followed his line of sight, catching a glance at the silver detailing before checking the tiny designer label beneath them.

you let out a low, breathy laugh at the sheer number of zeroes on the price tag and leaned closer to him. “those are ridiculous,” you murmured under your breath as the clerk handed you your boxed flats. “gorgeous, but completely absurd for real life.”

james didn’t say a word right away. he simply pocketed his phone, walked smoothly over to the counter, and motioned quietly to the sales associate.

“could we see those slate silk heels in a size eight, please?” james asked calmly, his tone so light he might as well have been asking for a glass of tap water.

you immediately whipped your head around, your eyes wide as you grabbed his forearm through his heavy coat. “james, no!” you hissed quietly, pulling him back a step. “what are you doing? i came in here for forty thousand-won flats. i don’t need five-inch silk designer heels, and i certainly don’t have anywhere to wear them to.”

james didn’t look bothered in the slightest by your subtle panic. he looked down at your hand on his arm, a soft, indulgent smile curving his lips. “just let her bring them out so you can check the fit, yn.”

“i don’t need to check the fit,” you argued softly. “they cost more than my first car’s entire transmission!”

when the associate returned and set the silk heels down on the velvet rug, james casually dropped to one knee in front of you on the store floor. he didn’t care that the sales staff was watching or that people were passing by the glass storefront outside. he simply extended his hand, waiting patiently for you to slide your foot out of your casual shoe.

“james, please,” you whispered, feeling your cheeks warm up under the boutique’s bright lights. “this is crazy. get up—”

“just try them on, sweetheart. humour me,” he murmured, his voice smooth and steady as his long fingers wrapped gently around your ankle, lifting your foot to guide it into the silk shoe.

the moment your foot slid inside, the shoe fit like it had been custom-molded to your arch. the silver hardware gleamed softly against your skin, matching the quiet, understated silver rings you always wore on your hands. you looked down, unable to deny how stunningly beautiful they were, how they made your legs look long and elegant even beneath your oversized sweater.

“see?” james said softly, looking up at you from his spot on the floor. “absolute perfection.”

“they’re far too expensive, james,” you argued softly, shaking your head as you looked down at him. “i can’t possibly let you buy me something that extravagant for no reason at all. it’s not like i’m attending an award show.”

he stood up smoothly, dusting off his trousers before taking the boutique’s credit card reader from the associate without missing a beat.

“we’ll take them,” he told the clerk, tapping his black card against the machine and settling the absurd total before you could even process the transaction. “and pack up her old flats into the bag, please. she’s wearing these out.”

“right away, sir,” the clerk smiled.

james turned back to you, stepping close enough that his coat brushed against your sweater. he held your waist gently, looking down into your conflicted eyes.

“james, seriously—” you started.

“buying my girl a pair of shoes that makes her feel breathtaking isn’t merely an indulgence, yn,” he interrupted gently, his thumb tracing the curve of your hip through the thick sweater. “i didn’t buy them so you could hide them in a closet for a special occasion. i bought them because i saw something beautiful, knew it belonged on you, and wanted you to have the absolute best beneath your feet whenever you walk anywhere with me.”

“i don’t need designer shoes to walk with you,” you whispered.

“i know you don’t,” james replied softly, leaning down to press his lips against yours for a brief, sweet moment. “but making sure you feel adored, elevated, and pampered from head to toe is basic. if i can’t put you in stunning shoes, i’m not doing my job as your boyfriend properly.”

you let out a quiet sigh, looking down at the gleaming silver detailing on your toes, completely helpless against the relentless tide of his affection. “you’re utterly ruined.”

he simply kissed your forehead, whispering back, “i’m perfectly fine with that, as long as you’re the one ruining me.”

the rain returned two sundays later, a heavy, grey downpour that turned the city outside james’ high-rise penthouse into a blurred watercolor painting. the apartment was silent save for the soft, ambient hum of music floating through the hidden ceiling speakers and the rhythmic patter of water against the floor-to-ceiling glass windows.

you were curled up on the edge of his deep charcoal leather sofa, your feet tucked beneath a heavy silver-grey knit throw blanket as you turned a page of your book. james was sitting nearby, a dark ceramic mug of coffee resting on the low table in front of him. he was pretending to scroll through news updates on his tablet, but in reality, he spent far more time watching the calm, relaxed expression on your face than reading any headlines.

without any warning, he reached into his pocket, pulled out a small, heavy velvet box, and tossed it gently onto the throw blanket near your knee.

you blinked, pausing your reading to look at the box, then lifted your eyes to glare at him with mild suspicion. “what is this?”

“it’s a box,” he replied with total deadpan ease, lifting his mug to take a slow sip of black coffee.

“james…” you dragged out his name, raising an eyebrow high. “is today an anniversary i somehow managed to forget? is it a secret holiday? is it my birthday?”

“no, no, and no,” he answered smoothly, setting his coffee back down on the glass tabletop.

“then why are you handing me a jewelry box on a random sunday afternoon?”

“because it’s sunday,” he said, as if that simple fact explained the entire mechanics of the universe. “and because i felt like giving it to you.”

you picked up the velvet box, holding it delicately between your fingertips. “james, we talked about this. we established ground rules about spontaneous, unnecessary spending. you don’t need to keep giving me things just because the sky is blue outside.”

“open it before you start your formal lecture,” he requested calmly. “do it for my own peace of mind.”

rolling your eyes with a quiet laugh, you popped open the spring lid of the velvet box. nestled inside against a dark satin cushion was a heavy, exquisitely crafted band of solid sterling silver. you had always preferred silver over gold—you loved its cool, understated elegance, the way it shimmered softly without being loud or ostentatious. james shared that exact same taste, his own watch and cufflinks always featuring polished silver accents.

the ring in the box was sleek, heavy, and timeless. but as you lifted it out of its velvet bed to examine it closer in the dim light of the room, you caught the delicate script engraved along the smooth inner curve of the metal.

you brought it right up to your eyes, reading the fine inscription. etched into the polished silver was your full name in elegant, precise lettering, followed by a set of fine coordinate points—the exact latitude and longitude of the quiet coastal overlook where the two of you had parked his car and talked for five hours straight on your very first real date.

your breath hitched slightly, a quiet lump forming in your throat. the sheer depth of thought embedded in the small band of metal hit you square in the chest, instantly wiping away any sarcastic remarks or arguments about price.

“james…” you swallowed hard, tracing the smooth, cool inner script with the tip of your thumb. “it’s gorgeous.”

he stood up from his chair, walking over to sit on the edge of the sofa right beside your legs. he reached out, taking the ring gently from your fingers, his other hand sliding beneath your knees to pull your legs into his lap so you were facing him completely.

“give me your hand, pretty girl,” he murmured softly.

you extended your right hand, watching in silence as he carefully slid the cool silver band onto your middle finger. it fit with absolute precision, settling against your skin as if it had been meant to live there forever, matching the other silver rings you already wore every day.

“why?” you asked softly, looking up into his dark, warm eyes. “why give me custom-engraved silver on an ordinary, lazy sunday?”

james brought your hand up to his mouth, resting his warm lips against the newly placed silver ring for a long, quiet moment. when he looked up, his expression carried an intense, protective softness that made your pulse jump. “because you wear your independence and your pride like heavy armor,” he said quietly, his thumb caressing your knuckles. “i wanted you to have something solid, something real and cool against your skin, that serves as a constant reminder that you belong to someone who cherishes you, even when we’re doing nothing more than sitting on a sofa watching the rain.”

“custom silver jewelry for no reason isn’t normal behavior, pewtty boy,” you whispered, though a soft, affectionate smile was tugging at your lips.

“who said anything about normal?” he countered softly, leaning forward until his chest was lightly resting against your knees. he reached up, his hand cupping the side of your neck, his thumb resting gently against your jawline, feeling the soft warmth of your skin. “listen to me closely, yn,” he murmured. “a custom silver band with your name on it, given simply because i thought of you while driving past an artisan shop downtown, is basic. it’s step one. giving a gift to the woman you love just to see her smile on an unmemorable afternoon is the absolute bare minimum expected of any man who claims to hold her heart.”

“you keep using that phrase—’bare minimum’,” you said to him softly, sliding your fingers into his soft hair. “i don’t think you truly understand what the it actually means for normal people, baby.”

“it means whatever standard i choose to set for how you deserve to be treated,” he replied without a single second of hesitation. his hand shifted, his fingers sliding up into the dark waves of your hair to pull you gently closer. “you spend so much of your life taking care of every single detail yourself,” he continued, his voice dropping into a tender murmur against your skin. “your job, your apartment, your responsibilities. you’re so fiercely determined never to be a burden to anyone around you. so let me burden you instead. let me pamper you. not because you ‘can’t’ buy your own silver, but because i demand to be the man who puts it on your fingers.”

he leaned in, pressing a slow, deep kiss to your lips that tasted of dark coffee and warmth, lingering against you until your arms naturally found their way around his broad shoulders, pulling his frame down against yours.

when he finally pulled back, his dark eyes were shining with an affection so heavy it made your breath catch.

“now,” he murmured against your cheek, “are you going to keep fighting me on every detail, or are you going to let me make you late lunch?”

“i’ll only agree if you let me stand in the kitchen and help you cook,” you negotiated weakly.

james chuckled softly, pressing a quick kiss to your temple as he stood up, lifting you effortlessly off the sofa with him. “that’s an acceptable compromise, sweetheart.”

bez povoda mne podari, kol’tso s moim imenem (‘give me, for no reason, a ring with my name on it’)... ☆

the following month, the late-autumn weather reached its breaking point, unleashing a severe, relentless storm over the city. the sky turned a dark, bruised shade of slate grey, pouring sheets of torrential rain that flooded the lower intersections and brought city traffic to an absolute, gridlocked standstill.

it was the kind of day where everything that could go wrong did. your day at work had been an absolute nightmare of tight deadlines, but the real disaster struck when you walked out to the parking garage at seven in the evening. you turned your key in the ignition, only to hear a hollow, metallic clicking sound before your dashboard lights flickered once and died completely. your alternator had chosen the worst possible evening to completely collapse.

you spent the next forty-five minutes sitting in the damp, freezing interior of your dead car, trying to call roadside assistance while the rain hammered against your windshield like gravel. the tow company gave you a two-hour wait time, your phone battery was draining rapidly, and by the time you finally managed to get a rideshare back to your apartment building, your clothes were damp, your shoes were soaked through, and your shoulders were locked tight with pure, unadulterated physical and mental exhaustion.

you dragged yourself up the stairs to your floor, your wet key fumbling against the lock before you finally managed to push your apartment door open.

you expected a dark, cold flat. instead, you were instantly hit by a wave of lingering heat and the rich, mouth-watering aroma of roasted garlic, fresh herbs, and simmered broth filling your hallway.

standing in your small, modest kitchen, his shirt sleeves neatly rolled up to his elbows to reveal his stupidly beautiful forearms, was james. he was calmly stirring a simmering pot on your stove, looking entirely at home despite the sharp contrast between your humble kitchen and his expansive penthouse.

you stood frozen in the doorway, your dripping umbrella hanging loosely in your hand as you stared at him. “james? what… how did you even get inside?”

he set his wooden spoon down on a rest, taking three long strides across the hardwood to take the dripping umbrella from your cold fingers and set it in the corner. without saying a single word, he unbuttoned your wet coat, peeling the heavy material off your shivering shoulders and hanging it up by the door. then he took both of your freezing hands into his warm ones, bringing them up to his mouth to breathe hot air over your pale knuckles.

“your landlord knows me well enough by now,” he explained quietly. “and your tow truck driver called me directly when he picked up your car.”

you blinked, completely bewildered through your haze of exhaustion. “wait… why on earth would a tow truck driver call you about my car?”

he offered a calm, unbothered explanation, admitting casually, “i placed a discreet tracking tag on your main key fob three months ago for safety and emergency situations. when your vehicle remained completely stationary in your office lot past seven o’clock with the hood popping an engine error on my tracking display, i got an automated ping on my phone.”

“you tracked my car?” you asked softly, almost laughing.

“i monitored a potential hazard,” he corrected smoothly. “i stepped in immediately, called my personal mechanic, arranged a flatbed transport, and settled the entire repair bill upfront with the garage owner. they’re replacing the alternator, swapping out the dead battery, and completing a full brake inspection. the car will be delivered back to your assigned parking spot by tomorrow afternoon, and i’ll drop you off at work tomorrow morning.”

you stood there in the middle of your warm hallway, completely stunned into silence. you had spent the last two hours stressing about how much a sudden alternator repair was going to hurt your monthly budget, how you were going to navigate commuting without a car, and whether the mechanics would try to take advantage of your lack of auto expertise.

and in the span of an hour, james had silently, invisibly erased every single one of those problems before you had even set foot inside your front door.

“james…” you started again, your stubborn pride raising its head even through your bone-deep tiredness. “an alternator repair costs well over a million won. i have an emergency savings fund specifically built for situations like this. you can’t just cover massive automotive bills for me!”

he stepped closer, taking your face gently between both of his broad, warm hands. his thumbs brushed over your damp cheekbones, wiping away stray drops of rain with delicate precision.

“stop talking, pretty girl,” he said softly.

“i’m fully capable of paying my own mechanic,” you whispered, looking up into his eyes. “you don’t need to step in and fix an obstacle in my life the second things go sideways.”

he looked down at you, his dark eyes locked onto yours with a fierce, unwavering intensity that made your heart skip a beat.

“baby, i’ll say this however many times it takes to fully convince you: i’m not fixing your life because i believe you’re helpless or incompetent,” he said firmly. “i know with full certainty that you could have called your own tow truck, paid the garage out of your savings, and managed the inconvenience entirely on your own strength. you’re brilliant, resilient, and fiercely independent.” he leaned his head down, resting his forehead directly against yours, his warm breath fanning across your lips. “but what’s the point of me having resources, influence, and capability,” he murmured, “if i don’t use them to clear the path for the woman i love when she’s exhausted? letting you freeze in the rain while you drain your hard-earned savings on an unexpected car failure isn’t something i will ever allow.”

you closed your eyes, leaning your weight into his touch. “it feels like too much,” you confessed softly. “it makes me feel bad… how much you do for me.”

“it isn’t too much, i promise, sweetheart,” he said, his lips pressing a warm kiss against the bridge of your nose. “taking care of logistics when your girlfriend is stranded in a storm is standard human decency. taking care of a million-won repair so you don’t have to stress about money after a brutal workday is the absolute bare minimum expected of any man standing in my position.”

he guided you toward the heated bathroom, where he had already turned on the hot shower, steaming up the glass enclosure and filling the space with warm, soothing vapour. he smoothed your damp hair back from your forehead.

“now,” he said firmly, “get under the hot water. get warm, and change into the dry clothes i brought over from my place that are waiting on your bed. you’re not allowed to think about a single bill, a single mechanical issue, or a single work stress for the remainder of the night. do you understand me?”

you looked up at him—this breathtakingly handsome, fiercely loyal man who treated massive acts of financial and emotional rescue as if they were simple, everyday courtesies—and felt the very last brick of your stubborn, self-reliant wall crumble into dust.

“okay,” you offered softly, a genuine, relieved smile finally breaking across your tired face. “yeah, okay.”

“good girl,” he murmured, pressing a quiet, lingering kiss against your temple before stepping out of the bathroom and closing the door behind him to give you quiet space.

an hour later, the heavy rain continued to hammer relentlessly against your bedroom window pane. the room was bathed in the warm, quiet glow of a single bedside lamp, casting long shadows across the cozy space.

you were sitting between james’ long legs as he leaned back against your headboard, your back pressed comfortably against his broad chest. he was slowly twirling the silver band on your finger, his chin resting lightly on your shoulder as you both relaxed in the quiet dark of the room.

“james?” you called his name softly, tilting your head back against his collarbone.

“hmm?” he hummed in response, his arm tightening around your waist, his thumb tracing smooth patterns against the knit of your sweater.

“do you truly, genuinely believe everything you say?” you asked softly. “that the phone, the dinners, the heels, the custom silver, and handling my car repairs are all just the ‘bare minimum’?”

he went still for a long moment, his chest expanding against your back as he took a deep, deliberate breath. “i believe,” he said quietly, “that the world treats independent women with an unfair amount of coldness. people expect you to carry every heavy burden entirely by yourself simply because you’re capable of doing so. they see a woman who is strong, competent, and self-sufficient, and they assume she doesn’t need pampering, doesn’t need protection, and doesn’t need someone to step in and make her life easier once in a while.” he turned his head slightly, pressing a soft, warm kiss against the curve of your neck. “i know you don’t need me to survive, my love,” he continued, his voice low and steady. “you were thriving long before i walked into your life, and you will continue to thrive no matter what. but as long as you choose to give me your heart, my job isn’t just to watch you handle everything alone. my job is to give you a safe place to lay your burden down. to take the weight off your shoulders when you’re tired, and to give you beautiful things simply because seeing you smile is the best part of my day.” he lifted your left hand, catching the soft glow of the engraved silver ring in the dim light of the bedroom. “buying you a working phone when yours is broken, paying for dinner when i take you out, sliding designer shoes onto your feet, giving you engraved silver for no reason, and fixing your car before you can stress about it—that isn’t extraordinary love, yn,” james whispered, his voice rich and deep in the quiet dark. “that’s the bare minimum. that’s the standard entry fee for the immense privilege of being allowed to love you.”

you turned around in his lap, shifting so you could sit cross-legged facing him, cupping his jaw with both of your hands, your silver ring resting cool against his cheek. “you’re setting the bar dangerously high for anyone else in the world, pretty boy,” you told him softly.

james leaned into the touch of your hands, a slow, devastatingly beautiful smile breaking across his features as he wrapped his arms tightly around your waist, pulling you flush against his chest.

“good,” he whispered against your lips, his dark eyes shining with pure, unyielding devotion. “because you deserve nothing less than the absolute highest standard imaginable. and as long as you belong to me, sweetheart, i’m only just getting started.”

bazovyy minimum (‘basic minimum’)... ☆

© hyuneskkami ❦

some hms for alternate banner icons i had the HARDEST time choosing between 😁💞:

James knew he messed up the second the words left his mouth.

“…My girlfriend actually says I always forget to charge my phone.”

Silence filled the room, the kind that only happened during interviews when everyone in the room realised something important had just been said.

The interviewer blinked. One camera operator lowered his camera just enough to look over it.

James’ eyes shifted to his manager’s face completely drain of colour. James’ own expression slowly changed from relaxed to horrified.

“…I…” He looked around. “…Can we… edit that?”

“I’m afraid we’re live.”

James closed his eyes.

“Oh.”

—

The clip was online before Cortis even left the building.

JAMES FROM CORTIS CONFIRMS HE HAS A GIRLFRIEND

WHO IS SHE?

DID ANYONE ELSE HEAR THAT?

HE SAID GIRLFRIEND.

Fans immediately began analysing every sentence he had ever spoken.

Every airport appearance.

Every holiday.

Every blurry reflection in every Instagram post. James sat in the company van staring at his phone while notifications multiplied faster than he could read them.

His manager was already on call with the PR team, another staff member kept muttering, “This is going to be a long night.”

James wasn’t listening.

He pressed your contact. The phone rang twice and you answered.

“Hi.”

“…I’m sorry.”

There was a pause, and you laughed, not a little giggle, but a full, uncontrollable one.

James frowned.

“Why are you laughing?”

“I’m sorry,” you giggled. “I just watched the clip.”

“…”

“You looked like someone told you your house was on fire.”

“I basically set it on fire myself.”

“No, James.” You laughed again. “Your face.”

“I am being serious.”

“So am I. I’ve never seen someone regret speaking that quickly.”

James leaned back in his seat.

“My career might actually be over.”

“Oh, I’m sure it’s fine.”

“My manager looked like he aged ten years.”

“I saw him.”

“He looked ready to faint.”

“I know.”

You couldn’t stop smiling, and James sighed dramatically.

“I call because I’m having a crisis and you’re making fun of me.”

“I’m supporting you.”

“How?”

“By reminding you, you’ll survive.”

—

An hour later he arrived at the dorm. Everyone sat down on the couch in complete silence. No one spoke.

Martin slowly held up his phone.

“#JamesGirlfriend has eight hundred thousand posts.”

“So.”

James groaned.

“Don’t.”

“You have a girlfriend.”

“I know.

“A real one.”

“I know.”

“You’ve been hiding her for years.”

“I know.”

“You finally slipped.”

James buried his face in his hands.

“I know.”

The room erupted into laughter.

—

By midnight, every fan forum had created elaborate theories.

Some believed she’d been a childhood friend. Others thought she was a celebrity. Someone insisted she was imaginary. One particularly viral post claimed James had accidentally been talking about his dog.

He sent that one to you.

James: Apparently you’re a golden retriever.

You: Woof.

He laughed harder than he had all day.

The next morning the company finally released a statement.

It was short but necessary.

“James is in a private relationship. We ask that his privacy, and that of his partner, be respected.”

That was it, there was no denial, no explanation or elaboration, just confirmation. James read it three times before calling you again.

“You’ve seen it?”

“I have.”

“You okay?”

“Mhm.”

“You don’t sound worried.”

“I’m not.”

“You don’t mind?”

“I’ve known dating an idol meant something like this could happen eventually.”

“…”

“I would have preffered it happend because you accidentally mentioned me than because someone invaded our privacy.”

James smiled.

“You always know what to say.”

“No.”

“You do.”

“I just know you.”

–

A week later the attention slowly began to settle a little bit.

People were still curious.

There were edits.

Compilations.

Reaction videos.

Thousands of comments debating who you could possibly be.

James ignored all of it and instead he spent the evening on a video call with you.

You were cooking and he was attempting to help.

“You forgot the salt.”

“I didn’t.”

“You definitely did.”

“I can add it later.”

“That’s not how cooking works.”

“It absolutely is. You’re impossible.”

“So I’ve been told.”

“You know…”

“Hmm?”

“I still can’t believe that’s how everyone found out.”

James rubbed the back of his neck.

“Honestly? I always thought I would make some big romantic announcement years from now.”

“Oh?”

“Maybe post a picture of our hands.”

“Cute.”

“Or flowers.”

“Cuter.”

“Instead…”

“You accidentaly said ‘my girlfriend’ because you forgot you were famous.”

James groaned.

“Please never say it like that again.”

“I’m absolutely saying it like that forever.”

He pointed at the camera.

“I love you.”

You smiled.

“I love you too.”

“…Even if you laugh at my suffering.”

“Especially because I laugh at your suffering.”

James shook his head, unable to stop smiling.

Maybe it hadn’t happened the way either of you had imagined. Maybe the internet had exploded, the company had panicked, and his members would never let him live it down.

But at the end of the day, the only opinion that had ever mattered was yours.

 the room was quiet except for keonho’s endless complaining, and eventually he let out a long groan before throwing an arm over his eyes. “no, i’m done, sean. no more y/n this year. she’s clearly not into me, so there’s no point in chasing after her if all she’s ever going to do is insult me.” his voice was full of frustration, though there was something miserable about the way he said it.

seonghyeon rolled his eyes so hard it was a miracle they did not get stuck. after listening to the exact same speech every summer since they were eleven years old, he had long since lost the ability to take it seriously. “keonho, we’ve had this exact conversation six years in a row. seven, now. you love the girl. just admit you’ll never get over her.” he said it casually, as though stating a simple fact, which only made keonho react even more dramatically.

“no, i don’t! i don’t love her!” keonho shouted immediately, bolting upright so fast he nearly fell off the bed. his face turned bright red as he pointed accusingly at seonghyeon, who looked entirely unimpressed by the outburst. keonho let out another frustrated groan before burying his face into his pillow and screaming into it, while seonghyeon watched him with the expression of someone witnessing a particularly embarrassing public spectacle.

“alright, mate, no need to get defensive.” seonghyeon replied dryly, and that only made keonho even more offended. he was already preparing another argument, which would most likely consist of more shouting than actual words, when seonghyeon suddenly noticed movement outside the dormitory window. perched patiently on the ledge was a school owl carrying several letters, and without hesitation seonghyeon stood up, shoved keonho aside before he could continue yelling, and opened the window to let the bird inside.

the owl flew in gracefully and dropped its letters onto the nearest bed before immediately taking off again. both boys grabbed their envelopes, eager to see their seventh year information, and keonho lazily flopped back onto his mattress while holding the letter above his face. for a moment everything seemed completely normal, right up until something heavy suddenly slipped from the envelope and came crashing directly onto his nose.

a loud curse escaped him as he immediately dropped the letter and clutched his face in pain. “bloody hell!” he groaned, squeezing his eyes shut while seonghyeon leaned over to investigate. whatever had fallen looked metallic, and after picking it up from the blanket beside keonho, seonghyeon glanced down at it curiously. the second he read the words engraved across the front, his eyes widened so much they looked ready to fall out of his head.

“what? what is it?!” keonho demanded, sitting upright immediately as panic flashed across his face. seonghyeon looked between the badge and his best friend before letting out a scream loud enough to wake the entire street. “you’re head boy?!” he yelled.

“what?!” keonho practically shrieked as he snatched the badge from seonghyeon’s hands. his eyes dropped to the polished burgundy pin trimmed in gold, and right there in bold lettering were the words head boy. for several seconds he simply stared at it in complete disbelief before the realization finally hit him. the next thing seonghyeon knew, keonho was bouncing wildly on top of his bed while screaming at the top of his lungs, nearly hitting his head on the ceiling as he celebrated.

seonghyeon was laughing too hard to stop him, but then he happened to glance down at the rest of the letter. curious, he quickly unfolded it and began reading the details included beneath the appointment notice. his amusement vanished instantly as his eyes landed on one particular name, and he froze so abruptly that keonho finally stopped jumping.

“keonho!” seonghyeon shouted.

still standing on the mattress, keonho looked down at him excitedly. “what?”

seonghyeon slowly lowered the letter, his grin growing wider with every passing second. “you’ll never guess who the head girl is.”

for a moment keonho simply stared at him, and then a familiar expression began creeping across his face. it started as a tiny smile before quickly growing into something far more dangerous. “is it…” he asked, barely able to contain himself.

seonghyeon remained silent for a few agonizing seconds purely for dramatic effect before finally throwing the letter into the air and screaming. “it’s y/n!”

the reaction was immediate. both boys exploded into identical screams loud enough to shake the room, and within seconds they were jumping across the bed together like a pair of overexcited first years who had consumed far too much sugar. neither of them could stop laughing as they bounced around the room, celebrating as though they had personally won the quidditch world cup.

“i’m getting the girl!” keonho screamed, pointing triumphantly at himself.

“you’re getting the girl!” seonghyeon screamed right back, matching his energy perfectly as they continued jumping around like complete idiots. 

you sat inside one of the hogwarts express compartments with your arms crossed tightly over your chest while wonhee and yoonchae emptied an alarming amount of sweets between the two of them. wrappers were already beginning to pile up, yet neither girl showed any signs of slowing down as they happily passed candies back and forth while discussing absolutely nothing important.

a chocolate frog suddenly leapt from yoonchae’s fingers before she could eat it, landing directly on your lap with a soft thump. before it could escape again, you grabbed it without hesitation and tossed it into your mouth. your bad mood had been following you all morning, and unfortunately for everyone around you, it showed very clearly on your face.

“y/n, come on. keonho is really not that bad.” yoonchae said as she unwrapped another sweet, while wonhee nodded immediately beside her. “yeah, and me and him are actually really good friends. don’t kill me for saying this, but i think you and him would make a pretty cute couple. your personalities kind of compliment each other.”

you were just about to tell wonhee exactly how ridiculous that statement was when the compartment door suddenly flew open with enough force to slam against the wall. “that they do! hello, ladies!” keonho announced proudly as though he had been waiting outside specifically to hear that conversation. before you could object, he dropped into the empty seat beside you and flashed an annoyingly confident grin.

your expression immediately darkened. seonghyeon entered right behind him and made himself comfortable between wonhee and yoonchae, looking entirely pleased with the situation, while juhoon, james, and martin poked their heads through the doorway moments later. “hey! how was your summer?” martin asked cheerfully as he looked around the compartment, earning greetings from all three girls.

you actually liked most of keonho’s friends, which was probably the most frustrating part about the entire situation. james was quiet, kind, and usually impossible to find without a book somewhere nearby, while his love for chocolate rivaled even yoonchae’s sweet tooth. despite the scars scattered across his face, he always carried himself with a calm gentleness that made people naturally trust him. 

juhoon was much quieter and far more reserved than the others, but he was incredibly intelligent, and you had always enjoyed talking to him whenever you got the chance.

martin was probably the closest thing the group had to a reasonable version of seonghyeon and keonho combined. he loved pranks, caused trouble almost daily, and was loud enough to rival both of them, but unlike the other two, he actually understood boundaries and knew when a joke had gone too far. beneath all the chaos, he was genuinely thoughtful, which was exactly why most people liked him.

while everyone else settled into conversation and began catching up after the summer holiday, you focused your attention firmly on the passing scenery outside the train window. unfortunately, that became difficult when you noticed keonho sitting far too close for comfort. every time you glanced toward the glass, you could feel his eyes fixed on the side of your face, and when you risked a quick look in his direction, you found him smiling at you like an idiot.

“keonho…” james called from the doorway after a while, his tone carrying the familiar patience of someone who had spent years dealing with him.

keonho completely ignored him. his eyes remained fixed on you while his grin somehow managed to grow wider, and across from him yoonchae had to cover her mouth to hide her laughter. eventually juhoon stepped forward and sighed. “we have the prefect meeting.” he reminded him.

you immediately stood up before anyone could say another word. the chance to escape was far too good to pass up, and you quickly reached for the stack of folders you had prepared for all twenty four prefects. behind you, james let out a disappointed sigh as though he had already predicted exactly what would happen next.

“how the hell did keonho manage to become head boy? don’t you need to be a prefect first to achieve that?” wonhee asked, sounding genuinely confused.

keonho placed a hand dramatically over his chest and smiled proudly. “dumbledore just saw my potential. i knew he loved me.”

“there hasn’t been a single day in the last six years where you haven’t been in detention. maybe old age is finally starting to get to dumbledore.” you replied before walking out of the compartment.

predictably, keonho followed immediately. james and juhoon remained a short distance behind since they were prefects themselves, but keonho stayed right beside you as you made your way through the train. “i know somewhere deep, deep down you love me, y/n. i know it. even your friends think we’d be perfect together. you heard what wonhee said. our personalities compliment each other.”

before you could stop him, he draped an arm around your shoulders.

you reacted instantly. jumping away from him, you smacked him repeatedly with the stack of folders in your hands while glaring furiously. “don’t touch me! you’re such a dog!” you shouted as the folders continued landing against his back.

instead of looking offended, keonho immediately burst into laughter. every hit seemed to amuse him even more, and eventually you gave up and stormed ahead before he could say anything else. “you’ve been calling me a dog for years now, my y/n. oh, if only you knew how true that is.” he said between laughs as he hurried after you.

you glanced behind yourself just long enough to see james and juhoon trying and failing to hide their smiles. for some reason, every single one of them found the nickname hilarious despite the fact that it was very much intended as an insult. “that’s not a compliment, you prat.” you replied with an annoyed roll of your eyes.

by the time the conversation finally ended, you had reached the prefects’ compartment. stopping outside the door, you turned sharply toward keonho while he looked back at you with the exact same irritating smile. behind him, james and juhoon lingered quietly, clearly interested in seeing how this would unfold.

“okay, listen carefully. for whatever reason, you were chosen to be head boy, which is a decision i personally find questionable, but i won’t comment on that. you have absolutely no idea how any of this works, and i’m willing to bet you never bothered asking james or juhoon about any of it. just stay quiet and don’t interrupt.”

keonho immediately straightened his posture and saluted. “yes, ma’am!” he announced loudly enough for several nearby students to turn around.

you sighed heavily and shook your head. “stupid.” you muttered.

“hey, i heard that. i’ll have you know i’m very smart.” he protested.

“i told you to shut your trap.”

“right.”

he straightened up even more as though he were reporting for military duty, though you missed the sight entirely because you had already opened the compartment door and stepped inside. juhoon walked past him with a deeply unimpressed expression, while james paused long enough to pat him on the shoulder.

“this year is your last chance to get with her, mate. don’t mess it up.”

for the first time all day, keonho stopped smiling.

as the compartment door slid shut behind everyone, the realization finally settled over him. seventh year had arrived much faster than any of them expected, and after this year hogwarts would be over. there would be no eighth year, no extra chances, and no more opportunities waiting around the corner. if he failed now, there was a very real possibility that he would spend the rest of his life wondering what might have happened if he had managed to make you look at him the same way he looked at you.

 the past few weeks had been absolute hell for you, and at this point you were beginning to wonder if the universe had personally decided to test your patience. your classes were becoming increasingly difficult as professors buried seventh years beneath mountains of assignments, revision schedules, essays, and examinations, while the pressure of upcoming n.e.w.t.s seemed to follow you everywhere you went. unfortunately, the endless studying was only half the problem, because keonho had somehow become even more unbearable than usual.

for reasons you could not begin to understand, he had started following you around like a lost puppy. at first, you ignored him completely, assuming he would eventually get bored and find something else to occupy his attention, but instead the opposite happened.

every day he seemed more determined than the last, appearing wherever you went with that stupid grin permanently attached to his face. after nearly a week of having absolutely no peace or privacy, your irritation had steadily grown until simply hearing his voice was enough to make your eye twitch.the worst part was that you could not bring yourself to properly yell at him. normally, you had no problem putting people in their place when they annoyed you, and keonho certainly deserved it more than most, but every time you considered truly snapping at him, something stopped you. you hated that feeling.

you hated not understanding it even more. 

that was exactly why you found yourself sitting beside the black lake long after midnight. according to the castle clocks, it was already approaching three in the morning, which meant that as head girl you absolutely should have been in bed setting a good example for everyone else. unfortunately, being responsible felt significantly less appealing when your thoughts refused to leave you alone.the grass beneath you felt cool as you stretched out on your back and stared up at the night sky. above you, thousands of stars glittered against the darkness while the moon hung peacefully overhead.

thankfully, it was nowhere near a full moon. the sight immediately made you think of james, and a familiar sadness settled inside your chest.the moon had always been one of your favorite things in the world. whenever you looked at it, you felt calm, peaceful, and strangely comforted, as though all the chaos in your life became quieter for a little while.

it was beautiful and reassuring in a way you could never properly explain. for james, however, the moon meant something entirely different.

where you saw beauty, he saw pain. where you found peace, he found fear. every full moon brought suffering, dread, and memories no one should have to carry, and instead of simply admiring its light, he was forced to endure transformations that left both physical and emotional scars behind.you felt guilty sometimes for how much comfort the moon gave you when it caused someone you cared about so much pain. you did not know how james managed to endure it month after month, year after year, without completely breaking apart. the thought alone made your chest ache.

suddenly, something wet brushed against your cheek.you let out an undignified scream and nearly launched yourself off the ground before spinning around in alarm. the panic disappeared almost immediately when you found yourself staring into a familiar pair of dark eyes. standing beside you was a golden retriever whose tail was already wagging happily.“goldie!” you gasped, pressing a hand against your chest as relief flooded through you.

goldie tilted his head innocently as though he had absolutely no idea why you had reacted that way. you had been seeing him around the grounds for nearly three years now, usually during nights when you slipped outside to clear your head. despite wandering around hogwarts after curfew, he was always clean, healthy, and well fed, which had convinced you long ago that someone must have secretly brought him into the castle. dogs were not allowed at hogwarts, but clearly nobody had informed goldie of that rule.

“hey, cutie.” you cooed immediately, your bad mood disappearing the second he approached. he padded closer before resting his head on your thigh and gazing up at you with eyes so impossibly adorable that your heart practically melted. “awh, did you miss me?” you asked softly.

goldie responded with a quiet whine.you groaned dramatically and pressed a hand over your face. “oh, stop doing that, goldie. you know it makes me feel bad.”

another whine escaped him.your shoulders slumped in defeat. “oh my god, fine. come here.”

the moment you leaned back against the nearby tree, goldie wasted absolutely no time. he climbed directly into your lap and practically collapsed on top of you, burying his face against your neck with a content sigh. the force of his weight nearly knocked the air from your lungs.“sometimes you act like a freaking human or something.” you complained while gently scratching behind his ears. “also, you’re really heavy. holy shit.”

despite your complaints, your fingers continued moving through his soft fur while goldie remained perfectly content where he was. eventually he lifted his head just enough to look up at you, and before you could react, he licked your cheek enthusiastically.you laughed despite yourself. “you’re not an animagus, right? because that would be kind of weird. i’d sue you.”

for a brief moment, goldie seemed strangely frozen.you smiled softly and shook your head. “of course you don’t know what that means. you’re just a cute little dog.”

leaning forward, you pressed a gentle kiss against his snout.goldie immediately let out another soft whine.“i told you to stop doing that,” you scolded while nudging him lightly.this time he did not respond. instead, he simply snuggled closer against you, looking entirely too comfortable.“don’t fall asleep.” you muttered. “i have to go back up soon.”

when you looked down a few moments later, his eyes were already closed.you sighed and reached into your pocket before pulling out the remains of a sandwich you had saved from dinner. carefully unwrapping it, you held it beneath his nose and waited. for several seconds nothing happened, and then suddenly goldie’s eyes flew open as though someone had cast a revival charm on him.“there you are.”his tail wagged furiously as you fed him the sandwich piece by piece until nothing remained. once he finished, you pushed yourself to your feet and stretched your sore muscles, knowing you could not avoid sleep forever.

almost immediately, goldie began whining again.your heart weakened instantly.“oh, come on.” you complained softly. “you know i have to sleep too. i’ll come back tomorrow.”

the whining continued.you crouched down in front of him and gently cupped his face between your hands before pressing one final kiss against his snout. “goodnight, goldie.”

his ears drooped dramatically as though you had personally broken his heart.forcing yourself not to laugh, you stood up and began walking back toward the castle. behind you, goldie remained exactly where he was, watching your retreating figure until you disappeared through the darkness, and only once you were completely gone did the golden retriever lower himself onto the grass with a long sigh that sounded suspiciously human.

a few days later, the full moon was drawing closer, and as always, you found yourself worrying about james more than he probably wanted you to. every year the signs appeared days before the transformation itself, and every year you hated seeing them. no matter how much time passed, no matter how many years he endured it, there was never a point where it became easier to watch. knowing that someone as kind as james had to go through that every month felt deeply unfair.

your arms were filled with enough snacks to feed an entire study group as you hurried into the great hall. several students glanced at the ridiculous amount of food you were carrying, but you ignored them completely while searching for a familiar face. it did not take long before you spotted james sitting at one of the tables with a book open in front of him, completely absorbed in whatever he was reading.

you immediately made your way over to him, and the closer you got, the more obvious the changes became. the scars scattered across his face looked noticeably redder than usual, as though they had suddenly become irritated overnight. his skin appeared pale beneath the floating candlelight, and dark circles rested beneath his eyes despite the fact that he had probably slept more than most students. the approaching full moon always affected him long before it actually arrived.

dropping the pile of supplies onto the table, you startled him badly enough that he nearly jumped out of his seat. his eyes widened before he relaxed upon seeing you standing there.

“hey.” you said as you slid onto the bench beside him, slightly breathless from carrying everything across the castle. “it’s the first full moon of the school year, so i thought i’d get you some stuff.”

james blinked before glancing down at the collection of snacks, chocolates, and supplies spread across the table. a small smile immediately appeared on his face as he picked up one of the boxes. “painkillers? you know we have magic for that, right?”

your face instantly turned red.

“i’m sorry.” you groaned, lowering your head into your hands. “i can’t believe i’ve known about being a witch for seven years and i still somehow forget that magic can solve almost everything.”

james laughed softly.

“don’t apologize, y/n. honestly, i appreciate the thought more than anything else.” he reached for one of the chocolate bars and smiled even wider. “and thank you for these. you got me my favorites.”

you shrugged casually, though the smile on his face made the effort feel worth it.

“of course i did. you know i’ve got your back, james.”

for a moment, he simply stared at you.

the smile on his face faded slightly, replaced by something quieter. “you don’t have to do these things for me,” he said softly. “i mean, at the end of the day, i’m still a monster.”

your expression hardened immediately.

“don’t.”

james blinked.

“seriously, stop saying that.” your voice had become much firmer than before. “it genuinely annoys me every time i hear it. you turn into a giant furball for a few hours once a month. that doesn’t change anything. the most important thing is that you stay the person you are right now. you stay kind, thoughtful, funny, and sweet. that’s what matters to me, and that’s what matters to your friends and family. stop calling yourself that word, james. seriously.”

the silence that followed seemed unusually heavy.

james stared at you in complete shock, clearly not expecting the speech.

only then did you finally notice that he was not the only one looking at you.

slowly, you turned your head.

keonho was sitting right beside you.

you had been so focused on james that you had not even noticed his presence, but now that you did, you almost wished you hadn’t. keonho was staring at you with an expression you had never seen before, his eyes wide and impossibly soft as though he had just witnessed something incredible.

it looked suspiciously similar to the way people stared at shooting stars.

your stomach immediately flipped.

what the hell.

why was he looking at you like that?

more importantly, why was your heart suddenly beating faster?

his eyes somehow looked even bigger than usual, giving him an almost puppy-like appearance, while his lips were slightly parted as he continued staring at you without blinking. there was something so painfully sincere about the look on his face that it made your ears start burning.

he looked…

cute.

your eyes widened.

what the fuck were you thinking?

you immediately shot to your feet so quickly that your leg caught against the bench.

“my love, wait!” keonho shouted.

the entire great hall turned to look.

you did not care.

without another word, you spun around and practically sprinted toward the exit.

“no! leave me alone!” you yelled while running.

behind you came the sound of hurried footsteps.

“just give me one chance, i swear!” keonho shouted while chasing after you through the hall. “i’ll love you like nobody else!”

“stop saying things like that!”

“never!”

students jumped out of the way as the two of you raced through the castle, completely ignoring the dozens of confused looks following your path. several younger students seemed concerned, while a few older ones openly laughed as they watched the familiar spectacle disappear around a corner.

back inside the great hall, james watched the chaos unfold for several seconds before calmly picking up his book again.

a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he opened it. “idiots in love.” he muttered quietly to himself.

despite his words, he looked happier than he had all week.

the next few days passed in a blur of assignments, prefect duties, and constant worrying. although james had insisted countless times that he would be fine, you still found yourself keeping an eye on him whenever possible. thankfully, he was surrounded by people who cared about him just as much as you did. juhoon, martin, seonghyeon, and especially keonho never seemed to leave him alone for long, which at least allowed you to relax a little.

you were on your way to transfiguration one morning when a familiar voice suddenly caught your attention. out of pure instinct, you looked up before your brain even had time to process whose voice it was. the second your eyes landed on keonho, you immediately regretted it.

he was crouched down in the middle of the corridor, speaking to a tiny first year girl who looked like she had been crying. tears still clung to her eyelashes while she nervously twisted the sleeves of her robes, and although you could not hear exactly what they were saying from where you stood, you could tell keonho was trying to comfort her. his voice was soft, his posture relaxed, and his expression was so gentle that it barely even looked like the same annoying idiot who spent half his life chasing after you.

without realizing it, you stopped walking.

your eyes remained fixed on him as you watched the interaction unfold. keonho smiled warmly at the little girl while listening to whatever problem she was explaining, and something about the sight made that strange feeling return to your stomach. it was the same feeling that had appeared in the great hall a few days ago, and it was becoming increasingly difficult to ignore.

his smile looked different when he was talking to younger students.

softer.

warmer.

cuter.

you immediately hated that thought.

before you could stop yourself from staring any longer, two figures suddenly appeared beside you.

“see that, wonwon?” yoonchae asked dramatically. “our little y/n is falling in love.”

the smile that had unknowingly begun forming on your face vanished so quickly it was almost impressive.

you immediately resumed walking.

“i’m not falling in love.” you muttered.

“oh, but your smile said otherwise.” wonhee replied innocently. “honestly, i wish someone smiled at me the way you just smiled when you saw keonho.”

“i wasn’t smiling.”

both girls exchanged a look. it was the kind of look that instantly made you nervous.

“oh, come on, y/n.” yoonchae said. “just admit you’re finally realizing that you like him.”

you stopped walking so abruptly that several students nearly walked into you.

the crowded corridor continued moving around you while your brain completely short-circuited.

then, without warning, you let out a loud scream of frustration, ignoring the way several students seemed startled.

before either of your friends could react, you spun around and sprinted away.

the sound of their laughter echoed through the hallway immediately.

“now the next step is kissing!” wonhee shouted after you.

yoonchae laughed so hard she nearly tripped over her own feet. “after kissing, you have to get married and have children!”

“i don’t like ahn keonho!” you screamed while running.

at this point, half the corridor had stopped to watch.

“that’s what they all say!”

“shut up!”

covering your ears, you somehow managed to run even faster. eventually, salvation appeared in the form of the prefects’ bathroom entrance. without hesitating, you rushed forward, rattled off the password, and slipped inside just before the portrait closed behind you.

silence, finally.

you leaned against the wall for several seconds before beginning to pace.

“what the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck.” you muttered repeatedly.

your hands moved through your hair while you walked circles around the bathroom.

“i like ahn keonho? do i like ahn keonho? am i actually losing my mind? he’s so annoying. he’s literally the most annoying person i’ve ever met. why would i like ahn keonho?”

you continued pacing.

“there are billions of people in the world. why ahn keonho?”

the universe, unfortunately, chose that exact moment to embarrass you further.

one of the bathroom doors suddenly opened.

you froze.

standing there were juhoon, martin, and a very pale looking james.

all four of you stared at each other.

you were breathing heavily with your hands on your hips.

martin looked delighted.

james looked tired.

juhoon looked like he wanted to disappear.

the silence stretched for several painful seconds.

finally, you accepted your fate. “martin.” you said slowly. “why the hell are you even in the prefects bathroom right now? last time i checked, you’re not a freaking prefect.”

martin awkwardly scratched the back of his neck.

“uh…” he glanced between you and the other boys. “i got permission from keonho?”

immediately, your entire posture straightened. “do not speak of that name.”

martin’s eyes lit up. it was the exact expression people got right before making terrible decisions.

“why?” he asked, already grinning. “does little y/n have a little crush on little keonho?”

silence immediately followed after that.

james closed his eyes while juhoon sighed loudly.

martin realized his mistake approximately half a second too late.

a few minutes later, students throughout the castle were treated to the unusual sight of martin sprinting through the corridors for his life while laughing so hard he could barely breathe. behind him, you chased him at full speed with murder in your eyes, loudly threatening his existence while he continued making increasingly ridiculous comments about weddings, romance, and future children.

“i’m going to kill you!”

“i’ll be best man at the wedding!”

“martin!”

martin’s laughter echoed through the castle as he rounded another corner.

at seven in the morning, you pushed open the doors of the hospital wing and stepped inside with tired eyes and aching limbs. after staying awake the entire night, everything felt slightly slower than usual, and your body desperately wanted sleep. despite that, this had become a routine over the years. every month after a full moon, you always found yourself making your way to the hospital wing before doing anything else.

it did not take long to spot james lying in one of the beds near the windows. the morning sunlight spilled across the white sheets surrounding him while his chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm. he was still asleep, thankfully. carefully, you walked over and placed a bottle of chocolate milk onto the bedside drawer, followed by several chocolate bars and a short handwritten letter you had scribbled sometime around four in the morning when sleep had clearly abandoned you.

the sound of footsteps drew your attention toward the entrance. madame pomfrey entered carrying several bottles of potion before immediately noticing your presence. unlike most professors, she did not seem remotely surprised to find you standing beside james’s bed so early in the morning.

“hey, poppy.” you greeted with a tired smile.

“good morning, miss y/n,” she replied warmly. “the boys only left about thirty minutes ago. poor things. they never sleep when james transforms. every month they stay awake all night waiting for him.”

you hummed quietly in response while your eyes remained fixed on james. there were a few fresh scratches visible across his face, but they looked small enough that a handful of healing spells would likely erase them completely. compared to some of the injuries he had come back with in previous years, this was practically nothing.

“well, i brought his milk.” you said softly. “i couldn’t sleep either. i pulled an all nighter, so i’m probably going to collapse the second i get back to my dorm.”

madame pomfrey smiled knowingly.

“well, you’re lucky it’s sunday.”

“very lucky.” you agreed.

for a moment, you simply stood there looking at james. despite everything he endured, despite the pain and exhaustion that always followed a transformation, there was something comforting about seeing him resting peacefully afterward. eventually, you stepped away from the bed and offered madame pomfrey one final smile.

“i’ll see you later, poppy.”

“get some sleep, miss y/n.”

you promised that you would before finally leaving the hospital wing.

outside, however, your plans were immediately interrupted.

sitting patiently near the doorway was a familiar golden retriever.

the second goldie spotted you, his tail began wagging so enthusiastically that his entire body seemed to shake. a happy huff escaped him before he bounded toward you without hesitation.

“goldie!” you laughed.

dropping to your knees, you opened your arms just in time for him to crash directly into them. you wrapped your arms around his neck and hugged him tightly while he buried his face against your shoulder.

“hey there, cutie.” you murmured.

goldie let out a pleased whine.

“wanna come to my room?” you asked sleepily. “i could really use an extra teddy bear right now.”

another whine escaped him.

you rolled your eyes fondly. “i’ll take that as a yes.”

the castle corridors were mostly empty at this hour, which made sneaking back to your dormitory significantly easier. after making sure not to wake either wonhee or yoonchae, you quietly slipped inside and carefully shut the door behind you.

goldie immediately trotted toward your bed as though he owned the place.

you blinked.

“well, somebody has a great memory.”

considering he had not been inside your dormitory since the previous school year, his confidence was surprisingly impressive.

while you changed into your pajamas, goldie climbed onto the mattress and settled himself comfortably among your blankets. you completely missed the way he buried his face into your pillow while you changed.

too exhausted to question anything, you simply climbed into bed beside him.

the second your head touched the pillow, you wrapped your arms around goldie and pulled him against your chest. he settled beside you immediately while you draped the blanket over both of you, creating a warm little cocoon that made leaving bed later seem impossible.

sleep began pulling at you almost instantly. “you know…” you mumbled drowsily.

goldie lifted his head slightly.

“keonho reminds me of you.”

his entire body went still. completely oblivious, you continued speaking.

“it’s weird. you kind of have the same eyes or something. i don’t know, but i dont like it.”

goldie remained silent while you yawned. “it’s honestly really strange.”

your words were beginning to slur together as exhaustion finally caught up with you.

for several moments, neither of you spoke, then the thoughts you had spent weeks trying to avoid finally slipped free.

“i shouldn’t have fallen for keonho.”

beneath your arm, goldie froze.

you did not notice. “i should tell him, though. it’s not fair to him if i don’t.”

your eyes were already drifting closed. “but i’m scared.” the confession came out so quietly that it was almost a whisper.

“what if it was all a joke?”

goldie’s ears twitched.

“what if he never actually liked me all these years and he was only teasing me?”

your voice grew softer. “i know it sounds stupid.”

sleep continued dragging you further away. “i realized something recently. i didn’t start liking him now.”

your fingers absentmindedly threaded through the fur around goldie’s neck.

“i think i’ve always liked him.” the words barely left your lips. “i just didn’t want to become another victim of their stupid pranks or whatever…”

your sentence slowly trailed off.

a few moments later, your breathing became slow and steady as sleep finally claimed you.

silence settled across the dormitory.

goldie remained perfectly still beneath your arm. for a very long time, he simply stared at your sleeping face.

then, very carefully, he moved closer and rested his head against yours.

if dogs could cry, he probably would have.

because after seven years of chasing after you, seven years of rejection, teasing, arguments, and impossible hope, keonho had finally heard the words he had dreamed about for almost half his life.

when you finally woke up again, the room was completely dark.

for several seconds, you simply stared at the ceiling in confusion while trying to remember where you were. your head felt heavy, your limbs felt stiff, and it took an embarrassing amount of time before your brain finally started functioning properly again. slowly lifting your wrist, you checked your watch.

8:34 pm.

you immediately sat upright.

“bloody hell.”

the entire day had disappeared.

goldie was nowhere to be seen, and judging by the empty beds surrounding you, wonhee and yoonchae had left hours ago. after rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you forced yourself out of bed and got ready as quickly as possible despite the headache pounding behind your eyes.

it did not take long before you found yourself walking into the hospital wing.

the moment you entered, you spotted everyone gathered around james’s bed. juhoon, martin, seonghyeon, yoonchae, and wonhee were all scattered around the room while james sat upright against his pillows looking significantly better than he had that morning.

your relief was immediate.

however, you noticed something else almost instantly.

someone was missing.

“hey, where’s keonho?” you asked as you sat down near james’s feet.

the room suddenly became suspiciously quiet.

everyone exchanged looks with each other.

you narrowed your eyes.

“he’s not feeling well,” juhoon finally replied. “he’s back in the dorm.”

you nodded slowly. for some reason, the answer left an uncomfortable feeling sitting in your chest.

“seriously, james.” yoonchae said while crossing her arms. “you need to get this checked out. it’s honestly ridiculous that you get sick every single month.”

wonhee immediately nodded. “she’s right. every single month something happens.”

you leaned back slightly.

a familiar feeling of dread settled over you. you had almost forgotten that neither girl knew the truth.

james visibly stiffened. his fingers tightened around the blanket while his eyes dropped toward his lap. everyone else immediately noticed the tension as well, but nobody spoke.

“it’s nothing,” james said quietly after a moment. “really. don’t worry about me.”

the girls remained silent for a few moments, then wonhee sighed.

“why won’t you tell us?”

james froze.

“what?”

“you heard me.” wonhee replied. “do you really think that after seven years we haven’t noticed something strange?”

the color immediately drained from james’s face. you could practically see the panic settle into his expression.

“wonhee…” he whispered.

“every month you disappear.” yoonchae continued softly. “every month you’re injured, exhausted, or sick afterwards. everyone always avoids talking about it. we’ve noticed for years.”

james stared at them. his breathing became uneven.

for several moments nobody spoke, then suddenly his eyes filled with tears. the sight immediately made your chest ache.

“i didn’t want you to know.” james admitted quietly. his voice cracked. “i didn’t want any of you to know.”

a tear slipped down his cheek before he quickly wiped it away.

“james…” you whispered.

he shook his head. “because what if you looked at me differently?” he asked. “what if you were scared of me?”

another tear followed the first. “i know you all care about me, and that’s exactly why i never wanted to tell you.”

the room remained completely silent.

james lowered his head. “i’m a monster.”

immediately, several people groaned.

“james.”

“not this again.”

“seriously?”

he ignored them. “i am.” he continued quietly. “every month i turn into something horrible. every month you all have to worry about me. you bring me food. you stay awake all night. you look after me when i’m hurt.”

his voice trembled. “and i don’t deserve any of it.”

you immediately stood up.

“james.”

“no, let me finish.”

more tears slipped down his face. “i have the nicest friends anyone could ask for, and i spend half my time wondering why you’re still here.”

that finally broke everyone’s patience.

“because we love you, idiot.” martin said immediately.

james blinked. “what?”

“you’re literally one of the nicest people i’ve ever met.” yoonchae added.

“you helped me study for three straight weeks before my exams.” wonhee said. “do you know how painful that was?”

a small laugh escaped the room.

“you helped me learn how to ride my broom.” seonghyeon added.

“you taught me how to survive potions.” martin said.

“you’ve always been there for everyone.”juhoon said quietly.

james looked completely overwhelmed.

then you stepped closer. “james, listen to me.”

he looked up.

“being a werewolf doesn’t change who you are.”

your voice remained firm. “you’re still james. you’re still kind. you’re still thoughtful. you’re still the same person who gives people chocolate when they’re sad and stays up helping younger students with homework.”

his eyes immediately watered again.

“and if you think we’re going to stop caring about you because of something you can’t control, then you’re honestly an idiot.”

that finally made him laugh.

the tension in the room slowly disappeared. eventually, james relaxed back against his pillows while everyone continued talking around him. although his eyes remained red, he looked lighter somehow.

like he had finally put down a weight he’d been carrying for years.

hours later, madame pomfrey finally reached the end of her patience. “out.” she ordered.

everyone immediately obeyed.

once outside the hospital wing, you all gathered in the corridor.

“you guys go ahead.” you said.

everyone turned toward you.

“this late?” seonghyeon asked.

you nodded. “i have something to do.”

nobody questioned it further. after saying your goodbyes, you headed in the opposite direction.

roughly thirty minutes later, you found yourself climbing the final staircase leading to the astronomy tower.

the night air greeted you immediately.

as soon as you stepped inside, you noticed someone standing near the railing with his back facing you.

you recognized him instantly. the realization alone made your stomach flutter.

for a brief moment, you considered turning around.

wasn’t he supposed to be in his dorm?

then he moved.

keonho turned his head. the second he spotted you, a small smile appeared on his face.

your heart betrayed you immediately.

that stupid smile.

that wonderful smile.

“keep me company?” he asked.

you sighed. despite yourself, your feet carried you toward him. eventually you stopped beside the railing, standing shoulder to shoulder beneath the stars.

“why weren’t you at the hospital wing?” you asked.

keonho shrugged slightly. “i was there for a few hours.” his eyes remained fixed on the sky. “i just needed some time to clear my head.”

you nodded slowly.

silence settled between you. for once, it wasn’t uncomfortable. it was peaceful.

eventually, you looked over at him. that turned out to be a mistake.

the moonlight illuminated his face while he stared upward, and for a moment all you could think about was how unfairly handsome he looked.

your heart skipped.

then he turned toward you.

suddenly, you were both staring at each other.

neither of you looked away.

“will you go to hogsmeade with me on saturday?”

your brain stopped functioning as you stared at him, your ears immediately turning red. unable to handle his gaze, you looked away.

beside you, keonho sighed. the disappointment in his expression was immediate. he clearly thought he was about to be rejected again.

“i mean…” you muttered.

his attention snapped back toward you.

“i guess?”

there was silence for a moment, then keonho’s eyes widened so much they looked ready to fall out.

“what?!” he shouted.

you immediately rolled your eyes. “don’t make it weird.”

then you turned and began walking away.

behind you came hurried footsteps.

“wait!”

you groaned.

“y/n!”

“stop shouting!”

“you said yes!”

“no i didn’t.”

“you said yes!”

before you knew it, you were running through the corridors while keonho chased after you.

the difference this time was impossible to ignore. usually, whenever you ran from him, you were annoyed. usually, you were yelling. usually, you wanted him to leave you alone.

this time, however, none of that was true.

because as you ran through the castle halls with laughter threatening to escape your lips, a smile spread across your face. and for the first time in seven years, you didn’t want him to stop following you.

the next week passed so quickly that it almost felt unreal. after finally admitting to yourself that you liked keonho and somehow agreeing to go to hogsmeade with him, everything seemed to move at twice its normal speed. the moment you told wonhee and yoonchae what had happened, they completely lost their minds. both girls had immediately started screaming, jumping on their beds, and hugging each other as though they had personally achieved world peace, while you sat there laughing so hard your stomach hurt. despite all your embarrassment, seeing how happy they were made you feel strangely warm inside.

what surprised you most, however, was how naturally things seemed to fall into place afterward. you and keonho had always been around each other, but now it felt different somehow. breakfast, lunch, and dinner usually ended with the two of you sitting side by side while talking about absolutely everything and absolutely nothing at the same time. during classes, you somehow always ended up sharing a desk, and when everyone gathered in the common room at night, the two of you naturally gravitated toward the same couch while the others caused chaos around you. it was strange how quickly he had become such a normal part of your daily life.

before you knew it, saturday had finally arrived. instead of enjoying the morning like a normal person, you spent nearly two hours stressing over every possible detail. you changed your clothes multiple times, redid your hair more often than necessary, and spent an embarrassing amount of time staring at yourself in the mirror while questioning every decision you had made. by the time you were finally satisfied enough to leave your dormitory, your nerves were practically eating you alive.

the moment you descended the common room stairs, you immediately spotted keonho waiting near the bottom. he looked just as nervous as you felt, which somehow made you feel slightly better. your eyes immediately drifted over his outfit, and your stomach performed an uncomfortable little flip. he was wearing a pair of loose blue jeans along with a sweater and a black leather jacket, and somehow the combination suited him so perfectly that it almost annoyed you.

then you noticed the flowers.

keonho was holding a bouquet carefully in both hands, and the second he realized you had seen them, his face turned slightly pink. “i know you only like blue things, so…” he began awkwardly. “i used magic to change the color.”

your eyes widened as you looked down at the flowers. they were blue lilies, their petals vibrant beneath the common room lighting. they were beautiful, and somehow the fact that he had remembered your favorite color made them even more special. “thank you,” you murmured softly while accepting them. “they’re beautiful.” immediately, you lifted them closer to your face and pretended to smell them purely to hide how red your cheeks had become.

“give me a second,” you said quickly. “i should probably find a vase before we leave.”

before you could take more than a step, keonho awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck. “they don’t actually need water.” he admitted. “i kind of used magic so they never die.”

for a moment, neither of you spoke.

you stared at him as he stared at the floor. both of your faces somehow became even redder.

“oh.” you finally managed. “that’s… really thoughtful.”

keonho looked like he wanted the ground to swallow him whole.

“thank you, keonho.” you stood there for another second before your brain completely gave up functioning. “just give me a moment.” you blurted out before turning around and sprinting back up the stairs.

a minute later, you burst into your dormitory so dramatically that both wonhee and yoonchae nearly fell off their beds. before either of them could ask what was wrong, you shoved the bouquet directly into their faces.

“guys, look!”

the second they saw the flowers, chaos erupted.

“he got you flowers?!” yoonchae shrieked.

“they’re blue lilies!” wonhee screamed.

“he used magic to dye them!” you practically shouted. “and he enchanted them so they’ll never die!”

the room immediately dissolved into screaming.

all three of you were jumping around within seconds, and if anyone had walked into the dormitory at that exact moment, they probably would have assumed someone had won the lottery.

“okay, i have to go!” you announced suddenly.

carefully placing the bouquet into wonhee’s arms, you pointed at her dramatically. “keep these safe.”

wonhee clutched the flowers against her chest as though they were a newborn child.

satisfied, you immediately ran back downstairs.

keonho was waiting exactly where you had left him. “sorry.” you said, slightly breathless. “we can go now.”

his smile appeared instantly. it was impossible not to smile back. without saying anything else, he held out his hand.

you looked down at it for a moment before slipping your fingers into his. almost immediately, he intertwined them with yours, and neither of you acknowledged the way your faces warmed.

together, you began walking toward the carriages waiting outside.

students stared. a lot.

you both pretended not to notice.

after a while, keonho glanced down at your outfit before letting out a soft laugh. “we’re matching.”

you blinked. looking down at yourself, you finally noticed it.

your outfit was almost identical. you were wearing bootcut jeans paired with a sweater and a leather jacket, and somehow you had both chosen nearly the same colors without discussing it beforehand.

the realization immediately made your face heat up. “that’s cute.” you murmured shyly.

beside you, keonho nodded.

he quickly looked away, clearly trying to hide the pink tint spreading across his cheeks.

hogsmeade with keonho ended up being far more enjoyable than you had expected. despite spending years arguing with him, avoiding him, and occasionally threatening his existence, you found yourself laughing almost nonstop throughout the entire trip. somehow every conversation turned ridiculous within minutes, and every attempt at acting normal lasted approximately thirty seconds before one of you said something stupid. by the time you reached honeydukes, your cheeks already hurt from smiling so much.

the two of you spent nearly an hour wandering through the colorful aisles while examining every sweet imaginable. whenever you picked something up, keonho immediately insisted on buying it for you, and whenever he tried to grab something for himself, you stubbornly insisted on doing the same. eventually you both gave up arguing and simply started throwing random sweets into your baskets while laughing at increasingly ridiculous packaging. by the time you left the shop, you were carrying enough sugar to sustain a small army.

afterward, you decided there was one place in hogsmeade you absolutely had to see for yourself. despite keonho’s immediate protests, you dragged him directly toward madam puddifoot’s tea shop out of pure curiosity. the second you stepped through the door, both of you froze. pink decorations covered nearly every available surface, heart-shaped ornaments hung from the ceiling, and the entire place looked as though someone had attempted to weaponize romance. you stared at the room for several seconds before meeting keonho’s horrified gaze, and the next thing you knew, both of you were laughing so hard that people inside began staring.

keonho immediately grabbed your hand and dragged you back outside before either of you completely lost control. the moment the door closed behind you, your laughter only became worse. neither of you could stop picturing the aggressively romantic decorations, and every time one of you started calming down, the other would mention something from inside and send both of you into another fit of giggles.

eventually, after wandering around the village for a while longer, you settled inside the three broomsticks and ordered butterbeers. the warm atmosphere felt cozy after the chilly autumn air outside, and before long the two of you were comfortably talking while sipping your drinks. at some point you both lifted your mugs at exactly the same moment, taking matching drinks without realizing it.

when you lowered your butterbeer, keonho suddenly started laughing.

you blinked in confusion. “what?”

he pointed toward your face while struggling not to grin. “you have some...”

before you could react, he reached forward and gently wiped the froth from your upper lip.

your face immediately warmed. “you too.”you shot back before quickly doing the exact same thing to him.

for a moment, neither of you spoke.

then your eyes met.

seconds later, both of you dissolved into helpless laughter once again.

hidden several tables away, four familiar idiots were witnessing the entire thing unfold.

“do they do anything besides giggle?” james asked while watching the scene with complete disbelief.

“seriously.” juhoon agreed while shaking his head.

“we’ve got giggle and shits over there.”seonghyeon muttered.

martin immediately burst into loud laughter. all three boys instantly shushed him before he could attract attention.

roughly an hour later, you and keonho finally left the three broomsticks and continued wandering through the village while holding hands. neither of you seemed particularly concerned about where you were going, and eventually your conversation drifted into random topics that had absolutely nothing to do with anything. the comfortable atmosphere between you felt so natural that you almost forgot how impossible this situation would have seemed only a month ago.

then suddenly, you stopped walking.

keonho nearly walked straight into you. “what’s wrong?” he asked.

instead of answering, you simply stared ahead. confused, keonho followed your gaze.

the second he saw what you were looking at, all color immediately drained from his face.

standing in the middle of the street were three animals. a greyhound, a fox, and a turtle sitting on top of the greyhound’s head.

all three were staring directly at you.

you tilted your head slightly. “what an odd little friend group.” you murmured.

beside you, keonho looked moments away from having a nervous breakdown. “yup.”he replied weakly.

his eyes narrowed into a glare directed entirely at the animals. the greyhound glared back.

before the silent battle could continue any longer, the sound of hurried footsteps echoed from nearby. moments later, james appeared beside you looking completely exhausted.

“sorry.” he panted while placing his hands on his knees. “my pets got away from me.”

you blinked. “your pets?”

“yes,” james replied immediately.

his smile looked slightly desperate.

keonho sighed dramatically. “james, i told you to control your stupid freaking pets.”

“i know, i’m sorry.” james straightened before turning toward the animals. “come on, guys.”

the fox immediately obeyed and trotted toward him.

the turtle remained perfectly still on the dog’s head, who refused to move.

keonho’s eye twitched. “move.”

the greyhound barked.

you looked between keonho and the dog awkwardly.

“it’s just a dog, keonho.”

“martin, move your ass!” james shouted from the distance.

immediately, the greyhound began walking away.

you stared after it.

then you slowly turned toward keonho.

“martin?”

keonho froze. “what?”

“why would he name a dog after martin?”

you could tell keonho was panicking because he looked ready to jump off a cliff.

“he just loves martin that much.”

you nodded slowly. “okay.”

awkward silence consumed you two for a little while.

“but why does he have so many random pets?” you continued. “where did he even find them?”

keonho sighed heavily. “forget about it.”

“why?”

“because james has always been weird.”

“fair enough.”

you simply smiled and followed after keonho, completely unaware that you had come dangerously close to uncovering one of the biggest secrets your friends had spent years protecting.

you and keonho wandered through hogsmeade with your fingers intertwined, neither of you paying much attention to where your feet were carrying you. the village had begun to quiet down as evening approached, and the golden light of the setting sun washed over everything around you. shop windows glowed warmly, the cobblestone streets seemed dipped in honey, and the distant hills surrounding the village looked almost magical beneath the fading sunlight.

for a while, neither of you spoke very much. somehow the silence felt comfortable rather than awkward, and every now and then you caught keonho looking at you before immediately glancing away. eventually, you noticed he had become strangely quiet, and before you could ask what was wrong, he suddenly stopped walking altogether.

you barely had time to react before he gently pulled on your hand.

your attention immediately snapped toward him.

the smile that had been resting on his face all day had disappeared, replaced by something much more serious.

for a few moments, neither of you spoke.

then keonho took a deep breath.

“y/n, before anything else, there’s something i’ve wanted to tell you for a very long time.” he said quietly, his voice lacking its usual playful tone. “and i need you to listen to all of it before you interrupt me, because if you interrupt me, i’ll probably lose my nerve and throw myself off a cliff.”

despite your nerves, a laugh escaped you.

keonho smiled briefly before continuing.

“none of this was ever a joke to me.” he said. “not once. not for a single second. i know you’ve spent years thinking i was teasing you or trying to prank you, and honestly, i don’t blame you for thinking that. me, seonghyeon, and martin have the combined maturity of three kneazles fighting over a sock.”

you snorted.

“but i’m serious, y/n. i was always serious.”

the amusement slowly disappeared from your face.

“i never chased after you because i wanted to embarrass you. i never asked you out because i thought it was funny. i never followed you around because i wanted attention. i did all those things because i genuinely liked you, and every year i convinced myself that maybe this would finally be the year you’d give me a chance.”

his grip on your hand tightened slightly.

“you know what the funny part is? i don’t even remember exactly when i fell in love with you because it happened so quickly. i remember seeing you for the first time on platform nine and three quarters during first year, and i remember thinking you looked really pretty. then we got sorted into the same house, and i spent the entire first month trying to find excuses to talk to you.”

a small smile appeared on his face.

“you insulted me within ten minutes.”

“to be fair, you deserved it.” you muttered.

“i absolutely deserved it,” keonho agreed.

his smile softened.

“but then i got to know you, and somehow that only made things worse. every year i liked you more. every year i noticed new things about you. i noticed how you always helped younger students when they were struggling, even when nobody asked you to. i noticed how you remembered everyone’s favorite snacks. i noticed how you always worried about james even when he pretended he was fine.”

his eyes never left yours. “i noticed everything.”

your throat tightened.

“i noticed how much you cared about people. i noticed how brave you were. i noticed how smart you were. i noticed how you always acted tough even when you were scared. and somewhere along the way, i stopped having a crush on you and just completely fell in love with you.”

you felt your eyes beginning to sting.

keonho swallowed nervously. “there were times when i thought about giving up,” he admitted. “especially after getting rejected for the hundredth time. every year i told myself i’d stop bothering you. every year i lasted about five minutes before deciding i was an idiot and trying again.”

a laugh escaped you through the tears threatening to form. “i know.”

“the thing is, even if you’d never liked me back, i still would’ve wanted you in my life. because you’re my favorite person, y/n.”

his voice became quieter. “and now somehow you’ve given me a chance.” his eyes shimmered slightly beneath the golden sunlight. “do you have any idea how happy that makes me?”

by now, your vision had become blurry.

keonho laughed softly. “i genuinely feel like the luckiest man alive right now. every morning i wake up and remember that you actually agreed to go out with me, and then i spend ten minutes wondering if i dreamed the whole thing.”

you laughed through your tears.

“you’re an idiot.”

“i know.” he smiled at you.

“but i’m your idiot.”

a tear slipped down your cheek.

keonho’s expression immediately softened. slowly, he lifted a hand and gently rested his palm against your face.

you leaned into the touch without thinking.

“thank you for giving me a chance.” he whispered.

then he leaned forward, and kissed you.

the world seemed to disappear.

the golden sky.

the village.

the distant sounds of people talking.

all of it faded away.

the only thing you could focus on was him. you kissed him back beneath the sunset, smiling against his lips while your heart felt far too big for your chest.

eventually, keonho pulled away.

for a few moments, he simply stared at you with so much adoration that it almost made you look away.

then, strangely, he began looking nervous.

suspiciously nervous.

“now that i’m sure you actually like me.” he said carefully, “can i show you something?”

you immediately narrowed your eyes. “depends.”

keonho swallowed. “on what?”

“on what you’re showing me.”

he looked away, which made you even more suspicious. “keonho.”

he sighed dramatically. “just close your eyes.”

you stared at him for several seconds before pointing at him.

“if this is something stupid, i’m pushing you off the astronomy tower next time we visit.”

“that’s fair.”

reluctantly, you closed your eyes. for several moments, there was only silence.

then you heard a bark.

your eyes immediately opened. sitting directly in front of you was a familiar golden retriever. beside him sat a pile of clothes.

your brain stopped working.

you looked at the dog.

then the clothes.

your eyes widened. “…keonho?”

goldie nodded.

you closed your eyes, pinched the bridge of your nose, and took a very deep breath.

“ahn keonho.”

the golden retriever visibly flinched.

“you better pray to godric that you’re a fast runner.”

goldie let out the most pathetic whimper imaginable, then he turned around and bolted.

immediately, you chased after him, cursing like a madwoman while keonho slash goldie.

“AHN KEONHO!”

the dog somehow ran even faster.

for several minutes you chased him across hogsmeade while cursing at him with increasing creativity. unfortunately, goldie happened to have four legs and the athletic ability of an escaped racehorse, which made catching him nearly impossible.

then suddenly, inspiration struck.

you stopped running, and goldie stopped too.

confused, he turned around. you smiled, but  not a comforting smile.

immediately, you sprinted back toward the place where he had transformed.

goldie’s eyes widened.

sitting exactly where he had left them was the pile of clothing. you scooped everything into your arms.

horror slowly spread across the dog’s face.

“have fun getting back into the castle unnoticed, you piece of shit!” you shouted.

goldie let out a sound that was suspiciously close to human panic, then he started sprinting toward you.

you immediately screamed, and ran for your life.

the entire walk back to hogwarts consisted of one girl running away while carrying a very important pile of clothes, and one very desperate golden retriever chasing after her while desperately trying to preserve what little dignity he had left.

unfortunately for keonho, he had made the catastrophic mistake of revealing himself.

and now he was going to suffer for it.

TAGLIST @gentlemonstersworld @lminxx @justsofisdiary @beakjiwooo @anglheartz @forestsquirrel @pxronbeat1 @ri-eveowe @futuristicxie @seonghwaswifeuuuu @coerareyou @inadazeee @blossomxie @ilovegojosatoru13 @hyeonverse @exclusiverinaa @coerluvvx @bananabanban @cvntycapricornxx @delirioastral @hyuneskkami

sleeping in the dorms had become a luxury you could barely afford, because by the time you walked all the way back, showered, and finally crawled into bed, you would only get a few miserable hours before your alarm dragged you back out again. 

everyone had warned you about sleeping somewhere else in the building, saying it was unsafe and that staff would eventually catch you, but after discovering an abandoned floor that nobody seemed to use anymore, you had quietly claimed one of the old benches as your own. it was far from comfortable, but at least it let you steal another hour or two of sleep.

your body felt so heavy one night that it almost seemed impossible to stay upright. you leaned against the wall beside the elevator, blinking slowly as your vision threatened to blur, your head dipping forward before you caught yourself at the last second. 

your knees nearly buckled when you stumbled backwards, and you let out a quiet sigh before lightly patting your cheeks a few times, hoping the sting would be enough to wake you up. it barely helped, your eyelids still refusing to cooperate as you waited for the elevator with the patience of someone who was simply too exhausted to be annoyed anymore.

when the familiar ding echoed through the hallway, you lazily pushed yourself off the wall and took a step forward. the doors slid open, and before your foot could cross the entrance, you finally looked up.

everything seemed to freeze.

standing inside the elevator was the prettiest boy you had ever seen in your life. he was so tall that he almost looked out of place in the small space, dressed in an oversized black t shirt that hung loosely over a pair of baggy grey sweatpants. his brown hair fell naturally over his forehead, slightly messy in a way that somehow looked effortless, and even from where you stood, it looked impossibly soft. he looked just as tired as you did, dark circles faint beneath his eyes, yet somehow it only made him look even more unreal.

for a second, neither of you moved.

his eyes widened ever so slightly after realizing someone was waiting outside, and after what felt like an eternity, he quickly bowed his head in greeting. instinctively, you returned the bow, mumbling a quiet hello that was so soft you were not even sure he heard it. he stepped out of the elevator while you stepped inside, your shoulders almost brushing as you passed each other, and the faint scent of fresh laundry lingered in the air for just a moment before disappearing completely.

your fingers hesitated over the buttons before pressing your floor, and as the doors slowly began to close, your eyes drifted back toward him without thinking. he walked down the hallway with an unhurried pace before disappearing into the nearly empty cafeteria, not looking back even once.

the doors shut.

you immediately let out an awkward cough, your face growing warmer as you rubbed the back of your neck.

seriously?

you were a hybe trainee. every second of your life revolved around evaluations, monthly rankings, vocal lessons, dance practice, and trying to survive another day without falling apart. you barely had enough time to eat properly, let alone waste your energy thinking about some random boy you had seen for less than thirty seconds.

you quietly clicked your tongue at yourself, shaking your head as if that would somehow force the image out of it.

it didn’t work.

by the time the elevator reached your floor, his face was still sitting comfortably in the back of your mind.

you wandered through the silent hallway you had memorized weeks ago, turning corners without even needing to think until you reached your little hiding spot. nobody ever came here anymore. the lights were dimmer than the rest of the building, the air was cooler, and the only sounds came from the faint hum of the ventilation system overhead. it was strangely peaceful, almost enough to let you forget that you were still inside the company building.

with a tired sigh, you pulled your thick hoodie over your head and tossed it onto the bench before folding it into a rough pillow. now left in only your tank top, the cool air immediately brushed against your skin, but you were far too exhausted to care. you climbed onto the bench, curled onto your side, and rested your head against the bundled fabric, adjusting it a few times until it felt comfortable enough.

you stared quietly at the long hallway.

normally, these were the moments when your mind refused to rest. you would replay choreography in your head, remind yourself which notes you kept missing during vocal practice, or mentally list everything you needed to improve before the next monthly evaluation. you were always thinking about how to become better, because everyone around you was improving just as quickly, and falling behind was never an option.

this time, though, none of those thoughts came. instead, all you could picture was the sleepy looking boy standing inside that elevator, awkwardly bowing with messy brown hair and the softest eyes you had ever seen.

you shut your eyes with an embarrassed groan. this was going to be a problem.

when you woke up at five in the morning, it took a few long moments for your surroundings to make sense. your eyes slowly adjusted to the dim lighting above you, and for a second you almost panicked, wondering why your bed felt so much harder than usual, before your memories caught up with you. 

with a sleepy sigh, you rubbed your eyes and stretched until your shoulders cracked, your muscles protesting after another night spent sleeping in an awkward position.

you sat up and knelt beside your backpack, quietly unzipping it before folding your hoodie as neatly as you could and stuffing it back inside. while digging through your things, you realized you were quickly running out of everything clean. there were only a few pieces of clothing left, and you were down to your last pair of underwear. you really needed to go back to the dorms soon, even if it meant sacrificing a little sleep, because you honestly missed taking proper showers. the showers inside the hybe building technically worked, but the water was always freezing, and after weeks of putting up with it, you were beginning to forget what warm water even felt like.

you slipped into one of the nearby bathrooms while the hallways were still empty, changing into a fresh outfit after taking a quick shower. you carefully avoided getting your hair wet, knowing you did not have the time to dry it before practice, then brushed your teeth while staring absentmindedly at your reflection. the dark circles beneath your eyes seemed a little darker every morning, but there was nothing you could do about them. 

once you finished, you wrapped your toothbrush in a piece of aluminum foil before stuffing it back into your bag with the rest of your things, making sure everything fit before slinging the backpack over your shoulder.

before leaving, you wandered back toward your little corner to make sure you had not forgotten anything. your steps slowed the moment you noticed something resting on the bench. 

a small carton of chocolate milk sat neatly against one of the metal legs.

you blinked at it.

you absolutely loved chocolate milk.

your eyes immediately darted around the empty hallway, trying to spot anyone hiding nearby, but there was nobody there. had it been sitting there the whole time and you somehow missed it yesterday? that seemed impossible. was somebody leaving it there for you? if they were, how did they even know you slept here? or worse, was someone trying to poison you for some weird reason?

far too many questions flooded your already sleep deprived brain, but after one final glance around the hallway confirmed that you were completely alone, your curiosity won. you crouched down, picked up the carton, and inspected it from every angle. it was completely sealed, untouched, and well within the expiration date.

“…free chocolate milk is free chocolate milk,” you quietly mumbled to yourself before slipping it into your hand and heading toward the elevators.

you pressed the button and waited while peeling the paper straw off the back of the carton. after lining it up with the tiny silver opening, you pushed but nothing happened.

you frowned and pushed harder until the paper straw bent in half. “these fucking paper straws…” you muttered under your breath, trying to straighten it again as it only seemed determined to fold even more with every attempt.

you were so focused on your battle against the straw that you completely missed the elevator arriving.

it was only when someone quietly cleared his throat that your head shot up.

your heart immediately skipped.

it was him. the same boy from yesterday stood inside the elevator, one hand tucked inside the pocket of his grey sweatpants as he watched you with an expression that looked somewhere between amused and awkward.

your eyes widened. “oh… sorry,” you quickly said, bowing your head before hurrying inside. you stepped beside him and pressed your floor, suddenly becoming very interested in the glowing buttons instead of looking anywhere near him.

silence settled between the two of you almost immediately. you tightened your grip around the chocolate milk, painfully aware of how close he was standing beside you. you could practically hear the elevator humming as it climbed, and for some reason, every passing second only made the quiet feel heavier.

then, completely out of nowhere, he spoke. “i’m martin.” his voice was soft enough to almost blend into the sound of the elevator.

you looked up at him, slightly caught off guard by the sudden introduction, before giving him a small smile. “i’m—”

“y/n,” he interrupted so naturally that it took your brain a second to process it. “i know. i’ve noticed you around before.”

he smiled, and your entire body immediately betrayed you.

heat rushed straight into your ears before spreading across the back of your neck and up to your cheeks, and you could practically feel your face turning bright red in real time. you instinctively looked away, suddenly finding the elevator floor incredibly fascinating, but the tiny laugh that escaped him made it painfully obvious that he had noticed anyway.

martin glanced down at the chocolate milk still trapped in your hands before looking at the bent paper straw sticking awkwardly out between your fingers. the corners of his mouth lifted even higher.

“here,” he quietly said, holding out his hand. “let me help.”

you hesitated for half a second before handing it over.

his fingers brushed yours as he took the carton, and your heart immediately decided to embarrass you even further by beating so loudly that you were convinced he could probably hear it. he accepted the paper straw with his other hand, then frowned at the already folded end.

he stuck his tongue out ever so slightly while concentrating, carefully straightening the straw before lining it up with the opening. after another careful push, the straw finally pierced through.

his face instantly brightened with the smallest, most satisfied grin, almost as though he had just accomplished something much bigger than opening a drink.

you had been staring the entire time, starstruck.

he turned back toward you and held the chocolate milk out. “there.”

you quickly accepted it with both hands, bowing your head. “thank you.” you awkwardly smiled.

“it’s nothing,” he replied so casually that it somehow made your heart flutter even more.

before either of you could say anything else, the elevator chimed.

the doors slid open. martin stepped out first, giving you one last smile before walking away down the hallway at his usual relaxed pace. you remained exactly where you were, still clutching the chocolate milk with both hands as you watched him disappear farther and farther away, only finally looking away once the elevator doors quietly slid shut between you.

that night, you finally forced yourself to go back to your trainee dorm instead of heading toward your usual corner on the abandoned floor. as comforting as that old bench had become, you desperately needed clean clothes, and even more than that, you missed being able to wash yourself without freezing.

 the moment you stepped into the dorm, you dropped your backpack onto the floor and headed straight for the shower, letting the warm water run over your tired body for far longer than you probably should have. every sore muscle seemed to relax a little beneath the heat, and for the first time in what felt like forever, you did not have to rush through it just to avoid shivering. 

after changing into fresh clothes and repacking your bag for the next day, you collapsed into bed, but by the time you had finished getting everything ready, there were barely three hours left before your alarm rang again.

the sound pulled you awake far sooner than your body was prepared for. your eyes burned from exhaustion as you slowly dragged yourself out of bed, rubbing at your face while trying to convince yourself to stay awake. somehow, after washing up and getting dressed, you managed to make yourself look slightly more alive than you actually felt, although the dark circles under your eyes probably gave you away anyway. with your backpack slung over one shoulder, you quietly left the dorm and made your way back toward the hybe building, mentally preparing yourself for another endless day of training.

the lobby was still relatively quiet when you walked through the entrance, only a handful of trainees scattered around while waiting for practice to begin. you were too busy adjusting the strap of your bag to notice much else at first, but the moment your eyes lifted, they landed on a familiar figure sitting on one of the chairs beside the entrance.

martin, who looked up almost at the exact same time.

the second your eyes met, a smile immediately spread across his face.

before you could even process what was happening, he stood up and walked straight toward you with his hands tucked inside the pockets of his hoodie, somehow looking just as relaxed as always despite the early hour.

“good morning,” he said, smiling down at you with that same gentle expression that somehow managed to make your stomach flutter every single time.

before you could respond, he held out a carton of chocolate milk.

your eyes widened slightly before you accepted it with both hands, unable to stop the warmth spreading across your cheeks.

“good morning, martin,” you replied with a small smile of your own, glancing down at the familiar carton before looking back up at him. “thank you. this is my favorite.”

a quiet laugh escaped him. “i know.” he said.

you blinked, confused.

“it’s all you ever get.”

for a second, you simply stared at him. “you noticed?” you asked before you could stop yourself.

martin nodded so naturally that it almost made the answer seem obvious. “yeah,” he replied. “i told you i’ve noticed you around before.”

he said it so casually, as though it was the most normal thing in the world, but the words echoed inside your head far louder than they probably should have. before you could think of anything to say back, he gave you one last smile, lifted a hand in a small wave, and turned to head deeper into the building.

once again, you found yourself watching him walk away.

your fingers tightened slightly around the cold carton of chocolate milk as your eyes followed him until he disappeared around the corner, and only then did you finally remember that you were supposed to be heading to practice too.

for some reason, despite only sleeping three hours, you suddenly did not feel quite as tired anymore.

the days that followed somehow became the easiest they had been since you joined hybe. your schedule was still exhausting, your muscles still ached every night, and you were still surviving on far less sleep than any normal person should, but somewhere between vocal practice, dance rehearsals, and rushing through hallways with your backpack slung over one shoulder, martin had quietly become part of your routine. the awkward silences from the elevator had slowly turned into conversations that lasted until one of you had to run off to another lesson, and before either of you realized it, calling each other friends had become the most natural thing in the world.

through martin, you also met the boys he shared a dorm with. james was quiet but funny once he got comfortable, juhoon was surprisingly easy to talk to, seonghyeon, although shy at first, had an easygoing personality that made conversations flow without much effort, and keonho somehow managed to make even the most ordinary moments entertaining. 

they welcomed you without hesitation, treating you as though you had always been part of the group, and after spending enough time around them, you learned something that made your heart swell with excitement for all of them.

there was about a sixty percent chance that the five of them would be debuting soon. everyone seemed almost certain that if it happened, martin would end up becoming the leader.

honestly, you could understand why.

he was patient without trying to be, calm even when everyone else was stressed, and somehow always noticed when someone around him looked exhausted before they ever admitted it themselves. if anyone deserved that position, it was him.

despite spending more and more time together, one little mystery never changed.

every single night, without fail, another carton of chocolate milk would be waiting beside the metal leg of your bench.

you had started developing a very strong suspicion about who was leaving them there, especially after martin had somehow known your favorite drink without you ever telling him, but every time you considered asking him, you immediately talked yourself out of it. 

if you were wrong, you would probably end up embarrassing yourself so badly that you would never recover, and if you were right… honestly you were not even sure what you would do then.

one night, after finishing another painfully cold shower in the building’s bathroom, you stepped back into the hallway while drying your hands on a towel. only a few minutes earlier, you had been talking to martin during the elevator ride, laughing about something james had done earlier that day before he got off on a different floor. you were about to head back toward your little corner when you suddenly heard quiet footsteps echoing down the hallway.

without really thinking, you slipped behind the wall beside the bathroom entrance and carefully peeked around the corner.

your breath caught.

it was martin.

you could only see his back as he slowly approached your bench, glancing around the empty hallway for a brief moment before reaching into the pocket of his sweatpants. he pulled something out, bent down slightly, and placed it carefully beside the familiar metal leg before taking one more quick look around to make sure nobody had seen him before he turned around and walked away.

you stayed frozen behind the wall until he disappeared completely. the second he was out of sight, you practically ran toward the bench.

your heart was pounding so loudly that it almost drowned out the sound of your own footsteps.

there it was. another carton of chocolate milk. except this time, something small was taped neatly to the front.

a folded note.

with slightly shaky fingers, you peeled it off and unfolded the paper.

i like you :)

you simply stared.

your face grew hotter by the second until you were certain it had turned bright red, and no matter how many times you reread the five tiny words, they refused to change into anything else. somehow, martin, the boy who had unknowingly occupied your thoughts since the moment those elevator doors first opened, had been secretly leaving you chocolate milk every single night.

because he liked you.

a smile slowly spread across your face before you could stop it.

carefully, as though it was the most valuable thing you owned, you folded the note back along its original crease and slipped it inside your phone case, making sure it sat securely behind the clear plastic. there was no way you were risking losing something like that.

only after checking that it was safely tucked away did you pick up the chocolate milk, push the straw through the top on your first try for once, and finish the entire carton in only a few minutes, unable to stop smiling to yourself the whole time.

the next morning, you walked into the cafeteria much earlier than usual, hoping that if you got this over with quickly, you would spend the rest of the day without constantly thinking about the folded note tucked safely inside your phone case. unfortunately, the second you stepped through the entrance, your eyes immediately landed on the exact people you had been trying to mentally prepare yourself for.

martin was sitting at one of the tables with james, juhoon, seonghyeon, and keonho, quietly eating breakfast while the others argued over something completely ridiculous. you could hear keonho laughing from the other side of the room, keonho already looking like he was about to start another debate over absolutely nothing, while james and juhoon seemed more interested in their food than whatever was happening around them.

before you could lose your nerve, you forced your feet to keep moving. the conversation at the table slowly died down as you approached.

martin looked up first.

the moment he saw you, his face softened into that familiar smile you had somehow become embarrassingly attached to over the past week. he instinctively shifted over slightly, silently expecting you to sit beside him like you had been doing almost every morning lately.

instead, you stopped beside the table. “can we talk?” you asked.

the words came out much quieter than you had intended, which made the entire table freeze.

keonho looked between the two of you with immediate interest.

martin, meanwhile, simply smiled. “sure.” he nodded his head. he stood up without hesitation, brushing the crumbs from his sweatpants before following you away from the table.

you both walked several steps across the cafeteria until you were far enough away that nobody else should have been able to hear you.

martin stopped beside you and looked down with the same calm expression he always wore whenever you seemed nervous.

“is something wrong?” he asked, a faint crease appearing between his brows as concern slowly replaced the smile on his face.

the confidence you had spent your entire walk building immediately disappeared.

every sentence you had rehearsed during the morning vanished from your head all at once.

your palms suddenly felt sweaty.

your heart was beating so hard it almost hurt.

this had been a terrible idea.

you swallowed hard before nervously biting the inside of your cheek, desperately trying to think of literally anything to say.

“you… uh…” your voice faded. without meaning to, your eyes drifted back toward the table.

every single one of them was watching.

none of them were even pretending not to.

seonghyeon had leaned so far forward that he was practically halfway out of his chair. keonho looked seconds away from climbing onto the table if it meant hearing the conversation better. even juhoon and james, who were at least attempting to look casual, were very obviously listening.

absolutely not. there was no way you were confessing anything with an audience.

you looked back up at martin who was still waiting patiently, still looking at you with those soft eyes that somehow only ever seemed to appear whenever he looked your way.

you awkwardly cleared your throat. “…you should pull your pants up.”

silence.

martin’s eyes widened. almost instinctively, he glanced down at himself.

his oversized sweatpants had slipped lower than he apparently realized.

behind him, you heard a loud choking sound. keonho had chocked on his drink.

james immediately pressed his lips together so tightly they were practically disappearing, while juhoon suddenly became deeply fascinated by the cafeteria floor. seonghyeon rubbed a hand over his face, clearly trying not to laugh.

martin’s ears slowly turned pink. “…oh.”

he awkwardly hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his sweatpants and pulled them up slightly, looking just embarrassed enough to make you realize how unbelievably awkward this entire situation had become.

your face immediately matched his.

what were you doing?

you had walked him all the way over here. after finding out he liked you. after planning to talk about the note.

just to tell him…

to pull his pants up.

The Great Hall was crowded with students peering and hovering over the Slytherin table, and loud chattering erupted from a singular table in the grand room. You maneuvered your way to the farthest table from Slytherin to join your friend Keonho, who was eating to his heart's content.

As usual, your ignorance of the world in gossip in Hogwarts was deemed useless in your natural curiosity, so before you could even eat the conjured dinner in front of you, you turned to Keonho with a frown.

"What's up with the slytherins?" You asked him, "I'm pretty sure they won yesterday at Quidditch, but even that sort of stuff doesn't get them this worked up about it," you said while Keonho swallowed his mashed potatoes and slices of pork.

"Well, it's James," he answered you with a shrug, "He found a way to get his kiss cam invention to work and somehow got it approved by the headmaster himself," Keonho explained as he fed himself a mouthful of porkchops.

You nodded as you slowly ate your potato salad with beef, contemplating whether or not the Hogwarts Times would even think of you as a candidate to cover this story.

You didn't want to give the fantasy much delusion because, considering your numerous absences in meetings and countless late submissions of your articles, there was no way in hell you would be even considered a page this semester.

You couldn't blame yourself anyway, it was your final year in Hogwarts, and not only had you noticed how many grades you needed to make up for from the previous year, but also how unprepared you were for your N.E.W.T.S. So, naturally, like an avalanche, you were bombarded from everything school-related.

You finished dinner, left the Great Hall, entered the Hufflepuff dormitory, and finally sprawled on your mattress dressed in your pyjamas from a tiring day. Your face was planted directly onto your pillow, and you haven't got a care for the world if someone were to walk in on you in a starfish position on your bed.

"Y/N!"

You dreaded that screech.

Not your name, but rather the voice behind the screech.

You sat up lazily with an annoyed groan to confront your roommate/boss.

Manon was an assistant to the sports category and head of the editorial articles published in the Hogwarts Times. She was your longtime best friend and your official boss.

It didn't help that when two years ago you had agreed to finally file an application form under her department out of the kindness of your heart and out of a passion for writing. Only to be then bitten on your ass for having to face the consequences of overestimating your capacity to juggle your schoolwork.

"Manon, hello," you greeted her, straightening out your tank top, fighting sleep from seeping into your tone. You rub your eyes as she stands in front of you, still wearing her uniform and robes, with a face stern enough to scare you.

But you were exhausted, too exhausted to feign any concern on your face, in contrast to the exasperation on hers.

"Do you know how many meetings you've-"

"Yes,"

"And what do you plan on doing when you're basically on the edge of being kicked out?"

That statement ripped the exhaustion out of your body with alarm, "WHAT?" you shouted, voice echoing in the dorm. Manon puts her hands on her hips with a frown, "Y/N, you've worked your ass off in the last two years to get assistant executive for editorial, and now you're too busy to even proofread articles, meanwhile, Yoonchae, the 5th year, is doing the heavy-lifting for you!" she exclaimed with great distress.

You stood up and raked your fingers through your hair, "Well... well, what should I do? I mean, surely, you don't expect me to just write articles that I've missed-" you explained before Manon clicked her tongue while shaking her head,

"Girl, you need to attend the meetings and help us lay out the proofreading- you need to be active!" she insisted impatiently as your shoulders slouched with dismay. "You know that's going to be tough, I have a lot to catch up on this year, and it's only the first semester," you replied in defeat.

There was a moment of silence in the room before Manon hummed thoughtfully as she folded her arms. You observed her practically form a thought as she looked at you with a newfound expression of relief. "What, what is it?" you said desperately.

Manon smiled at you brightly, "Well, there is one thing," she mentioned, pointing her manicured finger towards you, "Do you know of James Chao?" she asked with a hint of mischievous intent. You nod slowly, "We're partners for the history paper, why?" you answered before the memory of the recent kiss cam information resurfaced in your mind.

You shook your head as you sat back down on your bed in defeat, "If this is about the kiss cam, then that's impossible, that guy has a social intelligence of a rigid ghost, and the only thing we've ever conversed about is how bad our professor is and how ingredients work with different combinations- I'm not exactly friends with him!" you argued while Manon flipped her braids to one side of her shoulder defiantly,

"Oh, so I guess I have to strip your title away and give it to-"

You groaned, "Fine!"

Manon's distress seemed to have dissipated from her expression, now her face sporting her usual smile, "Okay, now, we should discuss new articles to write tomorrow in the History of Magic classroom after dinner, 6:30 P.M.," she instructed you before you lazily sent her a nod.

And with that, Manon left the dorm, and you happily flopped back on your mattress to start strategizing on how to get an interview with the most popular boy on-campus right now.

Your relationship with James isn't quite something you would call completely professional. You were basically two mice running the same race; everyone knew how much intelligence you held, and everyone had the same notion about James. However, the difference was that while he was feared, you were celebrated and held on a pedestal, with people wanting to befriend you rather than steer clear of you.

And because of that, the both of you fell into an unspoken rivalry. Throughout the years in Hogwarts, he'd egg you on about potions while you bragged about how good you were at charms. But you knew better than to fall into his traps of misery, you joined every extracurricular activity you could, and at one point before joining the Hogwarts Times, you were a seeker in your fourth year.

Generally, you were better than him. But everyone is too scared of him to compare the two of you.

Yes, you have talked to him about how bad your professors are, but that wasn't all. The truth was, stress seeped in ways you didn't expect. At its peak, you were impulsive, joking around, and agreeing to drink while studying with James in the library.

Throughout the course of studying arithmancy formulas, James' voice as he explained the things you needed to improve on started to sound more and more enticing.

One thing led to the other, and you were lucky enough to quietly thank James for his knowledge on silencing charms and how empty the library was at the time.

One would think that sort of situation would inevitably break your rivalry and transform it into something else; however, nothing changed. The teasing and the competitive environment stayed the same, and you didn't dare question it. It was why you liked James, how consistent he was with everything.

It had only happened once, and you declared it was the alcohol getting the better of you.

You didn't expect James to address it anyway, as much of a good student as he was; there were reasons why he was put in Slytherin in the first place.

You hate speaking or thinking badly about people, especially those you didn't even know. However, James was, and has been, a product of spoiled parenting; every homework and study session was his idea and therefore planned around his free time.

"We need to work on that damned paper tonight." He demanded sourly as the professor left upon the bell ringing. You scuffle to catch up with him in the crowded hallway as he stiffly pushes past the people trying to talk to him on the way.

The halls of Hogwarts were large enough to handle numerous people passing through at once, though, for some odd reason, once James had stepped out of the classroom the whole hallway had seemed to shrink in size as people continuously crowded over him.

"Sorry!" You squealed as he roughly shoved a fellow Hufflepuff away from his path, "You really need to take a moment and calm down, you know?!" you scolded him shamelessly as you trailed after him to the courtyard, "I can't calm down, I need to catch up or else I'm going to flunk History of Magic, HISTORY, out of all subjects!" he explained drastically as he set down his things by one of the pillars and leaned against it.

"Well, technically, we wouldn't have this problem," you mentioned irritably, running your fingers through your hair. "Oh, you're proposing, it's my fault?" he accused with narrowed eyes, his jaw clenching. You let out a scoff with a righteous nod,

"If only you hadn't ditched our research schedule so much for your kiss cam, we wouldn't have this problem," you told him blatantly, his usually rigid, expressionless face contorted into something like rage, and his ears were turning red. "And no, I can't come later, I have a meeting with the other members of the Hogwarts Times," you added spitefully before he raised a brow,

"That's new, I thought you would've quit by now," he teased maliciously before you shoved him annoyedly, "No, I'm not a quitter, besides I need to make up for the stuff I've missed," you murmured, avoiding his gaze.

James rolled his eyes, "Oh, Merlin, fine. I'll stop by the classroom later so that we can get the paper done by tomorrow," he told you before you pursed your lips hesitantly, "Are you sure-"

The worry on your face seemed to annoy James further as he huffed tiredly with a nod, "Yes, yes! I'm sure I'll even outline this afternoon so that I can get a head start on it," he proposed casually as you frowned, "James, I swear if you do everything by yourself like what you did with potions last year I'm going to-"

He tried to contain his laughter, bubbling out giggles here and there, "You're going to what?" he taunted, leaning towards you with a cocky expression, "You're too kind for that nonsense, Y/N, surely you know not to threaten me," he mentioned with a shit-eating grin that made you furiously red in the face.

"I'm leaving," you hissed before turning around and walking the other way, hearing his snickering from afar and trying to ignore the way your mind repeatedly pictured how his face was close to you earlier.

The meeting had only lasted for only 30 minutes.

30 minutes of the agonizing stares from the rest of the editorial department were sent your way.

30 minutes of having to endure the side comments of other members' setbacks in writing that you've contributed to their workload.

However, you were given one task for the week, and that was to bag an official interview with James Chao about his infamous kiss cam. On most days, you would be burdened with such a time-consuming, possibly dignity-draining task because you know that James wasn't a yes man.

But, for some reason, you were particularly ecstatic about this new opportunity. It was a reason to show off your persuasive skills and journaling prowess to everyone who ever doubted you in that organization. And what better way to prove it than to follow through with an almost impossible task?

You left the classroom with your chin held high and your determination set to the clouds, your mind already scouring for ways to get James to say yes, to you.

Your emotions remained at that specific height until you reached the end of the hallway on your way back to the dorms. It was a hand that snatched your collar from the back, then the familiar rhythm of a tongue clicking.

"Where do you think you're going?" his voice rang out softly, dragging you in place beside him against the wall.

James had removed his sweater vest, leaving his white button-up and Slytherin tie on proud display. His sleeves were rolled up to his forearms, and his blonde hair was now tousled, compared to his sleek or sometimes spiky look during the day.

You looked up at him, determination melting in defeat as you met with his cunning gaze, "I was on my way to find you..." you explained meekly before he nodded, unconvinced, grasp loosening on your collar, tracing your arm downwards to grab you by the hand as you let yourself be led to the library.

The library was a home for knowledge, for you; it was a sanctuary of peace and quiet that no one could disturb (unless Keonho and Manon decided to barge in with you to study). It was also where you got to see that there were more sides to James than just the spoilt international student who was as rude as he was intelligent.

James sat down beside you on a table where the rest of his things sat, a quill pen that had refillable ink, three books stacked on top of each other, and a sufficient amount of parchment to write your paper on the wizarding wars.

"James-"

"So, I've decided to split the whole thing into two parts, since I already outlined and made some key notes for which book you should refer to for our paper. I'll take the conclusion bit, and I'll help you with the introduction, which means it'll leave you with the body," he instructed, voice direct and monotone as he handed you your share of the paper, ignorant of the part where he had interrupted you.

You huffed quietly as you took your quill and ink from your bag before setting your bag down on the chair beside you. You settled into your seat comfortably before you turned to look at James, already writing away at ease on the paper.

"James," your heart was already hammering at the thought of having to ask a favor from him.

"Hm?" he hummed in response, eyebrows knitting at the intrusion of his thoughts as his wrist continued to move with his hold on his quill.

Moments passed, and you were starting to look like an idiot as you waited for him to set the quill down and stop writing.

"Can you put the fucking quill down and listen to me?" You murmured spitefully as he frowned, slowly glancing at you in surprise. You watch him set down his quill and turn himself to face you on his seat,

You cleared your throat, "James, I need to get an interview with you about your kiss cam, and I know you don't take favors, but I really need to catch up to my org," you explained directly, trying to stand your ground despite James eyeing you with a smirk, not taking a word of you seriously.

Your gaze nervously darts around his body language as he finally took a breath and nodded, "Sure," he said casually. You felt a series of knots and worries untangle in your head as you heard his response; you were finally back on track. You liked to believe this was the start of many good things this semester.

"On one condition,"

You glared at him warily, "The kiss cam has yet to have found its success," he mentioned. You frowned at him, tilting your head to the side cluelessly, "Say what?" you asked. "I've enchanted the kiss cam, in which it will select either a random pair in the crowd, or a pair that had previously... fucked and/or engaged in any romantic activities," he explained, folding his arms.

"And, I've yet to test it,"

Your eyebrows furrowed together, and you couldn't help the long sigh that came out of your mouth. But despite all of the questions swirling in your head about what was the reason behind the untested kiss cam, you took a long breath again, feigning patience that you hope would stretch on towards the night.

"So, what's the condition?" you asked him before he smiled at you, "Well, if the kiss cam works this weekend, you're getting that interview, if it doesn't, well-" James sucked in a breath while gritting his teeth, averting his gaze, "I'm afraid the Hogwarts Times won't want an interview with a fraud, don't they?" he quipped whilst you pursed your lips reluctantly.

There was a weighted silence in the air, and James' teasing demeanor seemed to have shifted into his serious look, and if you weren't mistaken, genuine concern flashing through his eyes.

"I bet there's a catch," he mentioned quietly whilst you nodded gravely, avoiding his gaze. "This interview is my last shot at staying with them for my last year," you whispered to him. James watched you attentively, head tilting to catch your faraway gaze with his, and for a second, he looked kind, the friendliness that you would've never thought tat existed within him. "If... if your invention doesn't work, I would get kicked out," you admitted softly, looking down at your lap as you play with your skirt.

"Look, I know we're not close like that, or anything. Believe me, you and I are leagues apart, but I don't know anyone else who understands this kind of pressure except you," you explained languidly, before you shook your head with a smile, brushing off what you had just said earlier. "Sorry, I'm a bit sleep deprived," you said with a soft laugh, as you stretched your arms and turned to face your work.

James watched you calmly collect yourself, grabbing a book from his side of the table to read through what you had needed to absorb before writing it down.

And just like every other night, the both of you workaholics fell into a system of progress. The rest of the night went on smoothly, as the both of you took turns in asking questions and suggesting what to write, and how to write it. Ink was being fairly used throughout pages and pages of parchment, whispers of each other's exhaustion keeping the both of you going.

You wouldn't admit it out loud, but James knew boundaries; he knew that you had your flaws as a fellow academic achiever, and he knew he had his own, and the both of you had never held it up against each other. You both knew how to respond to each other's vulnerability, without overstepping, without blindly hurting the other, and in that moment, describing the second wizarding war on parchment, you realized that maybe all these years, James Chao and Y/N were never rivals, but instead a team.

Quidditch was held on Saturdays; this Saturday was Slytherin vs Gryffindor. You never had a bone, interest, or any of the sort for the sport, but you had to be there alongside Manon to hopefully help her with recording every single thing to assist with the sports-writing team. So every single year, succeeding your 3rd year, you've been accompanying Manon for the sake of journalism.

It was fun witnessing sportmanship at Hogwarts' finest display on the court; there was something nerve-wracking about the present match.

"That's got to be a foul!" James yelled from beside you as he watched fellow Slytherin seeker, Sean, crash into Gryffindor's seeker. "Fuck! Get up, Seonghyeon! " he yelped as he leaned over the stands to witness Sean recover mid-air ever so slowly, as he gently lifted himself up on his broom to the clouds in search of the golden snitch.

You had to convince Manon that the only way that James was going to ever let you interview him was to watch you lose your money to him through a bet on which team might win.

You've never bet on a team, let alone be that invested in a Quidditch match. Nevertheless, Manon seemed convinced and let you sit with James.

He slumped back in his seat heavily as he ran his hands through his once perfectly gelled hair. "We're going to win, you'll see," he muttered to you, though you were unconvinced. You nodded at him in acknowledgement as you continued to watch the game, while the back of your mind anticipated the dreaded result of the experiment being held at this very moment.

"It's going to work," James said to you determinedly, giving you a small smile of encouragement. You returned the smile, although it didn't help much with your increasing anxiety.

During an intermission, where the players of both teams were pulled aside to deliberate a foul with the referee. A floating device appeared from below the stands.

It looked like a combination of a camera and a projector; you weren't quite sure, but you'd seen those objects in books when you took Muggle Studies.

"Aaand, here we go, witches and wizards, the ever-so-famous Kiss Cam, invented by the West, however made by our very own James Chao!" The announcer, Sophia, on the tower with one of the professors, furthest from the elevated bleachers, exclaimed through the microphone.

You sank in your seat as James instinctively grabbed your hand tightly, and you could see by the way his eyebrows knitted together and the way he was biting his lip while he anticipated — he was nervous.

Your gaze left the device whizzing around with incredible speed, trying to find its pair, and instead you focused on James, tilting your hand to grab his tightly, rubbing your thumb against the back of his hand.

Sophia in the background made a load of noises of excitement and anticipation in order to hype up the crowd. And in turn, the audience erupted in all sorts of exclamatory noise.

Then a sound, a loud click.

"Seems like the kiss cam recognizes its inventor!"

James' eyebrows released all of their tension, and his widened eyes turned to look at you. For the first time in your life, James' face was, in fact, capable of holding multiple emotions all at once. You saw relief, pride, and hesitance all in one handsome face.

A gust of wind ran past the bleachers; the breeze felt by many as you looked up and saw the clouds forming the silhouette of you and your seatmate. Your face mirrored the expression on the clouds.

Your heartbeat shot up greatly as you felt your jaw going slack; you were bewitched by the astonishing enchantment he had made, all by himself.

The crowd erupted in cheerful and teasing noise as you tried to calm yourself down by breathing slowly.

"You'll get that interview after all," James said beside you as you saw his cloud mimicking how his face moved. As a bunch of clouds, he was still strikingly sharp and attractive.

You looked at him finally, taking in the relief that completely took over his face. "It won't move until we kiss," James murmured flirtatiously as you felt your cheeks blush whilst you leaned closer to each other. Your breaths tickled each other's lips as the cheers grew louder and louder in your ears, competing with the sound of your heartbeat.

And you took him by surprise, as you placed your shaky hand on his nape, pushing his head towards you relentlessly, crashing his lips against you.

Your movements were made from nervousness, but it had all paid off.

His lips were soft and full; your heart celebrated, and the world was lost to both of you, and you were glad that these were one of the moments when you held no hesitation, and were, for once, sure about what you were doing.

You could feel James' own shaky hands caress your cheeks, pushing himself deeper into the kiss, letting you feel the warmth and the longing that he too held for you this whole time.

Because maybe all this time, you did have a thing for James, and maybe it was the hesitance that you held on to for so long in addressing whatever you were to each other that only held you back further as a team.

join the taglist ! ── @ave-encoer @sftnico @yurilover249

The bass thumped through the floorboards like a second heartbeat, vibrating up through your heels and settling somewhere in your ribs. You could feel the party before you could see it. Red Solo cups littered the walkway, bodies pressed against bodies in the living room, and that ever-present fog of sweat and body spray that seemed to follow Stella's house like a shadow.

"There you are!" Stella grabbed your wrist, her acrylics clicking against your skin, pulling you through the kitchen threshold. Her blonde hair, dyed the same honeyed shade as her brother's, caught the strobe lights from the living room, creating a halo effect that made her look almost angelic. Almost. "I was about to send out a search party."

"You know I had to finish that essay," you said, letting her guide you toward the kitchen island. "My professor won’t accept 'I was at a rager' as an excuse for late work."

Stella laughed, the sound cutting through the noise, warm and familiar. She handed you a cup of something fruity and suspicious, and leaned against the counter beside you. "You're such a nerd. That's why I love you."

You sipped, letting the sweetness hit. "Where's the music coming from? This actually sounds decent."

"Oh." Stella's smile went knowing, tilted at the edges. She nodded toward the archway leading to the living room. "My brother’s on the decks tonight. He threatened to blackball James from the next three parties if he touched his equipment."

Your eyes drifted before your brain could catch up, scanning the crowd through the archway. The living room had been transformed. Couch pushed back, coffee table relocated, and in the corner, elevated slightly on a platform of wooden crates and a folding table, was Martin.

He was wearing a white tank that clung to his shoulders, arms moving with practiced ease over the mixer. His blonde hair, dyed blonde, almost platinum under the lights, fell across his forehead in a way that looked calculated but was probably just from moving around. From here, he looked every inch the frat boy stereotype. Tall, built from basketball and gym sessions, radiating that specific brand of confidence that came from being six foot three and knowing everyone at the party.

He had his boys around him, some standing on the platform, some leaning against the wall, all of them nodding to the beat he was laying down. A couple girls were hovering nearby too, laughing too loud at something one of his bros said, but Martin wasn't looking at them.

He was looking at you.

The recognition hit like static electricity. Your gaze locked with his across the crowded room, and his hands didn't stop moving, fingers dancing over knobs and faders, but something in his posture shifted. A tilt of the head. A smirk that wasn't quite aimed at the crowd.

"Uh-huh," Stella said, drawing the syllable out like taffy. She waved her hand in front of your face. "Earth to Y/N."

You snapped your attention back to her, heat creeping up your neck that had nothing to do with the body heat in the room. "What?"

"Nothing." She was grinning now, that wicked best-friend grin that meant she knew something you didn't. "Just noticing how my brother keeps looking over here like he's performing for a crowd of one."

"He's DJing," you said, keeping your voice level, taking another sip. "He's supposed to watch the crowd. Read the room."

"The room is fifty sophomores trying to start a mosh pit, babe. He's not looking at them." She bumped her shoulder against yours. "He's been asking about you, by the way. 'Y/N coming tonight?' 'Y/N working on something?' Like I don't have better things to do than keep tabs on my best friend for my little brother."

"He's being polite," you said, but you didn't believe it. You'd caught Martin's eyes on you before. At dinner when you came over to study, in the hallway when you were leaving, always from across rooms, always with that same intensity that made you feel like you were under a spotlight. But he never approached. Never said more than a mumbled "what's good" when Stella forced introductions.

A boy who looked but didn't touch? Who stared but didn't speak? That wasn't it, as far as you were concerned.

"Come on," Stella said, grabbing your hand again. "Let's go dance before the good songs end."

The living room was a pressure cooker of bodies, heat rising from skin to skin contact, the music shifting to something with a heavier bass line that you could feel in your teeth. Stella moved like she was made of water, all fluid hips and confident steps, and you fell into rhythm beside her, letting the beat loosen your joints.

But you could feel it. That weight on the back of your neck, the prickle of being watched.

Martin was still at his station, still manipulating the crowd's energy with one hand while the other adjusted his headphones. But his eyes kept finding you. In the gap between songs. During the build-up. When the beat dropped and the room erupted, his gaze stayed steady, pinned to you like you were the only fixed point in a spinning room.

You didn't look back. Not directly. You danced with Stella, laughed at her jokes, let some guy from your Econ class spin you around once before you politely extracted yourself. You were unbothered. Untouchable.

If he wanted to look, he could look. But looking was free, and you weren't a museum piece.

"He's going to strain something," Stella shouted over the music, leaning close to your ear. She'd followed your line of sight, or maybe she'd just known where your attention would drift. "All that staring. His neck's gonna snap."

"Maybe he should worry about his transitions instead," you shouted back, but you were smiling despite yourself.

Stella's phone buzzed against her hip. She kept it in a holster like a gunslinger, always accessible, and she checked the screen, her expression shifting. "Shit. I gotta go handle something. Tyler's having a crisis in the backyard about his ex."

"Do you have to?"

"Sadly, yes. I'm the only one who knows the whole story." She squeezed your arm, already backing away. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do!"

"That leaves a lot of options!"

"Exactly!"

She disappeared into the crowd, a flash of blonde hair and sequined top, and suddenly you were alone in a sea of people who knew each other better than they knew you. You made small talk with a girl from your dorm, waved at someone from your study group, but the conversation felt thin, stretched too tight over the noise.

Across the room, Martin's eyes found yours again.

This time, he didn't look away. He held your gaze while his hand reached for a vinyl, actual vinyl, you noticed, not just digital files, and he held it up, showing you the label. Some old rock band you'd never heard of, probably. He raised an eyebrow, a question in the gesture.

You know this one?

You shook your head, just barely.

He smiled then. Not the performative frat boy grin he wore for the crowd, but something smaller, private. He mouthed something you couldn't hear, but you caught the shape of it. Later.

Then the beat dropped, and the crowd surged, and when you looked again, he was focused on his equipment, head nodding to a rhythm only he could hear through his headphones.

You lasted ten more minutes. The friend group you'd found was fine, nice enough, talking about summer plans and internship applications, but none of them had Stella's sharp wit, her ability to make you feel like the funniest person in the room. You did the Irish goodbye, slipping away without announcement, weaving through bodies toward the stairs.

You needed your phone. You'd gotten ready at Stella's earlier, helped her blow up balloons and arrange snack bowls, and you'd left your bag in her room upstairs. The hallway was quieter, the bass muffled to a distant thrum, and you could hear the bathroom door clicking shut, voices behind it that you definitely didn't want to interrupt.

Stella's room was at the end of the hall. But halfway there, you stopped.

Martin's door was open.

Not wide open. Just a crack, a sliver of warm light spilling across the carpet. In all the times you'd been to this house, all the study sessions and movie nights and pre-games, that door had been firmly shut. Locked, probably. A barrier between the frat boy public persona and whatever private world Martin kept hidden.

You looked left. The bathroom door was still closed, muffled laughter seeping through.

You looked right. The stairs led back down to the party, to the noise and the crowd and Martin's eyes on you from across the room.

Well fuck it.

The door creaked when you pushed it. Just enough to slip through, just enough to see.

The first thing that hit you was the smell. Not the expected scent of gym socks and cheap body spray, but something cleaner. Cedar, maybe. Old paper and vinyl. The room was surprisingly neat, bed made with military precision, desk organized with what looked like obsessive attention to detail.

And then you saw the trophies.

They lined a shelf above the desk. Basketball medals, mostly, gold and silver catching the lamplight. Regional championships. MVP awards. The physical proof of the frat boy athlete, the tall guy who dominated the court. You walked closer, running a finger along the edge of a plaque. Martin Jonathan Edwards, All-Conference First Team.

But the walls told a different story.

Posters, actual framed posters, not just taped magazine pages, covered every available inch of drywall. Not the expected sports figures or motivational quotes, but bands. Vintage rock, punk, subgenres you'd need a music degree to identify. Sonic Youth. My Bloody Valentine. Bands with names that sounded like poetry or threats.

And the CDs.

They took up an entire wall, floor to ceiling, organized alphabetically or by genre or by some system only Martin understood. Hundreds of them. Thousands, maybe. You moved toward them like they were magnetic, drawn by the sheer absurdity of it. This collection represented hours of hunting, of crate digging, of obsessive curation.

This wasn't a frat boy room. This was a confession.

You pulled one from the shelf. A rare pressing, judging by the worn edges of the case, and turned it over in your hands. The plastic was cool against your palms.

"Yo, most people ask before they go through someone's stuff."

You didn't jump. You should have, but something in you had been waiting for this. The voice, the presence, the inevitability of him finding you here.

Martin was leaning in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest, head tilted against the frame in that specific way he had, like he was too tall for the world and had gotten used to looking down on everything. He'd taken off his headphones, letting them hang around his neck, and up close you could see the flush in his cheeks from the performance.

He was taller than you remembered, or maybe you were just more aware of it now, the way he filled the doorway, the way you had to look up to meet his eyes.

"I didn't think you'd mind," you said, holding up the CD like evidence. "Since you left the door open. Practically an invitation."

"Practically," he agreed, pushing off the frame with a roll of his shoulders. He stepped into the room, and you realized too late that there was nowhere for you to go. The CD shelf was at your back. The bed was to your left. He was between you and the door.

And then he closed it.

The click of the latch was louder than it should have been, cutting off the party noise to a distant hum. You were alone with him. In his room. With his secrets spread out like offerings.

"Surprising, isn't it?" he asked, nodding toward the posters, the CDs, the carefully curated chaos of his actual personality. "Not exactly what you'd expect from the guy who runs the aux at every party, right?"

"Which part?"

"All of it." He moved closer, not crowding exactly, but occupying space in a way that made you hyperaware of every inch between you. He ran a hand through his hair, the gesture pure frat boy, all casual confidence. "The guy who plays Top 40 for the boys has a first pressing of Daydream Nation. The rush chair knows the entire discography of shoegaze. The frat star has feelings about guitar pedals."

He was smiling, but it was different from downstairs. Self-deprecating. A little sharp.

"Why hide it?" you asked.

"Why not?" He shrugged, that single gesture doing something complicated. Lifting the strap of his tank, shifting the muscle of his shoulder. "People like the frat boy. He's easy. He plays the hits. He doesn't make anyone feel stupid for not knowing who Slowdive is. Plus," he added, a flicker of that cocky grin returning, "girls dig it. No cap."

"But that's not you."

His eyes caught yours, and there it was again. That weight, that intensity from across the room, but now there was no crowd to hide behind. No DJ booth creating distance.

"Nah," he said softly. "That's not me."

He took another step. You took one back, your shoulder blades hitting the CD shelf. He kept advancing, slow, deliberate, until you were moving backward across the carpet, until the backs of your knees hit the edge of his mattress and you sat down hard, the CD still clutched in your hand.

Martin didn't stop. He kept coming, settling onto the bed beside you. Not touching, but close enough that you could feel the heat coming off his arm, could smell that cedar scent up close now, mixed with something else. Something like the static before a storm.

"You know what the worst part is?" he asked, his voice dropping. The party downstairs felt like another planet.

"What?"

"I've been trying to holler at you for months." He turned to face you, one knee bent on the mattress, his body angled toward yours. "Since last semester. Since that night you came over to help Stella with her sociology project and you quoted bell hooks at dinner like it was nothing. Like everyone should just know who bell hooks is."

You blinked. "You remember that?"

"I remember everything." He reached out, his hand hovering over yours where it rested on the CD case. He didn't touch. Not yet. "I remember you wearing that yellow sweater. I remember you laughing at Stella's terrible jokes and making her feel smart even when she was being stupid. I remember thinking, damn, there's someone who actually sees people."

Your throat felt tight. "Martin."

"I know I'm not," he gestured at himself, at the room, at the duality of his existence. "I know I'm not what you probably go for. I'm too tall, I'm in a frat, I act dumber than I am. But I keep looking at you across rooms, and you keep looking back, and I keep thinking maybe."

"Maybe what?"

"Maybe you'd come to my game next week." He said it fast, like the words were escaping. "Saturday, three o'clock. We're playing State. And I know it's just intramural, I know it's not. I'm not trying to wife you up or anything, I just. I play better when you're there. I can feel you watching, and I want to be better."

You stared at him. "That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard."

"I know."

"No, I mean." You laughed, the sound breaking some of the tension, but not all of it. "You think I make you play better? That's insane."

"Probably." He was grinning now, that frat boy charm bleeding through but mixed with something real, something desperate. "But I've been three for three when you're in the stands. Coincidence?"

"Definitely."

"Prove it." He leaned closer, and you didn't pull back. "Come to the game. Watch me lose. I'll admit I was wrong."

"And if you win?"

"Then you let me take you out. Real food, not dining hall sludge. And I tell you about every single CD on that wall."

"That's a lot of CDs."

"I've got time."

He was close now. Close enough that you could see the flecks of darker gold in his dyed hair, the way his pupils had blown wide in the dim light of the room. Close enough that his knee was brushing yours, that his hand had finally settled over yours on the CD case, his fingers warm and long and slightly calloused from basketball and from spinning vinyl.

"You've been watching me," you said. It wasn't an accusation.

"Couldn't stop if I tried," he admitted. "You're a tall girl , you know that right? You walk into rooms like you own them. You make Stella laugh harder than anyone. You pretend not to see me staring, and it drives me absolutely crazy."

"Good."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." You leaned in, just slightly, just enough to close some of the distance. "Maybe you should do something about it instead of just watching."

His breath caught. You could see it, the way his chest stilled, the way his eyes dropped to your mouth and then back up. "Yeah?"

"Yeah."

He moved first, but you met him halfway. It was soft, hesitant, his hand coming up to cup your jaw with a gentleness that didn't match his size, his frat boy exterior. His lips were warm, slightly chapped, and they moved against yours with a carefulness that made your chest ache. No rush, no demand, just the slow exploration of a first kiss, the kind that made you feel like you were in high school again, sneaking around after curfew.

The CD case dug into your palm where you still clutched it, but you didn't care, couldn't care, not with the way he tilted his head to fit better against you, not with the way his other hand found your waist and rested there, light and uncertain and sweet.

He pulled back first, just enough to breathe, his forehead resting against yours. "Is this okay?"

"Yeah," you whispered, your hand finding the front of his tank, gripping the fabric just slightly. "This is okay."

He smiled, that same small, private smile from across the crowded room, and leaned in again. This time was shorter, sweeter, just a press of lips and a promise.

The door burst open.

"Martin, have you seen my girl? I lost her downstairs and she's not answering her..." Stella's voice trailed off, her eyes going wide as saucers as she took in the scene. You and her brother, sitting close on his bed, your hand on his chest, his hand on your waist, guilty as sin.

You scrambled upright, heat flooding your face, your neck, your entire body. "Stella, I can explain."

"Oh my god." She leaned against the doorframe, one hand over her heart, the other pressed to her mouth. "Oh my god. I should have clocked that way sooner."

"Stella, it's not."

"Not what?" She dropped her hand, her expression shifting from shock to delight, that wicked grin returning full force. "Not obvious? Not inevitable? Not the fact that my brother's been down bad for you since literally the first time you came over and he spent forty minutes in the bathroom fixing his hair?"

"Stella," Martin groaned, burying his face in his hands.

"Forty minutes?" you repeated, looking at him.

"She's lying," Martin said, but his ears were turning pink.

"Let’s make it an hour," Stella corrected. "And he made me play three different songs to see which one you'd like best. It was pathetic, truly."

"You're not helping," Martin muttered.

"Oh, I'm absolutely helping." She pushed off the doorframe, backing into the hallway. "I'm about to go tell the whole house that DJ Martin finally made a move. You two have fun. Don't do anything I wouldn't do, which, let's be real, leaves you plenty of room."

"Hell fucking nah, Stella!"

"Love you, bye!"

She pulled the door shut behind her, and you were left in the sudden silence, the hum of the party downstairs filtering through the walls, your face still burning with embarrassment.

"She's going to tell everyone," you said.

"Probably." He ran a hand through his hair, leaning back on his palms, looking up at you with that lazy frat boy grin that didn't quite hide how pleased he was. "You cool with that?"

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"Just checking." He reached out, catching your hand where it rested on the bed, his thumb tracing slow circles against your palm. "So. Saturday. Three o'clock. You gonna come watch me ball?"

"Are you going to play better?"

"Bet." He squeezed your hand, grinning wide. "I'm gonna drop forty points if you're there."

"That's a lot of points."

"For you?" He pulled you back down beside him, easy and casual, like you'd done it a hundred times before. "I'd drop a hundred."

You had fallen asleep with your lips pressed against his collarbone and one of your legs thrown over his naked waist. “Mornin’, beautiful.” He smiles, watching you blink awake. The dimples in his cheeks deepen in a way that makes you want to cradle his face and kiss every single one of them. He's just such a cutie. “Sleep well?” he asks, massaging your soft hips. It's been about two weeks since you moved into his small apartment. Or rather, it's been about two weeks since your father chased you out of the house after you told him you'd be living with the same person he never approved of. “Mhm.” Humming a response, you lift your chin off his chest and turn over so your back is now facing him, though his bicep is still tucked beneath your head like a pillow.

Now that you're lying on your side, James does the only normal thing his mind can think of at that moment after seeing your naked back. His other hand comes up to massage the creamy skin along the small of it, his eyes tracing over the tiny beauty ‘nd stretch marks that make you all the more beautiful. He can't help but slide the blanket down a little lower just to see more of your skin and the pretty scars painting your back like you're the canvas. So beautiful. He even bends his head down to press open-mouthed kisses against your back, trailing them up your spine.

Due to his ticklish touches, you instantly arch your back, your lips parting as a breath pushes past them.

He doesn't expect you to let out a little whine from those touches alone. “Oh, really?” The hand that isn't tucked beneath your head finds your waist and pulls you closer against him. You instantly smile against his bicep, loving the fact that he just can't get enough of you. He kisses your bare shoulders, even trailing down your shoulder blades. Everywhere his lips go, they leave a trail of goosebumps behind. It's almost the equivalent of Bigfoot leaving his fat footprints behind. Then he trails the kisses back up.

“We just woke up, and you're already making me-- ah, shit,” James grunts as he tucks the arm that's beneath you tighter, pulling you closer against him. His other hand travels up and down your stomach, his thumb circling just beneath your belly button. What a hold he has on you now that you can barely move.

“No one's making you do anything...” you manage to get out before gasping. You feel James's grin against the back of your head as his fingers, which had been toying beneath your belly button, travel even lower. Your body instantly tenses, pressing your spine impossibly closer to his chest. Fuck. You reach your hands over your head, tangling your fingers in his hair. Oh, how you love mornings now. You turn your head just enough to catch his mouth, kissing him as your lips find his bottom lip.

He whines before pulling away abruptly. “No. No, no. I can't handle. I need to-- ” Breathing heavily, he pulls away from you and rolls onto his back, facing the ceiling as he drags you on top of him. You're still facing away from him, your spine pressed against his chest, your head resting on his shoulder before it lolls back. “Ah, fuck,” he breathes. “You make me feel so dirty.”

He starts by teasing you, taking his time as he bites down on your shoulder again, trying to ease the bundle of nerves twisting in his stomach. You're far from quiet when another whine slips past your lips. You're so cute. He might just need to bite your whole arm off next. He just wants to cut you open and live inside you instead of this apartment that's practically draining his bank account at this point. You already live in his mind rent-free, so why not live inside you forever?

He spreads your thighs even farther apart, your legs resting on either side of his. He wastes no time, taking his tip as he starts easing it inside you, little by little, already losing his mind over how warm you feel. “Mmm.” You throw your head back deeper against his shoulder, your fingers tangling tighter in his hair as he begins moving in a slow rhythm beneath the covers. It feels so good.

What a shame. Three loud bangs on the cheap bedroom door make both of you jump apart before either of you can get lost in the moment. It scares the life out of you, but what confuses you more is that James doesn't say a word before scrambling to put on his boxers, nearly tripping over them in the process because of how fast he's trying to get them on.

Who is that? How the hell did they get inside? Why does he look panicked?

It seemed like whoever's behind the door is impatient as fuck. You don't know how they manage to bust the door open, but all your mind can focus on is the three huge, scary-looking men who just barged in, oh! ‘nd also the fact that you're fuckin’ naked!

“What the fuck?!” you scream. You grab the blanket and yank it up to your chest, securing it beneath your armpits so it won't slip as your wide eyes dart between the men.

“Aww, this is cute.” The tallest man standing in the middle looks the creepiest. He's got the nastiest RBF you've ever seen in your life, and the huge skull tattoo covering the left side of his face only makes him look scarier. The other two are shorter, but the muscles they carry more than make up for it. All three of them turn to James, who thankfully managed to get his boxers on before they barged in.

“You hurt my heart.” The guy keeps talking as soon as he spots James. What the fuck is going on? You tighten the blanket around your chest. “You said you'd have my money a month ago. Then you said a few weeks, then a few days, and now I hear you got yourself a nice little apartment.” He throws both his arms out, gesturing around the place. “But I still haven't heard when I'm getting the damn money you owe me.” He lets out a chuckle, and the way his tongue quickly darts out of his mouth is weird as fuck, almost like a twitch. His eyes are wide and absolutely crazy as shit.

The color drains from James’s entire body until he looks as pale as a ghost. You shake from where you're still sitting on the bed, your eyes moving frantically around the room, trying to figure out what the hell is going on. He doesn't know how to go about this. You weren't supposed to know about these guys, let alone find out that he owed them money. Thousands of dollars at that. 

“I don’t have it on me right now, but I promise you my next paycheck-- ”

“The thing is...” The crazy looking guy circles James, giving you a glance that makes your skin crawl as you pull the covers impossibly closer. If you could disappear into this blanket, you would. “You keep making promises, and no matter what, you just keep on breaking ’em.” He pats James’s cheek before using the force of his hand to push his face away. “As I said, it hurts me, y’know? feels like you don’t take me seriously.” The guy looks toward the two shorter guys behind him, sending them some signal. All of a sudden, they begin approaching the bed you're on.

James notices the signal immediately. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. Wait, wait, wait. She’s naked, she’s fuckin’ nak-- ” James starts backing toward the bed, his hands spread out in front of him as if he can shield you. But before he can get any closer, the main creepy guy grabs him, suddenly pressing a knife against his neck while forcing both of his hands behind his back.

“’Nd you’re gonna be fuckin’ dead if you don’t give me my money.” His hot breath hits James’s ear.

“C’mon, man! I don’t have it!”

You kick and squirm when they begin climbing onto the bed to grab you, but you know you don't stand a chance. “Don’t touch me! Don’t touch me! Don’t touch me!” You thrash and fight against them, still fucking naked underneath the covers. But it’s no use. One slap from one of the men makes you limp, your body finally giving out from the fear. Both men grab onto your elbows as tightly as possible while you shakily keep gripping the blanket against your chest, or at least try to.

You are so furious. You are so scared. You are so confused. Never in your life would you have thought you’d ever be in this situation.

“You didn’t have the money last month. You didn’t have the money last week. You didn’t have the money a few days ago. ‘nd you still don’t have my damn money now.” James doesn’t even look at the guy when he speaks. He’s only looking at you, his nose flaring. This business is between them. Not once did he bring you up, and not once did he mention anything to you. He was supposed to have this under control. This is exactly what he wanted to avoid.

“So that’s all you care about? Hm. Okay.” The creepy guy nods as if he’s saying, alright then. That doesn’t sound good. James finally looks away from your struggling body.

The creepy man makes a motion with his head toward the other two men. “Switch. Give me her.” The men holding you release their grip on command. One of them immediately grabs James from the creepy guy, keeping his wrists restrained behind his back.

“Hello, hello, miss.” The creepy guy grabs your hair in one hand, wrapping it around his fist and yanking your head back. The sting makes you gasp in shock. “I think she likes it.” He looks over at your boyfriend, who is pulling against the restraints of the guy behind him. You don’t like it. You hate this. You feel like you could throw up right now, right onto this asshole’s shoes.

He follows James’s eyes. “What? You don’t like seeing this?” His grip tightens around your hair, and you gasp again from the pain. It’s already sensitive as it is. “Ahh, fineee. I won’t hurt her.” You almost let yourself breathe a sigh of relief at his words, even though he’s already hurt you mentally and physically. You just want this situation to be over. “Just kiddinggggg.” You’re really stupid to think he wouldn’t do anything else. This is a feeling you’ve never experienced before. Your face feels like it’s burning in one specific spot.

The knife cuts across the side of your cheek. “See what you did to her, James? Liars make liars.”

Jame’s jaw twitched, his elbow jamming into the guy behind him, who hunched over and grunted but didn't release his grip.

The creepy guy lowers the knife toward the blanket still wrapped around you, pressing the tip against the fabric in a demand for you to let go. You frantically shake your head, your eyes dropping straight to the floor as you grip the blanket tighter around yourself. You don’t want to. You don’t want to. You don’t want to. You continue shaking your head, your bottom lip wobbling.

When you continue to refuse, he grabs the back of your neck and forces you down to the ground at his feet. One of your hands shoots out to catch yourself from the fall while the other still grips the blanket, desperately trying to keep yourself covered.

“This is your final warning.” He stares James directly in the eyes before the guy holding your boyfriend finally releases him. James doesn’t waste a second. He immediately runs over to you, dropping down onto his knees beside you. His hand lands on your shoulder as the men begin leaving, acting as if they didn’t just traumatize you within the last few minutes.

“I’m going to fix this, okay?” You keep your stare on the floor, your lips wobbling and your eyes overflowing with tears. “Baby, please don’t be mad at me. Please. Don’t. Don’t be mad.” He cups your face, tilting it up so you’re looking at him. But the second he sees nothing but tears filling those pretty eyes and the deep gash from the knife on your cheek, his heart squeezes. “Are you mad? Don’t be mad. It’s over. They’re gone.”

As the music faded into a casual talking break, James started pacing the edge of the extended stage, wiping sweat from his forehead with a small towel. His eyes scanned the sea of signs in the front row. That’s when he stopped. Right in front of your section.

You froze, your fingers trembling slightly around the edges of your cardboard picket sign. It didn't have the usual "I love you" or "Marry me" written on it. Instead, you had used bold marker to write: "i only bought front row to see if the 'main dancer' can actually dance."

James blinked, leaning forward with his hands on his knees to read it clearly. A slow, dangerous smirk crept onto his lips. He lowered his microphone, looking directly into your eyes, and shook his head with a silent, teasing laugh that said, Oh, you think you're funny? (ur not cs I am 🤣🫵🏽)

Before you could breathe, he walked straight down the stairs of the catwalk, coming right up to your specific section of the barricade. The fans around you began to scream blood murder. James knelt down, his face mere inches from yours, the scent of his expensive cologne completely cutting through the humid air.

Without breaking eye contact, he reached out his hand, silently demanding your phone.

With shaking fingers, you unlocked it and handed it over. James took it, turning the camera around to face the two of you. 

He didn't just take a quick video, he held the phone up, gave the camera a 

 wink, and then leaned in close to your ear, using the stage mic so his deep voice boomed through the entire arena:.

"Of course i can dance," he murmured, his eyes locking back onto yours as he handed the phone back to your trembling hands. "Watch closely during the encore, okay?"