ENI

You haven't said a word to each other since climbing into the car, but the silence is louder than any conversation. The undercurrent of tension made your breath shallow and your heart bang against your ribs, begging to be freed like it’s in a prison cell.

Taeyang's words earlier tonight weren't idle promises — they were declarations, and you understood the weight behind them.

At the club, you found yourself tethered to his side like a willing satellite in his orbit. He paid for your drinks with the casual authority of someone accustomed to claiming what he wanted, his arm a permanent fixture around your waist. His gaze was a weapon, mean mugging anyone who even tried to look your way — friends included.

And it was the way he transformed when even Keeho or Jiung offered you a compliment that truly undid you. The subtle shift in his body, the tightening of his grip, and how he'd pull your back flush against him with a hand splayed across your stomach.

Each possessive gesture sent a current of electricity through you, igniting something primal in your core. You craved it, craved him, and the exhilarating feeling of being claimed so completely.

You shift in your seat, crossing and uncrossing your legs while his thumb stills for a fraction of a second before pressing harder, kneading into your muscle.

A faint, smug smile flickers at the corner of his mouth, barely visible in the dim dashboard glow.

He knows exactly what he's doing.

The car slows at a red light, and he turns to look at you. His stare travels slowly, from your eyes down to your lips, then lower, tracing the curve of your neck where your pulse flutters, the swell of your breasts in that tight top you'd chosen.

"You okay?" He asks, his voice low.

You nod, swallowing hard. "Yeah. Just... tired."

He hums a noncommittal sound, and his hand slides an inch higher. The light turns green. He accelerates, but his eyes stay on the road now, though his fingers resume their slow, torturous exploration.

Up, then down. Up…. then down… Each pass creeping a little higher, until his fingertips brush the warm, damp fabric of your panties beneath your skirt.

Your breath hitches and god, you can't help it. He doesn't look at you, but you catch his smirk deepening.

The car turns onto a quieter street, lined with darkened storefronts and the occasional flickering neon sign. Fewer cars and lights. The world narrows to the space inside this vehicle and the weight of his hand on your thigh. Heat pooled low in your belly as his fingers press more firmly against the soaked cotton.

You squeeze your thighs together instinctively, trapping his hand there. He chuckles under his breath, a low, dark sound.

"Spread your legs.” He murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper, but the command is unmistakable.

Your body reacts before your mind catches up. Your knees fall apart, your skirt riding up higher, baring your thighs to the warm air and to his hungry gaze. He glances down, then back at the road, and you watch his jaw tighten.

"Good girl."

The praise sends a shiver through you. His fingers hook into the side of your panties, pulling them aside, and then there's nothing between his touch and your slick, aching cunt.

He drags two fingers through your folds, slowly, gathering your wetness, and you bite your lip so hard you practically taste copper.

"So fucking wet," He mumbled, almost to himself. "Been like this all night?"

You can't answer. You can barely breathe. His fingers circle your clit in lazy strokes teasingly, never quite pressing hard enough to satisfy, and your hips twitch involuntarily, chasing his touch.

"Answer me."

"Yes—“ You gasp. "All night."

He hums approvingly before he presses inside you — one finger, then two, sliding in with a slick, obscene sound that fills the quiet car.

Your head falls back against the headrest, your eyes fluttering shut as he curls his fingers, searching and finding that spot that makes your whole body jolt.

"Hm." He hums in satisfaction before starting a rhythm: slow, deep thrusts, his palm grinding against your clit with every push. The car swerves slightly as he takes a corner too fast, and you realize he's leaving the main roads, guiding the car into a maze of back alleys and darkened parking lots.

Your hands grip the edge of the seat, knuckles white. His fingers are relentless, fucking you in that slow, torturous pace and building a pressure that coils tighter and tighter in your belly. You're already close, embarrassingly close, and he knows it.

"No," He says, pulling his fingers out abruptly. You whimper at the loss, and he chuckles, bringing his wet fingers to his lips, licking them clean with an exaggerated slowness. "Not yet."

He pulls the car into a narrow back street between two brick buildings, the headlights illuminating a graffiti-covered wall. He kills the engine as the silence rushes in, thick and deafening.

He turns to you, and there's no amusement now —just raw, naked hunger. He reaches over, grabs the back of your neck, and pulls you into a kiss that steals the air from your lungs.

It's messy from the start. His lips are hot and demanding, tongue pushing past your teeth to taste you and claim you. There was nothing slow to this, instead, it was desperation and years of pent-up tension crashing together.

You moan into his mouth, your hands flying up to tangle in his hair, pulling him closer. The center console digs into your ribs, but you don't care. You can't get enough of him.

He breaks the kiss just long enough to fumble with his seatbelt, then leans over, crowding you back against the passenger window. The cold glass presses against your bare shoulders, a sharp contrast to the heat of his body covering yours.

His mouth finds your neck, sucking hard, biting down on the curve where it meets your shoulder, and you cry out, your nails raking down his back.

"Been waiting for this all night," He growls against your skin, his hand sliding down your stomach, beneath your skin and into your panties again. "Fought every urge to just fuck you in your living room but I decided against it.” He snickered, trailing slow and sloppy kisses along your neck — whispering into your ear.

“I should’ve though. Wanted to keep you all to myself.” He continued. “Every time you talked to Keeho or even Intak, I wanted to break their fucking jaws. You knew that though, didn't you?“

You shake your head, but you're lying, and he knows it. He pinches your clit, hard, and you gasp.

"Don't lie to me.”

His fingers plunge into you again, three this time, stretching you, and you sob against his mouth as he fucks you with a brutal, fast rhythm.

His thumb circles your clit, pressing down with just the right amount of pressure, and the pressure in your belly builds again, faster this time, hotter.

"Look at you," He mutters, pulling back just enough to watch your face.

“C-close.” You hold his gaze with yours.

"Go ahead." His voice is a command, low and fierce. "On my fingers, now."

Your back arches off the seat, your inner walls clenching around his fingers as a wave of pleasure crashes through you, leaving you trembling and gasping and crying out his name as he works you through it, slowing down only when you whimper from overstimulation.

He pulls his fingers out slowly, watching the strings of your arousal stretch and break between his knuckles. He brings them to your mouth, and you open without hesitation, sucking them clean and tasting yourself on his skin.

His eyes darken. "God, you're perfect."

He pulls away just long enough to recline his seat as far as it will go, then pats his lap. "Come here."

And you don't hesitate for even a second. You climb over the center console weakly, your skirt still riding up around your hips, before you straddle his thighs. The driver's seat is cramped, his knees bracketing your hips, but you make it work. His hands find your waist, guiding you forward until your chest presses against his, your lips inches apart.

Taeyang kisses you again, deep and slow, his tongue stroking yours in a melody that promises more. His hands slide down to grip your ass, squeezing, spreading your cheeks as he grinds you against the hard length of him through his jeans. You can feel him straining against the denim, thick and aching while you reach down between your bodies to free him.

He helps you for a moment, unbuttoning and unzipping himself as your hands moved quick with desperation before he hisses at your fingers wrappinf around his cock, hot and slick with precum.

You stroke him once, twice, spreading the moisture, and he groans into your mouth, his hips bucking into your fist.

"Need you..” You whisper against his lips.

"Take me, then."

You guide him to your entrance, rubbing the tip through your folds, coating him in your wetness. He's breathing hard, his forehead pressed to yours, his eyes half-closed, watching you with a mixture of adoration and raw need.

You sink down slowly.

The stretch is delicious, burning in a fullness that makes your eyes roll back. He fills you completely and perfectly — your bodies practically molded for each other and you pause halfway to adjust, feeling every inch of him inside you.

He groans, his hands gripping your hips so tight you'll bruise. “Feel just as good as I imagined," He breathes, his voice wrecked. "My perfect girl."

You slowly start moving again with a rolling grind that drags his cock against your walls in a way that makes both of you moan.

His lips find yours, and you kiss him through every motion, your tongues tangling and breath mingling — never breaking apart.

The pace builds gradually, your hips finding a pattern that's messy and everything you’ve ever needed.

The car rocks with your movements, the leather seat creaking beneath you. His hands slide up your back, gripping your shoulder blades, pulling you closer. Your knees ache against the seat, but you don't care. You need this. You just needed him.

"Harder—“ You beg against his lips, your voice cracking. "Please—."

He obliges, slamming you down onto him, your thighs burning as you ride him with abandon. His hands are on your ass again, guiding your pace, meeting your bounces with upward bucks of his hips.

The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the car, obscene and wet, accompanied by your choked moans and his guttural groans.

"Look at me.” He grunts, and you do, your eyes locking with his. "I want you to remember who makes you feel this good.“

"You," You gasp, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes from the intensity. "Fuck—Only you."

He kisses you harder, swallowing your cries as your second orgasm builds, coiling in your gut like a spring wound too tight. He can feel it—your walls fluttering around him, your stamina growing sloppy.

"Come with me," He pants, his lips brushing yours with every word. "Right now."

You nod — your eyes closed shut before you shatter together, a shared implosion of heat and noise and blinding pleasure.

You cry out into his mouth as your release crashes over you, waves of ecstasy wringing every last drop of sensation from your body.

He follows a heartbeat later, his hips stuttering as he spills inside you, his groan swallowed by your kiss.

You collapse against him, your forehead resting on his shoulder, your bodies still joined, slick with sweat and cum. His arms wrap around you, holding you close, his lips pressing soft, lingering kisses to your temple, your cheek, the corner of your mouth.

"Wanna go home?" He whispers, echoing his earlier words, but now his tone is softer, laced with something deeper than lust.

You laugh breathlessly, nuzzling into his neck. "Only if you promise a couple more rounds."

He snickers against your skin. “I don’t know if you can handle that.” He says softly.

And the car settles into silence, the city humming beyond the alley walls, the windows fogged, the night clearly far from over.

💌 mika’s message! okay so basically this was rushed ok.. ESPECIALLY THE END. i’m going out soon and wanted to finish this sorry. i hope u fw it tho hes just yeah. guys please be kind to me. ANYWAYS ALSO KENNY AND ENI HAAIIII my theo baddies this is for u. FOR YOUUUU.

"You said that twenty minutes ago!” He called out, voice muffled behind his arm, though there was no real irritation in it, rather it was his familiar fondness disguised as annoyance. "Come on! Everyone’s there and probably having fun without me already!”

"You’re so dramatic!” You called out, and he could hear the smile in your voice while another scoff left your room, followed by the sound of drawers shutting.

Taeyang smirked to himself, shaking his head against the couch cushion. His chest felt warm in a comfortable way. Like coming home. This was normal for you both!!!! Bickering and complaining and him pretending to be irritated while still waiting around anyway, because the truth was he'd wait however long you needed.

“I might just leave without you at this rate—“ He groaned, but that was until you walked out and came down the hallway.

Taeyang sat up so fast his phone nearly slid off his lap, catching it at the last second. But he barely registered the movement because his entire focus had narrowed to you standing in the hallway, rummaging through your bag as you made sure you had everything, and his brain — his usually quick, clever brain — genuinely stopped working.

You looked up at him and ouhh… His breath caught somewhere in his throat and refused to move.

Your black skirt hugged your body so carefully it made his mouth go dry. You paired it with a fitted off-shoulder top that exposed an elegant line of your collarbones and the soft skin of your shoulders. Your makeup was subtle and something about your eyes made them impossible to look away from, deeper and more captivating than usual…. but he’s always loved your eyes anyways.

He stared at you, unable to form a single coherent thought. His heart was doing something concerning in his chest, beating too fast and hard, trying to break through his ribs. Heat crawled up the back of his neck, which immediately became a problem when you noticed.

Your expression shifted from confident to uncertain in seconds, and you glanced down at yourself, then back at him.

"…Why are you looking at me like that?"

Taeyang blinked hard, trying to reboot his brain. "Huh?"

Your brows pulled together, and he watched you fidget with the hem of your skirt — a nervous gesture he'd seen a hundred times but never quite like this. "Does it look bad? Should I change—"

“What? No no no—" His answer came out way too fast. His hands fidgeted for a moment. "No, you look—"

He stopped.. Because “pretty” felt too small of a word. It didn't capture the way his chest had tightened the second he saw you, or how he suddenly couldn't remember how to breathe properly, or the way every appropriate thought had evaporated from his mind.

You waited, and he watched something vulnerable flicker across your face.

Taeyang swallowed hard, his throat suddenly dry.

"You look really good."

His words came out quieter than he intended, rougher, and he watched your expression soften in response.

"Oh," You said softly, and was it his imagination or did your cheeks flush slightly?

Silence stretched between you for half a second too long, heavy enough he could hear his own pulse in his ears. Then he made the mistake of looking at your outfit again. Specifically the skirt.

How short it was… how it would look when you moved… how every single person at this party would notice you the second you walked in.. and how it would look ripped off of you—

His jaw tightened before he could stop himself, a sharp spike of something possessive lancing through his chest.

"…But .. are you sure you’re comfortable?"

The atmosphere changed instantly, like a record scratch. You straightened slowly, and he watched your face shift from soft to defensive. "Excuse me?"

He shifted on the couch, suddenly unable to be still. Restless energy coursed through him…

“I just mean—" He ran a hand through his hair, tugging slightly at the strands. "You know how crowded these things get."

"And?" Your voice had an edge now.

"People are weird." Even as he said it, he knew how it sounded. Knew he was being irrational. But the image of strangers looking at you, approaching you, and trying to get your attention made something hot and uncomfortable twist in his gut.

A laugh escaped you, sharp with disbelief. "People?"

"Guys," He corrected quickly, unable to stop himself. "Guys are weird."

"And somehow you're not?"

"That's different."

Your eyes narrowed immediately, and he watched you cross your arms—a defensive posture he recognized. "How?"

He opened his mouth. Then closed it again.

Because honestly? He didn't know how to explain that the thought of people looking at you tonight already irritated him more than it should. It made no sense for someone who was supposed to be just your friend but bus jealousy sat bitterly.

You stepped closer, and his breath hitched at the decreased distance. He could smell your perfume now .. sweet and warm… And his head fucking spun.

"You're acting strange.” You said, studying his face.

"I'm not."

"You look stressed." Your head tilts, concern bleeding into your expression — and it hits him right in the chest. That simple gesture, those soft eyes, the way you notice him. Months of swallowing this feeling, and now it's clawing up his throat.

"I am stressed."

"Why?"

He lets out a long, rough exhale. But his heart is pounding so hard he's sure you can hear it, feel the vibration in the air between you. His gaze drags over you — slowly, helplessly, hungrily — before he forces it back to your face.

"Because you look like that."

Your expression falters. Lips parting just a fraction. "…Like what?"

"Like I'm two seconds away from grabbing you." His voice is lower now, scrape-thin. "And if I touch you, I’m not gonna stop.”

Your heartbeat skipped — and he saw it. Your breath caught, as your eyes widened just slightly. The room suddenly felt much smaller than before. The air between you felt charged, electric, like the moment before lightning strikes.

He leaned back against the couch like he hadn't just said something capable of ruining your ability to think properly, but his hands gripped the edge of the cushion behind him, knuckles white. His own heart was racing so fast it felt dangerous.

Meanwhile, you were standing there trying to ignore the warmth crawling up your neck and the way your stomach had dropped and flipped simultaneously, while every nerve in your body suddenly felt too aware of him.

"You're insane.” You muttered, but your voice came out softer and breathier. FUCK. You hated how obvious you were.

A slow grin spread across his face immediately, but it didn't quite reach his eyes — they stayed dark, intense, focused entirely on you.

"Hm. There it is."

"What?" Your voice came out smaller than you wanted.

"That look."

You frowned, trying to regain some composure even as your heart hammered against your ribs. "What look?"

"The one you get when you're flustered."

Your jaw dropped. "I am not flustered."

"Sure." He stood. He was still watching you with a knowing expression, and he could see right through every defense you tried to put up.

Taeyang’s eyes stayed on you the entire time. Tracing your face, the curve of your neck, your taunting legs and how you shifted your weight from foot to foot nervously.

It lingered too long now, loaded with everything neither of you had said. Your stomach fluttered with a thousand butterflies, your skin felt too warm, and you couldn't quite catch your breath properly.

You tried distracting yourself by looking at the kitchen counter in attempts to break whatever spell had fallen over the room.

"Are we leaving or not?" Your voice shook slightly. Embarrassing. Go Home.

But he moved closer. His warmth radiated from his body, his cologne wrapped around you and it made your head spin. Your breath caught embarrassingly fast.

"You know what your problem is?" He asked softly, and his voice had dropped lower and so intimate that it made your knees feel weak.

You blinked up at him, having to tilt your head back slightly to maintain eye contact. "What?"

"You have no idea what you do to people."

The words hit harder than they should have, settling deep in your chest and making it hard to breathe.

"Tae—"

"I'm serious." His voice dropped quieter, as he cut you off. and you watched his throat work as he swallowed. "You walk around acting completely normal while everyone else loses their mind around you."

Your stomach flipped violently, butterflies erupting so intensely you felt dizzy. "Everyone?" The question came out barely above a whisper.

His gaze locked onto yours, so intense it made your breath stop completely. "…Me, especially."

Oh okay.

The air disappeared from your lungs. Your heart stopped, then started again twice as fast. Heat flooded through your entire body.

He looked almost annoyed with himself now, one hand coming up to rub the back of his neck — a nervous gesture you'd seen countless times but never quite like this. His jaw was tight and his shoulders were even more tense than before.

"I wasn't gonna say anything," He admitted. "But then you walked out looking like this and now I'm irritated."

You stared at him, trying to process his words through the chaos in your head. Then laughed nervously, the sound shaky. "Because I dressed up?"

"Because every person there is gonna stare at you." His hand dropped from his neck, and he stepped close enough that you had to resist the urge to reach out and touch him. "Because they're all gonna see what I see."

"And?..”

"And I hate it."

The honesty in his voice made your chest tighten painfully. You searched his face carefully, taking in the tension in his jaw. "You sound jealous."

"I am."

Your eyes widened instantly at the confession with no care in the world. God, he was so fucking honest.

"I've been jealous for a while, actually."

Music still played faintly from your abandoned stereo somewhere behind him, but it felt far away now compared to the sound of your heart rate spiking in your ears and the way every cell in your body seemed hyperaware of his proximity didn’t make it any better.

"And you know what's crazy?" He murmured.

"Hm?" You barely managed.

"You still haven't pushed me away."

Your lips parted slightly, and you realized with a start that he was right. He was standing impossibly close, looking at you like he wanted to memorize every reaction on your face, every flutter of your eyelashes, and every catch of your breath.

If anything, you'd leaned closer too. Your body had betrayed you, swaying toward him like he had his own gravitational pull.

“Maybe it’s because I like it when you’re jealous.”

He hummed, smirking down at you now as his eyes did another once over. “Then let me get one thing straight.”

You arched a brow, trying to mask how shaky your legs felt. “Hm?”

“You’re not allowed to leave my side tonight.”

💌 mika’s message! Kenny…. eni…. can u guys hear me???? this one was for u guys. and TRUST. working on part two and u guys WILL bone. ok? LMFAAAO ok sorry bye. if any of u hated this just lmk. Cuz ngl….. ok whatever write it urself.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I'm so sorry—"

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

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

And you felt guilty for even feeling that way.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But still no Jongseob.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And suddenly you were crying.

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

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

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

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

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

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

That completely melted him.

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

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

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

"How come you said you couldn't—"

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

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

This was very public.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yeah — I thought bigger would help."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your eyes widened immediately. "Here?"

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

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

"Seob… what if—"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Hi," He whispered, just for you.

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

"Congratulations, baby. You did it."

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

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

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

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

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