ash♡

Park Sunghoon hasn’t been himself ever since you died in winter.

Not that there’s much left of him to be.

Most of him perished when you did, and the other part that remained became a lifeless body trying to pass the time day by day. The color disappeared from his life once you did, and now all that’s left of him are bleak, monochromatic snapshots of his grief weaving into his everyday routine. Time became indistinguishable without you. Two years of his life were structured around your dates, your classes, and spending time with you. But now, his life became a repetitive cycle of waking up, going to class, and going home, where he rotted with your visage behind his closed eyes as he lied in bed until the next day broke.

Winter left, and Spring came, yet Sunghoon still felt like he was stuck in the cold season. 

In your shared apartment, your things were still there as if you never left. Your puffer jacket was still hanging on the coat rack, unwashed and chilly to the touch. Your toothbrush was still right next to his in the bathroom, the bristles bone-dry from the lack of use. There was an empty space on the full-sized bed, a perfect fit for where your body was supposed to lay right next to him. If Sunghoon closed his eyes and breathed in hard enough, he could still smell the remnants of your lingering, sweet shampoo clinging to the fibers of your pillowcase. 

His friends tried hard to help him move out of his cycle of grief. Sunghoon loved them for it, but he couldn’t help but remain where it was safe, in the little domain where your presence was missing, but your life was still there. Where your pictures hung on the walls, your bright smile lighting up the darkness of each room. Where your lucky pendant mocked him as it hung off the backpack you left on the stool of the kitchen island. Where you still were alive, even if you weren’t physically there.

Jake came in first after you died, letting Sunghoon have his peace for two weeks. Jake was the type to worry so much that it was overwhelming. For the past two weeks, he had blown up Sunghoon’s phone everyday, not letting him have a moment to himself on the device. (Sunghoon was grateful, honestly. Because he had spent the past two weeks looping every video of you until he could memorize the timestamps of every action you took.)

Jake checked on Sunghoon by knocking on his door and bringing him food. “Sunghoon, I brought pyeonyuk from your favorite place…” He gently breached the silence with a careful lilt to his voice, afraid that Sunghoon would snap if Jake said the wrong thing at the wrong time. Sunghoon begrudgingly got out of bed, clutching his phone tightly in his hand, and met Jake in the living room, his hair flying on his head and body dragging across the floorboards.

“I’m not hungry…” Sunghoon muttered in response, the same answer as the day before and the day before that.

“You should eat something, Hoon…” Jake frowned, setting the food on the dining table anyway and opening the takeout bag. Sunghoon didn’t respond. He knew Jake was right, but didn’t have the energy to say anything back. “She wouldn’t want you like this–”

“Don’t talk about her like you know what she wants,” Sunghoon snapped, his voice coming out sharper than he intended. The words stayed in the air, with regret settling into Sunghoon’s guilt-adled mind. But Sunghoon didn’t take them back, he couldn’t.

Jake was your friend before Sunghoon even knew you, so he knew that Jake was still mourning. Sunghoon knew it was wrong for him to say that, but he couldn’t help himself. Jake didn’t know you like he did. He didn’t know the soft murmurs of your sleep and the look of affection in your eyes.

Sometimes, he was angry at Jake for being able to smile after you passed. Other times, he was envious that he could move on so easily and continue living as if you were never there. But in the privacy of your apartment, Jake’s sniffles would merge with Sunghoon’s as they recounted the sides of you only they knew.

Jay came in after to help organize your apartment, more persistent than Jake. “You can’t keep staying like this, Hoon. You’re gonna get bugs, or something…” He murmured, bending over to pick up stray debris on the wooden floors. When your death was still fresh, and your messes were still around, Sunghoon loathed Jay’s help. How dare Jay come in and taint the memories of your existence by cleaning up what you had left behind?

“Jay, stop…” Sunghoon murmured as he helplessly watched his friend reach for the zip-up jacket that you had left on the couch, the cotton material still holding onto your perfume.

“It’s just a jacket, Hoon. It’s gonna smell if you leave it here–”

“I said stop! Just– just fuckin’ leave it where it is, Jay!” Sunghoon’s voice cracked as the volume rose. He stood up without realizing, in Jay’s space, and gripping onto your jacket like it was a lifeline. Jay startled, the jacket slipping from his hands and into Sunghoon’s protective grasp.

“Why does it matter?” Jay had shot back, frustration finally slipping through. “She’s not coming back to wear it, Sunghoon.”

Sunghoon’s heart steeled, and he could only whisper back to Jay as tears slipped down his cheeks.

“Get out.”

Sunghoon was still embarrassed about the amount of screaming and sobbing he did to Jay, but he’s sure that they’re fine now. Apologies flew between them, but Sunghoon had already let go of the anger in his chest. After all, it was only swallowed up by the grief he was feeling for you.

When both of his friends noticed it wasn’t helping, they would take him out on the town, shoving milkshakes in his hand and laughing louder than they usually would. They talked about everything and nothing all at once, carefully avoiding your name as if he would break upon hearing it in public. After a while, Sunghoon didn’t want his friends to feel like their efforts were in vain. So he learned to force a smile, puffing up his cheeks and curling up his lips as Jake made a stupid joke to Jay like he always did. (When Jake and Jay looked triumphant about their victory, turning away to silently celebrate, Sunghoon would let his smile falter.)

The night was like the others. Jake and Jay took him to this diner far out of the way, with an American retro vibe. Red and white stripes lined the walls, and the tiles gleamed in the bright overhead lighting. There were only a few patrons in the restaurant, as it was late. The smell of meat cooking on the grill wafted through the air, permeating the atmosphere with smoke and seasoning. The three men were munching on burgers, updating each other about their courses for the next semester. But mostly, it was just Jake and Jay speaking to Sunghoon. The youngest of the three remained silent for most of the meal, only responding when he felt like he really had to.

But the sight of the cheeseburgers and fries on his platter only made him think of you even more. Even if he knew his friends were trying to distract him from you, he could only be reminded of the countless dates you had at the burger joint next to campus. Reminded of the way you used to get ketchup on the corner of your lips, and how he would wipe it off with his thumb. He used to complain about how you always ate so messily, but he couldn’t help the wide smile from growing on his lips. Can’t you come back? He’d never complain again…

“Guys, it’s getting late. I think we should go now…” Sunghoon spoke up after a while. Truth be told, he was spacing out for most of the time and just wanted to bury himself under the covers. Jake looked at him and smiled, not wanting to push anything.

“Sure, man, we can go back now.” He stood up, dusting off the crumbs from his thighs. He looked at Jay, who simply nodded and stood up to let Sunghoon out of the dining booth they were sitting in. Jay drove them back home, not forgetting to tell Sunghoon to text him in the morning. Sunghoon only nodded in response before going back up to your apartment.

When he opened the door, the silence greeted him as always. Not your cheery voice yelling his name or your padding footsteps eagerly running towards him. There was only a suffocating absence waiting for him. The wooden door clicked shut behind him, and with that sound, his composed act dropped.

Sunghoon’s shoulders slumped. He tried. He really tried. But when his breath hitched, his emotions began to unravel uncontrollably, unfurling like a roll of ribbon. His keys slipped from his fingers, clattering against the floor. His vision blurred as quickly as he blinked, tears filling up his eyes, and his throat closing up as a sob threatened to rise from his chest.

“Fuck–” His word broke apart as soon as he let it out. He collapsed to the ground, his body not strong enough to carry him and the weight of his emotions anymore. He felt ugly– so ugly. His figure practically folded into itself as his knees hit the ground, his chest pressed against his thighs and his arms awkwardly crossed. He uncurled his body, crawling like a baby as he thought to the only thing he wanted.

You.

But you weren’t here. So his hands desperately sought out the closest thing he could get. Your jacket, the one that he still hadn’t moved even though Jay tried to many, many times. He bunched up the fabric in his fingers, the cloth wrinkling under the force of his tight grip. He buried his nose into the fabric, inhaling the sweet smell of your perfume– from the bottle that was still at your vanity, macerating as it went unused. A choked sound tears from his throat as he inhaled sharply, like maybe if he breathed your scent in deep enough, he could fill the hollow space you left behind.

“Please…” His voice was barely there now, worn thin from crying. “Just—just come back.” He squeezed his eyes shut, and the memories came flooding in. Your bright laugh that lifted any weight off his shoulders, your warm eyes always seeking to stare into his, and your heavy hand that slipped effortlessly to slot into his. Then, the quiet moments that you both lived, the meaningless ones, the ones he never thought he’d have to remember like this. They all hit his brain at once, bringing on a throbbing headache for him. But even though it ached to think of you, he still clung to these memories desperately, replaying them over and over on loop.

If he stopped and let them fade even a little, then it would be like losing you all over again.

Your voice wasn’t there to comfort him like it always used to be, and if he took out his phone to play a clip of your sweet voice messages that used to encourage him, he wasn’t sure how he would react. His sobs eventually silenced, faltering into desperate gasps of air. Exhaustion pulled him down as his breathing became uneven. He curled into himself on the floor, still clutching what little of you he has left as his body tumbled to the side. The last thing he felt before he passed out was the faint scent of your perfume and the hollow ache in his chest that never seemed to go away.

Winter had long passed, allowing flowers to bloom over the frigid grass. Yet, Sunghoon remained frozen in the cold weather, trapped in the season you left him in.

Sunghoon didn’t remember setting his alarm, but the shrill sound of it woke him up from his deep sleep.

He kept his eyes closed as he pouted, squirming around as he patted around for his phone. But, instead of meeting the cold floor, his hands brushed up against warm bedding. He shot upright, eyes wide and head throbbing. Who the hell moved him from the floor to the bed?

For a moment, Sunghoon sat still, disoriented and trying to piece together the puzzles of last night through his dazed head. He remembered having a breakdown and the sweet aroma of your perfume. His vision was blurry, and he thought that it was from his tears from last night, but even after blinking for a few seconds, his eyesight didn’t gain any clarity. His hands shot up to rub his eyes, but his sight was still fuzzy. He remembered passing out on the floor, holding your jacket. But he surely didn’t remember this.

He looked down, realizing he was on a twin XL bed. He squinted his eyes as he stared at the bedding. It looked way too familiar. The way that the blanket hung off the edge, and the striped pillow was resting up against the wall, compressed into a flat piece of cotton. It looked all too familiar, too similar to the navy blue set that he used during his freshman year of college.

A chill ran down Sunghoon’s spine as he realized where he was. He was in a freshman dorm.

As he glanced around, his bleary eyes still didn’t clear, but the room around him became a little more concrete. The cheap white paint peeling on the ceiling, the shaky frame of his wooden bunk bed, and the pile of unfolded laundry sitting right in the middle of the floor in a blob of mixed fabrics. The mini-fridge was humming next to his closet. It was all there, exactly the way he remembered two years ago. He would’ve mused at the fact that it looked so identical if he wasn’t so freaked out about being in some random freshman dorm.

Fuck, what did I do last night? I probably look like a creep! In the dorm of some random freshman kid when I’m a junior… He nearly sprained his ankle trying to jump off the bed, scrambling to leave as soon as possible. But as soon as he jumped down from the top bunk, the door opened, revealing Jay.

“Dude, you good? You jumped off the bed mad hard.” Jay snickered, running a hand through his wet hair. Sunghoon blinked. This had to be a dream, a prank, or a grief-induced hallucination. Maybe he cried himself so hard that he lost his fucking mind. Because there was just no way he was staring at freshman year Jay in his freshman year dorm.

Jay was supposed to have short black hair with a strictness that only college and a two-year unpaid internship could instill into him. He was supposed to be wearing button-ups and polos with tight trousers and a fancy belt. But this Jay had longer, dyed silver hair with his teenage features still ghosting his face. This Jay was wearing a soccer team jersey with baggy shorts and his silver conch piercing still looped through his ear.

“Sunghoon, are you okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost…” Jay nervously laughed, throwing the towel around his neck into his hamper. “Did you have a nightmare or something?”

Sunghoon’s throat was dry. He tried to swallow, but instead he broke out into a coughing fit. Jay scrambled to pat his back, grabbing a cold water bottle from the shared mini-fridge. “Th– Thanks…” Sunghoon wheezed as he greedily gulped down the entire bottle. “Uhm, I’m– I’m okay…” He whispered, trying to find his voice. Jay frowned, concerned.

“Are you sure? You sound weird as hell, man.” Jay smiled again, his expression dry and one of concern. Sunghoon cleared his throat and nodded again, turning around to look at himself in the mirror. He was faced with the younger version of himself from two years ago, too. Instead of his ripped figure, his muscles were just beginning to bulge with the beginnings of his consistent workouts. His hair was dark as usual, but he could see the overgrown appearance framing his eyes.

“I– I think ‘m gonna be sick!” Sunghoon gagged, before running to the communal bathrooms and flinging open the closest stall door. He yakked in the toilet, sick to his stomach. The sour smell of vomit filled the claustrophobic space of the stall, and Sunghoon nearly threw up again as chunks of undigested food sputtered out from between his lips. Jay came in a minute later, standing awkwardly next to the open door.

“Are you good, man? You’re worrying me… Did the dining hall fuck you over, too?” Jay snickered. Sunghoon flushed, leaning heavily against the wall as cold sweat clung to the back of his neck. His whole body felt wrong. Jay lingered outside for a moment before speaking again, voice softer this time. “Seriously, Hoon. Did something happen?”

Sunghoon stared at the tiled floor for a moment before flushing down his puke. Everything had fucking happened. You were dead, and he had buried you. But he couldn’t say that to Jay. So instead, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and forced out a weak response.

“Bad dream.”

Jake had been talking about you for weeks before Sunghoon met you.

The puppy-like boy had been yipping his ear off about you, but Sunghoon didn’t even know what you looked like. All he knew you as Jake’s hometown friend who’s known the man since high school. Yet Jake talked about you like Sunghoon was already integrated into your friendship, like you were apart of their routine too.

“Yuck, this dining hall food sucks.” Jake scrunched his nose as his fork penetrated the dry chicken, the metal tearing into the strips of meat. Sunghoon snorted as he dug his spoon into the “soup” that had animal fats coagulating on the surface of the bowl. “Should we take the bus downtown and get sushi?” Jake licked his lips, eager for the change of meal.

“We already used a meal swipe, Jake. I don’t want to waste it.” Sunghoon frowned, but he himself was about to lose his appetite as he stared into the abyss of the tomato soup that bubbled and popped, spurting tiny droplets of thick tomato onto the table. When Jake didn’t respond, Sunghoon assumed that Jake had conceded and began eating his dry chicken, but when he looked up, Jake’s eyes were somewhere else.

Sunghoon followed his eyes to see that Jake was staring at a girl grabbing a cookie. “Ohh, you think she’s cute?” Sunghoon teased. Jake’s lips then curled up in disgust, his entire face contorting to express his repulsion to Sunghoon’s words. The younger boy frowned, disappointed. “Jake, don’t look like that. She may not be your type, but she’s a cute girl.”

“What? Dude, that’s Y/N. My friend from home.” Jake snickered. “So you think she’s cute, huh?” The chestnut-haired boy leaned across the table immediately, grin widening like he had just been handed the greatest entertainment of his week.

“No, Jake, I didn’t say all that.” Sunghoon groaned, knowing that he had just walked himself into a trap.

“Nah, don’t lie. You think she’s cute, huh? She’s single, I can set you up…” Jake smirked, wriggling his eyebrows. Sunghoon groaned, the tip of his pale ears turning red from the embarrassment he was feeling. He covered his face to hide his expression.

“Stop, Jake…” He whined. Jake snickered and pushed Sunghoon’s elbow.

“Be cool, man, she’s coming.” Jake winked, biting his lip at Sunghoon. The pale boy’s face was so red, he was sure he looked like a stop sign at that point. Behind Sunghoon, he heard the steady sounds of footsteps against linoleum. It was when the footsteps were directly behind him that he decided to turn around, not wanting to look too snappy or weird.

Sunghoon was blown away. He thought you were cute from a couple of feet away, debating whether to grab either the cookie or the brownie as you tapped your foot in a rhythmic motion. But you were even more breathtaking up close. You had a soft, warm smile gracing your lips, making you look approachable. Your cheeks were dewy from the humid air that resulted from the smokiness of the chicken charring behind the dining hall bars. You were wearing sweats and a hoodie, dressing warmly for the cool temperatures that began to settle in the atmosphere during September. He absolutely couldn’t hide how smitten he was with you, so much that Jake began lightly kicking his foot under the table.

“Hi, Jake.”

God, even your voice was like honey. Smooth, silky, and thickly sweet. “Hey, Y/N. Did you finish eating, or did you just get here?” Jake asked you, not bothering to hide the wide, mischievous grin that began to spread across his lips.

“Mmm, I ate with my classmate, Chaewon. She left to go back to her dorm already,” You answered, circling the table to stand behind Jake. Your face came into full view of Sunghoon, and he had to remember to swallow so that he could prepare his mouth to speak.

“H– Hey.” Sunghoon’s voice cracked as he greeted you. Jake pursed his lips, biting them to stifle his laughter. He cleared his throat and looked down, embarrassed.

“Hi, I’m Y/N, Jake’s friend.” You giggled, melodic and charming. Sunghoon shyly smiled up at you, gathering the courage to look up at you directly. You took the seat next to Jake, maintaining your friendly grin as you stared at Sunghoon. “Aren’t you in my CS class?” You asked, tilting your head. Sunghoon gulped. He didn’t even realize, but you remembered him so easily. He felt a little guilty.

“Uhm– Uhm, yeah, ‘m– ‘m in CS 1010… Monday, Wednesday, Friday lectures from 12:15 to 1:30… You– you too?” Sunghoon stammered out his question. You giggled again, seemingly amused and endeared by his bashful demeanor.

“Yup, that’s me too! Hey, sit next to me in lecture next time! I sit in like, the middle back. And I’m going to be honest with you, the guy who usually sits next to me… he’s a bit obnoxious…” You leaned in to cheekily whisper to him, as if letting him in on a secret only you both knew about. (And Jake, he guessed…)

The conversation began flowing into a natural river of meaningless talks about dorm life, classes, and unshared stories of Jake that you both had. Honestly, Sunghoon barely remembered what you guys talked about. All that was stuck in his mind was the way you kept glancing at him with your bright, wide eyes that squinted with your cheeks as you smiled and giggled.

At the time, Sunghoon thought it was just a lucky afternoon, stumbling upon a pretty girl and even scoring a friend in a class. He didn’t know then that it would become coffee dates and late-night study sessions, shared bus rides, first kisses, and apartment keys. He didn’t know that one day, he would be whispering “I love you” to you every night before you both fell asleep after long days of cramming for Data Structures and Algorithms. He didn’t know then that you would become home.

And he definitely didn’t know that one day, years later, he would sit on the floor of that very home, begging the universe to let him have you back.

Back then, all he knew was that you smiled at him, and for the first time, he was excited to attend CS 1010.

Sunghoon had finished hyperventilating twenty minutes ago. Or maybe thirty. Time felt fake now, so he honestly couldn’t tell.

All he knew was that he had woken up in his freshman dorm, thrown up in the communal bathroom, cried for a little bit more until Jay awkwardly told him he had to leave, and then kneeled down on the (very disgusting) floor of the stall trying not to pass out or cry again. Either grief had sent him into some form of delusion or psychosis, or genuinely sent him two years in the past. Neither option was looking like an optimal answer to his question of why the hell he was in his freshman year self.

After managing to get up, he went back to his dorm to search for anything that could help his predicament. (As if his dingy gaming laptop could send him back into the present…) He entered his room to grab his morning essentials, splayed out in a cup on his white dorm cart. His vision was still blurry, and it finally clicked to him as to why when he noticed a foreign object on the same cart. He picked up a glasses case and opened them to reveal a pair of glasses. He put them on and stared at himself in the mirror secured on the front of his closet door. 

They were black, wide, and thick-rimmed, pressing up against the sides of his nose and nudging into the fluffy skin of his cheeks. But Sunghoon never wore glasses– he had perfect 20/20 vision. Sunghoon freaked out– who wouldn’t freak out after losing their after a night’s sleep?

He took his cup of essentials to the bathroom, cringing at the loadout. He had a dingy, plastic toothbrush and a cheap tube of toothpaste. He didn’t own his usual mixsoon skincare, so he couldn’t wash his face with cleanser. He brushed his teeth, rinsed his mouth with purple Listerine, and splashed his face with water.

“God, this is sick. This is actually so sick,” he muttered to himself, patting his face dry with his sleep t-shirt and putting on the glasses. Now that he could properly see his reflection in the dusty and streaky mirror, he was staring at the younger version of himself that had softer features, longer, dark-brown hair, and a pair of fucking glasses now.

He looked like a loser, and his present-day brain wanted to fight himself for not taking care of himself properly until he began talking to you. He checked the time on the old and unnecessary clock hanging over the door of the communal bathroom, whispering a curse as he realized that it was almost 8:30AM, his class was at 9AM, and the walk was 20 minutes away from the dorm. 

He ran back to his dorm room to change, throwing open his closet door with a resonating slam against the wooden sideboards. Instead of the expensive and sleek monochrome clothes he meticulously spent two years curating into his fashion style, he was greeted with vibrant colors overtaking any monotone hue that could have hidden in his hangers. He pulled each hanger back, revealing neon green, a bright yellow, and a shirt with Detective Conan on it. He groaned, internally cursing his freshman-year self for buying whatever he could get his cheap hands on. He picked out a green sweater and a clean pair of blue denim jeans. He wanted to accessorize, but when he dug through his other drawers, he couldn’t find anything. There wasn’t even a watch or necklace or bracelet. He shook his head and exhaled in frustration.

Sunghoon checked the calendar on his desk promptly, throwing on a jacket and grabbing a random apple on his desk. It was November, three months after university had started for him. But when his eyes landed on the color-coded events, he was confused. Because instead of CS 1010 and CALC III, the usual courses he took on Monday, he was looking at CHEM 1010 and BIOL 2100. He remembered taking the chemistry course his freshman year, but he definitely remembered not taking anything biology-related in his college career. Hell, he was a Computer Engineering major. What would a CS student need Biology for?

Ignoring the weird nostalgia blooming in his chest and the odd discrepancies that just continued to pile up, Sunghoon went out to go to his classes. Instead of the green trees and blossoming flowers welcoming him outside, he was met with the warm leaves and moderate temperatures of Autumn. Students passed by in a haze, chattering about their classes and walking way faster than Sunghoon remembered. The cold breeze drifted through the campus, inflating his sweater as it crept under the fabric. Jay had already left to attend a mixer for his pre-law frat, leaving Sunghoon to try to stimulate his own brain so he could ignore his weird time flashback or time-travel or whatever the hell this was…

He checked his phone, inhaling a big breath of air and holding it in, as if bracing himself for the impact that he was seeing his screen two years in the past. When the screen brightened, Sunghoon was greeted with Patrick Bateman laughing maniacally at him with blood splattered across his face. He instantly shut his phone off out of embarrassment. “Hell no.” He grunted.

He inhaled again and opened it to check his text messages. He expected to see your name at the top, but instead, it was Jake followed by Jay. He scrolled through, expecting to see your name at least somewhere. After all, it’d been three months since you’ve met. You should’ve at least talked about the CS midterm by now, right? But instead, he scrolled through to see his parents, his sister, and some random high school friends Sunghoon hadn’t thought of in years.

He squeezed his eyes shut. He felt a headache coming on, and his heart was twisting into itself, wringing out all of his worries about his time-travel to soak up the anxieties of you. If he was here—if this was really freshman year, really November, really two years ago— then where the hell were you?

Sunghoon stopped walking in the middle of the sidewalk, students brushing past him with annoyed mutters, enunciated scoffs, and eyerolls. His fingers trembled around his phone as he opened your contact again, except… there was no contact to open. Your name didn’t exist in his phone, and there was nothing to remember you by. His stomach dropped to his feet, and from his feet, crept up the nauseous nagging of… what if you didn’t exist at all now, these two years ago that he was in?

“No, no, no…” he muttered under his breath, swiping faster like your name might magically appear if he looked hard enough. But it didn’t. All that stared back at him was the image of fucking Christian Bale laughing at him, jeering at him as if making a mockery out of Sunghoon.

Could… this not have been his timeline entirely? Instead of going back to the past, did he somehow fall into a world where you never even existed?

Even the beginnings of the thought was enough to make Sunghoon keel over, steadying his body on a nearby tree and focusing his eyes into the nearby bush. Was this world not the version where you sat next to him in CS 1010 and whispered gossip to him during lectures? Because if so, then this wasn’t the version where he walked you home after late-night study sessions and fell in love with you under fluorescent library lights. This wasn’t the version where he kissed you outside your apartment in the snow for the first time.

The version of him that had met you.

Sunghoon’s breathing started to shorten again. He had one hand pressed flat against it the thick and textured trunk of the tree, as if it could keep the world from tilting. The autumn air began feeling suffocating instead of crisp, and the stray threads inside his stupidly bright green sweater began scratching at the hairs on his arms, penetrating through to itch his skin.

think think think think think

Jake? Jake knew you first, didn’t he?

He couldn’t give less of a fuck about his stupid CHEM 1010 class, not when the idea of you not being in his life again was wrapping heavy hands around his neck and choking him. His thumb fumbled as he opened Jake’s contact and scrolled through his messages. Most of it was stupid nonsense, with the most recent text being Jake begging him to skip class for food. Then, buried between them, secluded amongst the sheer amount of back-and-forth texts, was a diamond in the rough.

jake: bro r u coming to the library tmrw nite? jake: y/n’s gonna be there too jake: bro please be normal this time 😭🙏

Sunghoon choked out a broken sound, a cacophony of laughter and sobbing. His knees nearly gave out from the release of tension in his muscles. He pressed the heel of his hand against his eyes, digging it into his eyes to steady himself. Sunghoon didn’t care that he looked like an idiot in the middle of campus while students walked around him. After all, they were ignoring him like his spectacle was an everyday occurrence. He couldn’t care less.

you existed here you were here alive breathing here here in this world not six feet under but above ground walking talking breathing living

Sunghoon stared at the message until the words blurred.

y/n’s gonna be there too

alive alive alive

You were no longer trapped inside of the pictures hung up on the walls. Not reduced to old voice messages and the lingering scent on the piles of clothes you left around the apartment and in your hamper. Not a mere name carved into stone and buried under the solid, winter dirt.

alive.

Sunghoon’s chest caved in on itself. If he had not met you like he did two months ago in the dining hall, then would you both be starting from square one now? Does that mean that he had another chance to start from the beginning? To love you again, wholeheartedly, and make sure that you wouldn’t die? That instead of two measly years, he could love you for an entire lifetime? Or were you destined to meet the same fate again?

He didn’t hesitate to decide. No matter what lifetime he was in, he would make the same decision. He would choose you again, every time, even knowing how it ended. Grief this devastating could only exist because love had once been so kind, and now that he had a chance to experience your living love again, he wouldn’t pass up the opportunity.

Sunghoon: r we still on for the library?

“I didn’t think making a grade calculator would be this fucking hard, oh my god.”

You and Sunghoon were both deep into three Red Bulls, eyes bloodshot and accessorized with grey and purple bags hanging under them. Sunghoon exhaled and slammed his laptop shut, before immediately pulling it open again to reveal the same piece of coding that had been mocking the both of you for hours. Meanwhile, you were slumped over your own laptop, fingers tapping away at your keyboard meaninglessly. Honestly, you weren’t even trying to fix the code, you were just typing a bunch of bullshit into the program.

“Seriously, why did I choose CS?” Sunghoon sulked, about to begin reflecting on every decision that led him there, before you snapped him out of it with a few delicate taps to his arm.

“How about we take a study break, hm?” You tilted your head, smiling up at him. Even though you look exhausted, you still managed to muster up a warm grin on your lips that instantly quelled his anxieties about your project. “Where should we go… it’s pretty chilly outside…” You thought aloud. The way your eyes flicked up and your hand dramatically stroked your chin endeared him, blossoming an aggressive affection in his chest. He squeezed his hands into a fist, trying to resist pinching your cheeks.

“What time is it now? 2AM? Is anything even open?” Sunghoon yawned. You thought about it for a second before gasping. Sunghoon could almost visualize the lightbulb flashing above your head.

“Let’s eat ramyeon at the convenience store on the main road!” You suggested. The brown-haired boy hummed in agreement, standing up abruptly to stretch before putting on his coat. You both abandoned your things and put your trust in student honor as you began your 10-minute walk down the street, leaving the warm and humid library in favor of the chilly autumn weather.

“Sunghoon, have I ever asked you about your lore?” You suddenly asked. Sunghoon furrowed his eyebrows.

“Lore? What does that mean?” He responded, confusion puppeting his eyebrows into a furrow. You puffed up your cheeks as you thought about how to explain the term.

“Like– your cool anime backstory, or whatever…” You answered, embarrassed at the way you chose to describe it. Sunghoon snickered, shaking his head.

“Uhm, I don’t think I have a cool anime backstory, or whatever…” He started to think. “Well… I have a younger sister and then I used to figure-skate. Nothing really interesting, I don’t think…” You gasped at his downplaying of his abilities.

“You used to figure-skate? That’s so cool! When did you start?” You smiled, eyes sparkling at looking up at him with wonder. Sunghoon’s face flushed even harder.

“Uhm… when I was pretty young… I was pretty good at it, other people tell me. But I didn’t have many friends when I was a kid because I was the only guy who did figure-skating,” he continued. You tilted your head curiously.

“Do you have any pictures, Hoon?” You perked up. He tried to ignore the flutter in his heart with the usage of your sudden nickname, instead opting to fumble for his phone. He hid away the Patrick Batemen lockscreen he forgot to change before flashing you a photo of his younger self.

Child Sunghoon was round and soft, with a cute and awkward smile on his face. He wore a flashy costume, a white button-up with silver glitter lining everywhere that it could trace. In his hands was a trophy and a bouquet of flowers. A coo immediately erupted from your throat as you took it in. “Sooo cute, ohmygod!” You gasped. His shining pupils disappeared as he smiled, bashful as he looked away. He turned off the phone, causing you to whine.

“Nooo~ Hoon, send me the photo! I’ll make it your contact!”

As much as he didn’t want to give in, ultimately, he did. He airdropped the photo to you, which you received with a delighted squeal. Sunghoon peered over your shoulder, trying to subtly look at what you were going to do. Just as you said, you immediately went to change his assigned contact photo to the child version of his picture. But as you opened his chatbox, his heart stuttered. His number was saved under ‘hoon <3.’

He immediately jerked his head away, blushing profusely as he tried to ignore the steady and rising thumping in his chest. You looked up at him, oblivious to the motions his body was going through.

“Soo, what ramyeon should we eat?”

Sunghoon didn’t know shit about biology, so he left his lab as soon as the class ended.

His labmates were very obviously frustrated, not-so-subtly glaring at him as they passive-aggressively shot their DNA samples into the wells of the gel electrophoresis. One of his lab mates, a nice boy named Sunoo, leaned in to whisper into his ear, “Are you okay? You’re normally never this slow?” And after a reassuring nod, Sunoo pouted and looked away. Sunghoon guessed that meant he was actually skilled in biology, but he knew for sure that this Sunghoon, the one who wanted to pursue cybersecurity, didn’t know jackshit about DNA, RNA, and whatever the Central Dogma was.

Sunghoon was hungry, his brain was overloaded with too much new information, and all he could think about was the thought of seeing you. Breathing, alive, and here. So as soon as the TA dismissed everyone, he sprinted out of the lab and across campus to the library. He didn’t care if he looked stupid, clutching his backpack strap and punching his shoulders backwards and forwards in order to gain more momentum as he ran for his life. All he cared about was you. you you you

As he neared the library, waiting for the crosswalk to turn green for pedestrians, he whipped out his phone to text Jake.

Sunghoon: Hey Jake. Where are U sitting. Sunghoon: What floor are U on? Sunghoon: Where R U located. jake: ???? jake: were on the fourth floor in a cubby jake: why r u texting so weird LOL when dod u use punctuations n caps? Sunghoon: Uhhh trying out a new style of texting. jake: wtv man just dont act like a weirdo with y/n LOL jake: dont tell her i said this but she said shes excited to see u

Sunghoon’s heart was pounding, and he was sure it wasn’t because of the intense cardio. He looked back and forth on the road, tapping his foot impatiently as the crosswalk was still red. As soon as the street was cleared of cars, he began rapidly walking across the road, ignoring the protests of the crossguard with an embarrassed expression on his face.

He practically bolted across the small lawn in front of the library in order to enter it, panting as he climbed up the large flight of stairs leading up to the main entrance. He pushed the doors open, his feet rapidly clicking against the tiled floor as he raced to find you and Jake. He rounded around the entirety of the fourth floor, ignoring the pointed and obvious stares of the other people trying to study. Soft chatter and giggles filled the wide floor, as well as the sounds of keyboards clicking under pressure and Apple pencils tapping against screens. But one particular sound stood out to him.

The sound of your sweet, sweet laughter.

He nearly tripped as he rounded the corner, only to see the glorious sight that his heart had been searching for forever.

You.

You were sitting cross-legged on one of the seats in the cubby, your laptop balanced on your thighs and a Red Bull cracked open beside you. The same, sugar-free flavor that you always liked when you both studied together and that Sunghoon conditioned himself into loving, too. Jake was next to you, saying something dramatic with his hands, and you were laughing at him– your head tipped back slightly, eyes squinting, your smile so bright that it was the only thing he could see.

For a moment, the entire world went silent until his ears began ringing. There was nothing else in the world except you.

Just you.

Alive.

Not framed in a photograph, not buried under frozen dirt, and not simply reduced to a voice memo he replayed at three in the morning because he was afraid he’d forget the exact cadence of your laugh.

You were here.

You were breathing, laughing, smiling, moving, existing. Alive.

Sunghoon stopped walking.

His body forgot how to function, rooted to the tiled floor as if one more step would shatter the fragile miracle in front of him. His vision blurred almost instantly, tears gathering so fast it embarrassed him.

Because you were there, right in front of him after the seasons had changed and months had passed since he last saw you.

Wearing some oversized hoodie he recognized from years ago, sleeves covering half your hands. Your hair slightly messy, your lips wrapped around the straw of your drink, your foot absentmindedly bumping against Jake’s chair.

You were so alive.

Sunghoon’s throat closed as the tears wouldn’t stop. He hurriedly brought up his sleeves to wipe his eyes. He had spent months begging the universe for this. Whether he was in the kitchen, pleading to have you back so you could wash your dirty dishes. Or buried in the side of your bed, his face smothered by the scent-heavy fabric of your pillow case. At your grave, where your name engraved into the stone mocked him and the dates of your birth and date blending in together. In every quiet second where grief became too heavy to carry, and Sunghoon’s body would collapse from the sheer weight of it all on his back.

Yet now, here you were, as if no time had passed at all and Sunghoon was back to day one. 

Jake noticed him first, standing outside the cubicle like a weirdo. To be fair, Jake thought Sunghoon was a weirdo until he recognized the vibrant fashion choice. “Dude, finally—” Jake started, the beginnings of a laugh about to escape his throat, but the words died in his throat when he saw Sunghoon’s face, because Sunghoon looked like he was seeing a ghost.

Your eyes followed Jake’s, landing on him, and Sunghoon’s breath hitched. He had your eyes on him, and they hadn’t changed from the last time he saw you. They were as bright as he remembered, with the stars of the night filling them with a shine so breathtaking that Sunghoon couldn’t believe that this was real.

And then you smiled, the same smile that always instantly calmed him down, alleviating him of any negative thoughts. You smiled like you hadn’t fucking died, and Sunghoon was almost angry at how naive you looked, oblivious to the suffering that he had gone through for months without seeing that beautiful visage. But as soon as your lips curled, they faltered.

“Sunghoon?” you said, tilting your head a little. “Are you okay?”

God, your voice was as melodic as he remembered. So softspoken per usual, with a tune that was like angels were singing. A broken sound left his throat before he could stop it— a half laugh and a half sob mixing together to produce something ugly and raw. His hand came up to cover his mouth like he could physically shove the emotions and sound back inside of his throat. But he couldn’t. because you were looking at him finally after months of going without it.

alive alive alive youre really alive and youre really here and youre smiling so pretty so beautiful my sweet girlfriend my y/n mine mine mine youre mine

Tears spilled over despite every humiliating attempt to stop them. Your expression immediately shifted, your weak grin fading into a concerned look as you stood up too quickly, chair scraping against the floor.

“Dude— are you crying?” Jake asked. You hissed at him, silently scolding him for his dumb question. Sunghoon couldn’t help but laugh because that was such a you thing and you were doing it like you always did before and he can’t stop crying you’re you you’re you you’re you

“I’m fine,” he lied instantly, voice cracking so badly it made Jake wince.

You took another step closer. You were so close, so close that he could smell the same sweet perfume that you always wore. The one that he kept on your nightstand to let macerate after you died. The one that was masked by the putrid smell of formaldehyde at your funeral. The one that he spent the last couple of months trying to get a whiff of out of your dirty clothes and unwashed pillowcase.

This was torture. You were standing there looking so beautiful but so painfully not his. Because at this point in time, you didn’t know him yet. Not the way his you did. No, this you didn’t know the shape of his hands in the dark, or how he took his coffee, or the way he only liked sleeping if the weight of his leg was thrown over his. You didn’t know about the apartment that you both lived in until it was just him, alone, with the broken promises of forever and eternal love left to remember you by.

Sunghoon’s fingers twitched at his side. He wanted to reach out to at least brush his fingertips over your arms. He wanted to hold your face. He wanted to hear your heartbeat to make sure that it was beating. He wanted to bury himself in your arms and stay there until the last few months faded until it didn’t exist to him anymore, so he could at least pretend like your death had never happened and he finally got his happily ever after. But he was scared. So scared that if he touched you, he was afraid he would never let go, or you’d vanish and disappear, or he’d wake up from this beautiful dream that was your world.

So instead, he just stood there sobbing and shaking his head like an idiot in the middle of the library.

Sunghoon was inconsolable for an hour.

He honestly thought that an hour was too short for his whiplash of relief and anguish to stop, but he was fine.

Nope, he wasn’t. You patted his back and he began sobbing again.

“Dude, are you okay? What’s wrong, man? I’ve never seen you like this before…” Jake asked, worry laced in his accent-heavy voice. You looked at Jake, your eyebrows knitted in concern for the poor boy sobbing his heart out in front of you.

“Are you having a hard time because of midterms? It’s okay, Sunghoon, it’s okay to cry… let it out, you’ve probably had a stressful week… don’t worry, you’ve worked hard…” You tried to comfort him, but he only sobbed harder because this was something that you would definitely say. Sunghoon sniffled, but let out a few coughs instead. Jake unsuccessfully stifled his snickers as the younger boy began to cough excessively, before crying harder.

“Jake…” you silently hissed, thwacking his shoulder with a heavy hand. His mouth opened as he flinched back. Sunghoon finally calmed down after a while, staring at you with wide eyes. Your hand was still resting lightly against his back, warm through the thin fabric of his sweater, and he thought he might start crying again just from that alone. It was after he processed your body heat that he realized you were touching him. You weren’t a memory or a dream anymore, and most importantly, this is real. Not some cruel hallucination his grief-ridden brain had conjured to keep him from completely falling apart.

Jake looked between the two of you like he was watching a live drama unfold in front of him. “Okay,” he said slowly, dragging the word out. “So, uh, what happened, man?”

Sunghoon opened his mouth.

Nothing. Because what was he supposed to say? Sorry, I watched the love of my life die, spent months rotting in our apartment, cried myself to sleep holding her jacket, and then apparently got thrown backward into freshman year like some sick cosmic joke?

He knew Jake believed in the idea of multiple universes. He knew that from his constant rant about physics and the laws of the galaxy or whatever the hell Jake yapped about– it wasn’t like Sunghoon didn’t care about Jake’s interests. He just didn’t understand. But Sunghoon wasn’t sure that Jake would be so open-minded to find out that he had time-traveled two years into the past from a future that you died in.

Sunghoon simply swallowed hard and just looked away. “I just…” His voice came out hoarse. “I had a really bad dream.”

Jake blinked. “Dude, that bad?” He grimaced.

Sunghoon nodded with a small frown. Your expression softened immediately, and Sunghoon immediately noticed the shift in your face. Because you were giving him that unbearably gentle look you always gave him when he was trying too hard to pretend he was okay, the same look that Sunghoon got when he failed his CSO midterm in sophomore year and when he almost flunked Prob Stat. It made his chest ache with a comforting nostalgia.

“Sunghoon,” you said softly, pulling your chair out beside yours, “you should sit down before you pass out or something. You look like you ran here.” You giggled. Sunghoon sniffled, his plump bottom lip jutted out in a pretty pink pout. His cheeks were now streaked with the dried-up stream of his tears and his entire face was flushed and puffy. You sounded so pretty when you said his name. Sunghoon let out a weak, embarrassed laugh and sat where you told him to, because your voice still had the same authority over him that it always would.

Jake shoved a tissue packet toward him across the table, the plastic messily torn open, as if Jake didn’t care for tabs that instructed him. “For our sobbing Sunghoon…” he snickered. You and Sunghoon both smacked his arm.

“Shut up,” Sunghoon croaked, his voice still ruined from crying. You laughed softly at that, and the sound nearly made him start all over again. He pulled off his glasses and dabbed uselessly at his face while desperately trying to act like a normal person and not a man whose entire soul had just been resurrected by the sight of you alive. When he put back on his glasses, his vision clear from tears and poor eyesight, they landed on your laptop.

The screen was still open beside you, but instead of lines of code and an unfinished project like he expected, he caught sight of anatomy diagrams and a color-coded set of notes. Organs, labeled veins, tiny handwritten mnemonics in the margins. On another tab, a link to register for CNA classes. Sunghoon blinked, confused.

“…You’re not in CS.”

The words slipped out before he could stop them. Jake snorted immediately. Your eyebrows lifted in confusion before you laughed. “No? Definitely not.” You turned your laptop a little toward him, showing him the mess of biology notes even though you didn’t really have to prove it to him.

“I’m a nursing major, unfortunately,” you sighed dramatically. “Heavy emphasis on the unfortunately this week. I have a poster presentation due for chem lab this week, and my group partners suck… They keep ghosting me… but what can you expect from engineering majors?” You joked lightly. “Hey, did you think I was a CS major ‘cuz I keep hanging out with this stinky loser?” You pouted.

“Hey!” Jake protested in the background, but Sunghoon didn’t care. His word was tilting even more on its axis, and he felt like the laws of the universe were rewriting themselves.

“No– No, sorry… I guess I mistook your major for someone else’s…” Sunghoon nervously laughed. “Uhm… Is– is it hard– Nursing, I mean?” Sunghoon meekly gulped. You smiled and nodded.

“Yeah, but, I guess everything is hard, right? I don’t think I could ever take discrete or linear or anything of that sort.” You giggled. Sunghoon swallowed dryly and nodded. What would you think if you knew you were his tutor in those classes when you guys dated? Would you laugh him off in disbelief, or would you brush it off and claim yourself as a genius…?

Jake rolled his eyes at how awkward you both were. He distracted himself with his Calc III homework, trying to ignore the very obvious attraction looming over the both of your heads. He thought to himself as he made a very hard point to not stare at the both of you guys speaking.

“Man, I hope I don’t have to third-wheel.”

Your number was in Sunghoon’s phone now, saved under your name.

You had input your own contact name, a simple formality of your name, and in parentheses (jake’s friend). But you were more than just Jake’s friend to him, so he changed it as soon as he got back to his dorm, replacing the parentheses with a sweet and simple ‘<3’ instead. He resisted the urge to text you as soon as all three of you left the library.

Sunghoon took a shower as soon as he got back to his dorm. It had been so long since he stepped foot in a communal shower that he almost stepped in barefoot. He almost freaked out when he realized he forgot his shower slippers. He stepped back in, feet now clad in slippers and his shower caddy in hand. The water pressure was harsher than he remembered, the shower spray hitting his scalp like bullets. His caddy only contained a simple shampoo, conditioner, and bar soap, which made him grimace internally. When he did his skincare, he tried to ignore the oily feeling that sat like a film over his skin.

Jay greeted him when he entered his dorm again, his wet hair dripping a pathway into the shared space and his slippers flopping against the wooden floor. “Hey man.” Jay briefly looked up, staring at his laptop as he softly strummed his guitar. “You going to bed soon? I can stop playing.”

“No, you’re good, Jay…” Sunghoon replied, taking off his glasses and setting it back into the case, the magnetized plastic snapping shut. Sunghoon grunted as he climbed onto the top bunk of his bed. Jay smiled and nodded, before going back to playing around with his acoustic guitar.

Sunghoon tucked himself under the covers, letting out a small sigh of relief. His back was aching, and his eyes felt a bit sore. He rubbed at the sides of his cheekbones, trying to relieve the puffiness in his face. Suddenly, his phone pinged, causing the black-haired boy to flinch. He reached for his device, tucked under the pillow, opening it only to see your name in his notification center.

y/n <3: hii sunghoon! did u get back to ur dorm yet? i just got back y/n <3: r u feeling better now? Sunghoon: I got back safe. Sunghoon: Thank U for today. Sunghoon: Sorry for being weird. y/n <3: LOL its okay y/n <3: honestly i was kinda flattered Sunghoon: Flattered??? y/n <3: yeah y/n <3: imagine crying that hard after seeing me y/n <3: my ego is huge now y/n <3: but seriously are u okay?

Sunghoon stared at the message, unsure how to respond. Too many answers began to crowd his throat, and he was certain he was about to start crying again. But instead, he typed:

Sunghoon: Bad dream. Sunghoon: Thats all. y/n <3: aw man i’ve been having weird dreams too… but i hope u have a good dream tnt… y/n <3: come study w me again tomorrow!!!

Tomorrow. There was going to be a tomorrow with you.

y/n <3: OH y/n <3: and dont cry again when u see me pls y/n <3: what if i get bullying allegations…

Sunghoon covered his face with one hand, laughing weakly into his palm. God, you were just like how you were back in freshman year of college. Always so approachable and kind, so sweet and patient. Sunghoon bit his lip to stifle his tears, not wanting to interrupt Jay’s peaceful strumming.

Was this a chance from the universe to win you back? To have you back in his arms where you were supposed to be? Were the stars realigning for your love to reconcile? To give you a chance at the life that was taken away from you too early?

Because if so, then who was Sunghoon to deny the universe’s gift?

He vowed it there and then– that he would make you his once again.

The next few weeks blurred together for Sunghoon. Time did feel fake, after all.

At first, he thought being around you again would continue hurting. He’d thought that every time he’d seen you after your first encounter, he’d start crying over and over again. He thought every glance at your face would reopen the wound inside his chest until he bled out from the sheer amount of grief that had welled up in his hollow chest since that fateful winter morning.

But instead, Sunghoon got used to you again.

Between your late-night study sessions and meaningless unproductive chatter in the library, you slipped into his life as naturally as you did the first time around. And now, you managed to sew yourself into the knittings of his daily life cycle again. Your “study nights” turned into convenience store midnight snacks. You invited him to your dorm to “fix the wallpaper” which ended up with you guys reminiscing about your high school days. Your texts became routine too, and every single notification still made his heart jump. Some nights, you’d call him instead. (But your sleepy voice through the speaker sounded too much like the nights in your shared apartment when you’d mumble nonsense into his chest before falling asleep.)

Sunghoon didn’t realize it until late, but he began to notice he was listening and watching you pre-emptively. When you told him about the guy you had beef with for talking back to the teacher back in high school, Sunghoon already knew that. Before you told him you had a bad habit of chewing on the sides of your fingernails when nervous, Sunghoon had already told you to stop. He already knew everything about you. From the way you’d subtly eye the way he took bites of food even after insisting you weren’t hungry to the way your nose would twitch before you started crying– Sunghoon knew every single minute detail about you.

You never commented on it. Sunghoon hoped you just chalked it up to him being observant rather than looking like a creepy stalker who cried whenever he saw a pretty girl. 

“Hoon? Helloooo? Earth to Hoon?”

Your hand was waving in front of his face, a pout on your lips. “Zoning out again?” You huffed. He smiled, cheeks puffing up as he looked at you. You both were in the convenience store again, looking for a late-night snack amidst your endless studying for finals.

“Yeah, just thinking what to get,” he replied, following you around as you scoured the aisles. You kept whipping your head back and forth, scanning each item meticulously as you thought about what you were craving. Absentmindedly, you rubbed your tummy over your hoodie, pouting slightly. 

“I dunno what to get either. Should I get a drink too? ‘M kinda thirsty.” You hummed, pinching a drink pouch between your fingers as you examined the flavors. Sunghoon watched as you looked around. He suddenly reached out to give you a green grape flavored drink pouch. You looked at him, confused but still smiling.

“Thanks, Hoon, but I don’t really like green grape.”

What?

Sunghoon furrowed his eyebrows, confused. “Really? You don’t like green grape?” His tone was wavering, and you were puzzled. He sounded so torn up about the fact that you didn’t like green grape.

“Are you a green grape superfan, Hoon?” You laughed, reaching for the lychee pouch instead. Sunghoon’s face remained confused, his eyebrows knitted and lips twisted up into a weird pout. He shook his head, making you laugh.

“You’re so weird sometimes, Hoon…” you said, giggling as you picked up an ice cup. Sunghoon followed you, still perplexed as you continued to pick your late-night meal.

Because you loved green grape and hated lychee.

He remembered when you told him about how you hated lychee. It was too sweet, but green grapes were just right for you— a perfect balance of sour and sweet in a small fruit. He remembered laughing at you about it, teasing you for being so nitpicky with your fruit, so why were you here eyeing every sweet fruit flavored pouch?

Your fingers skimmed across all of the ramyeon cup noodle packages, your head tilting as you tried to find the perfect one. Sunghoon was still behind you, but his footsteps became slower and more mechanic as his brain was racing. “What about this flavor?” Sunghoon picked up your favorite, Carbonara Buldak. You scrunched your noise and picked up the 2X Spicy Buldak instead.

“I like really spicy things, Hoon! The carbonara isn’t spicy enough for me!”

His mind was clipped, as if everything he had been thinking of suddenly disappeared. Sunghoon could excuse the change of majors— hell, his own major changed when he woke up in the past. But the few little things that he had grown to love were even changing in front of his own eyes.

“Ah? Really… this flavor is good too…” he mumbled, nearly incoherent. You laughed, furrowing your eyebrows before going to pay for your food. He followed behind, mindlessly tapping his card to pay for your things, his racing mind drowning out the sounds of your whined protests.

It was after that when Sunghoon began watching you closely.

During movie nights, you happily stole bites of Jake’s mint chocolate chip without even batting an eye, but you hated mint chocolate chip ice cream because your cousin threw it up on you when you were seven. You sucked at chemistry and nearly cried over memorizing all the molecular orbital structures, but now you could solve a retrosynthetic analysis question with a single glance, as if you were adding one plus one. You told him one late night walking back to the dorms that you became a nursing major because your mother was a nurse, but Sunghoon remembered his “future-mother-in-law” actually worked in an IT department, which led to your passion for computer systems.

This version of you didn’t scrunch your nose at sickly sweet candle scents anymore. This version of you didn’t like wearing cute pieces of jewelry that framed your body like an art piece. This version of you didn’t like dogs. This version of you hated rom-coms. This version of you wasn’t exactly his.

The more time Sunghoon spent in this world, the more wrong everything felt. You were still here, and that’s all that he believed he cared for. But everything felt wrong enough to keep him up at night, recounting all of the true memories he shared with you. This place looked like his world, his universe, but every day, more tiny differences revealed themselves like cracks in glass to the point where the fragile world that Sunghoon wanted to believe in was about to collapse.

You’re still Y/N. Sunghoon couldn’t deny that. But you didn’t feel like the same Y/N that he fell in love with sometimes. Still, he couldn’t stop himself from loving you again. Sunghoon could ignore the minor changes in your life if it meant having you all over again, right?

“You’re staring again.”

Sunghoon blinked, immediately looking away from you across the table. Where was he again…? He glanced around, taking in his surroundings that was the study area on the first floor of your dorm building. Sunghoon briefly looked at the multitude of formulas you had written on the whiteboard of the small room before directing his gaze back at you.

“I am not,” he muttered.

“Soo we’re lying now…?” you laughed, spinning the whiteboard marker between your fingers. “You always stare at me, Hoon. Do you know that? It’s like you know something I don’t… like you know everything, or something, or whatever… You’re so suspicious sometimes….” Sunghoon shrugged awkwardly and looked back down at his laptop screen.

“It’s not that, promise. You’re just hard to look away from,” he mumbled before he could stop himself, the reply coming easily to him. It was something that he used to tell you all the time.

Your face flushed immediately, and Sunghoon felt warmth crawl up his own neck too. But unlike before, he didn’t panic under your gaze anymore. Sunghoon used to be scared of moving closer to you. Was it too bold to constantly sit next to you? To comfortably lean into your space as if it was his too? He was itching to have you be his again.

But over the past month, you had become comfortable around him too. Comfortable enough to lean against his shoulder during late-night bus rides. Comfortable enough to nab food off of his dining hall plates. Comfortable enough to text him first thing in the morning and last thing before sleeping. Comfortable enough that sometimes, when you laughed too hard, you’d instinctively grab onto his arm.

You’re too cruel. You were unknowingly becoming his again. But Sunghoon didn’t know what to think. All his mind could conjure was the question of how fast you could be his again– should he confess now? But instead, he continued to stare as you worked through your chemistry practice exam questions.

One evening, the three of you ended up stuck in the library until nearly midnight because Jake refused to finish his Calc assignment anywhere else. Sunghoon had long stopped pretending to study. Instead, he watched you again. He couldn’t care less if you thought he was staring again. To be fair, you were half-asleep beside him, cheek squished against your folded arms while pretending to read anatomy notes. It’s not like you could exactly call him out when you were on the verge of passing out.

Your highlighter slipped from your fingers. Sunghoon picked it up before it rolled off the table. Your eyes fluttered open tiredly. “…Thanks,” you mumbled softly. Even exhausted, you looked beautiful. A dangerous tenderness spread through his chest so intensely that it almost scared him. He felt like he was falling harder this time, especially knowing how you both would end up anyways.

“Sunghoon.”

He blinked out of his thoughts. You were staring at him again, your hooded lids fighting to stay open to look at him properly. “Yes?” He replied softly, not wanting his loud voice to puncture you out of your sleep-filled daze.

“You were zoning out...” You frowned slightly, your voice slurring slightly from how exhausted you were. “You’ve been doing that a lot lately.”

Every time he looked at you for too long, memories overlapped. You laughing in the library became you laughing in your apartment kitchen. You falling asleep beside him at a study table became you sleeping on his chest during thunderstorms. Your warm fingertips caressing his soft cheeks before leaning in to press your lips against his–

Sometimes the timelines blended together so badly he forgot which version of you he was seeing. But Sunghoon couldn’t say that, so instead he lied, “I’m okay.”

You looked unconvinced. Then, after a moment, your hand slowly slid across the table toward his. It was a decision that you carefully made– Sunghoon could tell by the way you suddenly spaced out and looked left to right as if physically weighing the choices between touching and not touching him. It was barely anything– a pebble of physical touch that pebbled in comparison to the boulders of love that he used to share with you. It was just your pinky lightly touching his, tentative and careful. You looked shy immediately after doing it, eyes darting away. But Sunghoon felt love blossom in his chest nonetheless.

“…You don’t have to tell me if something’s wrong,” you murmured. “But I hope you know you don’t have to deal with everything alone.” The warmth of your skin against his nearly killed him.

Fuck, so what if some things changed? You were still you in every universe. So kind and gentle and always reaching for him, noticing almost intuitively when Sunghoon was about to lose himself. He carefully hooked his pinky around yours under the table, sending you a reassuring and small grin. Your breath caught slightly, not expecting him to so confidently touch you back.

Jake looked up from his homework. “…Am I interrupting something,” he deadpanned, already knowing the answer despite still asking.

“No,” both of you answered immediately. Jake narrowed his eyes, but didn’t reply. He just let out a quiet sigh before going back to scribbling on his iPad again. You finally closed your eyes to go back to sleep, a subtle and content smile lingering on your lips. Your pinky was still tightly interlocked with his while your other arm relaxed.

Maybe the universe had rewritten details. So what your majors changed or your histories changed? Who cares if this wasn’t his original life?

Because all that mattered to Sunghoon was that you still found your way back to him anyway.

“Hey Hoon!”

Jay entered the dorm in a ruckus, hissing as his guitar case nearly slammed the doorframe and cursing when he stubbed his foot against the wooden plank of the actual door. Sunghoon rushed to hold the door open for his roommate, wincing as Jay slammed his backpack to the ground.

“You okay, Jay? I haven’t seen you in awhile.” Sunghoon took note of the slightly older boy’s appearance. He looked disheveled, with eyebags accessorizing his face and sunken-in cheeks.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I’ve just been busy looking for internships and studying for finals— shit— and these networking events are kicking my ass. They’re like, ‘oh, you need at least 3 years of experience!’ But it’s a fucking entry-level position!” He ranted. Sunghoon smiled softly at the familiar ramblings— at least Jay didn’t change.

“What a tough life you live, Jay.” Sunghoon sighed.

Jay dropped face-first onto his bed with a loud groan, one arm dangling off the side dramatically. “I’m serious, Hoon. If one more recruiter tells me to ‘circle back next semester,’ I’m actually gonna lose it.”

Sunghoon huffed out a quiet laugh from his desk, spinning a mechanical pencil between his fingers. He had chemistry notes spread out in front of him, though he hadn’t processed a single word in the last couple of hours. His brain had been occupied by you since the moment he woke up. “Whatcha doin, man? Homework?” Jay peered over the railings of his bed to look down at Sunghoon’s desk. The younger boy ran his fingers through his silky hair, tilting his head.

“Yeah, just reading the textbook for my Chem discussion. I’m not going to lie, I don’t really understand anything right now…” Sunghoon laughed. The side of Jay’s lips crooked up into a teasing smirk, like he knew something that the other boy didn’t.

“Oh? Chem discussion, huh?”

“What does that mean?” Sunghoon furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. Jay wriggled his eyebrows suggestively, licking at his bottom lip in a weird display that made Sunghoon squirm with discomfort.

“OKAY, don’t tell Jake that I told you this but… he’s been texting me about you and Y/N…” Jay let out, sounding exasperated as if he just lifted a huge weight off his shoulders. Sunghoon raised an eyebrow. He didn’t expect Jay to say this to him, but he was sure that Jake was telling at least some other person about the rapid development of friendship between you and Sunghoon.

“Really? What is he saying?” Sunghoon acted nonchalant, trying to appear relaxed to coax Jay into spilling more. Jay looked around briefly, biting his lip before leaning in closer.

“Okay, basically.. he’s saying that you and Y/N have been hanging out a lot like— one-on-one without him…” Jay excitedly rolled. Sunghoon nodded. “But you know how Jake is– he tried asking Y/N about you and she thought he was acting weird because he sucks at being subtle… so can I ask you about it? Like, are you guys talking or…” The silver-haired boy trailed off awkwardly, waiting for Sunghoon to finish his question.

The raven-haired male tilted his head. “Uhm… I guess so…” he sheepishly replied. What else was he supposed to say? “Nah, I’m actually trying to get my girlfriend back after she died in another universe???”

“I’m happy for you man, really.” The sincerity in Jay’s voice was almost worrisome.

“Oh, uh, thanks, Jay…” Sunghoon smiled awkwardly, unsure how to respond to the genuine pride that Jay had carried in his tone. The silver-haired man nodded, seemingly content before rolling back into bed. But seriously, what the hell did he mean by Chem discussion?

“I never expected you to make the first move, honestly. I heard from Jake that you were the one who initiated your first hangout together, right?” Jay spoke, his eyes glued to the ceiling that had white paint falling off the bone. Sunghoon hummed in agreement, but was getting impatient. Couldn’t Jay get to the point already? “Man, I remember when you first talked about her to me. They grow up so fast,” he continued to ramble, his speech slurring as sleep began hitting him. Sunghoon furrowed his eyebrows. When did he ever talk to him about you?

“Jay, I think I just met the love of my life in Chem discussion!”

Sunghoon froze. He shot up in his seat, nearly tripping as he ran to the side of Jay’s bunk. His fingers curled into the railings protruding from the frame of the bed, his warm skin cooling against the frigid metal material. “What? Jay, what? When did I tell you this?” He rapid-fired at the older boy. Jay yawned, rubbing his eyes.

“Remember? When school started? You went to Chem discussion annoyed with the readings and came back like a lovestruck idiot.”

“What? When school started back in August, Jay?” Sunghoon sputtered out. Jay nodded with another yawn.

“Yeah, man, remember? You woke up so annoyed about all the readings you did, but when you came back you were like, head-over-heels. You said it was love-at-first sight.” Jay snorted quietly at the memory, rubbing sleepily at his eyes. “Dude, it was actually kinda insane. You came back to the dorm and wouldn’t shut up about her.”

Sunghoon stared at him, pulse beginning to pound against his ribs.

“…What did I say?” he asked carefully.

Jay grinned immediately, already amused by the memory. “You were acting crazy, man. Like genuinely gone.” He pushed himself up slightly on his elbows. “Jay, I think I just met the prettiest girl ever. Jay, I think I’m in love. Jay, she smiled at me and I forgot what I was saying!” He exclaimed, trying to imitate Sunghoon’s unique tone.

“You’re exaggerating,” Sunghoon muttered weakly, but his head was slowly began to pound with the thought of him gushing about you before he met you. As if his consciousness existed before he woke up in the past.

“Swear, I’m not.” Jay laughed. Sunghoon’s stomach twisted. “You told me she sat two rows ahead of you during discussion, that she had these little charms hanging off her pencil case, that she kept pushing her hair behind her ear while talking to her discussion group—” He suddenly paused, staring at Sunghoon suspiciously. “Wait, why are you acting like you don’t remember this?”

Sunghoon’s throat tightened immediately. He didn’t. This wasn’t the right beginning or the right way of meeting you. He could’ve excused the minor changes about your preferences, discrepancies in your life, but now there were too many that his head couldn’t keep up. And now, your entire story was beginning to collapse in front of his eyes, through his ears, even if he wasn’t there to experience it.

“I dunno,” he lied quickly. “I think I’m just tired. I– I have a headache…” Sunghoon stumbled to his side of the bed.

Jay looked unconvinced for a second before shrugging. “Well, anyway, after that you started acting weird as hell,” he continued.

“Weird how?”

“You kept dressing up for Chem discussion.” Jay barked out a laugh. “Like suddenly you cared about your appearance. You asked me if your hair looked okay before class.”

Sunghoon nearly recoiled in horror. “I would never ask you that. I always look good.”

Jay furrowed his eyebrows, but barked back accusingly, “You did. And then after discussion ended, you’d come back looking all devastated because you never talked to her.”

Sunghoon’s chest ached strangely. He felt as if he could picture it so vividly. Him sitting in chemistry discussion secretly staring at you. Getting nervous. Fixing his hair in the reflection of his phone screen. Trying to work up the courage to speak to you. Falling in love slowly and naturally without grief or death or memories of a future that already happened clouding every rational thought in his brain.

Jay continued rambling, oblivious to the way Sunghoon’s expression had begun to fall. “And then one day Jake mentioned his hometown friend named Y/N and you literally interrupted him mid-sentence.” Jay laughed harder now, fully awake from recounting the story. “‘Wait— Y/N? Nursing major? Chem discussion on Thursdays?’ Dude, your face was priceless.”

Sunghoon felt sick. He didn’t know you were a nursing major until that fateful night he had seen you in the library. “Oh my god, dude I feel like I’ve been holding this in. Remember the first time you guys talked?” Sunghoon’s heartbeat was thudding loudly in his ears, and he’s sure that they were about to ring. He remained silent, and Jay took it as a sign to keep rambling.

“You said she asked to borrow an EXPO marker during discussion because hers was out of ink or something.” He snorted. “You kept replaying the conversation like a loser, saying that her voice was like descending from the angels.

Sunghoon’s grip tightened around the railing of Jay’s bunk. He agreed, but he wouldn’t ever verbalize is like that so shamelessly. He honestly thought saying something like that was a little corny, and then the realization began to sink in.

He wouldn’t say that. No, not him. Another version of him.

It was then when it dawned about Sunghoon. God, he hadn't even considered the possibility that another version of him existed before he became conscious. But that meant something that Sunghoon didn't even want to even think about considering– some empty timeline where he had conveniently slotted himself into a vacant life, or where he went back into the past two years with just a few butterfly effects changing the outcomes. This universe already had a Park Sunghoon who liked you before future Sunghoon ever woke up here. And Sunghoon had stolen it.

Jay kept talking, unaware of the devastation crawling across Sunghoon’s face, like a spider mapping out its web of a trap. “Then.” Jay cackled. “You literally flopped face-first onto your bed and said– hold on, I remember this exactly–” It seemed like talking about you energized him or woke him up, because he cleared his throat dramatically, trying to imitate Sunghoon’s voice again.

“Jay, I’m actually gonna marry her.’”

Sunghoon’s breath hitched. He had said that before, two years into the future, when he was drunk off two bottles of Original Soju as he was eating barbeque with a much more mature Jay and a burnt-out Jake. He had never brought up marriage before until that night, a few days after you guys moved into your apartment together.

But apparently, this version of him had said it too before any of that happened, even with only knowing your name and that you were Jake’s friend.

Was loving you inevitable in every universe?

Jay blinked suddenly, his teasing grin faltering slightly as he finally noticed how pale Sunghoon looked. “…Hoon?” Sunghoon looked away quickly, swallowing hard. “You okay?”

No. No, he really wasn’t.

Because Sunghoon’s entire world and entire universe was collapsing. His fate was twisting, and the red string that threaded it together was tangling within itself. Was the universe fucking with him now? After giving him so much hope with your presence in his life after losing you? What’s the point of him going back in time if not to reclaim his love story?

Because now, it felt like he was interrupting someone else’s.

“It’s snowing!”

Your voice was cheery, lilted so lightly that it instantly spread a feeling of warmth across Sunghoon’s body despite the cold air penetrating through his heavy puffer. You were both outside the library, about to trek to the convenience store when the sudden weather inclement put a hole through your plans. Delicate snowfall began raining upon the campus, fluttering down beautiful in a flashy array of flakes.

“It is,” he acknowledged, following after your hyper footsteps that began tracing a circle in the translucent sheet of snow that had already fallen onto the ground. You ran around, whooping and cheering as you basked in the icy sensation of snowflakes landing on your skin. Sunghoon could only watched, endeared by how excited and energized you suddenly were.

Suddenly, you ran up to him, burying your open fingers under his arms and around his waist. He laughed, caught off-guard by your abrupt hug, stumbling back a little. “What’s with you, hm?” He softly crooned, wiping your hair out of your face. You smiled up at him, eyes shining despite the overheard dark sky looming over you.

“It’s so pretty, Hoon! I didn’t think it’d snow this year!” You cheerfully exclaimed, eyes curling into crescents as your mouth parted with the sheer excitement coursing through your body. He pulled you in closer on instinct, and you let out a small “oomph!” from the impact of your bodies colliding into a tighter embrace.

“You know what they say, Hoon? If confess during the first snowfall, your love will last forever!” You spoke up. Your speech was murmured, but Sunghoon had heard every word perfectly.

“Yeah? Do you believe in that?” He looked at you fondly. You nodded.

“Sunghoon, I like you so much, let’s go out!”

His mouth fell agape as your confession rang through the snow air. You looked horrified immediately after, but Sunghoon had pulled you in impossibly closer, tight enough to where you almost couldn’t breathe. “Hoon,” you whimpered miserably, hiding your face inside your scarf. “This is so embarrassing…”

“You like me?” he breathed out incredulously before bursting out into laughter. Snowflakes landed in his dark hair as he laughed, falling off as quickly as they came from how hard his body was shaking.

“You’re so mean!” you accused.

“I’m not laughing at you,” he insisted between breaths.

“Then why are you laughing?!”

“You’re just so cute,” Sunghoon confessed, his voice so tender and blossoming with the unsurmountable affection he had for you. “I like you too,” he admitted softly, “ever since I saw you in the dining hall.”

You smiled, but when he blinked, suddenly he was in the middle of his apartment. The cold air dissipated, bringing in the warmth of the heater he left on in the living room. His arms were still wrapped around something, no, someone. No.

Nothing.

His hands clenched around empty air, and the snowfall transformed into the city lights outside of the apartment windows. Your scarf that was in between his fingertips disintegrated into the dust that he never cleaned. Your laughter was still ringing in his ears, so elated and bright and it was mingling with something so sharp jarring annoying–

His ringtone?

The sound grew louder and louder until it drowned out everything else, until your smiling face started blurring at the edges. You were still standing in front of him beneath the snow, cheeks dusted from the cold with flecks of flakes littering your face.

“Hoon?” you laughed softly. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

His phone kept vibrating.

“Hoon?”

The screen lit up across the dark apartment with an unknown number, and under the bold white digits in grey was the name of the university hospital. His breathing turned ragged instantly. His body moved before his brain could catch up, fumbling for the phone with trembling hands. But when he looked back up, you were still there. Snowflakes still landed in your hair. You were still smiling, cheeks puffed up and smile lines indenting your skin.

“I like you too,” he heard himself saying again, the memory replaying against his will. “Ever since I saw you in the dining hall.”

“Hoon?”

But this time your voice sounded farther away. His thumb shook over the accept button, and  when he pressed the green button, everything crashed together all at once, creating a collision in his mind. Your confession beneath the snowfall. Your wet toothbrush beside his in the apartment bathroom. Your warm hand in his while crossing the street. Your cold hand dangling under the white sheet in the morgue. Your voice whispering goodnight. The casket being lowered six feet deep in a hole that seemed too big for you.

Sunghoon doubled over violently, nearly dropping the phone as nausea twisted through him. It felt like someone had reached into his skull and ripped every memory apart before shoving them back in the wrong order. His head was pounding, throbbing violently as each memory churned in his head like butter. Then it curved into a dull ache, static on a television screen. 

“Is this Park Sunghoon?”

And just like that, the snow was gone, and the only cold he felt was the absence of your warm body.

“Sunghoon, you’ve been acting weird lately.”

“Oh, hm?”

Your face was suddenly in front of his, and you had a concerned pout on your lips. “You’ve been zoning out so much, it’s really worrying me… I know it’s just your personality, but you’ve been doing it so much…” You frowned, leaning forward, your shoulders hunching into your sides.

“I’m sorry– there’s– there’s just a lot going on…” He weakly replied. You let out a soft sigh.

“You know you can tell me anything, right? Me or Jake… I care for you a lot, you know. I hope you really know, Hoon…”

Sunghoon forced a tight-lipped smile and nodded. “I know,” he responded, his words sharper than intended. Your eyes were staring right into his, and before, Sunghoon would’ve felt the warmth. But now, all that he felt was the chills that Jay had instilled into his body. You stilled, before pulling away from the conversation, instead opting to grab your straw. Instinctively, he picked it up before you could, punching the plastic out of the wrapper and puncturing your drink for you.

“Oh, thanks Hoon. You really didn’t have to do that.” A sweet giggle escaped your lips, and the sound instantly grounded him.

“It’s not a big deal, let me do these things for you,” he easily said in response, the reply leaving his mouth naturally as it used to do.

“Sunghoon, do you act like this with everyone?” You suddenly asked. He looked at you, confused. “I mean– like, do you always act so sweetly towards everyone? Or is it just me…” you almost seemed embarrassed asking him this. 

“No, it’s just you?” He retorted, as if it was common sense that he would treat only you with the utmost care. Your face was warming up, and he could tell that you were flustered by his response.

“Really? So like, uhm, there’s no other girl that you’re, uhm… acting like this with, right?” Your voice was timid as you asked another question. Sunghoon scoffed, taken aback by how ridiculous your inquiry was. From the future and now in the past, you were the only girl for him, so why were you being so ridiculous now?

“Of course not,” he nearly snapped. He regretted it as soon as he saw your face falter and your posture shrink. No, what was he thinking? You didn’t know that. Of course you would ask. “I’m– I’m sorry. I don’t know what got into me ba…” He trailed off as the nickname nearly slipped from his lips, so naturally that it was like calling you by your name. “Uhm, Y/N. I’m sorry. I think I’m just having a tough week. I promise you.”

You nodded, so patient as always, as you sipped on your drink. “It’s okay, Hoon. I hope things get better.” You smiled. He nodded, biting tentatively into the pastry. He didn’t like this cafe, and he knew that you didn’t like it either, but he didn’t want to ruin your first experience here. He half expected you to actually like the cafe if the past weeks were anything to go by, but he was pleasantly surprised when you instead scrunched your nose.

“This matcha is too milky…” You whispered. He smiled and nodded.

“Yeah? This pastry isn’t too good either. Wanna try?” He lifted up the dessert to your mouth, letting you take a bite right where he had previously taken one. You bit into it, lips curling into disgust.

“Should we just go and toss our stuff somewhere else? I don’t want to waste it, but it’s really not that good…” You whispered. Sunghoon laughed and nodded, holding out his hand. You hesitated, but took it, letting him lead you outside the cafe. You threw your drink and his pastry into the nearby trash can, just as you did before in Sunghoon’s original universe.

“Are you still thirsty? Should we get something from the convenience store instead?” He asked. You shook your head.

“No, I’m okay. Can we just walk a little?” You asked. Sunghoon nodded automatically.

You both began walking side-by-side down the sidewalk, your shoulders occasionally brushing together from how close you were. Autumn had left too soon, now bringing in the frigid weather of winter. The city was quiet, with everyone buried inside of their comforters during the early chilly morning. Some joggers and dog-walkers passed by, but it still only felt like you two were the only ones existing in that peaceful morning atmosphere. For a while, neither of you spoke. Sunghoon shoved a hand into the pocket of his coat while the other was still holding yours. He was trying not to stare at you again, but it was difficult when you were right there beside him, looking so soft beneath clouded skies.

“What I said back in the cafe… you’ve been treating me so differently,” you murmured suddenly. His stomach tightened.

“…Differently how?” He carefully asked back.

You slowed your pace slightly, looking down at the pavement. “I don’t know.” You laughed nervously. “You just… take care of me a lot. I remember when I first met you in Chem discussion, you were so shy. It was like you were scared of me. Then, you started crying in the library when you saw me… and now… it’s like you’re so much more mature than me… Does that make sense?”

“Is that bad?” he asked quietly.

“No– no, of course not. But, I don’t know Hoon. You stare at me… kinda weird,” the words carelessly slipped from your lips, and it was obvious with the way you let out a gasp and a flurry of apologies, before stumbling onto what you mean to say. “God, that’s not what I meant–! I meant… I don’t know. Like you take care of me so naturally, and you seem to already have a good sense of like–” you laughed nervously, rubbing at your face in embarrassment, “I don’t think you’re weird or anything, Hoon. I actually really like how caring you are.” Your voice softened at the end. “It’s just…” You slowed to a stop beneath the awning of a closed convenience store, your joined hands swinging slightly between your bodies.

Sunghoon turned toward you quietly, and you looked conflicted, with your mouth screwed and lips pressing up against each other so hard that the skin was jutting out uncomfortably. “Sometimes I think you’re so confident about knowing me that you forget there are still parts of me you don’t know yet? Is that too deep?” His chest tightened instantly, and he inhaled before he knew it, trying to regain the breath that you had just knocked out of him.

You kept talking before you lost the courage. “Like… you always know what I need before I say it. Like when I’m cold, when I’m tired, when I’m not feeling well…” You smiled faintly. “And it makes me really happy. It does.”

“But?” He pressed on, trying his best to hide his impatience.

“But sometimes it also feels like you’ve already decided who I am, in a way? Like, you seem to expect something differently than what I give you, Hoon. And sometimes…” you continued hesitantly, “I’ll say something that surprises you, and you get this look on your face like I said the wrong thing or something– and it’s kind of… okay, I’ll be honest, it’s kinda weird…” You laughed again, and the noise seemed like it was punched out of you like a soundboard.

“Like, you always try to guess what I like or what I don’t like or what I prefer– and at first I thought it was endearing, but it’s almost always wrong. And that’s fine, I guess. But sometimes you sound so confident that it’s– I dunno. That’s why I asked if there was another girl. Like, I don’t know, are you thinking of someone else?” You breathed out.

No, no, no, never. He always thought of you. He could never stop thinking about you. He inhaled and opened his mouth, wanting to defend himself, but you sputtered out something else so rushed like you were forcing it out of your throat, “I– I really want you to know me, Hoon.”

Sunghoon wanted to throw up. He had spent so much time trying to preserve the memory of the girl he lost that he had started overlooking the girl standing right in front of him. His skin was itching with the lovebugs crawling up it. He felt selfish. And suddenly, the image of him, nerdy and lanky and gushing to Jay with a flush on his pale cheeks struck his mind, hitting him bluntly on his noggin.

His fingers loosened around your hand before tightening again like he was afraid you’d disappear if he let go completely. You looked nervous after your confession, eyes darting away from your intertwined hands immediately. “Sorry,” you laughed weakly. “That sounded way harsher than I meant it to.”

“No,” Sunghoon answered as soon as you stopped speaking, his voice coming out rough. “No, you’re right.” Your eyebrows furrowed slightly. He looked away before he could see your expression fully. “You’re right,” he repeated quieter this time. 

I really want you to know me. Not her. No. You? This version of you, the one standing beside him now. He looked at you, but was met with the sight of your side profile. The side profile that belonged to the same woman who he met at the dining hall, who moved in with him, who cooked him soup in the shared kitchen when he fell sick– memories hit him so violently he almost staggered, and he couldn’t tell where the lines were anymore.

Your favorite drink, your laugh, your habits. Were they yours? Hers? Was he loving you because you were you, or because he was desperately trying to keep the you that he remembered, alive?

Sunghoon felt sick. He felt saliva rapidly rise under the muscle of his tongue, and he kept swallowing and swallowing to keep it down. He felt like he was going to throw up.

“Hoon?” Your voice softened instantly at the sight of his face. Concern replaced your apprehension immediately. 

“You don’t have to apologize,” he muttered. You blinked. “You were honest.” He swallowed hard, nearly gasping for air as he opened his mouth to speak. “I think… I needed to hear it.” Your expression slowly softened, though puzzlement still lingered behind your eyes. Sunghoon stared down at the pavement.

For the first time since waking up two years in the past, his brain turned to mush, soft enough to let a thought penetrate his mind that he had been avoiding. Was loving you here ever supposed to be about getting his old life back with you? What was he here for? Images of him– not him, the him that you knew, came crawling back into his neurons.

Things wouldn’t have been like this if he had come. You and the right Sunghoon could’ve been where he was. The guilt began creeping down his throat and accumulating in his chest, weighing down his lungs with every shortened breath he took in.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, though he wasn’t sure who he was apologizing to anymore. To you? To the girl he loved in the future? To himself? Or the other version of himself that he was living through?

You shifted slightly beside him, worry crossing your expression. “Hoon…? Sunghoon…?” You quietly spoke up, hesitant as your palm gently brought itself up to cup his cheek. He instinctively leaned into your warmth, but squirmed as his face rested in his palm. The ink of his guilt began to spread further as if his body was just dipped into water. He tightened his grip on your hand again on instinct, but it felt wrong, like was still trying to anchor himself into an ocean with waves that were too crashing upon each other.

“I didn’t…” his voice broke. “I didn’t mean to–” He couldn’t even finish the sentence. What was he trying to say? What was he even freaking out for, apologizing for? Because as much as he wracked his brain, he couldn’t grasp onto an answer still. For loving you wrong? For loving another version of you? For erasing you because you were right here, all alive and happy and oblivious? Sunghoon exhaled sharply, almost choking on it.

His hand finally loosened. “…I’m sorry,” he said again, but softer this time. You gently stroked his face with your thumb.

“Hoon, please don’t cry on me again.” You tried to lighten the mood. His eyes were shimmering with tears that built up in his ducts, but he simply shook his head, whispering out another apology.

“I’m not okay,” he admitted finally. You flinched, and the honesty honestly surprised him too, but you didn’t pull away. You just continued to comfort him, just as you always would. No. Sunghoon closed his eyes for a second. He shouldn’t think like this anymore. When he opened them again, he was looking at you. Just you, standing there, as you were.

“I think…” His voice cracked slightly, so he paused, forcing air back into his lungs. “I think I’ve been… confusing things.” Your expression softened, but you didn’t interrupt. “I thought I came back to something I lost,” he continued vaguely, “But I think I’ve just been standing in front of someone I never took the time to understand.”

His feelings felt like it finally had somewhere to go, not onto you, or even to him, but somewhere where Sunghoon couldn’t reach. It felt freeing, unraveling a tight knot of emotions that he didn’t have the energy to release before. Your hand lowered, as if drawn to pull off of his face. He let go of your other hand, finally loosening his grip.

“So then let me help you,” you whispered. His heart dropped. “Hoon…” Your voice trembled slightly now, heavy with the weight of the emotions pulsating between the both of you. “I know you’re confused right now, but I–"

He already knew what you were going to say, because you had the same hopeful look on your face that fateful winter night when you confessed under the snowfall. And before, selfishly, he would’ve let you. He would’ve let you pour out his feelings to him, accept them as easy as reciting ABC, and live without the burdens of the future weighing him down.

But this time, the words felt too important to take from you and from the other him that had been waiting for you.

“…Don’t,” he whispered. The hurt on your face was immediate, and he had to will himself to not take back his words. “No, no– not like that,” he corrected quickly, voice cracking. “I just… I don’t think I’m ready to hear it yet.” Snowy breath escaped your lips slowly into the cold air. “You deserve someone who can listen to you properly,” he said quietly. “Someone who can know you for who you are now. And I don’t think…” He inhaled shakily. “I don’t think I’ve been doing that.”

“Hoon…” You softly spoke up, but he interrupted you as soon as your mouth opened.

“I want to,” he admitted immediately. “I really do.” He wasn’t lying. Every part of him still wanted to hear you confess, to keep you close, to selfishly pretend like nothing was wrong. But loving you like this was beginning to feel cruel, so instead, he took a small step back.

“Will you…” He paused. “Will you meet me again another time?”

Your expression crumpled slightly in confusion. “When?” You whimpered. Sunghoon pondered for a moment, before he felt like he found the right answer.

“When I’m finally able to see only you.” He smiled. He had walked you back to your dorm, letting the silence loom over the both of you. He left you with an adjustment to your scarf and an endearing pat on your head.

That night, when he slept, he dreamt of your funeral.

The sky had been gray that day, with cumulonimbus clouds blocking any trace of sun. Just as your death had obstructed the access to the light of his life. People were crying around him. Jake had been sobbing openly beside Jay, shoulders shaking violently as he kept wiping at his face with trembling fingers, but Sunghoon remembered standing there completely still.

He hadn’t believed it yet.

Even as your framed photograph sat in front the altar. Even as your parents bowed their heads. Even as people whispered about how young you were. Even when he received consolations from everyone, telling him about how much you loved him. He remembered thinking absurdly as he stared at your altar.

How could you look so happy when his entire world had just ended?

The question echoed through the dream as Sunghoon stood frozen before your altar. Then slowly, memory after memory began surfacing around him. The first night you basked in your love after moving into your apartment, cuddling together so tightly that separating you guys would’ve been like pulling magnets apart. The night where you comforted him after his research symposium when he felt like he was the biggest failure in the world. The mundane moments where you laughed at him after burning rice and the soft moments where you whispered “I love you” so much that it was like you were reaching a quota.

The memories came so quickly that they stopped hurting individually. Instead, they melted together into something warm and alive. And suddenly, Sunghoon understood something he had been too devastated to realize before, that your death wasn’t the biggest thing about you. Your life was.

Not the funeral or grief, but just you as you were. The way you smiled, laughed, cried, and loved. The way you existed so brightly that even now, after death, you still filled every corner of him. Tears finally slipped down his face in the dream, but he wasn’t drowning in them anymore.

And standing there in the stuffy funeral home, Sunghoon quietly laughed to himself. “You’d be so mad that everyone’s crying this much,” he murmured. And he could hear the echoes of your voice scolding him for being so torn up when he should be moving onto better things because he was so young (just as you were.) The thought made him smile through his tears. Your memory no longer felt like a wound splitting open inside him. It felt like hands pressed gently around his heart. 

And when Sunghoon finally opened his eyes, he was no longer standing in the funeral home. He was home, in his apartment. Morning light filtered weakly through the curtains, warm gold spilling across hardwood floors and untouched, uncleaned furniture. The silence was familiar now. It wasn’t as sharp and reverberating against emptiness like it used to be, but quiet in the way winter mornings were quiet.

For a long moment, he just layed on the couch. The blanket you used to complain about because it “shed fuzz everywhere” was still draped over his body. One of your hair ties still sat around his wrist from weeks ago. The apartment still carried traces of you in every corner, soft remnants of a life that had once intertwined with his so naturally that even death couldn’t fully unravel it. Sunghoon slowly sat up after a while. For the first time since you died, the ache in his chest did not immediately make him want to chase after you. It only made him miss you.

A framed photo caught his eye from across the room. A snippet of a beach date where you both were smothered in sand and shattered seashells. He remembered that day now without feeling like his ribs were caving inward. He remembered it and smiled.

The sunlight continued pouring into the apartment little by little, warming spaces that had long felt frozen over. Sunghoon looked toward the empty side of the couch beside him. Then quietly, he whispered your name into the stillness, but for the first time, it wasn’t a plea to the Heavens. 

Winter took you from him, and Sunghoon spent the cold months treating his grief like something sacred, afraid that healing meant betraying you. But Spring came quietly, melting ice from sidewalks and blooming flowers through the cracks, and he finally learned that acceptance didn't mean loving you less.

You’ve been having strange dreams lately.

They felt so vivid, so clear to your vision that it felt like you could reach out and touch them. In these dreams, Jake’s cute nerdy friend, Sunghoon, was in them. He was in all of them, actually.

Visions of Sunghoon and you, on a date sipping on cola floats together. Visions of you both curled up in the library cubicle, giggling and sharing secrets instead of being productive. But oddly enough, he wasn’t wearing his thick-rimmed glasses and features grew into a more mature version, with a stronger jawline and deeper eyes. In these dreams, you could see the warmth in his eyes, hear the sounds of his soft laughter, and feel the intimacy of his affection.

Sometimes, the dreams were absurdly specific. Like mundane captures of you both arguing in the grocery store over what meat to buy, snapshots of an apartment you’ve never stepped foot in, and images that you don’t remember taking.  Sometimes, the dreams hurt. They echoed with the sound of anguished cries that made your chest ache when you woke up, made you feel empty like something was hollow from inside and like you were missing something that mattered so dearly yet you couldn’t remember. 

All he was to you was a boy in your Chem discussion and Jake’s close friend, so why did your dreams think differently, as if he was the most important person in your life?

You went to the library one night with Jake, and Sunghoon came later, only to end up crying as soon as he saw you. And for some reason, your heart signaled to your mind that, maybe he was, for some reason, because your chest began to ache with an odd sense of familiarity and endearance. So, it was only natural that you began to form a crush on him. But sometimes, your feelings felt deeper than just a mere crush, as if your feelings had roots that stretched somewhere your thoughts couldn’t reach.

You began hanging out with Sunghoon so much that you barely saw Jake anymore. Not that the Australian boy complained– after all, he was too busy trying to survive whatever war engineering majors had to go through that he didn’t even have time to hang anymore. But the more frequent your hangouts were, the more frequent the dreams were. You dreamt of tiny domestic things, like him stealing bites of your food and folding laundry terribly while you laughed at him. Falling asleep on his shoulder during movie nights. Listening to him hum quietly in the kitchen while making late-night ramen.

Eventually, you stopped trying to suppress what your heart already accepted. You liked him. (Maybe too much for someone you technically barely knew.)

So when the wintry season hit its peak, you saw Sunghoon again after texting him to meet you near the cafe where he initially rejected you. You both still hung out, but after that morning when you failed to confess properly, he seemed different. He looked lighter and full of life. Before, he seemed like a shell that was carrying an invisible burden that you couldn’t begin to understand. But now, he acted naively, as if there was nothing in the world that could dare drag him down.

“Hoon?” you called softly. He turned toward you immediately, expression warming the second he saw you approach. He smiled widely and adjusted his glasses. It was obvious he took some time to look good, with his hair styled up and his fashion seemingly taken from another closet. (Jay’s, you presumed. You heard his roommate had good fashion taste.)

“Hey, Y/N! Why did you want to meet me here?” He asked cheerfully.

You smiled as your fingers tightened around the straps of your bag before you finally blurted, “I’ve been having dreams about you.” His expression froze, and his eyebrows knitted together so adorably. You swallowed hard as you continued abruptly, realizing how bad that could’ve sounded. “Not wet dreams– shit, I mean, like– They’re weirdly specific. Like… really specific.” You laughed awkwardly. “Like dreams of us. Together. Dating…” You shyly trailed off.

Sunghoon stared at you silently, kindly waiting for you to finish as he listened intently.  “And sometimes,” your voice softened, “they’re sad.” Something flickered painfully across his face. You continued carefully, “In one of them, you were crying. Really badly.” Your chest tightened at the memory. “And I remember thinking that I wanted to comfort you more than anything, like that day you cried to me in the library…”

The breeze carried the scent of frost between you both. Sunghoon’s eyes began glossing over as he watched you, looking conflicted and a bit more confused. “I don’t really understand why this is happening.” You smiled faintly despite your nerves. “So…” You laughed softly.

“Maybe this is crazy, but I think I like you, Park Sunghoon. Do you want to go out with me?” You shyly asked. His mouth fell agape as his eyes widened.

“You– You like me? Like me, as in Park Sunghoon?” He sputtered out in disbelief, pointing a gloved hand at himself. You giggled and nodded.

“Yes, you idiot,” you laughed, cheeks warming from how genuinely stunned he looked. “How many Park Sunghoons do you think I know?” You teased, tilting your head to the right. His lips parted as stutters spilled from them unintentionally. And then, to your complete shock, his eyes immediately began watering.

“H-Hoon?” you gasped. “Oh my god, are you crying again?!”

“A– Again? When did I– snnfffh– When did I ever cry in front of you?” He choked out, sniffling away the snot that began to run down his philtrum, his voice cracking into two. He ripped his glasses off quickly, furiously wiping at his eyes with the sleeve of his sweater. You burst into laughter at how offended he sounded despite the tears visibly collecting on his lashes. Sunghoon groaned softly under his breath, embarrassed, before hiding his face behind one hand.

“This is so humiliating,” he muttered miserably, “Yes– God, a million times yes– I want to go out with you. Please go out with me,” his voice curved into a plea. You giggled, slotting your body into his to form a warm lock of an embrace.

You looked up at him, and it began to snow.

Being an OB-GYN means your life rarely follows a normal schedule.

Most nights are spent awake. On call, in delivery rooms, watching life come into the world one patient at a time. It’s exhausting, relentless… but familiar. Somewhere along the way, the chaos became routine.

You barely notice how late it’s gotten anymore.

The quiet scratch of your pen against paper is suddenly interrupted by a soft clink.

Then a cup of coffee appears beside you.

You pause, eyes shifting from the chart to the cup, then upward to the person who placed it there.

Park Sunghoon.

Four years of working in the same hospital, and he still has a way of showing up without a sound. White coat neat as ever, expression calm in that almost unreadable way of his. He works as a neurosurgeon, precise, composed, and annoyingly consistent.

“Night shift again?” he asks, already pulling a chair a few steps away before sitting down.

You lean back slightly, exhaling as you close the file in front of you. "Yeah, I wasn't able to finish these in one go so I had to switch schedules with Dr. Choi."

“I get it,” Sunghoon replies, offering a small, understanding smile. “There are days when I end up doing the same thing too.”

“Well, thanks for the coffee, I really needed this,” you say, taking a sip. You pause, then look up at him surprised. “You even remembered my order?”

Sunghoon simply purses his lips and shrugs, as if it were nothing, before reaching for his own cup. “You’re welcome.” Just as he’s about to say more, his phone vibrates.

“They need me there. I guess I’ll see you later.” He stands from his chair and lightly pats your shoulder before heading toward the door.

You glance at the cup of coffee in your hands, a small frown forming. You’d only been to the café together twice: once three months ago, and again just two weeks ago. How could he have memorized my order?

A warm feeling slowly blooms in your chest as you think about Sunghoon and his sudden thoughtfulness.

It reminds you of a time when your feelings for him were harder to ignore. Back during your first week working together, when he introduced himself as the newly hired neurosurgeon. What started as simple admiration gradually turned into something more.

Those feelings lasted for an entire year. But between the long hours, the need to stay professional, and your own reluctance to risk it all, you chose to bury them. You kept telling yourself that workplace romance should be avoided, that work always comes first, and that romance simply wasn’t worth the risk. Eventually, you convinced yourself that being nothing more than co-workers was for the best.

You shake your head, snapping yourself out of your thoughts. “Why am I suddenly thinking about the past?” you murmur under your breath. “He probably just has a really good memory.”

With that, you turn back to your work, forcing the lingering warmth in your chest to fade.

ᯓ★ ݁˖

Sunghoon, who was on his way to a patient’s room after leaving you alone in the doctors’ lounge, caught himself smiling slightly, especially when he recalled the look of surprise on your face when you realized he had remembered your order.

Back then, he hadn’t paid much attention to you. He hadn’t gone out of his way to learn the little things. Like how you took your coffee or whether you preferred something sweet on the side. But ever since that small hangout with you and a few co-workers three months ago, something had shifted. A quiet curiosity about you had begun to grow.

It wasn’t just because you were one of the best rookie OB-GYNs the hospital had seen. It was also the way you cared for others, not just your patients, but people in general.

ᯓ★ ݁˖

Three months ago…

As the rest of the group prepared to leave the café, you lingered behind, glancing at your phone as if you had just remembered something.

“I just remembered I need to buy something before I go. You guys go ahead,” you told Chaewon, your friend. She nodded, calling out a quick goodbye before catching up with the others.

Once they were gone, you stepped back towards the counter and ordered two croissants and a bottle of water. After paying, you hurried outside, scanning the area as if looking for someone.

What you didn’t realize was that Sunghoon had stayed behind. He had gone to the restroom just before everyone left, assuming he’d catch up with the group afterward.

As he stepped out and dried his hands, he paused when he spotted you still there. From inside the café, he watched as you approached a beggar and a small child sitting near the parking lot.

You crouched down to their level, handing them the food you had just bought. A gentle smile spread across your face as you spoke to them softly, though he couldn’t hear the words. After a moment, you gave a small wave before turning to leave.

Sunghoon stood there a little longer than he meant to, quietly processing what he had just seen. Something about that moment stayed with him. The sincerity, the kindness, the way you did it without expecting anything in return.

It made him realize that maybe you were more than just a co-worker he had known for years.

And somehow, from that day on, he found himself paying closer attention.

──────────────────────────────

The elevator doors slid shut with a soft chime, sealing you into the quiet hum of fluorescent light and mirrored steel.

You pressed your back lightly against the wall, exhaling through your nose as the display above the doors blinked from floor to floor. The senior doctor’s message still lingered in your mind: Come to my office. I need to introduce you to someone.

The elevator slowed briefly at the 5th floor, then continued upward. You checked your watch out of habit, fingers tapping once against your coat sleeve.

Just then, the doors opened with a gentle ding. You looked around to find out nobody there, until your eyes caught movement at the far end of the corridor.

A familiar figure stood just outside the elevator’s reach, hands tucked into his white coat pockets, posture relaxed in a way that somehow still looked presentable. Sunghoon.

He nods slightly when he sees you inside, stepping into the empty space beside you. He presses the button, and the elevator doors slide shut with a soft chime.

“Busy today?” he asks, breaking the silence a few seconds after stepping in.

“Not really. I just need to meet with the senior doctor.”

“Oh? How come?” he asks, a hint of surprise flashing across his face. It’s rare for either of you to be called in, usually only for major announcements or worse, bad news. So when you first read the message, you had been just as puzzled.

You shrug lightly. “I’m not entirely sure. She did mention introducing someone, though. Maybe a new employee.”

Sunghoon nods, taking that in.

“How about you?” you ask, turning to him. “Anything big happening today?”

“Actually, I have a procedure at 5 pm,” he says casually.

You instinctively glance at your watch. “That’s in thirty minutes.”

"I know." Sunghoon replied. "You don't seem like you're in a rush." You replied, noticing his chill attitude.

"Well it's a minor one. Just a lumbar puncture, won't take long." He says, seeing your expression.

“Huh… that’s your version of minor?” You mutter, brows lifting slightly as you look at him.

Sunghoon lets out a quiet breath, almost a huff of amusement, barely there. “You just get used to it.”

You shake your head, a small smile tugging at your lips despite yourself. “Still sounds intense.”

“It’s routine,” he says simply, like that alone should settle it. And somehow, coming from him, it almost does.

The elevator hums softly as it slows, the numbers above the door blinking once before stopping.

Your floor.

The doors slide open.

You hesitate for only a second, then shift your weight forward, stepping out into the hallway. Before fully turning away, you glance back at him.

“Good luck, Sunghoon.”

He meets your gaze, calm as ever. “I don't need it.”

That almost makes you scoff, but instead you just exhale a small laugh. “Still, good luck.”

The doors begin to close behind you.

And just before they shut completely, you catch it, the smallest hint of a smile on his face, gone just as quickly as it appears.

You walk straight to the end of the hallway, where the senior doctor’s office is located.

Stopping in front of the door, you knock three times. A voice from inside calls, “Come in.”

Taking the cue, you twist the doorknob open and step inside. Dr. Lim stands near her desk, a folder in hand. Beside her is a young man with sharp, cat-like eyes, standing straight with quiet composure.

You close the door behind you and walk toward them.

“Dr. Kang,” the senior doctor says, closing the file in her hand, “This is Jungwon, a newly assigned resident. He’ll be rotating in OB-GYN under your supervision.”

You turn your attention to him just as he steps forward, extending his hand. “Pleased to meet you, Dr. Kang.”

You shake his hand without hesitation, offering a small, welcoming smile. “Nice to meet you too, Jungwon. Welcome to the OB-GYN department.”

He smiles back, his expression calm and professional, no trace of nervousness in sight.

“Alright,” Dr. Lim continues smoothly, already reaching for another document on her desk. “Jungwon, you’ll report to Dr. Kang starting today. She’ll orient you with the ward and your responsibilities.”

Jungwon nods. “Understood, ma’am.”

The senior doctor looks up once more, this time addressing both of you. “OB-GYN is a demanding department. I expect discipline and clear communication. Dr. Kang, he’s your responsibility during this rotation.”

You give a small nod in acknowledgment.

Dr. Lim leans back slightly, signaling the end of the meeting. “Now that’s settled. You may go.”

You turn first, straightening your posture as you head for the door. Jungwon follows a step behind, attentive.

Once you’re outside in the hallway, you turn to face him.

“First things first,” you say, folding your arms lightly. “Call me by my first name, Y/N. No ‘Dr. Kang.’ It makes me feel older than I am.”

Jungwon lets out a small chuckle. “Got it. Y/N it is.”

“As Dr. Lim mentioned, I’ll be your supervisor for the duration of your rotation in OB-GYN,” you continue. “Since it’s your first day, I’ll give you a quick tour of the facilities so you can start familiarizing yourself.”

You gesture forward. “Let’s go.”

The two of you head towards the elevator. “The OB-GYN department is on the third floor,” you add, pressing the button.

When the doors open, you’re greeted by the nurses’ station. The nurses on duty look up from their desks.

“Good afternoon, Dr. Kang,” they greet in unison.

“Good afternoon,” you reply with a polite nod before turning slightly to Jungwon. “This is Jungwon, our new resident. He’ll be working here starting today.”

Jungwon smiles and greets them, and they return the gesture warmly.

You lead him down the left hallway lined with patient rooms. “This is where admitted patients stay, postpartum mothers, as well as those recovering from surgery,” you explain. “The rooms along the right hallway are mainly for regular check-ups and consultations.”

“And over here…” you continue, walking towards the far end where a large door with glass panels stands. “…is the Labor, Delivery, and Recovery Room. LDR for short.”

You push the door open just enough to step inside and the shift is immediate.

A strained breath cuts through the air, followed by a low cry. A patient grips the bed rails, her knuckles pale, while a nurse guides her breathing with steady reassurance.

“Active labor,” you say calmly as you step further in. “This is where things start to pick up.”

Jungwon stays close behind you, noticeably quieter now, his eyes taking everything in.

A monitor beside the bed beeps steadily, then suddenly dips. The nurse straightens. “Doctor, heart rate’s dropping.”

Before the tour can even pause, you’re already moving.

“Position her to the left,” you instruct, your tone calm but firm. “Give her oxygen.” The room shifts instantly, quick hands, precise movements, controlled urgency.

The patient gasps, her eyes squeezed shut as another contraction hits. You glance at the monitor. Then steady again, as the beeping evens out.

“Good,” you murmur, stepping back as if it were second nature. “Keep monitoring.”

“Yes, doctor.”

The tension doesn’t disappear, but it eases just enough. You turn back to Jungwon, your expression composed.

“It can change that fast,” you say simply. “You learn to respond before it becomes a problem.”

He nods, still processing what he just witnessed.

“Come on,” you add, already heading for the door. “Let’s continue.”

“On the opposite end,” you say, pointing down the hallway, “is the operating room.”

You walk in that direction, with Jungwon following closely behind.

You push the operating room doors open, and a wave of sterile, cool air greets you as you step inside.

Bright overhead lights reflect off stainless steel instruments neatly arranged on trays. The operating table sits at the center, surrounded by monitors and machines humming quietly in the background.

“Procedures like cesarean sections and gynecologic surgeries are done here,” you explain, your voice steady as it echoes slightly in the room. “And when things don’t go as planned…”

You pause for a brief moment, your gaze flicking toward the operating table.

“…that is where we take over.”

ᯓ★ ݁˖

The tour continues as you guide Jungwon through the rest of the facility, from the ultrasound rooms to the examination areas, and finally to the newborn units. You explain each section with ease, answering his occasional questions, barely noticing how quickly time slips by.

It isn’t until you glance at your watch that you pause.

“Oh, it’s already 6 pm,” you say, a little surprised. “Perfect timing. My shift ends now, and since I’ve already shown you around the entire OB-GYN department, we can both head home.”

“Wait, really?” Jungwon asks, clearly caught off guard.

You nod. “Yes. Once I leave, there won’t be anyone to supervise you anyway. And since it’s your first day, I’ll let you off early this time. Your real work starts tomorrow.”

“Ah…” Jungwon exhales in relief, a small grin forming. “I’ll be ready by then,” he assures you, determination settling into his expression.

“Good to hear,” you reply with a faint smile. “Well, I’ll get going now. See you tomorrow, Jungwon.”

“See you, Doc,” he says.

You give him a small wave before leaving.

ᯓ★ ݁˖

After gathering your things, you take the elevator down to the underground parking area. The space is quieter now, the hum of engines and distant footsteps echoing faintly. You spot your car a short distance away and walk towards it, pressing your key fob to unlock it.

Sliding into the driver’s seat, you place your bag on the passenger side and reach for the ignition.

You turn the key.

Click.

Nothing.

You try again.

Click. Click.

The engine doesn’t turn over.

A faint frown forms as you attempt a few more times, but the sound only grows weaker until the car falls completely silent and unresponsive.

"Unbelievable,” you mutter, letting your forehead rest briefly against the steering wheel.

You sigh, leaning back as frustration settles in. Your eyes drift to your bag beside you.

“How am I supposed to go home now...”

ᯓ★ ݁˖

A few minutes later, you find yourself standing outside the hospital entrance, arms folded loosely as you scan the road.

You decided to take a cab instead, but even after waiting for several minutes, none stop. The few that passed by are already occupied, their headlights briefly illuminating you before disappearing down the street.

You shift your weight, glancing down the road again, hoping the next one will finally be empty.

Then, a sleek silver BMW pulls up in front of you, the engine purring softly as the window rolls down.

You look over to see who it is.

Sunghoon sits behind the wheel, one hand resting loosely on it while the other drapes over the passenger seat’s headrest, his posture relaxed.

“Need a ride home?” he asks.

“I—”

Before you can even answer, he leans over and pushes the passenger door open. That leaves you with little room to refuse.

You step in, closing the door gently behind you.

Settling into the passenger seat, you sit a little stiffly, your gaze fixed on the window beside you.

It’s your first time riding in a car alone with him, something you never really imagined would happen. And not just any car, but his.

For a moment, the air inside feels thick with unspoken tension. Neither of you says anything, the quiet stretching just a bit too long.

After a while, Sunghoon clears his throat, breaking the silence. “So… what happened to your car?”

You turn slightly to look at him. “The battery died. I’ve been so busy these past few weeks that I forgot to get it replaced.”

“I see.” He nods once. “How long were you waiting out there?”

“About twenty minutes,” you reply.

“Good thing I saw you then,” he says, a faint chuckle slipping through. “You looked like you were about to lose your patience.”

You let out a small laugh. “Honestly, I was. And thank you, by the way. If you hadn’t shown up, I probably would’ve ended up walking home.”

That earns another quiet hum of amusement from him.

After that, the conversation fades, but this time, the silence feels different. Softer. Easier. The low hum of the engine and the faint music playing on the radio fill the space comfortably.

For once, it isn’t awkward.

The car slows to a stop at a red light. Sunghoon glances your way, his expression unreadable but calm. “You hungry?”

“I think I’m good,” you reply, but almost immediately, your stomach betrays you with a low rumble. Shit.

You freeze for a second, suddenly remembering that you skipped lunch earlier, too distracted and a little too nervous about the senior doctor’s message.

Sunghoon lets out a quiet laugh at the sound. “Let’s grab something to eat,” he says, already easing his foot back on the gas as the light turns green. “My treat.”

You don’t argue.

ᯓ★ ݁˖

A few minutes later, you find yourselves at a casual Italian fast-food restaurant. The warm lighting and soft chatter from other customers make the place feel cozy despite the rush hour.

You scan the area and spot a small booth tucked into the corner. “There,” you say, heading towards it.

You slide into the seat while Sunghoon remains standing beside the table. “What would you like to eat?” he asks.

“I think pasta’s fine,” you answer.

He nods. “Alright. I’ll order for us. Just wait here, okay?”

“Okay.”

You watch as he walks toward the counter, joining the short line. For a moment, you find yourself absentmindedly observing him the way he stands, calm and composed even in something as simple as ordering food.

A few minutes later, he returns carrying a tray.

He sets a plate of pasta in front of you, his lasagna beside it, then hands you your drink.

“And this one’s for you,” he adds, placing a slice of pizza next to your plate.

You blink, confused. “I didn’t order that.”

He sits across from you, completely unfazed. “I did. I figured the pasta wouldn’t be enough since you’re hungry.”

You cough lightly, feeling your cheeks warm. “Oh… uh, thank you.”

You start eating, your gaze fixed anywhere but him. Somehow, the earlier ease from the car ride has shifted again, replaced by a quiet, awkward tension.

You never really imagined this. Sitting across from him, sharing a meal like this. It almost feels unreal, like something out of place in your usual routine.

You can feel his gaze on you, subtle but unmistakable.

“What happened with the senior doctor earlier?” he asks, snapping you out of your thoughts.

You look up, surprised, but your shoulders relax now that the conversation has shifted. “She introduced me to a new resident,” you explain. “He’ll be under my supervision.”

Sunghoon nods, taking a bite of his food.

“His name’s Jungwon,” you continue, twirling your pasta with your fork. “From what I’ve seen so far, he has potential. He wasn’t nervous at all, even when we went to the LDR earlier.”

“That’s good,” Sunghoon says. “At least he seems passionate from the start.”

You nod, but then the thought that’s been lingering in your mind resurfaces. You hesitate just for a second before speaking.

“Sunghoon… can I ask you something?” He looks up. “Sure.”

“Not to sound rude or anything, but why are you suddenly talking to me?” you ask, your voice softer now. “I mean… we’ve been co-workers for four years, and this is the first time you’ve bought me coffee or talked to me for more than ten minutes.”

For a brief moment, he looks genuinely caught off guard. His eyes widen slightly, and a faint blush creeps up to his ears as he scratches the back of his neck. “That’s… uh…”

"I just thought that I've been so shy these past years that I don't get to socialize with my co-workers that much. You know, I just recently became close with that dermatologist, Kim Sunoo." He replied.

You nodded, a small smile forming. “That’s good to hear. I remember you skipped the Christmas party for two years straight. It’s nice to see you stepping out of your comfort zone.”

He smiles back. “I guess it is.”

The conversation drifts into something lighter after that, and before you realize it, dinner is over.

ᯓ★ ݁˖

Soon enough, you’re back in his car, this time parked in front of your apartment building.

You unbuckle your seatbelt, turning slightly towards him. “Thank you for the ride, Sunghoon. And for the food.”

He smiles softly. “Don’t mention it. If you ever need a ride home, you can just call me.”

You stopped. “But… I don’t have your number.”

“Here.” He unlocks his phone and hands it to you. You take it, typing your number into his contacts before handing it back. “There.”

You step out of the car, the cool night air brushing against your skin. “Goodnight, Sunghoon,” you say, closing the door halfway and then you heard him speak, “Goodnight, Y/N.”

You pause for just a moment before shutting the door completely, the sound echoing softly in the quiet street.

Later that night, as you lie in bed, staring up at the ceiling, your mind drifts back to everything that happened.

The coffee. The car ride. Dinner.

Him.

Your heart beats a little faster, your cheeks warming at the memories.

Those feelings you buried years ago? They’re being dug up by none other than Park Sunghoon himself.

──────────────────────────────

Three weeks after that dinner with Sunghoon, the two of you have grown noticeably more comfortable around each other. He even picked you up from your apartment the morning after that night, insisting so you wouldn’t have to take the subway to work.

And now, you’re back in the thick of it. Endless patients, heavy workloads, night shifts, deadlines, and back-to-back surgeries taking up most of your time.

“Doc, I’m done with my rounds for now,” Jungwon says, appearing beside you while you’re busy taking a patient’s blood pressure.

You finish up, offering the patient a small reassuring smile before noting down the readings on the chart.

“Good,” you say, turning to him. “I want you to check on Baby Jung in the newborn unit. When I assessed the baby earlier this morning, the condition was a bit unstable. If that continues, report back to me so we’ll coordinate with the Pediatrics Department.”

“You got it.” Jungwon gives a quick salute before turning to leave.

“Oh, and Jungwon,” you call out just as he’s a few steps away. “Don’t forget the dessert you promised me for lunch.”

He chuckles, glancing back. “Of course, Doc. See you at the cafeteria later.”

Over the past three weeks, you and Jungwon have also grown closer, spending nearly every day working side by side. You’re grateful to have someone to share the hectic schedules and overwhelming workload with as it makes everything feel just a little lighter.

You grab the clipboard with your patient records and head towards the elevator. Your phone vibrates in your pocket, and you pull it out, about to read the message but you bumped into someone.

The impact causes the clipboard to slip from your hands, papers scattering across the floor.

“Oh my, I’m so sorry!” a voice says quickly.

You crouch down to gather the papers, the other person doing the same.

As you pick them up and glance up, a nurse you don’t recognize hands you a few sheets. “Here you go.”

“Thank you,” you reply, standing up.

“I’m really sorry again, Doctor…” Her eyes flicker to your coat, reading the name stitched onto it. “…Kang.”

You shake your head lightly. “It’s okay. I wasn’t looking either. It’s partly my fault.”

You pause for a moment, studying her. “By the way, what’s your name? I don’t think I’ve seen you around before.”

She smiles sweetly. “I’m Jang Wonyoung. I just started working here yesterday.”

“Well, it’s nice meeting you, Wonyoung,” you say with a friendly smile. “Sorry our first meeting had to be like this.”

“That’s alright,” she replies. “Have a nice day, Dr. Kang.”

She gives a small wave before heading off.

You continue towards the elevator and pressed the button. While waiting, you check your phone and read Jungwon’s message. He mentions that the newborn unit is a bit crowded with nurses and a few parents, and that he’ll update you once he gets inside.

Ding.

The elevator doors open.

You look up and see Sunghoon inside.

A smile forms on your lips as you step in, slipping your phone back into your pocket.

“Funny how we always run into each other at the elevator,” you say, turning to him.

“It is,” he replies, a hint of amusement in his voice. “Maybe I should start charging you for getting to see a handsome face like mine every time the doors open.”

You let out a laugh, and he joins in, the sound light and easy between you.

“Anyway,” he continues once the laughter fades. “Where are you planning to eat lunch? Sunoo and a friend of mine are trying out a newly opened restaurant nearby. Want to join us?”

“I’d love to,” you say, “but Jungwon and I already made plans, and he’s treating me to dessert, so I can’t really say no to that.” You nudge his side playfully.

“Ah, I see.” He nods, though you can’t help but notice the slight disappointment in his tone. “Maybe next time.”

“Definitely next time,” you reply.

The elevator doors slide open at your floor.

You step out, then glance back at him. “I promise I’ll make it up to you.”

And with that, you walk away, unaware of the way his gaze lingers on you just a second longer than usual.

ᯓ★ ݁˖

Lunchtime arrives, and you’ve been sitting there for almost an hour.

Your plate is already empty, your drink long finished, and yet there’s still no sign of Jungwon or the dessert he promised.

You let out a quiet sigh, resting your cheek against your palm as you glance towards the cafeteria doors. Maybe I should’ve just gone with Sunghoon instead…

Just as the thought crosses your mind, the doors swing open and Jungwon rushes in, scanning the room before spotting you.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry I’m late, a patient was—” He’s panting so hard he can’t even finish his sentence.

“Woah, hey. Sit down first,” you say quickly.

He does as told, and you hand him your spare bottle of water. He takes it immediately, drinking it down in one go.

Once he’s done, he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and looks at you apologetically. “I really wanted to come earlier, but a patient asked me to stay with her until her husband arrived. I didn’t expect it to take that long… if I had known, I wouldn’t have stayed.”

You nod, your expression softening. “It’s okay. I would’ve done the same thing.”

“Did you at least eat lunch?” you ask.

“I did,” he replies. “The patient felt bad for making me wait, so she gave me some food.”

“Then I guess that leaves us with dessert,” you say, pointing lightly at him. “Now go get me that dessert you promised.”

Jungwon stands up immediately and heads to the counter.

A few minutes later, he returns, but this time, there’s a slight frown on his face.

“They ran out,” he says. “I guess it’s my fault for getting here late.”

You sigh, leaning back in your chair. “So… what are we supposed to have for dessert now?”

Jungwon pauses, thinking for a moment before his expression brightens. “I know a place. Come with me.”

A short while later, the two of you find yourselves standing in front of a gelato shop in town.

“I come here whenever I’m craving something sweet,” Jungwon says, a hint of excitement in his voice. “They make the best gelato.”

He steps ahead of you, holding the door open.

“You’re really serious about this gelato, huh?” you tease with a small laugh.

ᯓ★ ݁˖

Across the street, inside the newly opened restaurant, Sunghoon sits with Sunoo and Jay.

“Is that Y/N?” Sunoo suddenly says, pointing towards the window.

Sunghoon’s attention shifts instantly, his gaze following the direction.

Outside, he sees you with Jungwon.

“She’s with the resident,” Sunoo adds, still watching.

“They seem close,” Jay comments casually. “Maybe a little too close. I can’t even remember the last time I became friends with a resident.”

Sunoo gasps softly, covering his mouth. “Right? I thought I was the only one who noticed.”

Sunghoon’s grip on his fork tightens slightly as he listens, his eyes still fixed on the scene outside. On the way Jungwon holds the door open for you and the way you laugh.

“Do you think maybe they’re—”

“Okay, that’s enough,” Sunghoon cuts in, his tone sharper than usual. “Can we just eat in peace and not start rumors?”

Sunoo scoffs, side-eyeing him. “Geez. I was just saying.”

Sunghoon then goes back to eating, but the air at the table has shifted.

ᯓ★ ݁˖

After finishing your gelato, you and Jungwon stepped outside.

Just as you’re about to leave, you spot Sunoo approaching the shop.

You wave at him, and he waves back enthusiastically, a grin spreading across his face.

“What are you doing here?” you ask.

“Getting dessert,” he replies. “Do they have mint chocolate here?”

“Yeah they have tons of flavors, actually. I think you’ll like all of them,” you say with a small laugh.

“Really?” Sunoo’s eyes light up. “I can’t wait!”

He practically skips toward the entrance.

Moments later, Sunghoon and Jay approach.

“Hi,” you greet as they stop in front of you.

“Hello,” Jay replies, glancing inside. “Is Sunoo in there?” You nodded.

“I’ll see if there's a flavor I like,” he says, turning to Sunghoon. “You want anything?”

Sunghoon shakes his head. “I’m good.”

Jay heads inside, leaving the two of you and Jungwon, who has just stepped beside you in an awkward silence.

“Hey,” you say to Sunghoon, but this time, something feels off.

He just nods. No smile. No teasing remark.

Jungwon shifts slightly beside you, and Sunghoon’s gaze flickers toward him, sharp, assessing.

“Right,” you say, trying to ease the tension. “Jungwon, this is Dr. Park Sunghoon, my friend.”

You gesture towards Jungwon. “And Sunghoon, this is Jungwon, the resident I told you about.”

Jungwon immediately extends his hand. “Nice to meet you, Dr. Park.”

For a second, Sunghoon just stares at it, his thick brows slightly furrowed.

You clear your throat softly. Only then does Sunghoon take his hand, briefly.

“Uh huh,” he mutters.

Jungwon withdraws his hand, the smile on his face still polite, though a little uncertain now.

Just then, Sunoo and Jay return. With Sunoo holding his three scoops of mint chocolate chip gelato.

“Let’s head back,” Jay says. “Lunch break’s almost over.”

The five of you began walking back towards the hospital. Sunghoon, Sunoo, and Jay walked ahead, while you and Jungwon trail slightly behind.

“Jungwon… I’m sorry about that,” you say quietly. “Sunghoon isn’t usually like that. I don’t know what got into him.”

“It’s okay,” Jungwon replies, giving you a reassuring smile. “Maybe he just had a bad day.”

“Still… I’ll talk to him.” Before he could respond, you jogged forward.

“Sunghoon,” you call.

No response.

You try again.

Still nothing.

You frown slightly before reaching out and poking his side.

He flinches, finally turning to look at you. “What was that for?”

“You weren’t listening, so I had to resort to that,” you say, pouting slightly. His expression softens just a bit.

“…Sorry. What did you want to say?” He asks as you crossed your arms. “Why were you rude to Jungwon earlier? The kid was just trying to introduce himself.”

“I wasn’t,” he replied, looking away.

“You were,” you insist. “What’s wrong? Are you upset because I didn’t join you for lunch?”

There’s a flicker of something in his eyes as he looks back at you.

“No,” he says quickly. “It’s not that. A waiter messed up my order earlier, so I didn’t really enjoy the meal,” he lied, his voice a little too fast, as if he’s trying to convince both you and himself.

“Oh… that sucks,” you say, your tone softening. “So you really just had a bad day.”

“Yeah,” he mutters, scratching the back of his neck. His ears tint slightly red.

“You should leave them a bad review,” you say lightly. “They don’t deserve all that hype.”

A faint smile tugs at his lips. “Maybe I should.”

──────────────────────────────

It was now time for the yearly medical mission, this time held in Gangwon Province.

Early in the morning, before the sun had fully risen, doctors were already gathered at the back of the hospital, loading supplies into vans. The atmosphere was focused, everyone moving with practiced efficiency.

Once you finished loading your things into the vehicle, the senior doctor, Ms. Lim, arrived to announce the car assignments. Most of the staff, doctors and nurses alike were placed in the larger vans, while only three were assigned to the smaller car.

That included you, Chaewon, and a pharmacist.

“We better get moving. The drive will take two to three hours, and I don’t want us arriving late,” Ms. Lim said as everyone began heading toward their assigned vehicles.

You stepped into the small car first, with Chaewon following right after. “Great, seatmates,” you said lightly, earning a smile from her as she settled beside you. The pharmacist sat in the front passenger seat, next to the driver.

Even with only four people inside, the space felt slightly cramped, with a few supplies stacked behind your seats, signaling the long drive ahead.

ᯓ★ ݁˖

You arrived in Gangwon Province after two and a half hours.

You stretched your arms as soon as you stepped out of the car. “Finally, we’re here,” you said, glancing at Chaewon beside you.

“Look at the view,” she pointed out.

Ahead of you, mountains covered in green stretched into the distance, the early sunlight rising over them and casting a soft glow across the landscape. The air was noticeably cooler and cleaner, a quiet reminder that you were far from the city now.

Around you, doctors and staff had already started unloading supplies from the vehicles. You moved towards the car again and joined in, helping carry boxes as the medical mission was about to start.

ᯓ★ ݁˖

The medical mission is taking place at a public school gym that is converted into a temporary clinic.

Folding tables are set up in sections for each department, with simple privacy screens dividing consultation areas. Nurses move between stations guiding patients, while rows of chairs line the sides of the gym for those waiting their turn.

You sat at a small table marked for OB-GYN consultations, flipping through charts as a line of patients steadily forms in front of you, the hum of the makeshift clinic filling the space around you.

The check-up began smoothly, most patients were cooperative, listening attentively as you gave instructions and advice. Those who needed minor procedures were guided to the adjacent room for outpatient care, while you stayed at your station, calmly writing prescriptions and updating charts.

From across the space, Sunghoon sat at a parallel table, his gaze occasionally lifting towards you. He observed the way you spoke to each patient, reassuring and always gentle in tone, together with the soft smile you gave even in the middle of a busy line.

“Man, you gotta stop staring at her. There are patients on their way,” Jay said quietly from beside him.

“I— I wasn’t staring,” Sunghoon replied immediately, shifting his attention to the neatly arranged supplies in front of him, pretending to align them even though they were already perfectly in order. “Just… observing.”

Jay let out a small hum of disbelief. “Whatever you say.”

ᯓ★ ݁˖

Lunchtime came, with your team providing free food for all the attendees. A long line formed as patients waited for their meals, the gym still buzzing with quiet conversation and movement.

You sat at the table assigned for the doctors, with Sunghoon taking the empty seat beside you.

“Hi,” you greeted as he greeted back.

“How’s the consultation so far? I saw there are a lot of patients in your area,” he asked as he started eating.

“It’s going well. I haven’t had this much fun in a while,” you admitted, earning a small nod from him.

“Good to hear you’re enjoying it,” he said simply.

“I am,” you continued. “It’s always a pleasure helping people.”

The conversation flowed easily as you both ate. When you finished your meal, you reached for the brownie included in the tray, but Sunghoon stopped you.

“Don’t.” You looked up at him, confused.

“It has nuts,” Sunghoon added.

“Oh,” you blinked, then set it back down. “Right.”

A beat passed before you asked, “How did you know I’m allergic to peanuts?”

He cleared his throat, looking down at his food. “I saw you separate the nuts when you were eating that salad last week. And I've seen the EpiPen you always carry in your pocket.”

You stared at him for a second longer than intended, your chest tightening.

“You noticed that?”

He gave a small shrug. “It’s hard not to.”

A quiet warmth settled in your chest, though you kept your expression calm. “Well… thank you for warning me.”

You glanced back at the brownie, then sighed softly. “But it feels like a waste to just leave it.”

Before you could say more, Sunghoon reached over and took it from your plate.

“Always so considerate,” he said, before taking a bite himself.

ᯓ★ ݁˖

It was already night by the time the medical mission ended.

Everyone looked exhausted, evident in the way people moved slower than usual, taking their time packing up supplies. The once busy area had quieted down, replaced by tired chatter and the occasional sigh.

You grabbed your things and made your way to the car, opening the trunk.

“Here, I got it.”

Before you could protest, Sunghoon had already taken the supplies from your hands and placed them neatly inside.

“Thanks,” you say, watching as he closes the trunk.

Just then, Chaewon comes rushing over, slightly out of breath. “Y/N, I asked Ms. Lim earlier if I could transfer to the van since I felt claustrophobic in the smaller car. She said I could, but only if someone switched places with me. I tried asking around, but no one wants to,” she groans, squeezing your hands in mild panic.

You give her a sympathetic look. “Chae, maybe we can—”

“I’ll switch seats with you.”

Both of you turn as Sunghoon speaks up, having clearly overheard the conversation.

“You would?” Chaewon asks, her face lighting up.

He gives a small nod. “Yeah.”

“Oh my gosh, thank you!” she squeals, then quickly turns back to you. “But Y/N, is it okay if I’m not your seatmate anymore?”

You smile softly. “It’s fine. I know how much you hate small spaces.”

Chaewon beams before pulling you into a quick hug. “Thank you, Y/N. You’re the best.”

“Everyone, let’s go!” Ms. Lim calls out.

“I have to go, see you at the hospital!” Chaewon says, waving as she hurries off.

You wave back before heading to the car. You slide into your seat, and a moment later, Sunghoon follows, settling beside you.

“She’s right,” he mutters, shifting slightly. “It is cramped in here.”

Your shoulders brush against his from how little space there is.

“Yeah,” you sigh. “We just have to endure it for two and a half hours.”

ᯓ★ ݁˖

The car ride begins, the hum of the engine blending with the low chatter of others. You pull out your phone, texting Jungwon about updates from the hospital. The screen blurs slightly as you blink slowly, fatigue catching up to you.

You let out a quiet yawn while waiting for his reply, your eyelids growing heavier by the second.

“Tired?” Sunghoon asks softly from beside you.

“Mm,” you hum in response, too drained to form a proper sentence.

“You should get some sleep,” he says. “I’ll wake you up when we arrive.”

"Maybe I should.”

You lean your head against the window, eyes slowly closing as the gentle motion of the car puts you to sleep.

A few minutes pass.

Sunghoon glances at you, noticing the way your head keeps tilting awkwardly against the glass, your body shifting uncomfortably with every bump on the road.

Carefully, he moves a little closer.

Slowly, so carefully you don’t wake, he lifts a hand and gently guides your head away from the window, letting it rest against his shoulder instead.

“There…” he whispers softly.

Your head settles against him, your breathing evening out as you remain asleep, now in a far more comfortable position.

He stays still, not wanting to disturb you. But as the quiet of the ride settles in, he begins to feel his own exhaustion creeping in.

His eyes flutter shut.

And soon enough, he falls asleep too.

ᯓ★ ݁˖

Unbeknownst to the two of you, Sunoo, who had already taken the front seat earlier, insisting he wanted to ride shotgun instead of being stuck in the back with the supplies on the van, was quietly watching a movie on his phone.

At some point, he glanced up from his screen and caught a glimpse of the back seat through the rearview mirror.

His brows lifted slightly.

He shifted in his seat and turned just enough to look behind him directly.

There you were, fast asleep, your head resting gently on Sunghoon’s shoulder.

And Sunghoon, also asleep, his head slightly tilted toward yours.

A slow, mischievous grin spread across Sunoo’s face.

He paused his movie and casually raised his phone, snapping a photo of the two of you, clearly entertained.

“Interesting…” he muttered under his breath before returning his attention to the screen, as if nothing had happened.

──────────────────────────────

The morning two days after, you step out of the elevator, heading towards the doctors’ lounge, only to stop in your tracks.

A few feet ahead, you spot Sunghoon walking out of the operating room. He’s in the middle of removing his surgical gown and cap, his hair slightly disheveled as he runs a hand through it to fix it.

For a moment, you just watch him.

You were about to walk over, maybe ask how the surgery went when someone beats you to it.

“Doctor.”

You glance over.

It’s the nurse you met before, Wonyoung.

“How was the surgery?” she asks, her voice softer than usual.

“It was fine,” Sunghoon replies.

“Of course it went well. You’re good at what you do,” she says, stepping a little closer than necessary. “Do you need help with anything, Dr. Park? I can assist you in cleaning up.”

Before he can respond, she reaches out, noticing his collar slightly crooked from removing his surgical gown and fixes it herself.

You freeze.

For a second, you can’t quite believe what you’re seeing. Your lips part slightly as you watch the interaction unfold, something uneasy settling in your chest.

She’s clearly flirting.

You wait, expecting Sunghoon to step back, to say something, to at least react.

But he doesn’t.

He just stands there, looking at her, almost as if he’s momentarily zoned out.

Something about that makes your chest tighten.

“Tsk.” You crossed your arms and turn away, not bothering to watch any longer.

Your steps are quicker now as you head straight to the doctors’ lounge, pushing the door open a little harder than necessary.

The sudden noise makes Jungwon look up from his laptop, slightly startled. “Y/N?” he says.

You pause, then let out a small breath. “Jungwon. I didn’t know you were here.”

“I’m just working on a report,” he replies, closing his laptop halfway. “What’s up? You look a little… irritated.”

You sit down beside him, crossing your arms as you lean back.

“Jungwon, do you know that newly hired nurse? The tall one who looks more like a supermodel than a nurse?”

He turns his chair toward you, giving you his full attention. His brows knit slightly as he thinks. “Nurse Wonyoung?”

“Yes, her,” you say quickly. “I just saw her flirting with Sunghoon out there. Can you believe that? A nurse who’s barely been here a month, hitting on a doctor?”

Jungwon lets out a small chuckle once you finish.

“Yeah, I believe you,” he says. “You don’t usually get this worked up over something small.”

You narrow your eyes slightly. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means…” he leans back a bit, a teasing glint in his eyes, “you sound jealous.”

“Jealous?” you repeat, almost scoffing. “Of course not. He's my friend and I’m just looking out for him. You know it’s against company rules to date someone new.”

You can feel the warmth creeping up your cheeks.

“…Yeah right,” Jungwon says, clearly unconvinced.

You quickly stood up, not wanting to entertain his teasing any further. “Whatever. I’m going to grab something to eat.”

“Alright, Doc,” Jungwon says with a small teasing grin as you head for the door.

You walk down the hallway, your gaze lowered as you fumble through the pockets of your coat, searching for some cash. Distracted, you don’t notice where you’re going and end up bumping into someone.

It’s Sunghoon.

Your expression shifts almost instantly, your mood dropping the moment you realize it’s him.

“Where are you heading?” he asks, one brow slightly raised.

“Just going to buy some food,” you reply.

“Want me to come with you?” he offers.

“I’m fine,” you say a little too quickly. “I can manage on my own. Besides, I have a hysterectomy scheduled after this. I need to get back right away.”

The lie slips out easily, even though you know the surgery isn’t for another hour.

“Okay… just don’t forget to—”

You don’t let him finish.

You walked past him without another word, your steps just a little faster than before, the image of what you saw earlier still lingering stubbornly in your mind.

Maybe it was better to avoid him and push those resurfacing feelings back down. So that in the end, you wouldn’t end up getting hurt.

──────────────────────────────

The next few weeks stayed the same, you avoided Sunghoon as much as you could.

You grew distant. Conversations were cut short, small talk nonexistent, and every interaction between you was kept strictly professional.

It felt like the friendship you built with him had never existed at all, as you treated him the same way you had for years before.

“Working the night shift again?” He asked as you were waiting for your coffee at the vending machine.

You froze for a split second at the sound of his voice behind you, but quickly composed yourself.

“Yeah.”

The cup dropped into the slot. You took it without looking at him as you walked past him.

Sunghoon could only watch your retreating figure, letting out a quiet sigh as another attempt to start a conversation with you failed.

ᯓ★ ݁˖

Sunghoon leaned back against the counter in the doctors' lounge, arms crossed, gaze fixed somewhere distant. Jay glanced up from his phone and watched him for a moment before speaking.

“You’ve been like that all week,” he said.

Sunghoon didn’t respond.

“Actually,” Jay added, setting his phone down, “ever since she started avoiding you.”

That finally made Sunghoon look at him. “Avoiding?”

Jay let out a short scoff. “You didn’t notice?”

Before Sunghoon could answer, the door opened and Sunoo walked in, drink in hand, immediately sensing the tension.

“Notice what?” he asked casually.

Jay nodded towards Sunghoon. “He just realized.”

Sunoo blinked once, then laughed lightly. “No way.”

“What are you talking about?” Sunghoon frowned.

Sunoo leaned against the table, studying him. “You’ve been acting off for weeks.”

“I haven’t—”

“You have,” Jay cut in. “You’re more distracted. You forget small things, double-check things you normally don’t.”

Sunoo added, “And you keep looking towards her area even when you’re not assigned there.”

Sunghoon’s jaw tightened slightly. “That doesn’t mean anything.”

“It does,” Jay said calmly. A brief silence followed before Sunoo tilted his head.

“You didn’t even realize she was avoiding you until now.”

Sunghoon paused, thinking back. Vague replies, shorter conversations, the way you left early, the lack of eye contact. “…I thought she was just busy,” he muttered.

Jay shook his head. “You don’t believe that.”

Sunghoon didn’t answer.

Sunoo exhaled softly. “You’re not just noticing her.” He smirks slightly. “You’re affected by her.”

The words hung in the air.

Sunghoon scoffed weakly, but it lacked certainty. “I’m not affected.”

“Then why do you look like that every time she walks past you and doesn’t stop?” Sunoo asked simply.

Silence.

Jay crossed his arms. “You didn’t care before.”

Sunghoon frowned slightly. "What do you mean?”

“You used to be fine,” Jay said. “Now you’re not.”

Sunghoon ran a hand through his hair, exhaling. "She’s been acting weird...”

Jay immediately corrected him. “No. You’ve been acting weird.”

Sunghoon looked between them, irritation flickering but it didn’t last. Because it was starting to feel… accurate.

Sunoo sighed and pushed himself off the table. “You know what your problem is?”

Sunghoon looked up. “What?”

“You think noticing her is enough,” Sunoo said simply.

That made him pause.

Jay added more quietly, “It’s not.”

Sunghoon frowned. “What are you talking about?”

Sunoo stepped closer, voice steady now. “You don’t get to just notice her forever.”

“You either do something about it or someone else eventually will. Like perhaps, Jungwon?”

That landed differently.

Sunghoon’s expression hardened. "What am I supposed to do?” Jay answered immediately. “Tell her.”

Sunghoon blinked. “Tell her what?” Sunoo lets out a short laugh. “Don’t act like you don’t know.”

He pulled out his phone and unlocked it, tapping a few times before turning the screen toward Sunghoon.

The photo from the night of the medical mission appeared. You, asleep, your head resting on his shoulder. Him, leaning slightly toward you, closer than he remembered.

The room went quiet.

“How did you get that?" He coughs. "And you know, that was just an accident. I didn't mean to end up in that position,” Sunghoon said after a moment, but his voice was quieter now.

Sunoo hummed. “Sure.”

Jay added, almost matter-of-fact, “You don’t let people that close.”

Sunghoon didn’t respond. His eyes stayed on the photo longer than necessary. “Since when did I start doing things like that?” he muttered under his breath.

Neither Sunoo nor Jay answered.

Instead, they just watched him, because for the first time, Sunghoon wasn’t denying it anymore. He was thinking.

Then Sunoo spoke again, softer but sharper.

“You don’t have to keep pretending you don’t feel anything. We know.”

Jay nodded once. “Just talk to her.”

Sunoo tilted his phone slightly, still showing the photo. “Before someone else does.”

And this time, Sunghoon didn’t argue.

──────────────────────────────

You push through the operating room doors, the sterile air hitting you instantly as the urgency inside the room becomes clear. The patient is already on the table, breaths uneven, the monitor beside her flashing unstable vitals.

“Doctor, her blood pressure is dropping,” one of the nurses calls out.

“I see it,” you reply, already gloving up. “Prepare for immediate delivery.”

Jungwon stands across from you, already scrubbed in, eyes focused but tense. This is different from the cases he’s seen before, this one is slipping, and even he can feel it. The usual controlled rhythm of the operating room feels tighter, heavier.

You moved quickly, voice steady despite the rising pressure. “Ma’am, stay with me, okay? You’re doing well. Just a little more.”

The woman turns her head slightly towards you, her face pale, lips trembling. “Doctor…” her voice is weak, barely audible. “If something happens…”

You shake your head immediately. “Nothing is going to happen. We’re getting both of you through this.”

She lets out a shaky breath, her fingers weakly gripping the sheets. “Please… just save the baby.”

“No,” you say firmly, without hesitation. “We’re saving both of you. Stay with me.”

“Heart rate dropping!” another nurse calls.

“Let’s move, now.” The room shifts into rapid motion.

“Push,” you instruct, your tone controlled but urgent. “You have to push for me.” With one final effort, the baby is delivered.

A second of silence, then a cry fills the room, strong and alive.

“Baby’s out,” you announced, a flicker of relief passing through the team.

But it doesn’t last.

“Doctor, she’s bleeding heavily!”

You look down, there's far more blood than before as it pooled rapidly.

“Start uterotonics. Apply pressure, now!” you order, your voice sharper now.

Jungwon hesitates for a fraction of a second before moving, following your commands, his movements slightly rushed.

“Ma’am, stay with me!” you call, louder now. “Stay with me!”

The monitor begins to slow.

“No, no, come on,” you mutter under your breath. “We’re not losing you.”

“BP unrecordable!”

“Prepare for resuscitation!”

The flatline cuts through the room. Followed by a long, continuous sound.

“No!” you shout, immediately stepping in. “Start CPR!”

You begin compressions, counting under your breath, your movements precise but desperate.

“Come on… come on…” you whisper, your voice cracking just slightly.

Jungwon watches for a brief moment, then steps in to assist, swallowing hard as he follows your lead.

Minutes pass, but the monitor doesn’t change.

The sound remains flat as your movements slow down.

The weight of the silence settles heavily in the room, no one daring to speak. For a moment, you just stare at the monitor, as if waiting for it to change. It doesn’t.

You inhale slowly, forcing yourself to straighten.

“Time of death,” you say, your voice quieter now, but steady as you glance at the clock. “4:56 pm.”

The baby’s cries echo faintly from across the room, a sharp contrast to the stillness surrounding you.

You turn your head towards Jungwon, your expression composed, but your eyes betray a flicker of something deeper.

“Transfer the baby to the newborn unit,” you instruct. “Go with the nurses.”

Jungwon nods, swallowing hard as two nurses carefully prepare the infant.

He hesitates for just a moment, looking back at you, before following them out.

You exhaled deeply, looking at the patient lying before you. Then you instructed the nurses on what to do with the body, ending with, “I’ll go inform her husband.”

ᯓ★ ݁˖

Pushing the operating room doors open, you stepped out into the hallway. The bright lights feel harsher now, the noise around you dull and distant. Across from you, her husband sits in the waiting area. The moment he sees you, he stands up quickly.

“Doc… how are they?” he asks as you approach.

You take a slow breath, steadying yourself, gathering the courage to say the words.

“I’m sorry, sir… but your wife didn’t make it,” you say quietly.

His shoulders drop as he looks down, his composure breaking as he starts to cry.

“…And the baby?” he asks after a moment, wiping at his tears.

“She’s alive,” you reply gently. “They’ve taken her to the newborn unit. I’ll let you know when it’s okay for you to visit.”

He nods weakly, trying to hold himself together.

“I’m… I’m sorry again for your loss,” you add, trying to sound professional despite the lump in your throat.

“It’s okay,” he says, though his voice trembles. “At least… at least you saved our baby. Thank you for that.”

You nod, offering a small, sympathetic smile as he turns and walks away, his steps heavy and unsteady.

You know it wasn't your fault, but deep down you still feel disappointed in yourself for not saving her.

As a doctor, moments like these are inevitable. But for you, it has only happened six times, including today. You always do your best to save your patients’ lives and you usually succeed. So when the worst happens, you can’t help but feel responsible, as if the loss was yours to carry.

You step aside, pressing a hand lightly against the wall as you take in a sharp breath. Tears begin to fall, quiet at first, then harder as the memory resurfaces, your patient’s face, the way she looked at you, trusting you when you promised to save both her and her baby.

“Y/N?” You heard someone call and you look up to see Sunghoon. You stared at him for a while, your expression a mix of surprise and nervous at the thought of him seeing your vulnerable side.

“Sunghoon, I—”

Before you can finish, he closes the distance and pulls you into a gentle embrace. One hand comes up to cradle the back of your head, guiding it to rest against his shoulder, while the other slowly rubs your back.

“Shh… it’s okay,” he murmurs softly. “You don’t have to explain anything.” He holds you carefully, like you might fall apart at any second.

You stayed like that for a while, crying into his shoulder, his arms wrapped securely around you.

You’re not sure how, but the simple gesture made you feel safe. The comfort you didn’t even realize you needed is suddenly there, steady and warm, easing the tightness in your chest little by little.

“I couldn’t save her,” you manage to say, your voice breaking as you pull away slightly, shaking your head. “I tried… but it wasn’t enough.”

“Hey, look at me.”

His hands gently cup your cheeks, guiding your gaze back to his.

“It’s not your fault,” he says softly. “It never was. So don’t blame yourself for what happened. You did everything you could.” His voice remains calm, comforting. “I’m like that too, I don’t always get to save my patients. But what matters is that you tried. That’s what counts.”

You swallow, nodding slowly as his words sink in.

“You’re right. Thank you,” you whisper.

He gives you a small, reassuring smile. “You don’t have to thank me. Just know that I’m always here for you.”

Your breath catches at that.

Your brows knit slightly as you search his face, trying to find even the slightest hint that he’s joking, but there’s nothing. Just sincerity, clear and unwavering in his eyes.

“Sunghoon…” you murmur.

“Yeah?” he responds, tilting his head slightly.

“Why are you being so nice to me?” you ask quietly. “I’ve been a jerk to you these past few weeks but you’re still here, comforting me.”

Your gaze drops again, guilt creeping in.

“I don’t think I deserve your kindness… or even your friendship.”

Sunghoon shakes his head almost immediately. He lifts your chin gently with his finger, making you look at him again.

“I don’t care about the past few weeks,” he says. “You needed someone, so I came.”

Something in your chest stirs at that, soft and unfamiliar, yet overwhelming all at once. Your lips tremble slightly as your eyes begin to sting again.

“I’m so sorry,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper. “I promise I won’t do it again.”

Before he can respond, you step forward and wrapped your arms around him once more, holding him tighter this time.

Sunghoon lets out a soft chuckle, clearly caught off guard, but he doesn’t pull away. Instead, he gently pats your back, his touch warm and reassuring as you cling to him.

──────────────────────────────

The next day after the incident, you, Sunghoon, Sunoo, and Chaewon went out to eat together. It was Sunghoon’s idea, he said it might help cheer you up after everything that happened.

You sat at the table with Chaewon beside you and Sunghoon across from you.

As you waited for your food, you glanced at him and smiled. “Sunghoon, thank you for this. I really needed it. I’m glad to have a friend like you.”

Then you looked over at Chaewon and Sunoo. “And you guys too.”

“Aww, no problem, babes. We’re always here to cheer you up,” Chaewon replied, wrapping an arm around you in a side hug.

“Friends?” Sunoo suddenly echoed, glancing at Sunghoon from the corner of his eye.

You blinked, confused.

“Oh– I mean… yeah, you’re welcome,” he quickly corrected, offering an awkward smile.

Before you could question it further, the food arrived, filling the table and momentarily shifting everyone’s attention.

The conversation died down as you all started eating, the clinking of utensils replacing it.

A few minutes in, Sunoo suddenly stood up.

“I just need to go to the restroom,” he said casually, then turned to Sunghoon. “Come with me.”

Before Sunghoon could even react, Sunoo was already pulling him up from his seat. Sunghoon barely had time to set his fork down, looking completely caught off guard as he was dragged along.

You watched them walk away, brows slightly furrowed.

“What was that about?” Chaewon asked.

You shrugged, just as confused. “I have no idea.”

ᯓ★ ݁˖

As you walked back to the hospital, you decided to bring up what happened earlier.

“So… are you going to tell me what that was about, or am I supposed to pretend it was nothing?” you asked, glancing at Sunghoon.

“What? That?” Sunghoon replied casually, slipping his hands into his pockets. “Sunoo was just overreacting about something.”

“Really…” you said, clearly unconvinced. “What kind of something?”

He rolled his eyes slightly, though a small smile tugged at his lips. “It’s just between me and him. Don’t worry. I’ll tell you if it ever concerns you.”

You let out a quiet sigh, deciding not to push further. “Okay, fine. I’ll believe you. As long as it’s not about a secret crush or anything, then I’m out.”

“What?” Sunghoon suddenly said, a bit too quickly.

You frowned, studying his reaction. “Huh…?” Then it clicked. “Wait… I’m right?”

“N-no, you’re not,” he denied, but the tips of his ears turned noticeably red.

A laugh slipped out of you. “Hey, relax. I won’t tell anyone,” you said, nudging him lightly. “Your secret’s safe with me.”

He glanced at you, still unsure whether to believe you.

“I think I already have an idea who it is,” you added, a teasing smile forming. “And don’t worry, I support you.”

“Oh…” Sunghoon exhaled, some of the tension leaving his shoulders. “T– thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” you replied with a small smile.

You looked away after that, your chest tightening just a little, feeling a strange mix of relief and disappointment. Relief, because Sunghoon trusted you with something so personal, and disappointment, because you hadn’t expected him to like Wonyoung back.

You thought you had successfully buried those feelings long ago, but hearing him admit he had a crush still stung more than you were willing to admit.

It’s fine, you told yourself. As long as you stayed good friends, that would be enough.

──────────────────────────────

The fluorescent lights in the doctors’ lounge felt harsher than usual.

Maybe it was the hour. Maybe it was the exhaustion settling deep into your bones. Or maybe it was the way the numbers on the chart in front of you refused to make sense no matter how many times you read them.

Beside you, the cup of coffee you bought earlier had long gone lukewarm.

You reached for it anyway, bringing it to your lips in a half-hearted attempt to wake yourself up.

The bitter taste lingered, but it did little to chase away the heaviness in your eyes. If anything, it only reminded you how tired you really were.

You blinked once. Twice.

Still, the words blurred.

With a quiet sigh, you leaned back slightly in your chair, pressing your fingers against your temple as if that would somehow force your mind to cooperate. It didn’t. If anything, the silence of the room only made your thoughts louder and harder to ignore.

You didn’t even realize you were staring blankly at the same line for the past five minutes.

“You’re going to misread that.”

The voice came from behind you, calm and familiar, cutting through your haze like it always did.

You didn’t turn immediately. Instead, you let out a small breath, somewhere between a tired laugh and defeat.

“I’m not,” you muttered weakly, eyes still on the chart. “I’m just… taking my time.”

There was a pause. Then the sound of footsteps, slow, unhurried, coming closer.

“You’ve been ‘taking your time’ on the same page since I got here,” he replied.

You finally turned, meeting Sunghoon’s gaze. His expression wasn’t mocking, nor was it particularly soft, it was something in between, the kind you had learned to read over the years. Observant. Quietly concerned.

You straightened a little in your seat, as if that alone could prove your point.

“I’m fine,” you insisted, though even you could hear how unconvincing it sounded.

His eyes flickered briefly to the untouched coffee beside you, then back to your face.

“You didn’t even finish that,” he pointed out.

You glanced at the cup, then away. “It’s not working,” you admitted under your breath.

That was when his expression shifted, just slightly.

“…Come on.”

You frowned slightly. “What?”

“Come on,” he repeated, already turning away as if he expected you to follow.

You stared at his back for a second, then let out a quiet sigh before pushing your chair back. The legs scraped softly against the floor as you stood, grabbing your coat almost out of habit.

“Where are we going?” you asked, trailing after him.

“Fresh air,” he said simply. “Since that clearly isn’t working.”

You glanced back once at the abandoned cup of coffee on the table before following him out.

ᯓ★ ݁˖

The hallway was quieter than usual.

Your footsteps echoed faintly against the polished floors, falling into rhythm with his. Neither of you spoke, and yet the silence felt… comfortable. Familiar. It wrapped around the two of you like something well-worn, something neither of you questioned anymore.

The elevator ride was short.

You leaned lightly against the wall, arms loosely crossed, your head tilting back just enough for your eyes to close for a second. The hum of the elevator was almost lulling, dangerously so.

“You’re actually going to fall asleep standing up,” Sunghoon muttered.

You opened one eye lazily. “I’m not that far gone.”

He didn’t respond, but you felt his gaze stayed on you for a brief moment.

ᯓ★ ݁˖

The rooftop door creaked softly as he pushed it open.

The moment you stepped out, the cold night air hits your face, sharp and refreshing. It stole the warmth lingering on your skin and replaced it with something clearer.

You inhaled deeply.

And for the first time in hours, your head felt lighter.

“…Okay,” you admitted, stepping forward. “That actually helped.”

The wind picked up slightly, brushing past you and tugging at the edges of your coat. Fabric shifted, swaying gently with each passing breeze, the night wrapping itself around you in quiet movements.

You walked towards the railing, resting your hands against the cool metal as you looked out at the city below. Lights flickered in the distance, cars moving like slow, distant streams.

For a moment, everything felt far away.

“Thanks for this,” you said softly.

No response.

You glanced over your shoulder.

Sunghoon stood a few steps behind you, his hands tucked into his coat pockets, his posture relaxed but his gaze wasn’t on the view.

It was on you.

You turned slightly, brows knitting together. “What?”

He didn’t answer right away.

Instead, he took a step closer.

Then another.

The faint sound of his shoes against the concrete felt louder than it should have, each step closing the space between you until he was standing beside you, closer than usual.

Close enough for you to notice the way the wind shifted his hair slightly.

Close enough to see the way his eyes caught the city lights.

The way they seemed to twinkle, just barely, as he looked at you, not distant, but focused in a way that made your chest tighten without warning.

Something in your expression must have changed, because his gaze softened a little.

“You know, lately…” he began slowly, his voice lower now, steadier but heavier somehow. “I’ve been noticing things I didn’t before.”

Your breath hitched, just slightly.

“I thought it was nothing,” he continued. “I told myself it didn’t matter.” Then he took another step closer.

You didn’t move.

“But it keeps coming back,” he said, softer now. “No matter how much I try to ignore it.”

Your heart was beating faster now, louder than the wind, louder than your thoughts.

You couldn’t look away, not when he was standing this close, not when his voice sounded like that.

“Look, Y/N…” he said, your name quieter than you had ever heard it from him.

“I’ve been meaning to tell you something—”

A sharp sound cut through the air.

Your phone rang.

The sudden noise felt almost too loud in contrast to the stillness that had built up around you. You flinched slightly, breaking eye contact as you reached into your pocket.

Jungwon’s name flashes on your caller ID the moment you pick up.

Before you can even speak, his voice comes through urgently. “Y/N, there’s a woman in active labor with complications. We need you here now.”

“Okay, I’m coming,” you reply, your voice cutting through the quiet rooftop.

The wind is still, almost cruelly calm compared to the urgency in his tone.

You turn to Sunghoon, and for a brief second, your expression softens with guilt. “There’s an emergency. You can tell me that next time, okay?”

“Oh… okay,” he says quietly, the disappointment flickering across his face before he can hide it.

“I’m sorry, I have to go,” you add, already stepping back.

And just like that, you’re gone.

Sunghoon watches as you rush towards the door, your coat trailing behind you, footsteps echoing sharply before fading completely into the hospital corridor.

The rooftop falls silent again.

He stays there for a moment longer, unmoving, the wind brushing through his hair as if time itself has slowed down just for him.

A small breath escapes him, almost a sigh, as he looks at the empty space where you were standing just seconds ago.

══════════════════════════════

☙ taglist:

@kristynaaah @choibeargyu @oopshee @wonstruck7 @missoxy @loveydoveyez @naraemin @momoarchiveee @betagalactose @jakebitez @reneleaily @jakey1115 @honestlyatomicpanda @jaeunaria0-0 @thisismepls @sievenderz @fabulousarepo4 @heestiki @cumtrov3rsy @wonniecaramelmacchiato

author's note: wow, 12K words, this is actually my first time writing a fic that reached this word count

i really enjoyed writing this, which is probably why it ended up this long haha. as a med student myself, i got especially excited while writing the medical parts. and i think this is, by far, my favorite fic that I’ve written so far

"There you are! I've been looking everywhere!"

You looked up to see Sunghoon stopping before you. His expression faltered at the sight of your red, swollen and watery eyes along with your loud sniffling sounds and how you're biting on your bottom lip to stifle your cries. He sighed, stepping closer to sit on your right on the bench you're seated on. The boy wasted no time in pulling you close to him, allowing you to bury your head in his chest.

He lets you cried and sobbed like a newborn baby, not caring how you're soaking and staining his shirt with your fresh, salty tears. Sunghoon remained silent the entire time, patting your back with one hand while whispering comforting words into your ear. It took you about thirty minutes or so to calm down. When you did, you awkwardly pulled back and he withdrew his hand, resting it on his lap with his eyes scanning your face, searching for any sign of discomfort or lingering sadness.

"What happened?" He asked.

You stubbornly shook your head, keeping your lips sealed shut. Sunghoon sighed, reaching out to rest his hand on your left shoulder to give it an reassuring squeeze. An action that spoke volume.

"Come on, you know you can tell me anything," he gently coaxed you.

You sniffled, raising your hands but the boy was faster. He placed his right hand over yours, gingerly wiping the tears threatening to slip from your eyes. The way he does it was so gentle, loving and caring, like he's afraid of harming you. It's not what friends will do but that's a topic for another time. Perhaps when both of you are fully-grown adults then the elephant in the room will be addressed.

"..Do you think I'm ugly?" You managed to croak out, not having the courage to look him in the eyes.

Silence.

At the stretched silence, you raised your head, ready to change the topic, only for you to pause. You made eye contact with Sunghoon but what caught your attention was the way he looked at you. There was a mixture of emotions—disbelief, pain and anger. Disbelief that you dared to utter those words out, right in front of him. Pain and anger because you chose to believe in someone's words.

Someone that's not him, who will do anything to turn that frown upside down.

"No, gods no," he quickly replied, now cupping your face in his hands.

His thumbs rested on the skin underneath your eyes. It took all of his self-restraint to not do something stupid that could potentially ruined your friendship. After all, Park Sunghoon is nothing but a hopeless fool who is head over heels for you. For a girl who had seen the worst and best of him. For a girl who had became a staple, permanent presence in his life.

He cleared his throat before speaking, features softening—a habit he does whenever he's with you without him knowing.

"I don't know who's been telling you these lies, but they are wrong. They don't know how kind you are to the people around you. They don't know how you're selfless, always putting other people first rather than your own needs. They don't know how strong, sweet and loving you are."

Your eyes widened, lips parting slightly as he starts to ramble, letting out the pent-up feelings that were locked deep in his chest, imprinted in the back of his mind for a long, long time. You stared at him, rendered speechless.

"Sunghoon, I…"

Your voice trailed off, ears and cheeks turning a light shade of red.

"I don't know what to say but thank you," you finished, flashing him a smile, a smile he returned without hesitation.

"Of course, angel. That's what friends are for."

You hummed. "We'll be friends forever, right?"

Sunghoon paused briefly, something unreadable flickered across his face but you didn't see it, too caught up in your own thoughts and the current moment. It was gone when he blinked and he smiled, pretending nothing happened while ignoring the lingering guilt residing in his stomach.

"Yeah, we'll be friends forever. You're my ride and die."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

◟‿୨୧‿◞

"Hello? Earth to (Name)? Anyone home?"

"Ow!"

You yelped when someone whacked your head, snapping you back to reality. You scowled when it's none other than your friend who's also your co-worker at the same time—Choi Beomgyu. He held a rolled-up document in his right hand, looking down at you with his signature, infuriating smug grin that stretches across his face. Your left eyelid twitched, resisting the urge to leap across the table and strangle him to death.

"Jeez, stop glaring at me like that, lover girl. Just because you're working under Sung—"

Beomgyu didn't get to finish his sentence, not when someone purposely and roughly bumped his shoulder against him. You snorted at how he let out a startled yelp, body tilting to the left with his limbs flailing about, like a wild, frantic chicken. Thankfully, he didn't fall and managed to regain his balance, spinning on the spot to throw a traitorous glare to the third person, who slipped in soundlessly.

"Hey! What was that for!? You could've hurt this gorgeous face of mine!" He exclaimed, pointing at his own face and you groaned, making a fake gagging noise in the background and Beomgyu flipped you off without looking at you.

Lee Heeseung—another close friend of yours, merely rolled his eyes and flashed the older man a flat, unimpressed look. "Shut up and get back to work, Gyu. Unless you want to work overtime again."

Both of you snickered in unison at the offended look Beomgyu threw at him, but he knew Heeseung was right. Which was why he turned, muttering a string of curses under his breath as he returned to his desk. Heeseung rolled his eyes before turning to you, with his signature smile now plastered on his face, the kind of smile used to impress his colleagues around him. Also the kind of smile used on simple-minded, hopeless women.

Not you though. Not when a certain someone had captured your heart a long time ago.

"Here's the documents you needed for your case," he said, raising his left hand over the wall of your cubicle, revealing a stack of papers, earning a groan from you.

"Ugh, shooting me with a gun would've hurt less," you complained, accepting them nonetheless as you placed it at the corner of your messy desk.

Heeseung clicked his tongue, shifting to rest both of his arms on the edge of the cubicle, looking down at you from where he stood. Amusement flickered across his doe-like eyes at your reaction. It's obvious he's having the time of his life watching you suffer, much to your annoyance. You would have said or do something, like to flip him off but you felt it before he even entered.

The temperature in the room dropped a notch. Even though the air conditioner was set at a tolerable twenty-four degrees, it felt like it was lowered to nineteen. The previous rounds of hushed murmurs and chatter vanished the moment he stepped into everyone's visions. To say he's a sight to behold would be the biggest understatement of the century.

Park Sunghoon walked in with measured steps, each one unhurried and controlled. His presence alone demanded for space and the room willingly gave it to him. It was either utter obedience or receiving his signature, cold and piercing gaze. A gaze that can sent even the most fearless man running with his invisible tail between his legs.

He's dressed in a perfectly tailored charcoal suit that fitted him well to the core, like it was made for no one else but just him alone. The sharp lines of his midnight blue blazer further accentuated his broad, firm and his oh so reliable shoulders. Shoulders that had been carrying the firm ever since his first day. The crisp white shirt beneath deeply contrasted against the dark tones. Not a single crease or a strand of hair seen or misplaced.

Everything was purely calculated and all according to plan.

His expression remained neutral. Either he was unaware or chose to ignore the effect he has on people. How conversations died mid-sentence. How the sound of fingers flying across keyboards came to an abrupt halt and how even the faint rustling of papers seemed to disappear into thin air. Everyone's eyes were immediately on him, whether they knew it or not.

Seeing him—your childhood friend, the very same boy who never failed to make you feel at ease, to bring a smile on your face, to make you laughed until you were shedding tears, now replaced with someone who you barely knew anymore, did something to you. You felt like you were stabbed in the chest.

He felt familiar and unfamiliar at the same time and you didn't like that at all.

Sunghoon didn't stop walking, not sparing anyone his attention—not that any of them were worthy of his attention in the first place. Heeseung had long scrambled back to his own desk, like the true traitor he is as he left you alone to fend for yourself—

Until he stopped right in front of your desk.

It took all of you to not visibly flinched, to not show any ounce of reaction. Up close, he felt even colder and more unreachable, a feat you didn't think was possible in the first place. For a brief moment, he said nothing. His gaze settled on you, steady and unreadable, like he had became an expert in hiding his feelings.

"See me in my office."

His voice was low, even and authoritative. It's clear he didn't tell you to wait for your reaction. It's clear it wasn't a request. But rather, a demand. A command that you should obeyed, unless you're asking to get fired on the spot. Before you could processed it, he had turned away and walked off, like summoning you was nothing more than another mere, simple task on his to-do list.

It was only when his figure was out of sight was when everyone loosened up, heaving a sigh of relief in unison. Heeseung wasted no time in sliding his chair over to you. His cubicle was only situated on your right, allowing him to move over without any difficulties.

"Oh, you're definitely fucked," he muttered, clearly entertained with him absentmindedly spinning a pen with his left index and middle fingers.

You shot him a look. "Not helping."

"I wasn't trying to help though."

"Fuck you."

"No thank you. Bet you'd love to fuck Sung—"

"Heeseung!"

◟‿୨୧‿◞

After mentally preparing yourself for five minutes along with Heeseung being the helpful friend he is, by laughing at your predicament, you grabbed your trusty notebook that had been stained with tears and caffeine it's a miracle you were still able to use and your pen before leaving. You chose to ignore the "Good luck and don't die!" words Beomgyu shouted at your retreating figure.

Sunghoon's office was located on the other end of the thirty-fifth floor. Yes, the law firm you worked in has multiple floors with a total of seventy-five floors. You remembered you were stunned on your first day, openly gaping at everything around you as you entered, nearly making a fool of yourself by tripping over your feet more than three times in a single day.

You barely recalled nodding your head in acknowledgment at the series of greetings thrown your way from both men and women as they walked past you. You were too caught up in your own mind, many thoughts running through your mind at the speed of light until you sworn you were starting to feel light-headed.

Eventually, you arrived at a particular closed, opaque glass door with matte covering the bottom half and a sign hanging on it. The words stared back at you, like it was mocking you already, as if it knew the reason why you were summoned.

Park Sunghoon's Office.

"It'd be better if it's renamed as Satan's Hellhole instead," you muttered to yourself, wary enough to keep your voice down. You raised your right hand, now curled into a fist and knocked twice on it to announce your arrival.

Knock knock.

Sunghoon's eyes flicked up from his desktop screen, hands going stilled as he was in the middle of typing. One look at you made him nod his head and you entered once you were granted permission, gently closing the door behind him. It's pure instinct for you to clutch your notebook close to your chest in a vice-like grip until the edges crumped up due to your strength, like you want to blend into it, using it as a shield for whatever he had in store for you.

You chewed on your bottom lip, absentmindedly brushing your fingers against the edge of your notebook, unaware of how the man's eyes darkened a shade behind the rimless lenses of his rectangular-shaped glasses that rested perfectly on the bridge of his sharp, elegant nose. Gods, you never expected to see your childhood friend went from a easygoing, scrawny young teenager to… whatever he is now.

That's a man right there, your brain unhelpfully chimed in before adding another sentence, a very fine man, to be exact.

To make yourself feel better, you visualized yourself beating the living lights out of your superior. The very same superior who is seated in front of you, known for being the most cold-hearted, unforgivable and someone who doesn't have any tolerance for anything. When one says anything, they really meant it.

An prime example would be when a poor young woman used to be in your position, only to be fired on her first day when she failed to follow-up with one of Sunghoon's clients. You didn't know much of the details, other than the very obvious fact that he was pissed. One thing about him is that he never raised his voice, which proved to make him all the more intimidating than he already was. He would have lost the trial if he didn't come up with something on the spot but despite his success, he was still enraged and ended up firing the woman.

Nothing more and nothing less.

Ahem.

You snapped back to reality, dryly and loudly swallowing when you noticed Sunghoon had been staring at you the entire time while you were busy imagining punching him, treating him like a punching bag and an outlet to release your pent-up stress and frustrations.

"Are you done daydreaming? If you are, then sit down," he said, voice firm and cold.

Your left eyebrow twitched, resisting the urge to snap, to yell or even better, to throw something at his face as you obliged, sitting on the opposite chair and placed your notebook and hands on your lap, hiding it from his sharp, observant and piercing gaze that never fails to send shivers down your spine.

"Why did you summon me?" You asked, surprisingly able to keep your voice even and steady despite how your fingers were already trembling.

Sunghoon arched his signature thick left eyebrow, like he was impressed by your audacity or stupidity. Or maybe it was both. Whatever it was, it seemed like you had made a wrong approach, with the way he leaned back into his seat, his eyes never leaving your face, catching every micro-expression you made.

"Simple. Because you screwed up."

You flinched—a subtle motion that should go unnoticed by everyone. But not Sunghoon, not when it comes to you. You swallowed, clenching and unclenching your fingers, feeling your palms growing sweaty as every second passed. You didn't say anything and the man pressed on, using his words to push his knife deeper into your chest.

"Judging from the look on your face, you're clueless, aren't you? Fine, let me indulge you."

He paused, reaching for a file situated on the left corner of his desk. He flipped it opened with practiced ease before sliding it towards you. You leaned forward a little to get a clearer look, immediately finding the paragraphs familiar to you.

"Page twelve," he said.

Your hands moved before you knew it, your fingers brushing against the folder as you pulled it closer to you. You scanned the page, eyes darting over lines of text until they stopped. Your stomach dropped, feeling a pail of cold, freezing water being dumped over you from above.

"The clause is outdated. It contradicts the revised terms submitted last week. Terms you copied, if I recall correctly," he went on, observing you closely, like you're his prey that was hopelessly cornered with nowhere to run.

Your lips parted but you couldn't find your voice.

"I—" You startled, faltering for a split second before you forced yourself to speak. "I must've overlooked—"

"You must've?" He echoed, voice and eyes hardening and yet, that same infuriating calmness of his never left his face. "You must've overlooked a critical amendment in a case file I asked you to review?"

You tightened your grip on the paper, teeth grinding down on one another.

"It was a minor section," you protested, despite how you knew he was right. He always was. "The overall argument still stands and make sense. It's not enough to—"

"Not enough?" He cuts you off for the second time, voice cold and firm, just enough to make you and your words feel insignificant. "Are you even hearing yourself?"

Silence.

Sunghoon leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk, his gaze locked onto yours with terrifying, chilling precision.

"In this firm, there's no such thing as minor. All it takes to dismantle an entire case is one oversight. One mistake is enough to question credibility. Or, do you think you're an exception?"

You narrowed your eyes, borderline scrunching the piece of paper in your hands. Sunghoon's eyes flicked down to the paper before meeting you again, his expression unreadable as always.

"I don't. But it's not like I intentionally—"

"That doesn't matter," he interrupted.

As the saying goes, three times the charm. That was the third time he had cut you off and that too, was the final straw.

"I'm still new. Mistakes happen. It's not unreasonable to expect—"

"What? To be excused?" He smoothly finished for you.

You paused, unable to further defend yourself. Because that wasn't what you meant but in the end, it was exactly how it sounds like. Whether you liked it or not. Sunghoon lets his words lingered in the air, giving you both the chance and room to speak, to say something better, to fix the damage.

But you didn't. Or maybe, you simply couldn't.

"…No, but I can fix it," you finally said, in a quieter voice but there was still a hint of defiance.

Something flickered in his expression but it was gone when he blinked. Sunghoon eyed you before leaning back into his chair, removing his elbows from the desk in the process.

"You will. You'll revise the entire section, cross-check every document and have it back on my desk before the end of the day."

Your eyes widened. "That's—"

"(Name)."

The way he said your name, like it's a threat, a warning along with the utter firmness in his voice was enough to silence you. You clamped your lips shut, knowing there was no way for you to make him change his mind. You nodded, shoulders slumping and Sunghoon nodded, raising his hand to push his glasses up his nose.

"Good, you're dismissed. If I don't see it on my desk, you're fired," he finished, no longer giving you his attention as he returned to looking at his desktop.

You gritted your teeth, shooting up from your seat as you stomped out of his office. Manners and respect be dammed at this point. You needed to get out of there or you would've lost your temper, which could potentially cost you your job and the amount of blood, sweat and tears you've used to get to where you are today.

Baam!

You slammed his door shut with a loud, heavy force on the way out, not caring that it came off as rude or how you were gathering stares following you as you returned to your desk. You threw your notebook, pen and the folder onto the desk, not caring that the pen rolled off, falling onto the floor with a series of clattering sounds.

"Fuck," you cursed at the all-too familiar feeling of something warm and damp stinging your eyes, blurring your vision. The last thing you wanted was to have a breakdown at your desk, where anyone can walked in on you resisting the urge to cry right there and then.

You were so deep in your own thoughts that you didn't sense Heeseung's presence, who wheeled himself to your side, eyebrows furrowed with concern written all over his face.

"Hey, what happened?" He asked softly, reaching out to rest a hand on your left shoulder, watching as you shrink, avoiding looking at him.

You shook your head, teeth sinking into the meat of your bottom lip. "..Nothing, it's fine," you croaked out, your voice slightly hoarse and scratchy as you sniffled.

Your friend sighed, having known you long enough to be able to tell whether you're lying or not. "What did he say this time?"

You choked out a watery and broken laugh despite yourself, raising a hand to rub at your eyes, ignoring how you'd come to regret your decision later. "What did he not say this time? It's a miracle he didn't tell me off in front of everyone."

Heeseung frowned, lips pursed in a thin line. "(Name), maybe you should tell the management."

"And what? What do I tell them?" You retorted. "Tell them that oh hi, I want to make a report that working under Park Sunghoon, who was my childhood friend, is giving me lots of stress and because of him, I'm unable to perform well."

"Yes, but—"

"No, Heeseung. You don't get it, it's not as easy as you think. What do you think will happen after I tell them? You and I both know the management isn't gonna do shit. To them, Park Sunghoon is this fucking god and life savior for saving the firm when it was on the verges of collapsing," you continued, cutting him off.

The man stayed silent, mostly because of two things. Firstly, you are right and secondly, there wasn't much he can say to convince you. Not when you had made up your mind. But that doesn't mean he's not allowed to speak freely.

"Then just tell me this and I want you to answer me honestly: do you still like him?"

Silence.

"I don't," you started, the words coming out too quickly and too obvious. "I mean—why would I? After everything he did, after the way he—"

Your voice faltered. The knowing, pitiful look Heeseung gave only made you felt even worse. Because deep down, the both of you knew you were lying and you weren't telling the truth. A bitter, humorless laugh slipped from your lips, running a hand through your hair with your eyes turning glossy under the overhead lights.

"I hate him," you confessed, your gaze dropping to the floor or your shoes. "I hate the way he acts like I'm nothing. Like we're nothing. I hate how he left without a word, like I wasn't even worth a goodbye."

Your chest tightened, something sharp stabbing right through your heart, feeling the heavy weight settling on your shoulders the more you spoke.

"But most importantly, I hate how he looks at me now… like I'm just another person in the firm."

You paused for a few seconds, plucking up the remains of your non-existent courage, despite the fact both Heeseung and you already knew what you were planning to say. What kind of words that was ready to leave the tip of your tongue.

"But despite all of that, I still love him. I really do."

You let out a shaky exhale, shaking your head like you're able to deny it. If only it was that easy.

"I don't know why. It's been years. He's not the same person anymore. Anyone with eyes can see that. He's… not the Sunghoon I knew and maybe that's the problem. Maybe I'm the problem, for wanting the old him to come back to me. And a part of me is still stuck in the past, still loving someone who doesn't exist anymore."

A pause.

Heeseung sighed, the sound itself speaks volume, speaking more than what his words could possibly carry.

"He doesn't deserve you, you know that? You're too good for him."

You weakly nodded, eyes getting unfocused. "I know, but I can't stop thinking about him."

◟‿୨୧‿◞

You chose to skip lunch—much to your two friends' disappointment as they wished you luck to which you waved it off but was internally grateful and spent the rest of the day slaving away on just one document. The one document that cost you your sanity and draining lifespan.

You pulled out the long list of references you used beforehand, cross-checking all of it more than three times. It's a miracle your eyes didn't get stuck in one place with how often you kept looking between two different pieces of papers. You type, delete, type and only for you to delete again. This cycle kept repeating itself as the hours dragged on.

You weren't even aware of your surroundings—of how more and more people were packing up as they get ready to leave, of how the lights of their desks were turned off, leaving yours still on and how the silence was getting louder and louder until it's loud enough to drown out your thoughts. You found yourself entering the zone, now able to rework on it with full confidence—a huge contrast to how you were a few hours ago.

When you were finally done, you leaned back into your chair and stretched your arms above your head, letting out a long, heavy groan as you cracked your fingers. The sound echoed loudly in the office and it was only when you bothered to check the time, was when you realized you had worked overtime.

Again. Not like it's anything new or shocking, considering the nature of your job.

You got up, groaning at your back pain—a sign of your old age, even though you're still in your twenties. Swiping the folder off your messy, clustered desk, you wasted no time in making a beeline to Sunghoon's office. With how late it was, you were the final person to leave.

At least, that's what you thought.

You came to a stop when you noticed the lights in his office was still on from a far. At first, you assumed he must have forgotten to turn it off in his haste of leaving but it was gone when you now stood before his door. You didn't knock and he didn't see you yet, giving you a chance to see (or admire, like the closeted freak you are.) him in his current state.

His tie and blazer was gone with the top two black buttons of his now wrinkled white dress shirt unbuttoned, revealing his pale skin. You briefly remembered how there were baseless rumors when he first joined, with people wondering if he was a vampire in disguise, due to how pale he was. Sunghoon rested his chin on the palm of his left hand, his long and slender fingers curled over his mouth as he absentmindedly tapped his nose.

Whatever he was looking at has him deep in thought. His eyebrows were furrowed, eyes slightly narrowed with him reading whatever was reflected on the screen. His usual neat and tidy hair was slightly messed up, with random strands poking out in different directions. Some even fell forward, hanging over his eyes, acting like a shield.

The sleeves of his dress shirt were rolled up to his elbows, revealing a delicious pair of arms that can make anyone drooled like a nasty dog. You swallowed, ripping your eyes away and looked up, nearly flinching on the spot when you made direct eye contact with him. For a moment, none of you looked away, seemingly entering a staring contest with you standing outside of his office and him seated by his desk.

Sunghoon raised an eyebrow and you took that as your cue to enter, pushing the door open while clutching the folder in your left hand. You stepped in, your footsteps muffled against the carpeted floor and you stopped before his desk. Your superior torn his gaze away from his desktop screen, looking at you with an unreadable, impassive look on his face.

"I assume you've finished it?" He asked, jumping straight to the point without beating around the bush.

You nodded, wordlessly handing the folder over to him. Sunghoon took it from your hand and flipped it open to read. The next few seconds of tense, thick silence felt like eternity. You shuffled your heels on the spot, curling and uncurling your fingers with your hands resting by your sides. You observed him the entire time, trying to read him but it was easier said than done. You had considered yourself as someone good in reading people via their body languages but when it comes to Sunghoon?

You got nothing.

After what felt like centuries when a solid seven minutes passed, he finally spoke up. He held the folder in his right hand, arms crossed across his chest. Every time he shifted or readjusted his position, it caused his muscles to move as well—something you noticed almost immediately, much to your utter frustration.

"This is more acceptable than your previous work," he said, not praising nor insulting you. Just stating a fact, as simple as that.

Normally, you would retort with something snarky of your own but with how late it was, you were too exhausted to argue with him. You simply nodded, turning and was ready to leave when it's clear he wasn't going to say anything else. Only for him to call out your name, stopping you.

"Wait, I'll drive you home."

What?

"…What?" You turned to him, eyes widening and mouth dropping slightly, dumbfounded, like you couldn't believed your own ears.

But Sunghoon was already moving. He shut down his desktop, slipped his glasses off in one fluid motion as he rose to his feet. He swiped his loose tie and blazer off the stand he hung them on, folding them over his left arm and grabbed his bag placed near his chair.

"I'm not taking no for an answer, (Name). It's already late and there isn't anymore buses or trains left. It'd be faster and safer if I just drive you," he pointed out.

You sighed, hating how he was right and obliged. You stepped out of his office, returning to your own desk. You quickly shut down your desktop, shoving your things into your bag and rushed over to regroup with Sunghoon, who was already waiting for one of the lifts to arrive.

There was some distance between you and him—roughly around fifteen centimeters. You busied yourself in checking your phone, catching up on the messages and notifications you didn't managed to read, not when you were busy typing like your life depended on it.

Ding!

The lift in front of you announced its arrival with a soft 'ding!' sound and the doors opened. The two of you entered with Sunghoon pressing on the B2 button before it closed. Faint classical, jazz music started playing, acting as white noise. You had unconsciously moved to stand in the right corner of the small, cramped space, wanting to be as far away as him from possible.

The silence thickened further as the lift came to a stop, doors opening to reveal the car park located at the second basement of the company. You followed Sunghoon as the man walked over to where his car was parked—a sleek, obsidian-black Mercedes Benz S-Class sat under the dim lights. Its polished surface reflects the cold white glow from above.

He unlocked the car with a soft click, walking straight to the driver's seat without sparing you a glance. You hesitated for a second before moving to the passenger side, the door handle cool under your fingertips. The interior was just as pristine as the exterior—black leather, faint traces of a clean, subtle cologne lingering in the air.

All it took was a simple, gentle press of a button for the car to spring to life. The engine purred to life smoothly, barely making a sound as he pulled out of the lot. The city lights and everything else turned into a blur as he drove, slowly stepping down on the gas with the figure gradually increasing until he's driving at ninety kilometers per hour.

Music was playing from the radio as you looked out of the window, not wanting to look him in the eyes. It didn't help that Sunghoon knew your address by heart—something the younger him have very much proudly boasting at the top of his lungs. You dug your short, clean nails into your face, not caring by the fact that you're leaving indents behind.

You should say something. But what can you possibly say in such a tense, awkward situation? There were so many things you wanted to ask but whenever you opened your mouth, it was like your voice chose that moment to give up on you. There were many, many thoughts swirling around in your mind whenever you think back to the past.

How you could have had it all instead of what you're facing now.

Why did you leave without telling me? Am I not worth a text or a simple farewell? Why did you came back as a completely new person? Who are you now? What happened when you moved abroad?

Instead of asking any of those questions—the very same questions that had been lingering in the back of your mind for the past twenty plus years, the only word you managed to utter out was:

"Why?"

Sunghoon didn't react immediately nor did he even spared a glance, like you weren't worth his attention. You furrowed your eyebrows, now turning your head to him. You observed his side profile—his sharp jawline that can make your fingers bleed if you were to trace it, his slightly cracked and dry lips that were pursed in a thin line with his eyes fixated on the highway road ahead of him.

His silence added more fuel to the growing fire residing deep in you and you pushed on, unable to hold it back anymore.

"Why did you leave without telling me?"

A few seconds of silence passed. For a moment, you thought he would ignore you again, how he will pretend he didn't hear you. But you caught the way his grip tightened on the steering wheel. A subtle action that if it was anyone else, they would have missed it.

But not you. You weren't anyone else.

"You're asking questions about something that has already happened," he said in a flat tone, like he was stating a simple, obvious fact.

You stared at him, rendered speechless before huffing out a incredulous laugh. Sunghoon made a turn to his right, exiting the highway as he entered a street you were familiar with—you were reaching home.

"So that's it? You just leave, go off the grid for years and then come back like nothing happened? Is it wrong for me to care about you?"

His jaw muscles twitched faintly and as per always, he remained silent. And gods, his silence is starting to infuriate you further.

"You wouldn't understand," he replied after a beat, now in quieter and more distant tone.

You narrowed your eyes, fingers twitching with the urge to reach out and slapped him. "Then tell me! You can't expect me to understand when you refuse to say anything!"

The car came to a stop at a red light, the glow casting faint shadows across his face. And finally, he turned to look at you and you wished he didn't. Because there was nothing there. No warmth, no familiarity and gone was the boy you once knew by heart, soul and mind.

"I don't have to explain everything to you," he said, the words sharp and deliberate. Sharp enough for you to feel like you were slapped in the face, leaving a stinging, lingering pain behind.

You couldn't speak, staring at him. Your throat tightened, stomach curling and twisting into itself as he turned back to the road, stepping down on the gas when the light turned green. It's crystal clear the conversation has came to an end and you decided to drop it, not wanting to waste any more of your drained energy to argue with him.

The moment the car came to a stop outside your house, you were quick to jump out of the passenger side, unable to tolerate breathing in the same air as him. You grabbed your bag, slammed the door shut on purpose and stomped your way to your house with your house keys held in your left hand.

The door closed behind you and you tossed your bag onto the floor, not caring whether the content inside was damaged or not. You lowered yourself until you were in a squatting position, arms resting on your knees as you cried. You wept like a fresh new widow who lost her husband to the war when that was far from the truth.

You wept for someone who doesn't deserve your tears, time and attention. You wept for someone who no chose to move on from the past, facing the future with a brand new mindset. You wept for someone who could care less about you.

And if you spent the rest of the night sobbing your eyes out, then that's only for you to know and a secret to keep.

◟‿୨୧‿◞

"Welcome home, sir. Your brother and parents are waiting for you in the dining room," the head butler informed him, in lieu of a greeting, bowing at a sharp ninety-degrees with his gloved hands placed in front of him.

Sunghoon scowled, not bothering to conceal his dissatisfaction as he handed his blazer and tie to the butler, who promptly took it from his outstretched hand. He never liked coming back to a home occupied by his parents. It was always something to do with their long, rich heritage of the Park family in the business industry and how they are practically the backbone of most of the companies.

The man turned, heading to the flight of stairs that will lead to the second floor, having no intentions of meeting them, only to stop when someone called out his name, making him froze.

"Sunghoon."

Resisting the urge to outwardly roll his eyes, he turned to face his older brother—Park Jongseong. He felt like he got shot right in the chest, something ugly curling itself around his heart at how the other man wasn't alone. There was another woman standing close to him, a woman with a very familiar face and someone who he knew for a while now.

He stiffly nodded his head to the woman, who returned it with a warm, polite smile as she bowed slightly, one hand on her chest.

"Sunghoon, it's been a while. How have you been?" She asked.

He sighed, moving to descend the flight of stairs until he's in front of the couple with some distance between them. Sunghoon's eyes darted down to the matching rings they worn before flicking up, swallowing the bile threatening to rise up his throat. His features softened slightly—a rare side that only a selected percentage of people were able to see.

"I'm fine, just busy with work. You know how it is, Areum," he answered.

Areum nodded, her lips covered in a thin, glowing layer of lipgloss curled up in a faint smile. "I understand. I heard you've successfully closed a difficult case. Well done, as expected of Park Sunghoon."

Normally, if it was anyone else who uttered those words, they would've received a cold, piercing glare from him. But Areum was different. She's like the older sister Sunghoon never knew he needed. Someone reliable, mature and clear-headed. Well, there is his brother but between Jay and Areum, he often gravitated to the woman instead, mostly because she was much easier to talk to, as compared to the other, who never fails to take the chance to tease him endlessly.

He let out a light, soft and genuine chuckle. "Thanks, Areum. But it's not something worthy of praise."

And Jay being Jay, snorted from where he stood. "Damn, just take her compliment, would you? It's weird watching you acting all polite."

"Jay!"

Areum scolded her husband, reaching out to deliver a light but stinging smack to his shoulder, drawing a pained hiss from him. Sunghoon snickered, all smug and since he's younger than Jay, he playfully stuck his tongue out—acting like how they were when they were young. His brother resorted to scowling from where he stood while resisting the tempting urge to throw hands with his younger sibling.

Ahem.

Their brief playful moment was rudely interrupted by someone pointedly clearing their throat. The three turned to see it was none other than their father. The very same man who owns the estate they are currently standing in and the very same man who built an industry from nothing. People couldn't believed when they find out he's already in his early sixties due to his still youthful look. Unlike the usual man who's seen shaking hands with shareholders, wearing a warm and professional smile on his face, the man standing before his two sons is the real him.

His eyes jumped from one face to another before landing on Sunghoon's, who didn't flinch nor did he backed down from the sudden eye contact. Just like the younger man, his father had perfectly aced the art of mastering and concealing his emotions, not allowing anyone else to decipher how he truly feels.

"All of you, stop fooling around. You're not children anymore," he started, his voice deep, low and slightly rough around the edges and his gaze lingered longer than usual on Sunghoon.

Sunghoon sworn he saw something akin to frustration behind those pupils but it was gone when he blinked. Without waiting for their response, their father turned and headed to the dining room. The three of them took that as their cue to follow him, not wanting to further worsen his mood.

But then again, the man was always in a bad mood. Which gets even worse when he's around his family.

They eventually arrived at the dining room, which was just as imposing as the rest of the estate—spacious, pristine and formal. A long, polished rectangular-shaped table stretched across the center, its glossy surface reflecting the warm glow of the lights hanging from above. High-backed chairs were arranged with perfect symmetry, each one as uncomfortable as the other.

Everything was meticulously set. Fine porcelain plates, neatly folded linen napkins and silver cutlery aligned with exact precision—untouched, like it's for display purposes rather than anything else. The air felt still, heavy with an unspoken tension that no amount of luxury could softened.

Their mother sat on one of the chairs, allowing her to face the doorway as they entered, moving to take their respective seats without hesitation. Jay sat with Areum, occupying the two vacant chairs opposite of his mother while Sunghoon sat beside the older woman. The final chair that was placed at the head of the table belonged to none other than his father.

No one spoke a word for a few seconds before his father broke it, directing his focus and attention to Sunghoon.

"Sunghoon, you'll be getting married in four months."

The words landed without warning, like a bomb was dropped on him out of nowhere. There was no greetings or no small talks before they dived into the main dish. Sunghoon didn't react immediately, going as still as a statue. The only form of reaction he exerted was his fingers tightening against the table.

Beside him, his mother remained perfectly composed and unfazed, delicately lifting her glass of white wine, like they were discussing something as minor as the weather itself. His brother and wife, on the other hand, had the same reactions as Sunghoon. The couple shared a bewildered look and Jay shot Sunghoon a worried look, but the younger man didn't see it, staring at a random spot of the table.

His father continued, not caring about the storm of conflict happening in his mind. "The arrangements have been finalized. Her family are major shareholders of the company and it will be beneficial to both parties."

Sunghoon slowly exhaled through his nose, finally lifting his gaze to meet his father's. "I'm not interested."

The temperature in the room dropped, the air thickening further. His father's expression darkened, jaw tightening as he leaned back into his chair.

"You don't get to decide that."

"I'm not agreeing to this," his son replied calmly but firmly.

For a brief moment, something flickered in his father's eyes. It wasn't surprise but rather, it was irritation.

"No, you lost the right to make decisions for yourself the moment you strayed away from your responsibilities."

Sunghoon frowned but remained silent, knowing what his father was referring to.

"And we let it happened. Your mother and I were lenient, even when you've embarrassed this family, even when you refused to take over the company, forcing Jongseong to do it instead while you flew to another country. And all for what? To pursue something as trivial as law itself," the man went on, his voice sharpening the longer he spoke.

"We gave you years to correct. To redeem yourself. But it's clear you mistook that for freedom."

Sunghoon narrowed his eyes, clutching onto the utensils so tight until his knuckles turned white. It's a sheer miracle on its own that he didn't snap it into half with how strong his grip was.

"This marriage is the consequence of your actions. You will marry her and you will start acting in the best interest of this family. No more defiance and no more selfish decisions," his father finally ended, each word deliberate and as sharp as a knife.

It's clear the conversation has ended, with the finalized tone his father used—the kind of tone he used when he's standing in front of a board of directors in those meetings he kept attending. Sunghoon lowered his head, his bangs falling forward to shield his eyes as their private bulters and maids started serving them their food.

The previous tense dining room was now filled with the occasional clink-clanking of utensils against porcelain plates and bowls. Everyone ate while chatting among themselves. Everyone but Sunghoon. He has no appetite to eat, not after what he was just told. He hated how his mind constantly drifted back to a certain someone, how every time he looked at her, a part of him was tempted to apologize, to tell her how he felt nothing but utter remorse about everything.

About the way he treated her, brushing her and the rich-filled history they had aside, like it was nothing but mere memories. About how he didn't have a choice in the first place. About how he was forced to do this. It was either flying to another country or risked having his parents controlled his life, leaving him under the mercy of them.

And most importantly, about how he was scared to ruin everything if he were to confess the feelings he had been harboring for a long, long time.

◟‿୨୧‿◞

The weekend passed in a blink of an eye, much to every working adult's disappointment and it was Monday again. You paid your surroundings no mind, holding a cup of warm coffee you ordered from the cafe located opposite of the law firm as you entered the lift, getting squeezed to a corner with more and more people entering. You managed to alight at your designated floor but you barely managed to take more than ten steps before someone threw themself onto you.

"What the-!?" You exclaimed, nearly dropping your precious cup of coffee as you staggered, managing to catch your balance.

"(Name), you need to see this!"

Beomgyu said, ignoring the annoyed glare you threw his way. Before you could say anything, he had dragged you to his desk and Heeseung was already there, scrolling through his phone while eating his breakfast.

"What's up with him?" You asked, pointing at your other friend, who threw himself into his seat, opening the Internet browser and started typing something at rapid speed.

"I don't know, he texted me at six in the morning, telling me how I needs to see this as soon as possible. Dude didn't even bother answering my other questions," Heeseung replied after swallowing his mouthful of food.

You chuckled and took a slow sip of your hot coffee. Beomgyu took that moment to finally show you and Heeseung what was reflected on the screen. You moved closer, reading it over his shoulder. What you you didn't expect was to read the bold and large headline reflected on his desktop's screen, staring back at you, mocking and laughing at you.

The color drained from your face. You tuned out your surroundings until they were reduced to nothing but white noise—the murmurs of the people around you, the sound of footsteps back and forth, the sound of fingers flying across keyboards and the rustling of papers. The cup of coffee slipped from your loose grip, landing on the floor with a loud noise and the fragrant, brown liquid splattered everywhere.

Thankfully, your clothes were out of harm's way but the same couldn't be applied to your heels as some had landed on it. You hissed in pain when the hot liquid landed on your bare skin. Your friends were quick to jump into action. Beomgyu was quick to swipe the tissue box off his desk and handed it to you. You grabbed a few pieces, lifting your right leg to clean the coffee stains, watching as the pristine white tissues turned brown as it soaked up the liquid.

You did the same with your other leg while Heeseung picked up your now empty cup, disappearing to the pantry to toss it away before returning shortly with a mop and bucket that he had filled up with water. You were about to take the mop from him but the man shook his head.

"It's fine, I can do it," he waved you off before you could say a word.

Beomgyu rose to his feet, flashing you an apologetic look. "Shit, I'm sorry, (Name). Maybe I shouldn't have showed it to you."

You shook your head, flashing what you hoped was an reassuring smile to your friend. "You don't have to apologize, Gyu. I'll find out about it sooner or later so thanks for the heads-up."

The two men shared a quick glance. Beomgyu was about to say something when an unfamiliar, polite and unsure voice spoke up, gaining everyone's attention.

"Uh, hello? I'm looking for Park Sunghoon."

Who is she and why is she looking for him?

When you saw her, the first impression that came to your mind was how out of place she looked. Not in a bad way that makes her stood out like a sore thumb. It's different from the usual sharp, intimidating presence that fills the firm. There was a softness to her, something almost hesitant in the way she portrayed herself.

Her hair fell neatly past her shoulders in loose waves, a natural shade that framed her delicate features. Her eyes were sharp but right now, they were wide with uncertain and confusion, obviously lost while trying to locate her designated destination. She worn a cream-colored blouse tucked into a high-waisted skirt that fell just below her knees. The outfit was paired with modest heels, simple and refined.

But most importantly, it whispered quiet wealth rather than loudly announcing it to the world.

Before you could say anything or react, one of your colleagues had approached her. He was kind enough to show her the way, bringing her over to your superior's office. Your eyes tracked her movement until she was out of your sight, unaware of how you had even stopped breathing until Heeseung tapped your shoulder, a worried look on his face.

"You good?" He asked.

"Fine," you answered almost immediately, feeling your world tilting as you returned to your desk in a daze, ignoring how Heeseung called out your name.

You sat down, staring at your desktop and before you knew it, your limbs moved before your mind could processed it. You opened a tab on your Internet browser, typing something and tapped the enter button on your keyboard. You clicked on the first link you see, bringing you to an article—the very same article that Beomgyu showed earlier on.

The headline remained the same. The longer you stared at it, the more tempted you were to grab the nearest thing and throw it at the screen, as if that can magically wiped the article away from the Internet.

'Legal Prodigy Park Sunghoon Announces Engagement to Han Seo-yeon, Heiress to Major Shareholder Family—A Strategic Union That Shakes the Industry.'

You've never felt this much pain in your life where every time you inhaled, a part of your heart shattered. Where every time you think about him, tears welled up in your eyes and you have to swallow it down, the motion itself stiff, awkward and painful.

It's times like this where you get reminded that you may still be stuck in the past, replaying the memories over and over, like a broken cycle. But for Sunghoon, on the other hand, he had moved on, choosing to focus on the present and the future. Even if that meant getting engaged to a stranger with no intentions of telling you.

◟‿୨୧‿◞

Knock knock.

"Who is it?" Sunghoon asked, not lifting his gaze to the door as he continued reading the document laid out before him—the very same document that you had gave it to him last Friday.

"A woman is here to look for you, sir. She said she's Seoyeon," his personal assistant informed him through the internal lines.

He paused when he heard her name. "Let her in."

"As you wish, sir."

Shortly after, the woman—Soyeon entered with a warm, friendly smile on her face. Sunghoon sighed, leaning back into his seat as she stood on opposite of him, with his desk acting as a barrier between them.

"What are you doing here? I thought we agreed for no public appearances unless it's necessary," he asked in a deflated tone.

The woman lightheartedly rolled her eyes as she sat down, elegantly crossing one leg over the other while placing her bag on her lap. "I know, but your father was very persistent in forcing me to make a surprise visit to your office. So, here I am."

He scoffed at the mention of his father, tapping his fingers on the polished surface of his desk. "Did you see the article?"

Soyeon nodded, pursing her lips covered in a shiny layer of lip-gloss, in a thin line. "Yeah, my parents must've been the ones to tell the press so they can release it without telling either of us. I'm sorry about that."

Sunghoon ran a hand through his fluffy, black hair as he let out a long, heavy sigh. Faint exhaustion can be seen in his eyes and across his face.

"It's not like they're willing to inform us beforehand."

The woman eyed him with an unreadable look before asking a question that made his blood ran cold. "I saw her just now. She's very pretty."

The man froze for a second, clearing his throat in an attempt to look composed. "Who are you talking about?"

She lets out a light laugh. "You know who, Sunghoon. I'm talking about (Name). I saw her earlier and it's not hard to notice her. She has that charm that draws you to her without you knowing. I think she saw the article too, judging from the horrified look on her face when she saw me."

Sunghoon tongued the inside of his left cheek and his jaw tightened. "Why are you telling me this?"

Soyeon sighed, her tone switching to a rather motherly tone, like he's her son who's still learning about the world. "Because it's obvious you like her. Anyone with eyes can see that."

He flinched, very much like a cat that got splashed with cold, freezing water. "You're imagining things."

"Right, and I'm the president of Seoul," she dryly retorted.

For the rare, few times in his life, the legal associate didn't know how to react nor what to say. He resorted to narrowing his eyes, scowling and sulking like a child. Soyeon chuckled and rose from her seat, now holding her bag in her right hand.

"Anyway, would you like to join me for lunch?" She proposed, looking at him with an eyebrow raised.

"I suppose, as long as it's not French cuisine again," he joked, rising to his full height while removing the glasses he worn, leaving it on the table as he grabbed his keys, phone and wallet from where the drawer underneath it.

Soyeon scoffed but the glimmer of amusement in her eyes said otherwise. "It's not my fault you're a man with no taste."

Sunghoon shot her an incredulous look, moving to open the door for her, allowing her to step out before he followed suit. "No taste? I'd like you to know I've dined in more than ten Michelin-Stars rated restaurants."

"Oh, is that so? Forgive me, my lord, for I must've struck a nerve," she sarcastically replied and Sunghoon chuckled.

Remembering something, Soyeon quickly slipped her hand into Sunghoon's right hand to intertwine their fingers together. The sudden contact and action made him glance at her from the corners of his eyes.

She flashed him a sympathetic, apologetic smile. "We're in public, so we have to sell it."

Something unreadable flickered across his face but it was gone when he blinked. He didn't like this—the arranged marriage they were put up with, how he's practically a pawn in whatever game both families are playing, being used like a tool. The two walked to the lift lobby together, hand in hand and his eyes automatically moved across the sea of people, searching for someone.

And he locked eyes with you.

You were at your desk, fingers poised over your keyboard while you were working on something that probably needs his attention whenever you're done. What made his heart tightened was how your eyes widened momentarily before returning to its usual size, how your eyes darted between his and Soyeon's face. He can practically imagined the loading logo floating on top of your head as you eventually connect the dots.

You were the first to break eye contact, snapping your head back to look at your screen, like you couldn't handle looking at him. Sunghoon dryly swallowed, allowing himself to be dragged by Soyeon as they entered the elevator that arrived at their floor.

If he has the ability to turn back time, he'd do it without hesitation. He'd do it to apologize, to amend the soon-to-be broken bridge between the two of you. And most importantly, to not be the reason for the amount of tears you've shed, especially when it's all because of him.

◟‿୨୧‿◞

"…llo? Earth to lover girl? Anyone home?"

You blinked, snapping back to reality. "What?"

Beomgyu sighed, waving his chopsticks around in a circular motion, speaking after he swallowed his mouthful of food.

"You weren't listening, were you? Lemme guess, you were too busy thinking about that uptight superior of yours. Seriously, I don't get what you see in him. Sure, he's handsome but compare to this," he paused to gesture at his own face with a cocky, arrogant grin that made you and Heeseung rolled your eyes, "that's nothing."

Beside him was Heeseung, who rubbed the space between his eyes as he muttered a string of words under his breath, no doubt saying his prayers. The three of you were currently having lunch at a famous ramen restaurant near your firm. You wanted to turn down the offer at first but your friends were persistent.

They (more like Beomgyu) kept begging and begging until you gave in, having to shush them (Beomgyu) when they let out a triumphant shriek, which brought you to your current situation. You let out a sigh, stirring the noodles in your bowl. You didn't have an appetite and every time your mind went back to seeing the woman and Sunghoon, you felt the urge to vomit right there and then.

Heat crept up the back of your neck with your ears turning red and warm.

"I wasn't thinking about him," you weakly defended yourself but the looks both men sent you said otherwise.

"Right, and I'm the future president. You looked like you were about to faint when you saw her," Beomgyu (un)helpfully pointed out, letting out a pained yelp when Heeseung roughly elbowed him from the side, nearly sending him toppling out of his seat.

You placed your chopsticks down after forcing yourself to take another bite, swallowing it before answering him.

"What am I supposed to think? I didn't expect he'd do this," you confessed, like you were admitting to a sin you committed.

Beomgyu shared a quick glance with Heeseung before speaking up. Unlike before, his voice no longer carries the casual joking and teasing tone. But rather, he sounds serious—an rare occurence that he only used when the time and situation called for it.

"(Name), I'm telling you this as a friend who's been with you for three years: you need to move on."

You visibly flinched, feeling like you were slapped right on your right cheek and getting an arrow directly shot into your chest. You looked down, staring at a random spot of the table as you avoided eye contact. Someone sighed—Heeseung. He reached out, placed his hand above yours and gave it a light, assuring squeeze. You lifted your head up at the action, meeting his doe-like eyes.

"Beomgyu's right. We've seen the effect Sunghoon has on you and we say this out of the goodness of our hearts, if you continue to live like this—choosing to stay in the past, trying to convince yourself or trying to defend him, then it'd only do you more harm than good," he explained in a soft tone, the kind of tone specially reserved when he's oh so gently giving advice to his colleagues.

"I—I wasn't defending him. I'm fine, I really am," you instinctively replied, trying to defend yourself.

The lie sounds hollow even to your own ears. Heeseung raised an eyebrow, never breaking eye contact as he tightened his grip on your hand.

"No, you're not."

Even though he's being gentle, it doesn't soften the blow at all. You furrowed your eyebrows, feeling a flicker of frustration breaking through your facade.

"You don't get to decide that for me."

"I'm not. I'm telling you what I see."

You stubbornly shook your head, withdrawing your hand, the contact feeling too much with his heat lingering behind. "Both of you are overthinking. He's my boss now. Of course things are gonna feel and be weird. That's all there is to it."

"You know that's not the truth," Beomgyu cut in, his tone still serious and unwavering from Heeseung's left side.

You made a frustrated sound, head snapping to him. "Alright, why are both of you acting like I'm some kind of mess? I'm doing my job just fine, aren't I?"

"That's not the point," Heeseung softly pointed out but there was something else behind it. Something heavier and something you didn't want to acknowledge.

"You can function. You show up, do your work, act like everything's normal," he paused for a second before he continued and honestly, what he said next made you felt like you were punched right in the stomach, "but the moment his name comes up, you fall apart."

You parted your lips, opening and closing but you couldn't say a thing. Not when he's right. Not when he's speaking the truth. Not when he has caught you red-handed.

Heeseung pressed on at your silence. "I'm not saying this to hurt you. I'm saying this because I'm tired of watching you hurt yourself over someone who clearly doesn't care the way you do anymore."

"That's not—"

"Then what is it? Because from where we're standing, it looks like you're still holding onto someone who already let you go," he directly asked, not beating around the bush.

Your chest tightened, something twisting into itself painfully as you dropped your gaze to the table, defeated without knowing what else you can possibly say in a situation like this.

"I just…" You trailed off. "It's not that easy, alright? I'm trying. I really am."

"Nothing about love is ever easy," Beomgyu said, his voice softening now, nearly matching Heeseung's.

"We're not asking you to forget and get over him overnight. But you have to try. Really try. You have to stop giving him so much power over you," he continued and what he said next made your breath caught.

"You deserve someone better than him."

Your throat tightened, vision turning blurry around the corners. You rapidly blinked your eyes, trying to keep yourself together, trying not to burst out into tears, at a restaurant during lunchbreak with your friends sitting opposite of you. As much as you wanted to argue and to defend him, another part of you had finally gotten the closure you needed.

That they were right and maybe, just maybe, it is finally time for you to face the future with a brighter and clearer mind.

When lunch was over with you managing to finish your bowl of noodles, leaving the restaurant feeling lighter with your friends walking on both sides of you. Thankfully, no one bat an eye to your red, swollen and puffy eyes as you shrink into yourself, not wanting to gather any unwanted and unnecessary attention.

You returned to the firm, heading to your desk to grab a small pouch that holds your makeup and other necessities as you headed to the ladies to freshen up. What you didn't expect was for you to bump into someone that made you came to an abrupt halt, standing at the doorway. The woman stood before one of the mirrors, fixing her appearance when her eyes drifted to you, making eye contact via the mirror's surface.

"You must be (Name)," the woman said, her voice gentle and warm, eyes glimmering with something unreadable as she screwed the lid of her lipstick back on with an audible 'click' sound that echoed throughout the space.

You slowly nodded your head. "..Yeah, and you're Soyeon."

Sunghoon's fiance.

She—Soyeon, made a sound of acknowledgment, turning around on the spot to face you. She crossed her arms, the nail polish on her nails seem to glow under the lights from above. You caught the way she scanned you from head toe, like she's searching for something. Maybe it's your weakness. Maybe it's the way you're dressed or how you carried yourself.

Whatever it was, she seemed pleased and satisfied, like she had found something she was looking for.

"Yes I am. I've heard a lot about you and it's a great pleasure to finally meet you," she said, pushing herself off the counter she was leaning on, approaching you with her right hand stretched out.

You accepted the unspoken offer of a handshake, out of politeness and nothing else. You pointedly ignored how you were able to feel the smooth, cool surface of the ring pressed against your fingers during the brief handshake, being the first to drop your hand while clutching onto your pouch, like it has some sort of ability to defend you from her.

"Only good things I hope," you replied, the words all awkward and stiff, like you've forgotten how to speak.

The other woman chuckled, cocking her head to the side. The movement caused her earrings to sway side to side. "Of course, Sunghoon couldn't stop talking about you."

That sentence caught you off-guard. You owlishly blinked your eyes, looking at her like she had spoken in a different language or she had grown another head.

"S-Sunghoon talks about me?" You squeaked out, your voice unnaturally rising an octave, your ears and cheeks turning red, feeling unusually warm.

This time, she couldn't hold back her laughter. She bent forward, hands clutching her sides as she laughed—the sound was light, airy, full of joy and whimsical at its finest. You could only stare at her, not quite believing the woman standing right before you is the very same woman who's the daughter of a famous couple—couple who are none other than the law firm's key shareholders.

Eventually, Soyeon calmed down, straightening herself as she wiped the tears away from her eyes.

"Whew, you should've seen the look on your face. That was funny, but yes. Believe it or not, he does talk about you. Although, talking would be an understatement," she said, something mischievous glinted in her eyes.

You were confused, wanting to ask her what she meant by that but the sound of approaching footsteps and hushed voices caught your attention. Hearing this, Soyeon steeled herself and flashed you a warm, friendly smile.

"I'll see you around, (Name). And trust me when I say this: you should talk to him."

And just like that, she walked out without waiting for your response, leaving you standing there, mind reeling from the conversation you just had. The only things you gained from her was more confusion and of course, more questions than before.

◟‿୨୧‿◞

Days stretched to weeks with everyone being busy and swamped away by their never-ending workload. It's one of the peak periods, which meant more time spent slaving away at their respective desks, more time staring at screens until a migraine starts forming. For a certain legal associate who goes by the name of Park Sunghoon, that meant dealing with more cases, ranging from solving easy, simple cases to encountering the most mind-blowing and baffling cases he had seen in his entire life.

Being a legal associate is hard work and it's also a position Sunghoon took pride in. However, the same couldn't be applied to his family. Or more specifically, his parents. He remembered the day it happened—the very same day where he made up his mind to toss everything aside. His family's reputation, his time spent studying something he clearly has no interest in and the amount of money poured into him, shaping him to be the next successor of the company.

The whole thing happened when Sunghoon was nineteen. Not too young to be considered a child but not too old to be considered a fully-grown, mature adult yet. The thought had been lingering in the back of his mind for a few days now. He hasn't told anyone yet, not even his own flesh and blood. He didn't know when was the appropriate time for him to tell his parents.

What he does know however, is they will definitely be against it. Against his sudden, abrupt decision. He can already foresee it in his mind—their stupefied expressions followed by a mixture of feelings—betrayal, horror and disbelief. Betrayal at the fact that he dared to turn his back against his family. Horror at the bold, unexpected move he pulled. Disbelief as they couldn't fathomed the thought of their very own son, daring to go against the long history of a Park refusing to take over the family's business.

Sunghoon had long packed his things, putting his clothes, things and everything else into his luggage and carry-on. He had booked the tickets behind his parents back, using his own money and will be flying off tomorrow, first thing in the morning. The boy stood at the foot of his bed, staring at his opened luggage with an unreadable look on his face. All that left was to tell his parents and—

"Sunghoon? What are you doing?"

His shoulders tensed at the sound of his older brother's voice. He looked over his shoulder, noting the bewildered look on his face, his wide eyes rapidly darting between the opened luggage and Sunghoon. He caught the moment Jay connected the dots, eyes widening further with his lips parting.

Jay closed the distance in no more than five large strides, invading his brother's invisible personal space. He gripped onto the front of Sunghoon's shirt in a vice-like grip, wrinkling the fabric in the process.

"Can you oh so kindly tell me why there's a luggage on your floor and why does it look like you're about to do something reckless?" Jay demanded, his voice low and serious with him barely able to hold himself back from doing something reckless.

Sunghoon remained silent, eyes averted to the side, having no intention of wanting to face his brother. Jay clenched his jaw at the other's prolonged silence, further brunching his shirt between his fingers.

"Park Sunghoon, you better give me a damn good reason why you're doing this or I'm punching you in the face," he warned him.

Sunghoon sighed, reluctantly turning to face Jay. "I'm flying to Australia tomorrow morning, to study law."

Silence.

Jay stared at him, blinking his eyes once. Twice and thrice before his words fully sank in. The grip on his shirt loosened, his hands dropping and returned to his sides.

"..You're leaving? Is it forever?" He asked.

Sunghoon shook his head. "No, it's just for five years and I'll come back once I graduated. I've already booked the flight tickets and managed to get a dorm to stay on campus. Don't worry about me, Jay-ah."

Jay barked out a loud, incredulous laugh, running a hand through his hair. "Don't worry about you? How can you expect me to stay calm when you didn't tell me until now? Why didn't you say a thing? I'm your older brother!"

Sunghoon scoffed and crossed his arms defensively. "And what about it? Not once have you stood up for me when Father kept forcing me to learn about business. You knew I have no interest in it! You knew my heart was never there in the first place!"

Every sentence he spoke, his voice grew louder and louder until he was hollering at the top of his lungs. It's clear as day that he had been harboring these feelings for a long, long time—how he truly felt as the second son of the esteemed Park Family. Jay, on the other hand, stood rooted to the ground, speechless and startled by his outburst. Sunghoon took his silence as the green light to keep going, the lid long removed.

"Every time we bumped into each other in college, you pretend to not see me. It's like I'm some sort of embarrassment to you! What's so embarrassing about wanting something different from someone else? Whenever Father kept pressuring me, telling me that I need to study hard to be as smart as you, I wanted to tell him, to hell with your stupid company! You only cared about your own futures while forcing your son to work away, like he's a tool."

Jay's eyes widened. This is his first time witnessing Sunghoon's pure, raw and unfiltered fury. "Sunghoon, I—"

"No, you listen to me, hyung. I've tolerated him for eight years. Eight. Years. Eight years of listening to that man forcing me to do this and that, without caring what I truly wanted. Eight years of having to obey his words. It's either that or get disowned from the family."

He paused, letting out a humorless and shaky laugh. It's the kind of laughter that one does when they have lost all forms of hope and when they were being forced into a corner.

"So I decided to leave. I don't care if they are against it. I don't fucking care if they want to disown me. Let them do what they want. Nothing they say or do will stop me from pursuing my dreams," he ended his speech, voice firm and filled with firmness. The firmness of someone who had clearly made up his mind.

Silence.

Jay lets out a long, heavy sigh. His shoulders slumped in defeat with resignation written all over his face.

"…You're right, I've been a horrible brother to you. I wasn't there when you needed me, too caught up in my own world. I should've stepped in the moment I saw Father's persistent attempts to mold you into the son he wants. The type of leader he wants. But Sunghoon, for what it's worth, I'm proud of you."

The second son frowned, confused. "About what?"

Jay's features softened, stepping closer to pull him into a bone-crushing hug. He rested his chin on Sunghoon's right shoulder with his arms tightly wrapped around the other boy's figure.

"For having the courage to throw everything aside and to chase after your dreams. I'm sure you'd succeed and just know that I'll always be proud to call you my brother."

To put it shortly, their parents didn't take his decision well to heart—which wasn't surprising in the slightest. The two of them—Sunghoon and his father, argued like their lives depended on it. Hurtful words and creative insults were thrown at one another without hesitation. His father had the last word. What he said made the younger boy nearly see red.

"Fine. You can go but I want you to remember this for the rest of your life—whatever you do next is not your own decision. It will be decided by me and you have no say in this."

It took all of Sunghoon's self-restraint to hold himself back from saying things he couldn't take back, simply turning to stomp out of the room, slamming the door shut on his way out. He didn't sleep that night, spending the rest of the hours tossing and turning while angrily shedding tears, staining his pillow.

Since his flight bounded to Australia is at seven in the morning, he needs to be at the airport by five latest. He left at three thirty, not wanting to spend another second or minute being under the same roof as his father. The entire house was fast asleep—the way he wanted it to be when he leaves for his flight.

He managed to book an Uber and left for the airport with his house getting smaller and smaller until it was out of his sight. And from that day onward, Sunghoon's Father never viewed him with pride anymore. But rather, it was with disappointment and frustration.

"Huh, never thought I'd see you here."

Sunghoon snapped back to reality, pulled away from his train of thoughts when a familiar voice spoke to him. He straightened himself, looked over his shoulder to see someone standing behind him. Someone who he never thought he'd see again. Not when their last interaction was in Australia.

"Jake? What are you doing here?" He breathed out, confused to see his friend standing right before him in the flesh.

The two were assigned as roommates during their five years spent at law school. They clicked immediately. They are the same age, have lots of common interests and it was also thanks to Jake's help that Sunghoon was able to read, write and speak English fluently. Living in a country that's English-only does that to a foreigner. They also made jokes about how they were fated and meant to be, due to how close they grew.

"I'm on vacation and decided to fly to Seoul. Didn't expect to bump into you though."

Jake smiled, his face brightening up along with as he plopped down into the high stool on Sunghoon's right, turning it to face him with one elbow resting on the countertop. The two men are in a bar. There was a live performance happening right now, with a live band playing—the jazz music they were playing does more than enough to set the mood.

The sounds of people chatting with one another, with the occasional glasses clinking and the sound of cutlery scrapping against the plates echoed in the air, making the bar sounds lively. Sunghoon is a frequent customer of this specific bar, to the point where the staff recognized him and already knew what his orders is with one look at his face.

It was close to nine when he entered the bar, mind lagging with his body starting to shut down after working overtime by spending hours reviewing documents followed by him preparing for a trial tomorrow. A trial for a very serious case, to be exact. Sunghoon sighed and Jake heard it, despite how their surroundings were loud.

"What's wrong man? You looked like you got dumped. I saw the news too," he said, pausing to wave the bartender over, placing his order in fluent Korean with a hint of Australian accent before continuing his sentence, "I didn't take you as the type to move on that quickly."

"It's not real," Sunghoon replied without missing a beat, staring at a random spot of the bar counter. He further elaborated when he felt Jake's inquistive gaze.

"What's not real? The marriage?"

He nods his head.

Jake remained silent as the bartender slide him his order, taking a sip from it before placing it back down on.

"What really happened, Sunghoon-ah? You know you can tell me anything," he asked in a softer tone, like he's talking to a stray, frightened cat he stumbled upon on the streets.

Sunghoon sighed, running a hand through his hair. He absentmindedly caressed the sides of his shotglass.

"I didn't want to be like them, working in the business world and taking over my family's company. That's not what I want but my father refused to see it from my shoes. He didn't want my brother to take over, even though he has passion and interest in it. I, on the other hand, preferred to live in the world of law. I ended up going behind my parents' back, booking plane tickets and enrolling into a law school to fulfill my dreams of becoming a lawyer."

He paused, taking another swing of his alcohol, able to sense his friend's unwavering eyes on him the entire time. Sunghoon placed the now empty glass down, waving one of the staff over to refill it again. Jake noticed this, furrowing his eyebrows with faint disapproval written all over his face but he made no move to stop him. Not when it's clear the younger man needed this.

Once his shotglass was full, he wasted no time in downing it in one go for the second time, barely blinking against the strong taste of liquor going down his throat.

"I didn't tell anyone about my choice. Jay found out by accident and we argued. But he knew no matter what he says, he couldn't convinced me to rethink my decision. I ended up telling my parents and obviously it didn't went well. He ended up letting me go, as the tickets were booked. And then…"

His voice trailed off, starting to zone out with brief memories of the fateful dinner playing in his mind. Jake reached out, resting a hand on his friend's shoulder. The mere contact was enough to snap him out of his trance and he continued, shooting Jake a grateful look.

"And then, my father told me he had set me up for an arranged marriage. Her parents are major shareholders to the company, so the marriage will be helpful to everyone. Everyone except me," he sneered, the final word dripping with disdain that he didn't bother concealing.

Jake clicked his tongue. "Damn, that sucks. Thank god I'm not born into some uptight families." He paused when something hit him and his eyes widened slightly.

"Wait, if you're getting married soon, then what about her?" He questioned and Sunghoon knew who he's referring to, even without saying her name.

"There's nothing I can do anymore. She's just my trainee solicitor. Nothing more and nothing less," he retorted, words borderline slurring with his shotglass being refilled for the third time, to which he gulped it down without second thoughts.

"Yikes, that's harsh but is that what you want? To remain as her superior?" Jake pushed further.

Sunghoon side eyed him, the shotglass now being held in his left hand. "What are you trying to say?"

The previous, usual easygoing expression he had was gone, now replaced with something serious—a rare sight for someone like Jake.

"I'm saying, you're being an idiot."

Silence.

Sunghoon scoffed, snapping his head forward. The abrupt motion made his mind spins and he groaned, squeezing his eyes shut while fighting against the sudden dizziness before reopening them again.

"Watch your mouth."

"No, you shut up and listen to me," his friend fired back, voice growing firmer now. "I may not work in the same firm as you but I know you, Sunghoon. I know what you're doing—you kept shutting her down, acting like she's just another employee, like she means nothing when she means everything to you."

He tightened his grip on his shotglass.

"I'm trying to protect her," he replied, but deep down, he knew that was nothing more than a pathetic lie and a weak, feeble excuse.

"Bullshit."

That one, singular word came out as sharp as a knife. Sunghoon glanced at him from the corner of his eyes but didn't say a thing.

Jake exhaled. "You can keep telling yourself that all you want but it doesn't change anything. Not for you and definitely not for her. What you're doing is a fucking coward move."

That got a reaction from him. Sunghoon's jaw muscle twitched, now gripping onto the shotglass while fighting against the urge to throw it at the wall.

"Sim Jaeyun, I'd watch my mouth if I were you," he warned him in a low tone.

"Why? Because I'm right? Because I struck a nerve?" Jake retorted, unfazed and showing no signs of backing down.

"You don't get to treat her like that just because things didn't go your way. She didn't do anything wrong, Sunghoon. If anything, she's the one who got screwed over when you left without a word, only to become someone she barely knew anymore, like you're nothing more than a stranger."

He remained silent, lips sealed shut but his silence was louder than any response. Jake softened, just a little though.

"Look, if you really don't feel anything towards her anymore, fine. Then act like a decent human being with some manners and give her the closure she needs. Talk to her. Tell her the truth."

Sunghoon looked away, choosing to look out of the windows instead. After all, that was easier said than done. If anything, he'd rather take the truth with him, even when he's on his deathbed.

"Don't just pretend she's nothing to you. Because whether you like it or not, she was something. And from the way you talked about her to that look in your eyes, something tells me you feel something towards her."

Jake paused, letting his words sink in before he speaks up again.

"You're getting married. Married. That's a lifelong bond you'll have and it's not with her. Do you think you can survive watching as she moved on, fall in love with someone else who isn't you?"

Sunghoon didn't respond, not wanting to think about that. The thought of you walking hand-in-hand with someone else, someone that's not him, looking at him with your smile—the same fucking smile that never failed to make his heart melt while giving them that soft, tender and loving gaze, was enough for bile to rise in his throat.

He didn't respond, mostly because he couldn't find the words in him to describe the amount of frustration, insecurity and the huge conflict he had been holding for the past few years. But the way he downed the next shot—faster than the rest, said more than enough.

◟‿୨୧‿◞

You were in the comfort of your couch while slurping instant noodles from a pot as you were catching up on one of your favorite shows when someone knocked on your door. It was faint, barely audible if not for the low volume of the show currently playing on the television. You froze, mouth opened, fork hanging in the air as you were about to take another bite of your noodles.

For a moment, you thought you were hearing things. You didn't move an inch and when it's quiet again, you shrugged it off and continued eating—

Knock knock.

Only for it to happen again. This time, it's louder than before. You sighed, placing your pot on the low coffee table before you as you got up, groaning at the numbness in your toes. You headed to the door, making the mistake of not checking through the peephole, unlocked and opened it. Out of everyone you expected, you didn't expect it to be him.

But he's not alone.

"You don't know me but I know you-Wait, that sounds creepy," the man who's clearly struggling to keep Sunghoon standing upright spoke up, only to mumble to himself under his breath.

You were able to detect the faint Aussie accent in his voice and how he strangely resemblances a dog. Or more specifically, a golden retriever. You stood by the doorway, one hand on the doorknob with your eyes jumping from the two men's faces.

"What happened to him?"

You asked, pointing at Sunghoon whose obviously not alright, considering the evident Asian flush he has, his half-lidded, glossed over eyes and how he's half-leaning and half-stumbling on the spot while trying not to fall face-flat into the hard, solid ground or knocked his head against the doorframe. Although, you would pay good money to see that happen.

Not that you'd wished that on your superior. (Spoiler alert: you definitely would.)

The man had a sheepish look on his face. "He didn't want to listen to me and got drunk."

"I can see that. But why did you bring him here?" You deadpanned.

"Because he kept saying your name."

Silence.

Your breath caught, left fingers curling in on itself as it rested by your side. You stared at Sunghoon, watching as his usual cool, composed and collected demeanor was torn down, now replaced with him drunk, body swaying side to side on the spot. This wasn't the superior you're used to seeing at work, the man who kept pushing you away and never failed to remind you of your position.

No, this is just Park Sunghoon in all of his glory. The raw, unfiltered version of him that you've never seen before.

"..I think you got the wrong person," you ended up saying, grabbing onto any last hopes to push him away. Heeseung and Beomgyu's words echoed in your mind—a reminder and a gentle push to the direction you're supposed to go.

The man arched an eyebrow, pulling out a phone—Sunghoon's phone, from his own pocket and turned the screen around, showing the lockscreen—Sunghoon's lockscreen. What you saw made the air left your lungs, like you were punched right in the guts.

It was you.

Not the current you, now employed and working in the law firm. But rather, the you eighteen years ago. The picture of you was taken with you mid-laughing, head slightly tilted back with your eyes crinkled in a way that made them disappeared completely. Sunlight hits your face at just the right angle, all soft and warm. It even managed to catch the stray, loose strands of your hair.

It wasn't a posed picture nor were you looking at the camera. Heck, you didn't even know it was taken.

"…He took this," You whispered, more to yourself than anyone else.

Your fingers twitched at the side. A strange, unfamiliar feeling settled itself in the depths of your stomach as you stared at the screen. You vividly remembered the day crystal clear. It was an ordinary, regular day, just like any other day there is in the year. You spent the entire day with Sunghoon—from chasing one another, to going to playgrounds or parks to walking home together at the end of the day.

But the same couldn't be applied to him. Just because it was ordinary to you, it wasn't to him. The man observed your expression and reaction carefully, something sharp glimmered in his eyes.

"Yeah. He did."

You remained silent, mind spinning with what you just seen. None of this make sense. The man you once knew—the one who looked at you like you were nothing, who spoke to you with tight politeness, drawing the lines between the two of you and occasionally being unreasonably harsh towards you, doesn't match this.

"Still think you're the wrong person?" The man asked in a gentle, knowing tone.

You parted your lips but couldn't find it in yourself to say a single word. Instead, you opened the door wider, moving to the side to give them space.

"..Come in."

The man—who goes by Jake, left after he set Sunghoon down on the couch. His annoyingly long legs nearly knocked your pot of noodles down to the floor if you didn't move it out of the way in the nick of time. And now, here you are—at eleven on what was supposed to be a peaceful Friday night for you to wind down from work, resulted in you getting an unexpected guest.

The guest being none other than Park Sunghoon himself.

It's clear he passed out the moment his head touched the cushion of the couch, falling asleep right there and then while remaining blissfully unaware of his surroundings or the fact that he wasn't in his own house. You stood by the foot of the couch, your show long forgotten as you looked down at the man in pure exasperation.

"Great, what do I do now?" You muttered under your breath, running a hand through your hair, your brain struggling to think of your next move.

You left the living room, shortly returning afterwards with a damp towel held in your hands and a stack of neatly-folded oversize clothes. You moved closer, now standing closer to him as you bend over from your hips, reaching out to gently dap the towel on his face—an attempt to clean him up. He didn't stir much, allowing you to do as you pleased—much to your relief.

However, the relief didn't last long. When you moved the towel down to his neck, the fabric grazing against his sharp, precise jawline, he reacted. One moment you were on your knees. The next moment, you were being pulled upward. You let out a startled yelp, your vision turning sideways as the towel fell from your grip.

You let out a strangled "oof" when your face was awkwardly squashed into his neck with his arms securely wrapped around your figure, locking you in place as he hugged you, like a koala bear clinging onto its mother. Your hands were poised awkwardly in the air, like you're uncertain if you're allowed to touch him or not despite how Sunghoon is literally hugging you like there's no tomorrow.

Your mind blanked out when he pulled you closer, if that's even possible in the first place as he groaned, furrowing his eyebrows, like he's having a nightmare. You moved your head away as you placed one hand on the armrest of the couch while the other on the back, pushing yourself up with your knees on both sides of his thighs.

Your face was bright red when realization hits you at the rather… scandalous position you're in. It's almost like you're about to ri—

"No, this is fucking stupid. Get a grip of yourself," you muttered, wildly shaking your head side to side to get rid of any unwanted, distracting thoughts in your mind.

You picked up the towel, ready to walk away when Sunghoon's hand shot out to grab your wrist. Your shoulders tensed at the mere contact, freezing on the spot. You didn't dare to look at him, not wanting to see him wide awake and looking at you. And despite that, you decided to risk it and sneak a quick peak over your shoulder, only for you to heave a sigh of relief when you're greeted with the sight of Sunghoon sleeping peacefully with his eyes closed.

You reached out with your free, clean and dry hand, ready to pry his hand away from your wrist when you saw his lips moved, almost like he was saying something. Curiosity getting the better of you, you inched closer, bending forward a little to hear him better and then—

"…Don't go…"

The words were barely audible, all slurred, fragile and weak, like they will shattered with just one simple push. You went as still as a statue, breath hitching and your heart did a somersault when his grip on your wrist tightened, just slightly, like he's afraid you might slipped away from him, even when he's asleep.

"…Just… stay… a little longer…"

What?

Your heart stuttered. It stopped beating for a moment when you fully registered the words he whispered. You knew he was merely talking in his sleep—something anyone can do. And besides, he's drunk. But as the saying goes, 'drunk words are sober thoughts', you hated how a small part of you felt hopeful—something you haven't felt for a long time.

"I…I didn't mean to…" He murmured, furrowing his thick eyebrows slightly, too deep into whatever dream he was having. "I thought… it'd be easier for you if I just…"

His voice and words trailed off, uncertainty seeping into them. You hated how you were waiting with bated breath, anticipation pumping through your veins, dying to know what he was planning to say next.

"..I still miss you…"

The silence that followed afterwards was heavy, thick and deafening. You couldn't hear anything else, other than your own loud, rapid beating of your heart that seems to echo throughout the four walls of your living room.

And just like that, everything you tried so hard to bury, to ignore and to convince yourself that the past doesn't matter anymore. Especially when you were about to embark on a journey, to start the slow, long-term process of moving on. All of it was washed down the drain and you've never been this conflicted in your entire life.

◟‿୨୧‿◞

What the? Where am I?

Sunghoon woke up to find himself laying on a couch that was too small for him. He looked around, noting the unfamiliar but familiar walls. The man pushed himself up, only to hiss when his head spins, causing him to stop as he clutched the side of his head, only shifting when the giddiness stopped. He sat up, groaning at the lingering backache from the uncomfortable position he slept in and it then hit him.

He's in your house.

"What the fuck happened?"

He murmured to himself, trying to recall the series of events leading to this but he came up empty. No matter how much he tried to think back, all he got was a blank space, hitting the dead end. Sunghoon clicked his tongue, annoyed at the wide gap in his memory. Before he could ponder over it, he heard the sound of soft footsteps coming from his right.

His muscles tensed up, already knowing who it was without looking back.

"Oh, you're up. How are you feeling?" You asked, acting like everything's perfectly fine and dandy when it's far from normal.

Sunghoon swallowed, clearing his throat as he pointedly faced the front, staring at the outline of his figure reflected on the blank television screen before him. "Better now, still have a slight hangover but I'd get over it. I should get going."

He hurriedly said the last sentence, not wanting to make you anymore uncomfortable. Or maybe, just maybe, he didn't want to give you the wrong idea. The wrong idea that there's something between the two of you. If he listened closely, he can imagine Jake going off at him again, probably telling him off about how stupid he is but he quickly shoved his friend out of the window.

You stopped, now entering his sights and you slowly turned on the spot to face him. His eyes flicked to your direction, only for him to do a double-take when he realized you had dressed up more than usual. Even more than you during working hours. Sunghoon couldn't helped with the way he scanned you from head to toe with his eyes, taking in your figure, forgoing the thought of being subtle.

You worn a soft, form-fitting dress in a muted pastel shade that complemented your figure perfectly, the fabric hugging your waist before elegantly falling to just above your knees. The neckline was modest but the way it framed your collarbones along with a silver necklace resting just above, drew attention without trying.

A light cardigan loosely hung off your shoulders, sleeves pushed up to your arms, giving you a soft and almost effortless look. Your heels were simple, not too high or low but enough to add a hint of confidence from where you stood. Your hair wasn't how it was at work and one look was enough to tell him that you had styled it, with soft waves framing your face, catching the light whenever you moved.

It makes you looked…

Sunghoon swallowed for the second time.

Stunning.

There was no other word for it and he hated how the thought immediately came to him. He's so caught-up in his mini staring game that he wasn't aware you had noticed it. Noticed how his gaze lingered longer than usual. Noticed how his eyes kept flicking down to your lips. Lips that were covered in a noticeable, glossy shade of lip-gloss. Lips that looked kissable.

To be more specific, lips that he wants to kiss.

You frowned at the prolonged silence and how he kept staring at you. "Is there something wrong?"

No. Yes. You look beautiful. Stay here with me. I'm sorry for how I've treated you. Please come back to me.

Instead of saying any of those sentences, he asked a question instead, with the words slipping from his mouth before his still half-asleep brain could processed it.

"Where are you going?"

Silence.

Sunghoon internally cursed at himself the moment it slipped. You paused, body already angled towards the door, only to freeze when his voice pierced through the silence. You looked over your shoulder, confusion written all over your face. And gods, he desperately wished he can just get up, closed the distance and kissed you until you're gasping for air, until you're begging for him and until you didn't want to leave anymore.

But he held himself back, which proved to be a difficult task for someone who always keep his cool. Not when it comes to you though.

"Uh, I'm going out. Why?"

"With who?"

Not when you're dressed like that. Dressed like you're the main character and how you're gonna draw attention from everyone. Everyone who's not me.

He saw the way you narrowed your eyes and how you ran your thumb over your knuckles—something you do when you managed to pick up something about him. Up to now, it felt like you have some sort of hidden, secret ability to read his thoughts. Like you're a mind-reader and honestly, if you truly were, it will make his life so much easier—not that he'd dare to say it out loud.

"Why are you asking?" You fired back with a question of your own.

Sunghoon stubbornly remained silent—his signature move and you scoffed, making a show of rolling your eyes.

"I'm going out with Heeseung. We're gonna have lunch."

The moment those words left your mouth, something in the air shifted. It was small but it was unmistakable. The air thickened, so thick that one can sliced it apart with a mere butter knife. His eyes darkened a shade, now resting his elbows on his thighs with his legs spread slightly. He intertwined his fingers together—to prevent himself from doing something as reckless as kissing you right there and then.

He exhaled through his nose and looked to the side. "Right. Of course."

Even though he muttered it under his breath, you caught it. Of course you did. You swallowed the sudden rise of irritation that shot up when you heard his words. You crossed your arms, tapping your fingers on your arms while boring holes into his head. If looks could kill, he would've died on the spot.

"What's that supposed to mean?" You asked, sounding defensive but you couldn't help it.

"Nothing," he snapped, his tone cold and harsh—exactly how he sounds like in the office.

In a poor, feeble attempt to distract himself, Sunghoon stood up and ran a hand through his messy hair. He looked everywhere but you, like it's painful for him for his eyes to land on you. And to him, it is painful. Painful that you actually put in effort to meet someone. Most importantly, it's another man. He knows you and Heeseung are close, often seeing the two of you hanging out together whenever Beomgyu was too busy with work.

He remembered watching from wherever he was with a tight jaw, a vice-like grip until his knuckles were turning white, as you conversed with Heeseung. Sunghoon couldn't do anything but to watch, like a bystander, as someone made you laughed until you were shedding tears, until you were gasping and wheezing for breath, until your entire face lits up the entire room—

"I wasn't aware you have plans," he added after a moment, his tone forced into something neutral but the tightness in his voice gave it away.

You didn't catch it, too busy trying not to lose your mind at how weird he's acting. "Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't know I'm supposed to report my schedule outside of work to you."

It's clear you were being sarcastic and honestly, you weren't in the wrong. Sunghoon looked out of the window, noting how blue the sky looks today. He hated how his heart tightened with ache at your bluntess, at how you didn't hesitate to stand your ground. But that was one of the many things he loved about you.

"..Right."

He said quietly and he should stop there. Should let you get going but there was another part of him. Another small, selfish part that wants to keep you here, in the same room as him, as long as possible. Forget Heeseung.

"And you dressed up for that?"

A wave of regret hits him immediately after that. He should say something but it was too late. The damage was already done. You gawked at him, mouth wide open with a mixture of emotions written all over your face—anger, frustration and most importantly, disbelief.

Sunghoon sank his teeth into his bottom lip, shoving his hands into the pockets of his pants to hide how he had curled them into tight fists, actively restraining himself.

"What the fuck are you trying to say? God forbid me from wanting to dress up. It's not like we're going on a date," you retorted, shoulders trembling in rage with the flames gradually rising.

Sunghoon glanced at you from the corner of his eyes and looked away. "..Whatever, it's none of my business. Go on. I won't hold you back any longer. I can see myself out."

You stared at him, rendered speechless with his rude, cold behavior.

"Seriously, what the hell is wrong with you!? You should be grateful that I even let you into my house in the first place. If not for Jake, you would've been lying on the streets. But since you don't care about anything other than work and that fiance of yours, what else do I really have to say?"

You sneered, pausing for a second to let the words sink in before you continued, practically spatting them out, like the words are nothing but toxic venom. And Sunghoon can feel your hatred just from those words alone.

"This is the last time we'd be seeing one another out of work. Never ever try and talk to me again. Good fucking bye, Park Sunghoon. You're a fucking asshole and I hope you know that."

You didn't wait for his response, spinning to stomp out of your house, aggressively slamming the door shut with a loud, ferocious force that it's a miracle it's still attached to the hinges. Once you were gone, Sunghoon collapsed into the couch. He covered his face with his hands and groaned, the sound muffled and full of nothing but pure agony.

"What have I done?"

◟‿୨୧‿◞

You started avoiding Sunghoon ever since then but it was easier said than done. The fact that you're working in the same firm is one thing. But the other fact that you directly report to him is another different thing. However, you weren't blind to notice the small but gradual changes about him.

One good example will be when you were pulling another all-nighter, trying to read through the countless and seemingly never-ending case files spread out before your desk. Sunghoon had accepted a case but unlike any other cases, this was probably the most baffling case you laid your eyes on in your entire life.

At first glance, it was simple—just another hit-and-run case. But that was just the tip of the iceberg. It was thanks to Sunghoon who discovered something was amiss when he read through the report, constantly replaying the CCTV footage he managed to get a hold on, again and again like a broken cycle and that's when it hits him.

"Your report is missing something," he spoke up out of the blue.

After sitting in silence for the past few hours or so in Sunghoon's office, you jerked in your seat when he said that sentence, horribly catching you off-guard. It didn't help that you were exhausted as well, fighting the urge to fall asleep right there and then.

"What is?" You asked, confused.

"The accident was reported at 11.42pm but she passed the intersection at 11.39pm."

You blinked, still not following along. You watched as Sunghoon grabbed a pen and flipped the document to the other end, writing down the timestamps in neat, precise strokes. You had to wheel your chair towards his desk to get a closer look.

"There's a three minutes difference. That's barely enough time for impact, panic and escape, especially on a road with traffic lights and cameras."

Your eyes widened when you started to connect the dots. "…Unless she didn't stop."

"She would've had to slow down at the junction, no matter what," he pointed out.

"So the timeline is off," you concluded.

Sunghoon nodded in agreement, locking eyes with you. "Yes, and that it's done by someone else."

For some reason, you didn't look away from him, like you were having your own moment—just like those moments shared between the two leads in a Kdrama. Time seemed to slow down with everything coming to a stop. You caught the way his eyes flicked down to your parted lips. For a split second, you thought he was about to do something reckless but instead, he broke eye contact and pointedly cleared his throat.

"Let's stop here for today. I'll drop you off since it's late," he said, voice tense.

You mutely nodded, moving to pack your things while replaying the brief moment you had in your mind. You weren't sure why but maybe it was the way he looked at you. Maybe it was that certain look in his eyes. Whatever the actual reason was, you couldn't put a finger on it and you shrugged it off, not wanting to think twice about it.

What you didn't know however, was that was just the start. The start of Sunghoon attempting to redeem himself.

◟‿୨୧‿◞

Another example happened one week later, after the trial was successful in Sunghoon's favor. The client—a woman, was on cloud nine, profusely thanking him and you for saving her life. You had to swallow the sudden surge of irritation when the woman boldly embraced him while shedding happy tears. You knew the gesture doesn't mean anything and how she did it out of pure gratitude.

But that doesn't mean you were blind to how something ugly made itself known as it curled around your heart before sinking its claws in. Something painfully similar to jealousy.

You're being stupid. Why are you getting jealous? It's not like you're his fucking girlfriend.

You shook your head to clear your mind of the distracting thoughts, not wanting it to further ruin or dampen your mood. You felt something sharp being lodged deep in your heart when she rested her hand on his arm, fingers spread out, like she wants to touch more of him. The last straw comes in the form of her stepping closer, invading his invisible personal space and how he stiffened—a subtle move that didn't went unnoticed by you, made you stepped forward.

"Excuse me, Mam, we have somewhere else to be, so if you could excuse us," you loudly said, gathering the attention of the people around you as they looked at you with matching curious stares.

You smoothly inserted yourself in between the woman and Sunghoon. To anyone else, it would be an amusing sight—for you're shorter than your superior and compared to him—someone who often goes to the gym twice per week, he gives off the appearance of someone who knows how to handle himself. You didn't turn around to face him, already able to visualize his surprise with how you rescued him.

The woman was stunned, owlishly blinking her eyes a few times, evidently flustered. She then lets out a strangled, forced laughter, pretending everything was fine when it's not.

"Oh, right, sorry about that. If that's the case, then I won't keep you waiting," she said, bowing slightly before excusing herself, walking away with her face bright red in shame.

You spun around, glaring at Sunghoon and scoffed when you made eye contact. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Like what?"

Like the way you used to, back when we were kids.

Your lips remained sealed shut, not wanting nor having the courage to utter those words out loud.

"..Forget it, let's go. We have another case on our hands," you muttered, walking past him with him easily matching your pace. Even when you refused to glance at him, you can feel the intensity of his firm, unwavering gaze.

Maybe it was the trick of the light or maybe your vision is starting to deteriorate but you sworn you saw something akin to softness when you risked a glance at him as both of you walked side by side. If Sunghoon stepped closer until the fabric of your blazers brushed against one another and how you didn't step away, then that was your secret to keep.

◟‿୨୧‿◞

The last and final example took place at a company dinner that took place at a five-stars hotel. Your jaw practically dropped to the floor when you arrived with Heeseung and Beomgyu, unable to believe what you were looking at. Beomgyu was the first to react as the three of you entered the lobby, following the directions provided to one of the major event rooms where the dinner will be taking place.

"Jeez, I know the company's rich but not this rich!" He hissed under his breath, eyes wildly darting left and right, trying to take in the grand and majestic hallways he's in.

Heeseung nodded along. "Yeah, but didn't the email stated the purpose of the company dinner was to thank everyone for their hard work?"

You couldn't help but scoffed, looping your hands through both Heeseung and Beomgyu's arms as you dragged the two men to the designated room, with the guards letting you in.

"Alright gentlemen, let's not talk about work after hours. Let's just eat and enjoy the moment, shall we? Free food is food," you said.

One look around was enough to know whoever was in-charge of the decorations, they had gone over the top. The hall was breathtaking—high ceilings draped with cascading chandeliers that covered the entire room in a warm, golden glow. Floor-to-ceiling windows lined on one side, revealing the city skyline as it glittered like a sea of stars.

Round tables occupied the floor in pristine white linen with each centerpiece adorned with different kinds of fresh flowers and delicate glass ornaments that caught the light here and there. Along the far end was where your destination was, waiting for you—the long spread of food that seems to stretch almost endlessly.

It has everything—from gourmet canapes to full-course dishes plated like pieces of art. Soft classical music instrument played in the background from a live band, perfectly setting the mood and it was loud enough to fill the silence without countering the chatters. Everyone put on their best outfits for tonight's dinner—tailored suits, elegant dresses and polished shoes that clicked against the marbled, polished floor.

Laughter came here and there as people mingled among themselves, talking about everything and anything at the same time. Unlike the usual stiff, tense and fast-paced atmosphere everyone was used to, this was more softer, relaxed and lighter. It felt like a much-needed break to everyone, considering how hard they had worked.

"I don't think insane is enough to describe all of this," Beomgyu continued, grabbing a plate for himself as he greedily helped himself to the wide selection of food, filling his plate up in no time.

You snorted as you grabbed a plate for yourself, walking behind him with Heeseung behind you. "Told you so. Less thinking and more eating. We gotta eat our salaries' worth."

Heeseung laughed, the most relaxed as compared to the two of you as he grabbed some food here and there. "I swear, both of you are unbelievable."

Beomgyu was about to retort with something when a group of colleagues standing nearby shouted his name. He turned to them before back to you and Heeseung, looking conflicted, like he doesn't want to leave the two of you alone. You made the choice for him, shooing him away, like he's some sort of pest.

"Go on, we'll be fine. Just find us whenever you're done," you said.

Beomgyu dramatically gasped, placing his free hand over his chest. "You traitor!"

He exclaimed as he was being dragged towards the group of colleagues who had been eagerly waiting for him, excitedly slapping him on the back. You and Heeseung watched from the sidelines as he effortlessly fall into their conversation within seconds, blending in with them, like the true social butterfly he is.

Heeseung sighed, shaking his head while taking a bite of his food. "Poor guy. Let's hope he's still sober by the time it's over."

You let out a sudden, loud laugh, startling the people around you and slapped a hand over your mouth. "I don't know about that. I think he'd be gone before it ended."

At that, the two of you walked around the room while chatting with other people, exchanging small talks or catching up with colleagues from different departments. It's easy like this—allowing you to temporarily escaped from reality as you chatted about anything but work. It's the kind of conversations that comes naturally, without the weight you had been carrying for the past few days.

Eventually, Heeseung oh so kindly led you to one of the tables for you to sit down, take a breather and relaxed your legs. You practically heaved a sigh of relief the moment you sat down, leaning over to rub at your slightly swollen feet.

"Maybe it was a bad choice for me to wear heels," you complained, straightening yourself as you leaned back into the chair, holding your plate with your left finger while trying to finish the remains on your plate.

Your friend chuckled, diagonally sitting on your left with one leg crossed over the other. "You could've worn sneakers and no one would've bat an eye."

You gasped, shooting him an incredulous look. "That would ruin my outfit!" You gestured to yourself. Just like the other ladies, you were dressed in a dress that fits the guidelines of the company dinner.

It's a sleeveless black dress with the hem reaching just above your knees. The length itself is modest enough but the way it hugged your body in the right areas was enough to gather stares with some daring to look longer than usual. You may not have noticed it—the effect you have but the same doesn't apply to a certain someone.

Someone who had been watching you the entire time, right from the moment you stepped into the room. Sunghoon nearly dropped his glass of half drank white wine when you entered, feeling his breath leaving his lungs. His mind blanked out at how stunning you looked, easily drawing everyone's eyes onto your approaching figure, whether they knew it or not.

That's another thing Sunghoon loved about you—how you're able to capture the entire room's attention without lifting a finger. He watched with a tight jaw, hands nearly snapping the glass into half in his vice-like grip as you were deeply engrossed in a conversation with Heeseung. From where he stood, he was able to get a clear view of how you leaned in slightly to say something into the man's ear, followed by you laughing as you covered your mouth with your hand after he made a joke.

Seriously, is he really that funny?

Sunghoon sulked, downing the rest of the wine in one go, not even flinching when someone threw an arm around his shoulders. He didn't have to turn to know who it was, for there was only one person who dares to lay a hand on him.

"Damn, you're beyond whipped, lover boy. Stop glaring and do something already. Did you remember what I told you?" Jake snickered, earning a nasty, signature side eye from the pale man.

"I know, I tried to make up for it by starting small," he replied, recounting the small, little but precise moments that happened with you to Jake—how he drove you home, how he stood up for you and how he didn't raise his voice at you, point out your mistakes and the list goes on.

His friend whistled, impressed once he was done. "Damn, didn't know the Park Sunghoon is capable of putting in effort in something that's not related to work."

He groaned. "Jake."

"Right, my bad man. So, when are you gonna man up and talk to her?"

Sunghoon went silent, eyes automatically and unconsciously drifting towards you, watching as you were now telling Heeseung something while wildly flailing your arms about like a wild, frantic chicken as you were retelling what seemed to be a thrilling story, judging from the starry look in your eyes and how they were practically glowing.

When was the last time you looked at him like that?

Sunghoon sighed, robotically facing the front while swiping off another glass of white wine from a tray of a passing waiter. He swirled the glass, watching as the colorless liquid sloshed around before taking a slow, deliberate sip.

"…Not yet, Jake. I don't want to mess this up."

Jake rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. "Really? That sounds like an excuse than anything else. You know what it sounds like? It sounds like you're scared. And that you're a fucking coward."

"You've already said it before at the bar."

"Yeah, but it's clear nothing has changed. Which is why I'm repeating what I said before. Park Sunghoon, get your fucking shit together before you lose her. Forever. Once you're married, you can't go back anymore."

"I know that!" Sunghoon snapped. His sudden outburst drew the attention of the people around him but they didn't think twice, returning to their respective conversations.

"I know I'm a coward but what am I supposed to do, huh!? Tell me! How does one even tell someone he truly love and cherish with his entire heart that they are sorry for the things they have done and said? Do you know how painful it was for me to get through every day, when she's so fucking close but so far from me!?"

Jake's eyes widened, cursing under his breath as he looked around, to see more and more people were now looking in their direction.

"Uh Sunghoon, you might wanna lower do—"

"Do you have any idea how much I want to apologize to her, wishing I could turn back time, go back to the past where everything was fine, just like the way it used to be? How I didn't want any of these? How I didn't want anything else but just (Name) by my side? That's all that I care about!"

"Sun—"

"Then tell me, why the fuck am I still standing here doing nothing!?" His voice cracked at the end, louder than he intended—whether he knew it or not.

Silence.

"Sunghoon."

Your voice cut through everything, as sharp as a dagger but it's clear and unmistakably yours. His breath hitched in his throat, fully turning around and there you were, standing just a few feet away from him with an unreadable look on your face. He couldn't helped but wondered if this was how you felt while trying to decipher his feelings but the thought was kicked out of his mind when you approached him, closing the distance in no more than six large strides.

Your hand shot out, grabbed his wrist. The sudden contact made him flinched, startled and his eyes snapped down.

"Come with me."

It wasn't a request but rather, it was a demand—giving him a sense of deja vu. But Sunghoon didn't resist or say anything. He allowed himself to be pulled through the gathered crowd, turning a blind eye to the multiple, curious stares and the whispers following you like a shadow. Jake remained silent, watching from where he stood. He can only prayed that whatever happens next won't end up on the news.

◟‿୨୧‿◞

You didn't stop walking until you reached a secluded corner of the long hallway, until you were far enough that the noise from the dinner event was reduced to nothing but a distant hum. You came to a stop, dropping his hand and sharply turned to face him. Your chest rose and fall, the emotions you had buried for so long were clawing their way back to the surface, threatening to break free.

"Park Sunghoon, what the hell was that all about?" You demanded, your voice low but borderline shaking.

The man—your childhood friend didn't respond. He simply stared at you, like he hasn't seen you in years, like you were something he wasn't sure he was allowed to look at, like you were nothing more than a figment of his imagination. And that whatever was happening right now, is nothing more than a dream.

You clenched your fists, nails digging into your palms hard enough to leave indents behind. "I asked you a question. Answer. Me."

He swallowed. "…You weren't supposed to hear that."

You stared at him and let out a disbelief laugh, the sound wreck, sharp and fragile. "Oh, I'm sorry. Should I have covered my ears and let you yell your feelings out in the middle of a company dinner?"

"That's not—" He stopped himself mid-sentence, exhaling in frustration. "That's not what I meant."

"Then what is it? I don't know about you but it sounds pretty clear to me," you shot back, stepping closer now. Your eyes were glowing with flames of anger, like you're desperately trying to rip the truth out of him.

Silence.

It stretched until you were about to walk away when—

"I'm sorry."

The words were quiet, barely above a whisper. And yet, they hit you harder than any of his previous cold, ruthless words. You froze, heart nearly stopped beating in your chest when you heard it. You thought your ears were playing tricks on you and that you were mishearing things.

"…What?"

"I'm sorry. For everything," he repeated, his voice much steadier this time but it's still packed with the same amount of rawness.

You narrowed your eyes, your fight mode instinctively kicking in. It was one, last and final attempt to distance yourself before you dug a deeper grave for yourself.

"No. No, you don't get to do that now," you said, frantically shaking your head as you took a small step back.

"(Name), I know I don't deser—"

"Don't say my name or anything else. You don't get to just fucking stand there and say sorry like it fixes anything," you interrupted him.

"I know it doesn't fix anything."

"Then why not!? Why now, Sunghoon? After everything you've done. After the way you treated me, you suddenly what? Feel gulity? You think your pathetic apology can mend everything? Can it bring back the past!?"

Your voice cracked, leaving you to shriek and scream at the top of your lungs in the hallway. You no longer cared about maintaining professionalism, not when you're in front of the man who had seen you at your worst and best. Not in front of the man who you came to love with your entire soul, only for him to toss you aside, like you were nothing. Like you weren't worthy.

He flinched—such a small movement but you saw it.

"You're right, I apologize because I felt gulity," he admitted, his voice low and defeated.

Your breath caught.

"And because Jake's right. If I don't do something now, I'll lose you forever. And honestly? That fucking terrifies me," he continued, running a hand through his hair in frustration, messing it up in the process.

The pure, raw and unfiltered honesty made your heart skipped a beat and your breath stuttered in your throat. But you didn't let it show, refusing to show him the effect he still has on you, much to your disappointment.

"You didn't seem scared when you treated me like I meant nothing. Or when I was just another employee," you pointed out, each word deliberate, like you had taken great care to choose them out of the entire dictonary.

"I was a coward."

You blinked, not expecting the sudden confession. "Yeah, you are one. Why did you do that? Why did you pushed me away, looked at me like I'm nothing? Like I'm just another employee?"

The man lets out a shaky breath, the sound itself so painful and raw it made you want to step closer to hug him. But you held yourself back.

"I thought if I do that, you'd be able to find someone better. Someone who deserves your love, your smile, your kindness, your attention and everything about you. I.. I don't deserve you."

You let out a bitter, broken laugh as you felt something warm and salty stinging your eyes, blurring your vision slightly. Sunghoon faltered at the sight of your face and he stepped forward, slow and careful. When it's clear you're letting him move closer, he took another step, one move at a time.

"Who do you think you are?" You croaked out.

The man stilled, looking like a deer caught in headlights. "I—"

"No, shut up and listen. Who do you think you are, thinking that I don't deserve you? What makes you think that way, huh? Did God told you all of those and you decided to went along with it? Willingly? You don't get to make my choices on my behalf," you started, closing the distance to forcefully jab your finger into his chest as you hissed at him.

Sunghoon's expression broke. "(Name)—"

"You don't know what I've been through because of you. I couldn't stopped crying every night after work. I kept asking myself: just when did everything go wrong? Was I the one at fault? What can I do to make up for it? What can I do to make him look at me again, just like the way he used to? No matter how much I think, I couldn't think of anything! You left without telling me and came back, looking like a completely different person."

You paused, letting your words sink in before you continued.

"My friends told me to move on."

This time, it was his turn for his breath to stutter. "..What?"

You weakly nodded your head, tears now freely rolling down your cheeks. Sunghoon's hands twitched, tempted to reach out to wipe them away but he restrained himself. Not yet.

"They said I don't deserve you, that I deserve someone better."

He looked away, jaw tight and clenched. "They're right."

You made a sound of frustration, reaching out to grab his face, turning him so he can see you. "I don't care what anyone has to say! I've already made up my choice!"

"Your choice? Wait, you mean—"

"Yes! For fuck's sake, you're the only person I want! I don't want anyone else but you!" You exclaimed, heaving to catch your breath after you quite and literally, confessed your feelings in a hallway.

Sunghoon stared at you, lips parted, dumbfounded and rendered speechless. "I—You love me? For my personality?"

You rolled your eyes. "Ye—!"

You weren't given a chance to finish your sentence, barely getting the word out when he cut you off by crashing his lips against yours. Sunghoon expertly moved his hands—one hand supporting the back of your neck while the other pulled you in by your waist, until you're directly pressed chest-to-chest.

Your mind blanked out with you stilling in his arms, only for your eyelids to flutter shut as you returned the kiss, sighing into his mouth. He greedily swallowed the sound, shuddering when you wrapped your arms around his shoulders. The kiss was slow and languid, like you're trying to convey your true feelings to one another.

I'm sorry. I really am.

Thank you for choosing me.

Despite everything, it's still you. It will always be you.

I love you. I really do.

You ended up breaking the kiss but you didn't pull away completely, resting your forehead against his with your noses grazing against one another. You opened your eyes, to see he was already looking at you. Unlike before, when his gaze was cold, blank and emotionless, this was full of nothing but pure love and adoration. It's enough for your heart to soar, spreading its invisible wings.

"Really? Did you really mean what you say?" He murmured, eyes darting between your eyes and your parted lips.

You chuckled. "Yeah, I mean it. I love you, Sunghoon."

He groaned, the sound low and dangerous. Hearing it does something to you, making heat pooled in your stomach. You attempted to rub your thighs together but he was faster. Without wasting time, he carried you bridal-style in his arms. You squeaked, throwing your arms around him as he walked with purpose, heading to where the elevators are.

"What are you doing!? Put me down!" You hissed, looking around and thankfully, there wasn't anyone around to see you in such a humiliating state.

He paid you no mind, jamming his finger into the Up button. The lift in front of him opened and he wasted no time in entering. Sunghoon pressed one of the many floors of the hotel. He didn't even wait for the doors to close, already crowding you against the wall to kiss you again. His firm, tall and strong body easily held you upright as he steals your breath away.

"W-Wait-hngh-s-stop-hah," you wetly and openly panted against his mouth. Your hands rested on his chest, fingers straining as you tried to push him away but it's futile, with his strength completely overwhelming yours.

He blindly grabbed both of your hands and pinned them above your head with one hand, holding you in place. None of you cared that you're in an elevator, a semi-public place or how the camera was able to capture every heated moment shared by the two of you. Sunghoon sworn under his breath, his free hand sliding up your thigh, pushing your dress up in the process.

His touch made your skin warm, leaving nothing but a tingling sensation and goosebumps behind in his wake. You gasped into his mouth when he toyed with the hem of your nude stockings, tugging on the thin fabric before letting it go. The fabric snapped against your skin, causing you to jolt on the spot. You sworn you felt him smirked against your lips at your reaction.

Ding!

The elevator came to a stop and the doors opened. Fortunately for you, no one was standing on the other end or they would have gotten the jumpscare of their lives. The two of you tumbled out of the elevator in a mess of limbs, struggling to walk with Sunghoon leading the way. Although, it was easier said than done when he kept kissing you, like he couldn't get enough of how sweet and soft your lips taste.

Eventually, he broke the kiss with a feat of amazing self-restraint, pulling out what looked like a keycard to a room as he stopped before a door. You watched as he pressed the card against the door and a green light lit up. The moment the door was opened, you were yanked into the room, only to be shoved into the door, closing it in the process and he's on you again.

Unlike before, the kiss was more intense, frantic and desperate. His hands were everywhere—greedily touching you in places he wasn't allowed to. Just like before, Sunghoon pushed your black dress up, revealing the stockings you worn underneath it. He boldly cupped you through your underwear, chuckling into your mouth at how you're already wet.

"Look at you, already dripping for me. All from what? Just a kiss? It's all for me, isn't it?"

He hummed, lightly pressing his thumb down on your cunt through the fabric, savoring the choked out whine you let out at the light, fleeting contact. You canted your hips forward, craving more friction but to your utter frustration, he dropped his hand. He pried your lips apart with his skillful tongue, exploring every inch of your warm mouth, ensuring nothing was left untouched.

Your legs buckled, threatening to give way when he gave a harsh suck on your tongue, the sound seemingly loud and lewd in the quiet hotel room. It made your ears turned red. Sunghoon easily lifted you up, maneuvering you to the bed. He placed you down on the pristine white, soft linen sheets with utter care and gentlness that it made your heart stuttered.

You whined, blindly tugging on the blazer of his suit as he hovered over you, careful to not crush you with his weight.

"Off. Take it off," you pleaded.

He chuckled. "Since you asked so nicely."

He withdrew from you, long and slender fingers making quick work of the buttons of his blazer. You pushed yourself up, aiding him in it while ignoring how your hands were borderline trembling. Thankfully, he didn't comment on it. Once the final button was unbuttoned, Sunghoon carelessly chucked it aside. He unknot the tie, ready to throw it to the floor when he paused, an invisible lightbulb going off in his mind.

"Mind if I try something?" He asked, holding the now long, black fabric in his left hand.

You nodded, granting him permission. He scooted closer, grabbed your wrists, telling you to hold them together and you obeyed. Your breath caught when he tied the black fabric around your wrists, binding them together. Once he's done, he observed your face, trying to search for any signs of discomfort.

"Is it too tight?" He questioned, genuinely concerned.

"No, it's perfect."

He nodded. "Let me know if anything hurts, alright? Green's to continue and red's to stop."

"Got it."

The moment those words left your mouth, the switch was instant. His eyes darkened a shade as he pushed you back until you were lying flat on your back. You watched, unable to look away as he unbuttoned the buttons of his white dress shirt at a slow, teasing pace. You squirmed about on the sheets. Now that your wrists were tied together, you couldn't do anything, only able to helplessly watched while you're dripping nonstop.

Sunghoon chuckled, the sound low, mean and degrading at how your reactions. "Aw, what's wrong, princess? Need something?"

You let out a pathetic keen—barely able to recognize your own voice. "P-Please."

"Please what? C'mon, use your words and tell me, baby. I'm not a mind reader," he drawled, finally unbuttoning the last button and shedded the dress shirt, leaving him shirtless.

Your eyes moved, shamelessly oogling him in all of his glory, drinking in his toned chest and the very solid abs he got—results from his hard work at the gym. Sunghoon caught you eye-fucking him. Of course he did. He didn't say anything but the way he smirked was enough. He made quick work of the rest of his pants and boxers, leaving him completely bare while you were still fully clothed, unable to lay your hands on him.

You instinctively looked down, nervously swallowing when you saw his cock. And wow, it's huge. You never knew your childhood friend can be packing down there, hiding and growing a third leg but you can only assumed puberty must have hit him like a truck. The mushroomy tip had already turned a ferocious shade of red due to the lack of attention and neglection. Heck, there was even a bead of precum on the tip that glistened under the dim lights.

You attempted to close your legs but Sunghoon moved. His large hands grabbed both of your thighs, his fingers touching as he held you down, forcing you to spread and present yourself before him. Even though you still have your clothes on, you couldn't helped but feel small under his intense, unwavering gaze.

"P-Please touch me," you whimpered and who was he to deny you?

Sunghoon groaned, wasting no time in removing your clothes from your body, tossing all of them to the floor—ending up in the same fate as his own clothes. Although, the same couldn't be applied to your stockings as he ripped them into shreds instead, too impatient to roll them off your legs. Now that you were completely bare, he had to pause to drink in the sight, almost wishing he can imprint this gorgeous scene into his mind.

Your lipstick was already smudged and nearly wiped off due to the intense make-out session you had. Your hair was spread out like a halo on the pillow, making you looked like an angel. Your lips was swollen and bruised, eyes dazed and slightly glossy as you stared at him, wanting him to do something already.

"Fuck, you're so gorgeous. I can't believe you're mine now," he breathed out, sounding in awe and somehow, that made your breath caught.

He didn't give you time to recover, shifting down until he's on his stomach and dived in. Sunghoon started with a flat stripe up your dripping, aching cunt. The first contact has your mind spinning, nearly making you see the white pearly gates of heaven. You cried out, the sound raw and was ripped from the depth of your throat.

He licked you open with his tongue. Each swipe was slow, deliberate and full of purpose. Your thighs trembled in his grip as you jerked your hips forward, pushing yourself into his mouth. He groaned in appreciation, face buried deep in your leaking pussy. The vibration traveled through your body, drawing a loud and shameless moan from you.

He continued working you open, eventually pushing his tongue inside you. The sudden intrustion of the wet, slimey and slippery muscle made stars explode in your vision. Your back arched off the back, creating an amazing arch that could put even the crescent moon to shame. Your tied wrists were hanging over your head, leaving you helpless and vulnerable to his assault.

"Oh fuck. Hngh, d-don't stop-" You moaned, eyes rolling to the back of your head when he slides two of his long, slender fingers in, moving them in a scissors-like motion, spreading you open and preparing you for what's to come.

"Shit, you taste divine, baby. Could stay here forever and eat this pussy for every meal. Forget food when I can have a five-stars meal here," he growled, his voice vibrating through you.

You've never heard him like this—all pent-up as he gets drunk on your slick, sounds and body. The thought of that was enough to make you rocked your hips against his mouth and Sunghoon lets you do it, letting you ride his tongue. He continued to finger you while fucking you with his tongue.

The double pentration drew a series of angelic, sinful sounds from you. Sounds that you never thought you were capable of making. You can feel your climax coming, with how the pressure kept building as it coiled tighter and tighter in your stomach, like a rubberband being stretched to its limit—

Only for him to pull out, both fingers and tongue.

"Wha—"

"Can't have you cumming on my fingers and mouth. I'd rather have you cum on my cock instead."

Maybe it's the way he said it without hesitation. Maybe it's how firm he is, knowing the effect he has on you. Maybe it's the determined and desired look in his eyes. Whatever it was, it drew an soft, involuntary and needy whine from you. Sunghoon situated himself in between your legs. He aligned himself against your entrance and slowly pushes in.

You felt his mushroomy tip breaching past your folds, sinking deeper and deeper until he eventually bottomed out, buried to the hilt. Your mouth dropped open, forming an "O" shape. You felt impossibly full, like you were being split apart on his cock. Heck, you sworn you could feel him hitting the back of your throat, with how deep he is inside you.

Sunghoon fisted the sheets, twisting them between his fingers while resisting the tempting urge to just pound you six ways into heaven. He doesn't want you to feel uncomfortable and gods, if anything happen to you, he wouldn't know how to continue living after that.

"C-Can't-" You choked out, your pussy being stretched obscenly wide to accomdate to the huge grith of his cock.

He was quick to reassure you. "Shh, it's okay, princess. Just take a deep breath for me, alright? And then breathe out."

You copied him, managing to calm down. Sunghoon took that as his cue to move, pulling out until only the tip was still inside you before sheathing himself back in.

"Fuck!"

You moaned, wrists evidently straining against the temporary bondage as he repeats the movement, setting an even pace. He thrusted into you whole holding himself upright with just his hands. Sunghoon gritted his teeth at how you kept sucking him in, how there was close to no resistance at every thrust.

The hotel room was filled with the lewd, obscene sounds of skin slapping against skin, his balls slapping against your inner thighs along with your pleasured moans that gradually get higher and higher. Until he had to duck his head, muffling it by kissing you while swallowing it down his own throat, treating it like an offering from the Gods themselves.

With your lips still interlocked, Sunghoon slung your legs around his waist as he bends you forward, putting you in a mating press. The new position allowed him to hit deeper. You sworn you can feel his tip constantly kissing the entrance to your womb. You couldn't keep up with the kiss, simply moaning and babbling incoherent words that sounded a lot like "more", "please" and "Sunghoon".

Whatever it was, it seemed to do the trick on him. Your bodies were covered in a layer of sweat with salty droplets rolling down his back. Some even landed on the sheets as they trickled down his face. He glanced down, his thrusts faltering mid-motion when he saw a bump on your stomach. A bump made by him, due to how big he is.

He moved his left hand and pressed down on it.

His action elicited a high-pitched keen from you which to him, it was the most delicious sound he has ever heard from you. Sunghoon's mind spins, starting to spiral as he began to wonder: how will you look when you carry his children in the future? How will you treat them?

The thoughts kept flooding his mind and with the newfound vigor, he ruthlessly pounded into you like a madman. You whimpered at the sudden change of speed, body going limp against the sheets as you struggled.

"Gonna make you carry my kids. Pump this pretty little pussy full of my cum," he snarled, seemingly lost in his own world and thoughts.

You moaned, instinctively clenching down on him at his words. Sunghoon cursed, hand snaking down to rub at your clit, timing it with his thrust.

"Yeah? You'd like that, don't you? Walking around in the office with everyone not knowing you're carrying my children," he cooed, voice lowering an octave.

You frantically nodded your head, too far gone and intoxicated on the feeling of his cock constantly hitting that one spongy spot hidden between your gummy walls.

"Mhm! Please, m-more-hah."

Sunghoon continued fucking into you at a faster pace, if that was even possible. The bed creaked at every movement with the bedframe slamming against the wall. He knows he'll be getting a complaint from the hotel staff tomorrow but that's for future him to handle. Now, he has a more important issue to settle. The issue that comes in the form of impregnating you.

It took a few more long and timed thrusts for you to feel your climax reaching.

"G-Gonna cum-pleasepleaseplease," you babbled, too cockdrunk to think straight.

Sunghoon took pity on you. "Yeah? You wanna cum, pretty girl? Then cum for me."

He delivered one final thrust, burying himself to the hilt and you cum while chanting his name like a sacred prayer. Your walls violently convulsed around him, milking him dry as body-length shudders traveled through your body. Sunghoon was quick to follow suit. He spilled thick and hot cum inside you, painting your gummy walls in the shade of his cum.

You grimanced at the uncomfortable feeling of being pumped full, able to feel how bloated your stomach felt afterwards. Sunghoon didn't pull out. Instead, he collapsed onto you with an "oof" and you made a disgusted sound, reaching out to weakly smacked the back of his head.

"Ow!"

"Get off of me. You're gonna crush me to death," you retorted.

Sunghoon rolled his eyes but obliged. He pulled out first, drawing a hiss from you and he laid beside you. None of you said a word, laying on the same bed, bodies covered in sweat and body fluids as you stared at the ceiling, trying to catch your breath. You ended up breaking the silence, wanting to address the invisible elephant in the room.

"…So, what does this make us now?" You asked, not daring to look at him.

"What do you want us to be?" He countered.

"You're not supposed to answer my question with your own," you retorted.

He chuckled, reaching out to place his hand above yours. When you didn't push him away, he took that as a green light to intertwine your fingers together.

"I'd like us to be partners. Romantically."

You snorted. "No one says that, Hoon. It's actually boyfriend and girlfriend."

He furrowed his signature, thick eyebrows. "What's the difference? They still mean the same."

You let out a long, heavy sigh. "Never mind, forget it. But sure, let's be partners. Romantically."

Sunghoon narrowed his eyes at you. "..You're mocking me, aren't you?"

You gave him an innocent look but the glimmer of mischief in your eyes said otherwise. "Me? I would never!"

He didn't budge an inch before pounching on you, fingers ruthlessly tickling your sides without a care in the world. You squealed, trying to push him away and shielding yourself but your efforts was futile. You can only make yourself small while he continued, your laughter and pleas of mercy bounces among the four walls of the room.

"S-Stop-pft-m-mercy-HAHAHA!" You exclaimed, gasping and heaving for breath with tears prickling your eyes.

Sunghoon stopped his tickling attack, only for him to lean forward with his hands now on both sides of your head, caging you against the bed. You stilled, locking eyes with him. He swallowed, eyes flicking down to your lips.

"There's something I need to tell you," he started.

"Well, that doesn't sound good," you teased—a poor attempt to lighten the atompshere."

He didn't react to your words.

"It's about the marriage the articles posted. I want you to know it's not real," he continued. Your heart dropped when you heard that. But despite it all, a part of you felt relieved.

"Oh."

He nodded, eyes searching for something in you. "Yeah, the marriage was set up by both of our families. They believed it's beneficial to both parties if the marriage goes through, in terms of business wise. My father also wants to use it to tie me down, so I won't do it again."

You frowned. "Do what?"

Sunghoon sighed, lowering his head before lifting them up again. "…The reason why I left without telling you was because I didn't know how to. The Parks—my family, is a line of business people. But I'm not like them. I wasn't interested in business. I was interested in law and that's something my parents refused to accept or acknowledge. No matter how hard they kept teaching me, I refused to accept it. It was torture, trying to learn something you didn't want to learn."

Your heart shattered at how small his voice became. You wordlessly reached out, cupped his face with your hands and he leaned into your touch, eyes fluttering shut.

"So I decided to risk it all, book a plane ticket to Australia and enrol myself in one of the law schools there. I didn't know how to tell you. It was out of a sudden. My brother found out about it and he supports me. My father, on the other hand, harshly rejected the idea. We fought before I left and he told me he'd let me go but in the future, whatever major decisions regarding my life is in his hands now."

Your eyes widened. "..And one of it was the marriage. It's to bind you to the Parks."

He glumly nodded.

"Oh, Hoon…" You sighed, craning your neck up to brush your lips against his in an almost-like kiss. He shivered at how heavenly the nickname sounds from you. The very same nickname he kept close to his heart since young.

"Your father's an asshole. It's your life, whether he likes it or not. He doesn't have a say in what you want to do," you continued.

"I know, which is why I'd be telling him to cancel the marriage tomorrow," he replied, determined.

You paused. "Uh, are you sure that's even possible? What about that fiance of yours? Will she be mad and upset?"

"Huh? No, why would she? She's just like me. Both of us didn't want the marriage in the first place," he pointed out.

"…Oh, okay," you mumbled, face turning as red as a tomato as you looked away.

It took him a few seconds to realize why and when he did connect the dots, he smirked teasingly. "Don't tell me you were jealous."

"I'm not!" You defended yourself, replying without hesitation.

"Mhm, sure. And I'm the president of Seoul," he answered with sarcasm seeping into his voice.

You shot him an annoyed glare, ready to shove him off the bed when he stopped you, grabbing both of your hands, causing you to stop.

"I love you," he confessed.

The words were raw and it's a deadly combination with the utmost sincerity in his voice. So deadly that it made you teared up. Seeing this, Sunghoon's features softened. He ducked his head so he can pressed his forehead against yours.

"Jeez, I guess you're still a crybaby huh," he teased.

"Yeah, but I'm your crybaby now," you fired back, voice cracking at the end.

Sunghoon blinked once. Twice before a wide smile stretched across his face from ear to ear.

His lips trail down your neck in wet, open mouthed kisses, humming very hot ‘mhmm’ from the back of his throat that sends tingles straight to your core. The way his hands roam your body, made your core buzz, shameless whimpers escaping your lips as he grabbed, touched, and felt you however he could.

Heeseung looks back up to you to press his lips against yours in a wet kiss, “Bed, baby. Lemme have you, yeah?”

And who were you to deny him?

He had you arching your back on his bed, his fingers curling against your core as he left kisses and bites on your thighs. Heeseung was relentless, not able to keep his hands and lips away from you.

And when he entered you? You were both sure that he was just in another world.

His skin glistened against the moonlight spilling in from the windows. Heeseung looked beautiful in all his glory, so whiny, so lost in pleasure. The moment he felt your pussy grip his cock so hard, he had to lean back a little to breathe, moaning loudly by the sensations he felt run up his spine. You were so warm, so wet, so tight.

“All for me, darling?” He panted, starting to move slowly, the friction making your eyes shut as you bowed a little off the bed when he hit with a particularly hard thrust, “Eyes on me,” Heeseung grits his teeth.

That must have been your fault; listening to this specific demand of his. Because you almost came when your eyes met his.

Heeseung looked breathtaking, his pupils dilated as he thrusted into you, feeling you in ways that made your breath hitch no matter how many times you guys did it.

His eyebrows scrunched up, mouth opening with an ‘ah’ that, God, sounded so hot, so freaking hot that made you want to listen to him moan and whimper on record. Heeseung was always so expressive, his eyes hid nothing. The pleasure he felt was evident on his face. His hands rested on each side of your head, leaning down a little to kiss you, both of you moaning into the kiss. Your chests pressed against each other, him loving the feel of your breasts against his toned chest.

Heeseung pulls you impossibly close, making you wrap your legs around his waist as he drove his cock inside you, constantly hitting that spot that made you see stars.

He pulls away, “Oh fuck, you feel so good. What I would give to live between your legs forever.”

Yeah, he definitely wasn’t stopping anytime soon.

And when you flip him onto his back, he is a whimpering mess, reaching up at you to make out with you, thrusting up at you as if there’s no tomorrow. His hands hold your hips in a bruising grip, but both of you were already gone to care, too lost in love and pleasure.

࣪ ˖☆ ࣪⭑┆ ݁˖ .☆ . ݁ ˖ ☆⊹ ࣪ ┆ ˖ ࣪　⊹ ࣪ ★ ⋆.˚ ⊹ ࣪࣪ ˖⋆˚★ ₊ ⊹　 ࣪˖ ࣪ ₊ ࣪

A/N: Just a random one because I miss Heeseung. Lots of love to him always. Gotta write more of him! ❤️

Also, I’m writing after so long and this a very random one 🥹

Your lips traced his soft skin, sucking and nibbling on spots to ease the pain but in fact it was only making Aaron breathless. A sharp gasp escaped his lips when your teeth slightly grazed the soft spot on his neck, his hold on your hips tightening. Aaron couldn't handle the heat and need to taste you so bad. His fingers tugged on your hair to pull you away from his neck. The action made a moan escape your lips which made Aaron stare at you with hooded eyes; palest shade of emerald irises filled with utmost love and an emotion you were too shy to consider, desire pooling. His lips found yours, hands travelling up and down your body, feeling you up in an intoxicating way.

The way he kisses you, marking your heart and soul made you both feel like there was no neccesity for air. As if you could relinquish oxygen for this. This felt like the best way to go. It was a constant reminder that even after all the wonders and surprises the world could offer, moments like these were always different, always so memorable. Each touch, each sound, each action tattooing in your hearts and souls.

Both of your hearts raced in a steady rhythm. Your heartbeat elevated, the rapid sound of it droning in your ears. He gently placed your hand to let it rest atop his chest, just above his heart. And your eyes stinged with emotion. His was thundering against his chest so loud he was sure you could hear it.

Aaron felt your needy hands travel through the expanse of his torso, tracing his broad chest to his abdomen, heated skin on fire wherever your fingers traced as you reached down to pull him even closer by his belt. He felt shivers down his spine, each touch of yours sending him on a tingling edge, a high he never wanted to come down from. Your hands tugged desperately at his shirt, unbuttoning each button quickly and before you know it, he has already taken it off, pulling away to breath for air. The heat and tension between the two of you clouded your senses, lips chasing his in an attempt to close the distance.

Aaron flashes you a breathtaking smile, dimples and a flush of pink painting his cheeks and he looked so beautiful, so adorable, so enchanting that it made you stop for a moment and marvel at the man in front of you. Aaron was stunning, a dream, someone so amazing inside out. How is he so beautiful?

You probably said those words out loud because he chuckled lightly, the sound tugging at your heartstrings, "You give me too much credit, sweetheart. But thank you so much. It means so much to me hearing that from you."

"Well I'm just stating the truth."

"Mhm, is that so?"

He bites his lower lip to stop a giggle but nevertheless his lips still tugged up with a smile before his hands wraps around your waist and the back of your neck, lips locking with yours hungrily. Aaron pulls your clothed self to his warm body, closer beyond possibilty. You nibbled on his lower lip before opening up for him. You could feel the hard ridges, dips of his muscles, chest heaving with each intake of air, compelling you to touch the smooth skin of his flawless chest. He gently pushes you back, backing away until your knees hit the edge of the bed and you fall backwards, pulling him with you.

The moment causes you both to break the kiss, pulling a smile from the both of you. Aaron leans down to kiss you deeply again, an audible 'mm' escapes his lips at the blissful meeting of your lips with his, the sound making heat pool at your abdomen.

His eyes would occasionally open up a little to look at your reactions, to see if there's any sign discomfort from you. When he found none, he intertwined your hands together, squeezing your hand in reassurance.

Your hands finds solace on his broad shoulders this time, fingers travelling down his bare chest, so warm and firm, his skin soft as your fingers traced valleys and rivers at every dip and curve of his defined muscles. He visibly relaxed under your touch, his free hand reaching down to cup your cheek. Aaron moaned quietly when your fingers caressed his abs, shuffling to cup him from the pants, outline evident through his desire and need for you. His lips part against yours in a soft moan when your fingers teased his clothed length which caused him to involuntarily grind against your hand, making him break the kiss for a moment, a string of saliva connecting your lips.

Your hands unbuckled his belt, unbuttoning the pants. Slipping your hand inside, you started stroking his length in a painstakingly slow motion. He hummed, biting his lips when your thumb pressed on his tip, his eyes blinding with pleasure. Aaron was sure that he was losing his mind, pleasure blurring the edges between reality and an euphoric dream. He stopped your movements when he started feeling too good, white hot pleasure shooting up his veins. He was so close but he wanted to finish with you, inside of you.

He could feel your heat, your need to have him close against you and he has been right there with you; hands fumbling with your jeans desperately. Your actions and need for him left him intoxicated, head fuzzing out all thoughts out of his mind but you, you, you. It felt addicting, unreal, impossible to him that you want him as much as he wants you. So close, so much that it felt unfathomable to thread it through vocabulary.

His lips kissed your jaw, down to your collarbone as he marked you, smiling against your skin at the moans and whimpers of his name you let out.

When he felt your fingers reach his pants to unbuckle his belt all the way to pull him out, he broke away and held both your wrists in one hand. A smooth, unbelievably attractive smirk etched on his lips, "Not so quickly, sweetheart. I have to remove these restraints from yours first. It's not fair that you're fully clothed. "

And soon you found yourself and him naked to each others eyes.

Aaron knelt between your legs in all his glory, chest heaving up and down, a trickle of sweat trailing down his cheek as he held his cock, stroking and squeezing it tight all the while staring at you, intensive gaze filled with so much passion that it felt like he could light your insides on fire. He let go of torturing himself further and hovered above you, one hand caressing the skin of your hips and the other resting beside your head.

He is breathtaking in every way possible. You really need him inside you. But the way he was looking at you, so passionately, gaze filled with unbridled emotions, like he could see right through you. You felt bare underneath him in more ways than one. You almost felt a little self conscious for a moment before his fingers found your weeping entrance, teasing you and never breaking eye contact. And in the stillness of the hour, in the private whispers of the late night breeze Aaron swore, "You are a freaking goddess, baby.”

You moaned, it was impossible to hold yourself; first, his teasing fingers and then the way he was looking at you made you close your eyes just so that you could hold onto your sanity before you let go, before you let your wants devour this man on top of you. His eyes too intense, irises pooling with deepening emotions. Also, he rarely swore but he let go in the moment, too careless to worry about what he was even saying anymore, which was a plus.

His lips kissed down your body, your skin on fire wherever his lips traced invisible lines on your frame. Aaron kissed you in the most sensitive areas, a gasp leaving your lips as your fingers immediately buried in his hair, holding him as if to ground yourself to this moment. He nipped, sucked, ate you out in such a way that you were struggling to breath, one hand clutching the comforter so tight that you were sure it would tear off. The gasping, the heavy breathing, you losing yourself in pleasure made Aaron lose himself in the beauty of your chase. It was an auto pilot response, the way his hips started grinding against the comforter for some friction but you caught on.

"Aaron, I— ah, wait— I see you! Don't you dare! I want to touch you and come with you— " You were cut off when he gently bit the skin under your thigh.

He stopped his movements and stared up at you, his chin glistening in the dim lighting of your room, eyes taunting and teasing in a way that made you clench around nothing, "Oh yeah?"

This side of Aaron Warner has always felt new to you, exclusively and only for you. That teasing gaze filled with mischief and ideas you could only wonder. If he could, he would tease you forever, edging himself and you to the point where later he ends up driving his hips into you to a state of oblivion.

Hard and merciless and heavenly and gentle is Aaron Warner.

"Aaron, please — "

"Please what, baby?" You could hear the smile in his voice. He let go of your thighs to climb up your frame. His thumb tugged at your lower lip,  "Look at me, sweetheart. Talk to me."

Aaron could be such a tease that sometimes it made you want to yank his hair out but you knew better. He loves his hair too much so you wouldn't do that ever.

You huffed, eyes still clenched shut, “Need you inside me.”

“Look at me first.” Aaron's voice dropped, husky and seductive, commanding to some degree which pulled you into a trance like the angelic devil he is. So alluring, so seductive.

You opened your eyes to see him scanning your features, tracing from your eyebrows to your eyes, resting a little longer at your lips. But he willed himself to look back up at you.

“I want to touch you, Aaron. Can I?” You asked what you initially wanted before the said confession, chest heaving up and down rapidly as your hands traced his bicep.

Aaron simply smiled, that dimple one, “You don’t even have to ask, love. I’m all yours.” He kisses your nose gently. But when you sat up to touch him, he held your shoulders, “But not today, okay? I really need to be inside you.” His voice was feather soft, caressing your cheek in assurance. He felt a little worried about your reaction but when you saw the look in his eyes, you nodded eagerly and settled down back on the sheets.

“Now tell me what you want me to do.”

You almost choked on air, sputtering, “Wha– you already know! Why do I have to say it…” Heat rushed to your cheeks because of his proposition. You hide your face behind your hands, lightly slapping his arm in protest.

Aaron knows everything so well and knows exactly what you want. It’s just that he has a habit of flustering you to no end, have you all shy in his arms before he indulged in you, devoured you. He finds so much pleasure in seeing you all shy and then moaning out his name to the world the very next moment.

He laughs, “Don’t hide yourself from me now. Or do you want me to tie your hands?”

You pulled your hands away from your face just to squint at him, shooting him a look of faux disinterest as if your heart isn’t just thundering against your ribcage, “You wouldn’t.”

“I never lie, sweetheart.”

That shut you up. You knew that riling Aaron up to no end would just end the night in a completely different state, till dawn even. Not that you minded, because it’s always a win-win situation.

Aaron placed an exaggerated kiss on your tummy, “Now tell me. I need instructions, baby. My patience is running thin.” You felt his thumb unconsciously graze the inside of your thighs.

"Aaron, please... Make love to me. I need to feel you," Your hands travelled up to thread through his hair, fingers caressing and tugging on his blonde locks, "Touch me, Aaron. Want you so bad." You internally whined because of how cringe you thought you sounded, but it’s a totally different story for your lover.

And then he was gone. It was a frenzy of emotions and actions as he sinked into you. Both of you moaned loudly at the feeling; so freakishly insane and beautiful that it knocked the air out of your lungs. It made you mad with emotions, this connection. It’s a reminder that Aaron was really yours and you were his, a reminder that despite whatever the world throws at you, the two of you still believe and love each other.

"I love you, Aaron." Those words escaped your lips inadvertently, his thrusts stuttering for a moment before he picked up his pace.

Both of you lost yourselves in the feeling of each other, each meeting increasing his pace as you met his thrusts. This was always something which felt beyond the description of 'beautiful', a state of infinite euphoria. An addicting ecstasy so delicious that it made you breathless, stars exploding behind your eyelids.

He felt so good, so freaking good. The blunt head of his cock touching parts inside of you that you thought was impossible. A particularly harsh thrust made your eyes roll back to your head. His movements are so fluid, so precise, so deep. He was driving you insane, that being his aim. You are addicted to the feeling, making you arch your back off the mattress.

Your warmth, wetness and tightness embraced him in a deliciously vice like grip, your scent reaching his senses and he was already drunk off of you. The squelching noise between your bodies grew, making your ears heat up but you also couldn't care less. This is your and Aaron's private moment after all.

Aaron groaned, his grunts growing louder with time, movements growing deeper, harder, “Oh, love. My beautiful, beautiful love,” He is practically a babbling mess, breathing heavily when you clenched around his length, your heat pulsing rapidly, “I love you so much, you have no idea.” That tugged at your heartstrings and you wanted to reply but you couldn't; his thrusts rendered you speechless and breathless.

It's pure instinct when he moves to embrace your entire figure within his arms, thrusting into you at a different angle which definitely felt even more deeper, hitting your spot so perfectly. Your gasps and moans fueled his urgent desire to feel you closer and make you come. His biceps flex as he pins you down, pounding mercilessly into you. You moaned his name like a prayer, chanting his name like he’s the only one filling each of your senses. Aaron. Aaron. Aaron.

He stared down at you; head thrown back, eyes clenched shut, moaning out his name in wanton as you moved together with his harsh and fast thrusts. You looked so beautiful in his eyes, his to love and his to hold. You feel like a dream to him, someone so gentle and kind, someone who took care of him in a way he never expected.

His hands grasped the comforter beside your head tightly at the increasing fervour of the movements. The room fills up with the sound of rapid skin-slapping, moans reverberating off the walls. He gasped for air, uninhibited moans escaping his pretty pink swollen lips. Your name leaving his lips in a state of absolute bliss, just you filling each and every fibre of his being. Aaron's eyebrows scrunched together, eyes closed in concentration to not let go soon. Sweat trickled down his temples and clavicle, landing on your chest. His cheeks were flushed pink, lips opening to let out a quiet moan, a whimper even.

Dear God, how is he so pretty?

You tightened so hard making Aaron throw his head back at the bliss, so wet and so warm, so tight; all for him.

That thought ignited something in him, hands fumbling down to hold your hips in place as his fingers trailed down your bottom to the back of your thighs, lifting one leg to wrap around his waist to adjust the angle and pace. He started thrusting harder and faster. Now, he was moving in a completely different pace.

"Aaron— ah— slow down— "

“I can't, love. You feel too good— ” He sucks in a breath when your hands trails up to embrace him, as if holding onto him for dear life.

Your fingers travel down his clavicle and rest just above his chest. Aaron looks down at you with hooded eyes, barely able to keep them open due to the ecstasy filling his senses. His eyes searched yours, for any sign for discomfort. When he found none, he relaxed a little. But then you had to run your mouth,

"God, you sound so good and feel so, so good. I could never— ah, shit— get tired of your voice. Your moans — "

Aaron cut you off with a groan, his hips slamming against yours in an unforgiving pace. He was slowly losing it, having already lost himself in you, he decides this wasn't enough. He needs to have you even closer.

"I need you to flip over for me, love," Aaron huffed, urgency lacing his voice as he pulled out of you. He helped you get into position, taking in a moment to marvel at your beautiful back, stretch marks painting parts of your skin. You are perfect in his eyes.

"You are so beautiful, love." He confessed, caressing your ass before lining himself to your entrance, "Right back in..." He gasped at your tightness again, warmth embracing him, heat travelling up his spine.

You moaned loudly, muffling the sounds against your pillow which smelled so much like Aaron; gardenias with a hint of peppermint. You were right near the edge and knew Aaron is right there with you, his hold on your hips tightening.

“I’m close— ” You breathlessly gasped, the coil tightening in your abdomen.

You were close, so close but Aaron pulled out. A cry of protest settled on your tongue before he flipped you on your back and pushed right back in, your wetness being more than enough lubricant to push himself into your plush warm walls. You screamed, hands wrapping around his neck to pull him closer to you.

“Right there with you, love,” Aaron has a habit, a natural response, an unspoken urge to always see your face when you come undone on him, for him, so lost in the pleasure that your climax always pushed his, “Come. Come on my cock, baby.”

The moment he said those words, the tightening coil inside you snapped. You moaned loudly, the climax hitting you in waves that you had to turn to your side and bury your face in the pillows to calm your voice. But Aaron wasn’t having it. He merely grabbed the pillow and threw it on the floor.

Your tightness triggered Aaron’s climax, hips stuttering against with no rhythm. You stared up at his beautiful face, trying to blink away the blur, “Want to come inside me, handsome?” You teased him which awarded you with a sharp thrust into your already sensitive walls. He playfully glared at you.

“If you continue talking to me like this, I’ll keep you up all the night. Till we see the dawn.” Aaron groaned, to which you feigned nonchalance. But it only ignited your excitement.

He leaned down to kiss you, wanting to muffle his grunts and moans as he felt himself coming. But this time, you are not having it. Wanting to hear his moans, you pulled him away as your fingers tugged on the roots of his hair. Aaron whined, you pulling on his hair immediately making him come.

Even though breathless, he still had to say,

"Oh love, I could stay inside you for the rest of my life. Hide you away from the world if that means I get to take you any time, every time."

• • • • • • • • • • •

(a/n 2: tbh reading his thoughts from his pov and his extreme desires and needs really makes me feel like he does dirty talk but in such a rich way, seducing you to no end)

The weight of the switchblade holstered against your upper thigh is foreign. Invasive, like it was discarded, misplaced and somehow ended up snuggled against the warmth of your skin. It’s been secured for the better part of an hour, but the temperature has yet to equal out. The metal still feels cold against your flesh. Bitingly so. 

A shiver runs the length of your spine. Although temperature isn’t entirely to blame. 

Perhaps it’s the change of scenery that has old habits feeling brand new. Although you’re no stranger to the cool metal kiss of a hidden weapon, it has always been in the controlled context of a fabricated scenario. 

You’ve had knives strapped to your thigh before. So many that they’ve started to feel comfortable. Like an extension of yourself. An old friend snug against your skin. 

But those knives never ventured far. Like you, they belonged in an old abandoned gym, just off of the highway that has served as your training grounds for as long as you can remember. There, it all feels natural. The bow and quiver of silver-tipped arrows between your shoulder blades. The spare bullets stashed away on the inside of your left boot. The lightweight cloth that shrouds your neck and conceals the bottom half of your face. 

That helps to disguise the smell, the uncanny allure of a beating pulse. 

Now, it just feels suffocating. The urge to rip it away and finally draw in a long, full breath has your fingertips twitching at your sides. 

But you keep it firmly in place. Hope that it will also drown out the way your heart is currently racing just under your heated skin. The way it jumps against your throat with every rustle of branches, every crack of a twig. 

Above you, the moon glows. It casts long, eerie shadows through the looming trees you hide behind. It’s your only source of light, and it pales in comparison with the  harsh artificial fluorescents that fill the training gym on long nights. 

It’s the moon, you think, that makes all of this suddenly feel real. Too real. 

You hate it, the way your pulse sticks in your throat with each footstep forward, the way your body feels alight with nerves, every one of your senses heightened to a point that’s almost painful. 

It’s a fight or flight response, and no matter how many years of training you have under your belt, every instinct in you is screaming to run. To hide. To escape. 

The heat of summer still lingers, even in this space that feels forgotten by sunlight. Still, you’re grateful for the sleeves that hide your arms. Mostly because they’re decorated with goosebumps. And in this heat, that would be sure to raise questions. And the mere thought of admitting your fear out loud has you gritting your teeth in displeasure. 

On your left, you hear the slight rustle of movement, the faintest hint of footsteps. Distantly, you imagine you must sound like a herd of elephants in comparison. It’s hard to be sure, with the way the blood pumping in your ears drowns out nearly everything else, but Jay has always been better than you at this. 

Silently, he maneuvers into the space next to you. You pretend not to notice the nervous glance he casts in your direction. Even behind the partial mask he wears, his concern is apparent. Blinking once, you keep your eyes straight ahead. 

“You alright?” It’s barely a whisper, but it still breaks protocol. 

No verbal communication except in the case of absolute emergency. 

To compensate, nearly every possible scenario you could encounter has been converted into a hand signal. And the years of training you’ve all spent together has helped to solidify your ability to move as a singular entity. 

A raise of his eyebrow probably would have expressed the same question. And you would have given the same tight, unconvincing nod in response. 

You’re surprised he risked it, considering that you’re teetering dangerously close to the clearing. Less than half a mile now. Until you breach the edge of the area of the woods that’s inspired a plethora of legends, that’s been the source of tall tales since before you were born. That’s been warned as forbidden to the town’s children for as long as it’s been known. 

That your team has on good authority to be the site of the latest vampire sightings in the area. 

Despite your training and the task at hand, you’ve never seen a vampire before. Well, alive that is. You’ve been helping with the disposal process since you were old enough to walk, but never deemed prepared enough, good enough, for this part of the process. 

The hunt. 

That’s why you’re so on edge, you’re sure. Just first time nerves. 

Once again, you resist the urge to adjust the blade on your thigh. 

For that, you’d have to stop the slow, steady movement of your legs as you continue on your silent path towards the heart of danger. If you do, you’re half afraid you won’t be able to get them to move again. 

So you press forward, Jay at your side and Heli, Noa, and Solon closing in from the clearing’s other access points. 

A handful of stilted heartbeats later, you almost miss the closed fist Jay holds in the air. In your periphery, you notice the signal just in time to stop in your tracks. Frozen, silent, waiting. Despite the danger you know comes with letting instinct guide you, your movement feels mechanical as you take a deep breath in through your nose. 

A quick scan of your surroundings reveals nothing amiss, which can only mean one thing. You’re here. 

From the outside, the clearing is impossible to detect. All you see is the same wall of trees and brush you’ve been navigating since you entered the edge of the forest miles ago. 

But the silence is uncanny. Gone are the chitters of small forest animals, the near undetectable glide of owl wings in the night. Even animals know that this is a place to avoid. 

Ensconced in silence, you let your gaze drift towards the moon above. It feels larger here, brighter. Closer, somehow. 

There is little time to ponder it before Jay is ushering you forward again, guiding you on an invisible path that he knows like the back of his hand. Unlike you, hunting is nothing new to him. It’s why he’s been entrusted with this. With you. 

A handful of paces in front of you, his hand forms another wordless signal. You don’t need it this time, but you heed it all the same as the trees around you give way to a vast expanse of… nothing. 

Crouching next to Jay, the clearing in front of you matches every description you’ve ever heard. Even still, it manages to catch you off guard. 

The border of trees that encloses the space forms a near perfect circle. Despite the way you remain hidden at the edge, you feel unsettled here. Exposed. 

Glancing at you, Jay jerks his chin towards the bow on your back, his own already secured between expert fingers as he notches an arrow.

His preparation is a precaution, you know. Tonight is your first hunt. And as tradition has it, will be your first kill. The weapon Jay readies is a backup, a last case scenario should yours fail to land true. 

Against the opposite edge of the cleaning, you imagine Heli, Solon, and Noa doing the same. They’re better at this too. The way every scan of the trees fails to reveal them is a testament to their skill. 

Next to you, Jay places a tentative hand on your thigh. You do your best not to jump, but the fact that he saw the action necessary in the first place is evidence enough of the nerves you have yet to shake. 

His touch, just like the small warmth in his eyes, is meant to provide a sense of comfort, to serve as reassurance. 

All it does is make you think of the knife on your thigh again. The stark difference between the cool metal on your skin and the warmth of his long fingers as they rub small circles. 

Leaving his hand in place, Jay glances up towards the moon. Not to assess it as you had earlier, but to gauge the hour. He casts his gaze towards you. This time, the warmth is gone. Replaced with steel. 

It’s nearly time. 

Despite the anxiety clawing at your throat, you find some solace in the looming promise of relief. Soon, you think. Soon this will be over. The unbearable sense of intimidation that comes with the first time will be behind you, and you’ll be a part of the team. 

A real part of the team, in camaraderie and trust and ability instead of just in name. 

Because no matter how fast your heart flutters in your chest, something about this moment feels right. Like everything is finally clicking into place. 

Born into a family that has hunted undead monsters since the dawn of time, your battle to prove yourself has been an uphill one. Every moment has brought you here, now. Every night spent in the training gym, every bead of sweat, every drop of blood, every reminder that you weren’t fast enough, strong enough, good enough yet. But it all ends here. Tonight. 

Soon. 

Almost absentmindedly, you remove one hand from your bow to thumb over the cool kiss of metal that sits against your throat. The tiny locket with nothing but a single petal inside. 

You wonder if your mother would be proud, if she could see you now. If she’d sit with you and tell you that it was the same for her. That she was nervous too. That her first kill is still something she remembers fondly. 

But the moment passes as soon as it comes.

In the span of a heartbeat, Jay stiffens next to you, stilling impossibly further. Removing your hand from your necklace and placing it back on your weapon, you do your best to follow suit. 

Later, there will be time for sentimentality. But here, obscured in the cover of darkness, an immortal horror story is coming to life. 

Even with the way your skin pricks under the weight of heightened sensation, there is no space for anything but the aftermath of the hours, months, years of training that have led to this moment. 

You’re not sure how Jay does it, how he knows that the clearing is about to lose its vacancy, but you suppose you’ll build the same precise instinct with time. 

Only seconds after his demeanor shifts, a figure emerges from the edge of the wood. You thought you would be prepared for it, the sight of your first living monster. But nothing could have readied you for the way the creature moves with such supernatural grace, such delicate fluidity. 

You watch, breath stuck in your throat, as it hesitates for a minute, as if assessing, waiting. And then, sensing no apparent danger, the monster continues its unearthly dance towards the center of the clearing. Its footsteps are light, so precise it’s almost beautiful. From where you sit, it appears to be floating on air. Tumbling through space with no regard for the laws of humanity that bind you to this earth. Next to you, Jay holds his breath. 

Fingers shaking, you notch your arrow. Despite its movement, the monster is easy to zero in on. It almost reminds you of a butterfly, the way it flitters through the grass like the wind is in its wings. Up and down, spinning for no apparent reason. As if movement itself is motivation enough. 

But it doesn’t matter. The motivations of monsters are of little consequence to you. 

Exhaling, you draw your bowstring back. It digs into your fingertips, nearly kissing the side of your nose. You force your breath to even out, your gaze to focus. 

One chance. It’s all you’ll get before Jay and the others will step in to remedy your failure. But that isn’t an option, not for you. 

You draw the string a fraction of an inch further, weapon tight between your fingers. You’ll just have to be sure that the arrow hits home then. 

Still tracking its movement with the tip of your arrow, you focus on the rhythm of your heartbeat. Far too fast, but steady all the same. Just like the creature you’re locked in on. 

You draw another shaky breath in. 

Your heartbeat falters. 

The monster does the same. 

In your surprise, you almost release the arrow prematurely.

Because that can’t have been right. It must be a trick of the moonlight. A lapse in your vision. 

It tripped. 

The creature, born and bred with a supernatural grace so potent it makes running look like floating, tripped. 

It steadies itself, of course, but the once perfect moment shatters. Panic claws at your throat. It’s wrong. It’s all wrong. 

With the trees as your only reference, you hadn’t noticed it before. But now, with your breath hitching and an unpleasant sensation radiating from the base of your spine, it’s all too apparent. 

The creature, the monster, the vampire. It can’t be more than five feet tall. 

And it moves with an unnatural grace, yes, but its movement is still rough around the edges. Like it’s learning, like it hasn’t quite mastered it, like it’s—

“A child,” you whisper, a horrified breath escaping your lips as you break protocol. 

Jay turns towards you, eyes wide in alarm as the threat of imminent danger begins to set in. He readies his hands to form an emergency signal, but it’s too late. 

Halfway across the clearing, the vampire’s gaze wanders only for a millisecond before it locates the source of the sound. Locks in on you. 

And despite the distance and the fact that you’re much too far to make out the details, you already recognize the expression that mirrors your own. 

Fear. 

At your side, Jay releases a jagged breath before notching his own arrow again. Barely do you have time to think of a protest before he’s releasing it with the steady grace of a practiced hunter. It whistles through the air with alarming precision, but once again his attempt at salvaging the situation comes just on the wrong side of too late. 

The vampire dodges it easily, just as it does the other three arrows that come flying from opposite directions, from the bows of your other team members.

“God fucking damnit.” If your bones weren’t still fighting paralysis, you’d worry about the repercussions of Jay’s anger, of your complete and utter failure. But the situation at hand allows no time to think, no time to breathe as moments tick away like a steady countdown towards death. 

“We have to run, ___,” he instructs roughly in your ear, whispers long forgotten, protocol dying at your feet. But your legs feel frozen in place, heart beating in your throat. Jay grips your arm, fingertips digging into flesh as desperation sharpens his tone. “Now.” 

Head spinning, sense is hard to come by as you try to coax your feet into cooperating, into doing as he says. Mechanically, you force one foot in front of the other, a successful retreat feeling like an impossible task as you remember how delicately you carved the path here. 

There is a sliver of hope, though. Despite your shortcomings, running was always one of your stronger suits, easily beating out even the best hunters when it came to races against the clock. But now, in the aftermath of inaction, your feet are lagging, vision clouded by tears you never gave permission to fall. 

“C’mon, ___,” Jay urges, scant feet in front of you even though you know he could be long gone by now. You’re quicker, but panic makes his senses sharper where yours have been eroded to a dull edge. The terror in his voice is apparent. “Faster. We have to move .”

You think you just might be fighting a winning battle as your feet begin to pick up speed, forcing away the haze in your mind as you zero in on the path ahead. But victory is short lived. 

“Faster, indeed.” The voice isn’t Jay’s. Even with dimmed senses, you can tell that it comes from behind, not ahead. And there’s no trace of exertion in it at all. Just a barely concealed hint of amusement shrouded in unmistakable anger. “But I do rather doubt it will be fast enough.”

There’s bile in your throat as you watch Jay turn to face you. He notches an arrow in record time, and you realize your mistake. 

He’s not looking at you; he’s looking at it.

You fight off a wave of paralyzing nausea as the arrow sings through the air, aim so precise it could never land anywhere but home. Overwhelmed with the intense urge to be sick, it’s all you can do to keep your legs where they belong underneath you. 

But where you expect to hear the sickening sound of silver piercing flesh, your ears detect nothing. You’d blame it on the pounding in your head, but barely a moment passes before—

“Silver,” the same voice behind you muses, unnaturally smooth. “How curious.” 

Instinct has you turning, even as the night around you begins to darken around the edges, black spots clouding your vision as you lose your grip on consciousness. 

All you note are a smattering of features. Dark hair, just beginning to curl at the edges. An angular jaw, a prominent nose, shadows dancing over them in the moonlight. 

“Run along, now,” he instructs, voice caressing every syllable. “I wouldn’t want you to waste any more of your… arrows.” 

Fighting to keep your eyes open, you feel a hand on your shoulder. It’s warm, far warmer than the knife at your thigh. 

You think you hear Jay cry in the distance, a ravaged, “No” that cuts through the midnight air. But where you were once drowning in the overabundance of sensation, your body now seems to lack any feeling at all. 

It sounds like a lullaby when the voice above you says, “How curious.”

The arm around your shoulder is joined by another underneath the curve of your knees as the earth falls away from you. All you’re offered is one last muttering before the world around you goes loses all color. Before your vision goes completely dark. 

“How curious, indeed.”

…..

The world is already bright when you come to. Savoring the last traces of darkness your closed eyelids allow, you stretch your arms overhead, wondering distantly why your bed feels far more comfortable than usual this morning. 

Maybe, you think, as you begin to note the sensations coming back to life in your body, it’s simply due to the fact that you actually feel well rested. In fact, you can’t remember the last time you woke naturally and not to the sound of your obnoxiously loud alarm. Rolling over to your left, you reach blindly for your phone to shut off said alarm before it has the chance to disrupt the sliver of peace you’ve found this morning. 

A crease forms in your brow as your hands find nothing but more pillows where your nightstand should be. Even blind, you’ve done this routine enough times to navigate it sightlessly. And you’re sure your bed has never been this big before. 

Blinking your eyes open, it takes everything in you not to panic. 

This isn’t your room. It’s not Jay’s either. Granted, you’ve never woken up there before, but the line has been teased enough times to make crossing it the second most likely reason as to why you’re not home. 

But you can’t imagine his threadbare salary funding a canopy bed that’s home to a mattress that’s at least a king size, by your estimation. Nor can you imagine him electing to decorate his bedroom in deep hues of forest green and shimmering flecks of gold. 

It’s far too dated for your friend’s tastes, albeit gorgeous. Shrouded in finery, the ornate draping of your bed are almost the least interesting thing. Whoever this room belongs to, they have strange taste. It feels like a museum, almost. Regal. Preserved. A relic of time. 

But oddest of all is your lack of a headache. If that were at least present, overindulgence could help to explain your lack of memory and sudden appearance in unfamiliar surroundings. 

Glancing down at your body, you freeze. Covered head to toe in all black, the base layer of your hunting ensemble is easy enough to recognize. Gone are the more technical outer layers, the holsters and jacket and half mask. Your bow is absent as well, along with its matching quiver of arrows. 

Reaching for your thigh, however, you feel the unmistakable bulge of your hidden knife. Its cool kiss against your sleep-warmed skin is enough to spark a memory. 

And suddenly, it’s all coming back. 

The knife. The hunt. Jay. The chil—the vampire. 

Before panic can firmly take hold, a knock sounds at the door, interrupting your spiraling train of thoughts. 

It seems to be more a formality than a request, as the bedroom door opens mere seconds later, before you have the chance to flounder for a response. 

“Oh good,” an eerily familiar voice assesses. “You’re awake.”

Gaze rising to meet the sudden guest, your pulse quickens in your throat. Dark hair, a strong jawline. His features are no longer shrouded in moonlight, but you recognize them all the same. The ghostly sensation of his arms around your body sends a shiver down the length of your spine. 

There are a million questions to ask, a million escape routes to evaluate, but the only sound that escapes your mouth is a breathy—

“Who are you?” Your voice is barely a whisper, but he hears it with ease. It inspires a small twitch at the corners of his lips. The questions bubbles out without your consent, and you’re dreading the answer you can already sense, whether you’re willing to admit it or not. 

Pausing for a moment, the twitch extends to a close-lipped smile. “I would give you my name, but I don’t think it’s what you’re after.” 

You’re in no mood for riddles and have even less patience for games. It’s too bold, perhaps, your direct line of questioning. But you’ve been stripped of nearly all your lines of defense. If your death is what the monster in front of you wants, he’ll have it, no matter how well you observe the rules of propriety. “Am I your prisoner?” Still, you can’t help the way your hand drifts towards your thigh. 

The man, no, the vampire's gaze follows the movement. It elicits another amused smile. Nodding towards the obscured blade, he tilts his head slightly as he poses the question, “Is that made of silver as well?”

The inquiry only inspires a million more questions. How does he know about your knife? And if he knows, why hasn’t he confiscated it?

You abandon them in favor of reiterating, “Answer my question.” 

He silently holds your gaze for a moment longer, considering. “No, ___.” You do your best to contain the stifled gasp at the utterance of your name. “You are no prisoner.” Breaking eye contact, he adds, “At least not here.” 

Considering the situation, logic tells you that all of your instincts should be heightened, every nerve aware. But something has danger feeling out of reach, far from imminent. 

“I—I don’t understand.”

He smiles again, not unkindly although notably less amused. “No, I wouldn’t suppose that you do.” Turning to the right, his eyes find a focal point in the window you’d failed to note earlier. A quick glance now reveals next to nothing about your location. Much like the previous night, the monotony of the forest outside seems to extend as far as the horizon. “The company you keep seems to have done a thorough job of molding reality as they see fit. Even in the presence of direct contradiction, I imagine that is more than difficult to abandon.”

Company. “My friends,” you start, urgency rising as more of the previous night begins to unfold in your memory. “Are they—”

“Safe, I assure you.” Your relief is immediate as you watch as a lone muscle ticks in his jaw. “Although nearly driven mad with rage. The dark haired man, in particular.” Jay. “Quite a nasty jealous streak, I imagine.”

Your friends. Your team. Of course. A sliver of hope warms in your chest. 

“They’ll be looking for me, you know.” You weren’t afflicted by false modesty when you said that Jay was better than you at this. Even tucked away in a pocket of a neverending forest, you know he will find you. Your only prayer is that it won’t be too late. 

“They already are.” It’s equal parts confusing and infuriating, the way he seems unaffected by the knowledge. The way he suddenly takes to examining the skin of his fingers like he has all the time in the world, like none of this is any concern of his. 

And suddenly, you have another question. 

“I—what do you want with me?” You curse the waver in your voice, hate how small it sounds. 

Turning back to look directly at you, the vampire pauses. “As I said, ___. Long standing beliefs are difficult to unravel, even in the face of contradiction.” Taking a moment, his gaze slides down the length of your neck, flits over your shoulder before settling at your eyes. “You are no prisoner here. Say the word and you will be back with your friends before nightfall. But there is a reason I found you last night. And there is a reason you hesitated. A reason why Liliana is still alive.” Liliana. Confusion flickers through your gaze for a minute before you remember. The vampire. The child. It - she - must have a name. “I’d like to be given the chance to show you, if you’ll allow me.” Pausing, he adds, “I suspect you’ll want time to think, so I’ll take my leave for now.” Inclining his head slightly, the same sensation of a caress from the previous night coats every syllable that drips from his lips. “But the choice is yours, ___.”

True to his word, barely a moment passes before he is turning on his heel to exit the way he came. A single breath from you has him stopping, his long fingers curved around the ornate length of the door handle. 

“Wait.” You’re not sure what inspires the request, but alone and isolated with a man that could snap your neck long before you have the chance to so much as draw one last breath, you’re desperate for the facade of even footing. 

His gaze is curious when he turns over his shoulder, body still angled away from you. 

“I—” It seems so foolish now. You’re alive and unharmed, yes, but he’s still a vampire. Still a monster. “What is your name?” It’s barely audible, at least to human ears. 

When he smiles this time, a row of perfect teeth is revealed, incisors hardly more pointed than yours. “Sunghoon,” he returns. “My name is Sunghoon.”

And then, in the space of a blink, you find yourself alone once again.  

….. 

If Sunghoon proves to be anything, it’s a man of his word. 

Daylight gives way into nighttime, casting long shadows across the foot of your bed and still you have yet to be disturbed again. 

It’s not until after the sun has set that another knock shakes you from your thoughts. Spine straightening, you prepare to once again come face to face with a killer. But a long beat of nothing passes, and then another. 

“Come in,” you call out, assuming that despite all odds, he must be deciding to heed his manners. 

When even that fails to elicit a response, you stand from the bed, moving to open the door yourself. Swinging the door open with more force than strictly necessary, an empty corridor is all that greets you, lined with windows and little else. Gazing down the unperturbed expanse, a moment passes in which you contemplate making a run for it. 

You have yet to locate your shoes, but a few scrapes on your feet is nothing in the face of freedom. You could do it, you think. Could make a break for it and pray that the corridor doesn’t turn into a labyrinth. That you miraculously make your way out undetected. That you find your way to Jay before the forest takes you for itself. 

That Sunghoon was sincere when he told you you were not a prisoner here. 

But the sun has already gone to sleep for the night and you remember your previous luck in the moonlight. Better to devise an actual plan, you reason, than make a mad dash when your odds of survival are teetering dangerously close to zero. Still, you tuck away the knowledge that your room is left unlocked for safekeeping. 

Just as you're about to deem the knock a hallucination, a glance down reveals the source of the noise—a warm meal plated rather beautifully on a copper tray. Instinct has you looking at it with little more than suspicion, but the way your stomach gnaws around itself is enough to have you kneeling closer. 

Picking it up with hesitant fingers, you bring it into the bedroom before shutting the door firmly behind you. 

It takes little more than a minute of staring to decide that you’re useless without energy. That is Sunghoon wanted to kill you, poison would hardly be his first choice. 

Still, the first bite you take is slow, hesitant. Once it confirms that the meal tastes as good as it looks, it goes down much quicker. It’s a fact you find surprising, given your assumption that no one in the vicinity is particularly fond of human food. 

All too soon, the meal is gone and you are once again alone with the whirring in your mind.

Time to think, he had promised. But even with the absence of a certain dark haired distraction, your thoughts are difficult to steer. 

Born into a family of hunters, you’ve never once thought your knowledge of vampires to be lacking. But as minutes bleed into hours, you come to the startling realization that although you know the intricate details of their demise, much of the creatures themselves remain a mystery to you. 

More puzzling are the events of the previous night. Namely, the child. Liliana, Sunghoon had called her. 

In your teachings, vampires are created, not born. As such, young ones are extremely uncommon. You’d asked why once before—why vampires were hesitant to turn children into creatures of the night. The answer you’d received had been less than satisfactory, but it would seem that even monsters have their morals. 

There were hints, whispers in pages you’d read about vampires that were born, that had a lust for blood from infancy, but all of those cases were ancient, far predating modernity. Something to write off as an incorrect assumption by those who’d dedicated their lives to ridding the world of monsters long before your time. 

Lost in your thoughts, you find your way to the adjacent bathroom. The water that pours from the showerhead is warm and the pressure on your skin soothes as you wash away the events of the last day. With a clearer mind, you decide that Sunghoon must simply be a particularly despicable vampire with little qualms about stealing the lives of children. The thought settles unpleasantly at the base of your spine. 

Vampires are also meant to hate sunlight, you know, but the extensive windows your limited exploration has revealed seem to suggest otherwise. Writing this off as inconsequential, you continue bathing. 

Lathering soap over your exhausted body, you inhale sharply through your teeth as suds come in contact with a scrape on your shoulder that you’d failed to notice earlier. Although shallow, the remnants of blood are unmistakable. 

Blood. Another truth you let guide you. Vampires can appear calm, even civil at times. But rarely in the presence of an open wound. And never within a small distance from blood. The barest hint of it makes them crazed, turns them into the monsters of nightmares, gives their victims nothing more than a chance to blink before they’re left drained and dry and the creature is left sated. 

Adjusting the water pressure, you let the slight sting of water against the cut tether you to reality. To the fact that Sunghoon has been in your presence twice now without showing so much as a sign of strain. 

“Long standing beliefs are difficult to unravel, even in the face of contradiction.” Even in memory, his words feel like silk against skin, the hum of a once familiar lullaby. You don’t know if it’s delusion or exhaustion that has you wanting to consider them, but for the first time, you wonder if there are teachings, beliefs, truths that require further consideration. 

Again, Sunghoon’s words come to you. “I’d like to be given the chance to show you, if you’ll allow me.” Another, more resistant part of you wonders if this is all just part of a twisted game. If he too finds solace in the thrill of the hunt and you’re nothing but another piece of unassuming, gullible prey. 

Or even more terrifying yet, you wonder, watching silently as a droplet of water falls from your fingertip to the tile beneath, if the sincerity was not a facade. If every word he spoke was genuine. 

Your movements are mechanical as you make your way back to bed. But despite the lingering residue of terror that clings to your bones and the tightness that you can’t seem to shake from your chest, sleep finds you easily enough. 

In your dreams, you see a butterfly. Twirling through the air like grace personified, letting the breeze carry it until its dance comes to a crescendo against the skin of your outstretched hand. 

“Kill it,” someone whispers, the gentleness in their voice concealed by the command. “Kill it before it kills you.”

In your hesitation, the butterfly bites. It’s painless, but enough to draw blood. A single drop of crimson falls from your fingertip as you watch the butterfly soar above your head, wings carrying it far into the distance. 

…..

With morning comes another warm meal and your steely resolve to avoid seeking Sunghoon out. If he is waiting for you to come to him, fine. You hope for his sake that his patience extends as far as his hospitality. 

At an impasse, you refuse to remain a sitting rock, however. If nothing else, you assure yourself, familiarizing yourself with the… house? Castle? Mansion? You realize you’re not entirely sure. Regardless, familiarizing yourself with whatever building you’ve found yourself an unwilling guest in is sure to prove useful. 

As exploration reveals, the corridor outside your bedroom door holds little of interest. Although the architecture and decor are sorely out of place in the current century, the vast windows are no assistance in your determination to craft an escape. Similarly to your bedroom, they reveal nothing but trees, forest as expansive as the eye can see. 

Pushing further, you wonder if this is the stupidest decision you could have made, if the castle, the name which you’ve decided suits the space best, is teeming with bloodthirsty monsters and you’re playing directly into their trap by wandering its halls. 

But one corridor gives way to another, and soon, you’ve been tiptoeing for the better part of an hour without stumbling upon another soul. Or another creature, at the very least. 

Although you cover plenty of ground, the excursion leaves much to be desired. Finally bold enough to open doors instead of just sneak through hallways, you find rooms that seem to serve very ordinary purposes. A ballroom. More bedrooms. An atrium. A study. Only at the banquet hall do you pause, suppressing a shiver at the question of what exactly is consumed there. 

It’s at the very end of another surprisingly bright hallway that you stumble upon your most interesting discovery yet. Straining to open the heavy double doors that enclose it, you find yourself in what can’t be anything but a library. And an incredibly well-stocked one at that. 

The large room is filled floor to ceiling with shelves upon shelves of books, beautiful bindings and ancient looking spines that catch in the light. With frustration from your earlier dead ends turning molehills into mountains, it feels like a gift. 

And it seems as good a place to start as any. 

Scanning titles for anything resembling vampires or history, you bring a small pile of volumes to the age-worn chaise tucked away in the far corner of the room, next to another large window. 

As you open the volume, its spine crinkles under your fingers, as if it’s been left untouched for years. Centuries. Pausing only for a beat, you start to scan the text. Engrossed in your reading, minutes begin to give way to hours. 

In your concentration, the sun is already dancing along the horizon by the time the same silky voice you've become far too acquainted with in the past day draws you from your reverie. 

“You’ve decided to find answers on your own, then.”

Startled, your heart jumps into your throat as your eyes flicker up to the man in question. How he managed to come through the doors without your detection can be a mystery for another day, you decide. There are more pressing matters at hand. 

“You can read my thoughts?” The horror must be apparent enough in your voice. 

Again, your words cause a small twitch at the corner of his lips. “I’m afraid not.” There’s humor in his voice when he elaborates, “Your expression, on the other hand, along with your selected reading material,’ he nods to the book clutched between your fingers like a shield, “those I can deduce quite easily.”

Moving with the grace and silence of a cat, he comes to stand before you, mere feet from the pile of books to your left. Bending, he retrieves the one at the top of the stack. 

“And as much reverence as I hold for each of these authors, I’m afraid you won’t find the answers you seek here.” He meets your eye when he adds, “Some history is too delicate for something as malleable as a story, don’t you think?”

Not in the mood to be toyed with, your eyes narrow. “I don’t know what this is or who you are, but I don’t want anything to do with it.”

“No?” He muses. “I can’t help but notice that you haven’t requested to leave yet. Tell me, did you enjoy yourself today? I’m sure I could provide a much better tour, but you’ll have to forgive my lack of hospitality.” His eyes darken a fraction of a hue. “I was trying my best to stay true to my word.”

The faint amusement that colors his words only angers you further. He’s enjoying this, you realize. Dragging this, whatever it is, out. Playing with you. 

“Request to leave?” you echo, anger swirling in your tone. “And I’m just supposed to take your word for it? To trust you, when you kidnapped me and brought me here against my will and put me in a room—”

“I wasn’t aware that you found your accommodations unsatisfactory.”

“I’m not talking about the goddamn accommodations.” The book on your lap slides to the floor with a muted thud as you stand to your full height. Still a few inches below eye level, the footing you find here is at least slightly more even. 

Stepping forward until scant inches separate you, your rage swirls in your vision. “You’ve done nothing but speak in riddles since you brought me here. Which, again, was not by my own choice. You tell me I’m free to leave and expect me to trust that it’s not all part of some sick game where I end up cold and bloodless and six feet under the trees outside your windows.”

A moment passes as something flickers through his eyes. But he remains silent. Evaluating. 

“You’re a vampire, Sunghoon. You tell me I have it all wrong, that some truths are lies—fine. But don’t expect me to sit here and play into your little game like a fool. I won’t.”

He breathes your name, something in his voice softening impossibly further as he takes a step forwards.

Forgetting that the proximity was of your doing, you reach for the blade still tucked against your thigh. In the space of a heartbeat, it’s at his throat. 

“Don’t,” you warn, skin hot where it connects with the handle of your knife. You can feel his breath against the crown of your head. His eyes narrow as they scan your neck once again. 

“I am,” he breathes, the vibration of his vocal chords radiating through the arm that serves as your last line of defense. “I am a vampire. And even with your knife on my neck, you’d be dead if I willed it so.”

“Then prove it.” Your knife inches a hair’s breadth closer to his jugular. “Stop talking in circles and kill me.”

His expression remains infuriatingly guarded. “I think I would find that to be rather counterproductive.”

The pressure on the blade increases. Your chest is heaving beneath the lightweight fabric of your shirt. “I said stop with the fucking riddles, and tell me what you want.”

Sunghoon’s eyes meet your own, wide in their sincerity. Something fizzles. Like a string pulled too tight, like a knife against a throat, the facade snaps. 

He’s quiet when he finally admits, “I need your help.” 

“My help,” you repeat hollowly, already uninterested. You’re unsure what use you could possibly serve the being in front of you other than sustenance. 

“Please,” he nods, and it sounds like a prayer. You watch as his throat works around a swallow, as his skin kisses the edge of your knife. “Allow me to explain. Let me show you.”

Every instinct is screaming at you, warning of the obvious trap. But his earlier words are still ringing in your mind. “You’d be dead if I willed it so.”

You know it’s true, and if this is him playing you for a fool, you’ve met a sparring partner you have no hope of besting. 

The blade falls limp at your side, your chest still rising and falling at an accelerated rate. 

Even as you nod your silent agreement, there’s distrust in your eyes and a dying protest on your lips.

Across from you, his gaze holds gratitude and something else, something far more foreboding. Something you can only call fear. 

Despite it, his movements are even as he turns, motioning wordlessly for you to follow. 

The room he guides you to was missed on your earlier tour. The door creaks as it opens, and you wonder for a moment if this is truly where it all ends. Devoid of any light, the room is tucked away in a shrouded corner. As the door falls back into place behind you, the space is submerged in complete and utter darkness. 

But a slight rustle of movement and the hollow sound of a moving lever fill the once empty, domed ceiling with a projection of the night sky. You watch, mouth opening in awe as the cosmos begins to dance above you. 

Planetarium is the only adequate descriptor you can think of. You find yourself momentarily speechless. 

Regaining some semblance of sense, you’re about to ask what on earth stars have to do with vampires when Sunghoon begins. 

“I know that you are instructed to believe that vampires are created, not born. And I suppose it is true, in a sense.” His eyes are trained on the projection of the night sky when he adds, “But it is not other vampires that create them.” 

Sensing your immediate confusion, he sighs, long and deep. “I suppose I should start at the beginning. Long ago, there was a man who believed he had cracked the code for immortality. A gifted astronomer not above stealing the work of others, he created an impossible theory. It suggested that when Amalthea, the fifth moon of Jupiter aligned just so with Earth’s moon, it would create a sort of gate.” Sunghoon pauses for a moment, directing your gaze towards each of the moons in question. “A path through the heavens that connected our world with an immense power. Something that when harnessed correctly, could grant immortality.”

Sunghoon’s words cease as he presses the lever forward once again, sends the stars spinning as if years are passing in the space of moments. 

“So he waited. Eight long years studying and revisiting his theory, for the two moons to align.” Gesturing once again towards the makeshift sky, you find that the movement of the cosmos has indeed created a direct path between the two. “And when they did, he used ancient knowledge, stolen from an enchantress, to connect the worlds. He succeeded. Only, the path didn’t connect to an immense power. It connected to another world, one full of people that appeared identical to humans. In his haste to close the gate and anger at his failure, he accidentally created a shift, transporting some of these… beings to our world.” With every passing beat, the usually silky cadence of Sunghoon’s voice gains a sharpened edge.

“One of these beings was a young woman. An incredibly gifted woman, who, when unintentionally thrust from her home, begged the man to accept her help reopening the gate. To help her find her way home. He accepted under the guise of assisting her on her journey, but secretly, he was still hopeful for his chance at immortality. It was under these false pretenses that the two of them began to work together. And at first, they seemed to be making good progress, charting the stars and predicting when the next alignment would occur.”  

A distinct hint of somberness enters his voice. “But before they could be sure of the next date of alignment, the woman fell ill. Very ill. She was eating and behaving as she always had, but suddenly, her body was starving. It didn’t matter how much she consumed or what she did. With each passing day, she became weaker as her body began to suffer from malnourishment. 

“Desperate, the man called on his brother, an accomplished doctor, to help the woman. In his carelessness, he revealed the secret of her origins. As part of his attempt to heal her, the second brother asked what she had eaten in her home world. The woman explained that there, all people received their nourishment from the same thing: a single plant. Similar in shape to a lily, she described harvesting the flower’s nectar. That in her world, this nectar of a single flower could sustain a grown adult for over a month.”

Sunghoon pauses again, eyes falling shut for a fleeting moment before he opens them. “They tried, but the brothers were unable to find any flower, any food, any substance of remote similarity.” He’s quiet when he says, “The woman died less than a week later. The only cause of death the second brother could find was malnourishment.” Sunghoon presses a button again, sends the pair of you spinning through time as he presses on through the story. 

“Soon, reports of similar occurrences began to arise in the area. People starving to death even though they were consuming more food than ever before. Assuming that more beings from this foreign world had simply traveled down the same path as the woman, the two brothers mourned the first brother’s mistake but decided that there was nothing they could do.” 

Above you, the moons are out of alignment. In your periphery, Sunghoon takes a breath. 

“Until one day, the second brother was visiting a market in a neighboring village, searching for medicinal herbs that were difficult to come by at the market in his home village. As he approached the medicine stand, he saw two people already speaking with the shopkeeper. One was a caretaker. And his charge, the person he was accompanying, was one of these beings, these people that were starving to death against all reason. Withering away into nothing, no matter how much he consumed. Within earshot of the conversation, the second brother heard the caretaker inquire after some sort of remedy. The shopkeeper offered his condolences, but sent them away empty handed. 

“While the second brother approached the shopkeeper to inquire after the herbs he was seeking, he noticed two men fighting near the edge of the wood. He never did hear the source of their quarrel, but it soon became intense enough to draw blood.”

At his sides, Sunghoon’s hands stiffen.

“He described the movement as nothing he had ever seen before. In one breath, the dying man was sitting, near comatose, in a makeshift wheelchair. In the next, he was all the way at the edge of the wood with the two men. Only now, one of them was being drained completely of blood.”

A sinking feeling begins to build in your stomach as you feel the weight of Sunghoon’s eyes against the side of your face. 

“The gate wasn’t a gift of immortality, ___. It created a rift, a tear that was never meant to exist. Brought things to Earth that were never meant to step foot here. If that horror wasn’t enough, it wasn’t long before the affliction began to spread. It wasn’t just otherworldly people that were dying, that, if exposed to blood, were feeding . The first brother had opened the gate for a virus, for something beyond ordinary understanding and even further beyond human control.”

Your lips part, heartbeat echoing in your ears. 

“The first brother reaped what he sowed eventually. The second brother was early in his affliction; the virus had not yet taken enough hold to starve him. But the first brother was careless in his handling of field notes one afternoon. He gave himself a paper cut, barely beyond surface level, while studying planetary movement. It was the last thing he ever did.”

Emotion clouds your vision just as it clings to Sunghoon’s words. Still, he presses on.

“The second brother was sentient enough to be horrified with himself, but he did not know how to stop. How to take control of what he was, of what he’d become. He called upon other gifted doctors, scientists, historians, and astronomers to help him close the gate, to end the virus, to search for a cure. On his search, he came across a woman, and she too was from the other side of the gate. She had discovered, unintentionally but the damage was all the same, that human blood could provide the same sustenance as the flower from her world. Desperate to return, she sought out the second brother and vowed to help them in their quest to close the gate.”

Once again, Sunghoon sends the planets spinning. Above you, the moons are nearly aligned. 

“They got their chance. Nearly six years later, the moons had once again aligned. But what the others didn’t know is that the woman and the most gifted of the astronomers had fallen in love. The gate was reopened, but at the last moment, she chose to stay.”

Sunghoon presses the button once more. The moons fall apart. 

“To ensure their safety, the astronomer killed the others, save for one historian he was never able to locate. Their decision meant that the virus only spread further, until there was no corner of the earth it left untouched, unravaged in its destruction. 

“In an ironic sort of way, the first brother was right. The virus, what you call vampirism, does grant eternal life. Those who are infected stop aging. And if they are still in childhood, they experience an accelerated growth until they reach maturity. Eventually, time freezes them as well. But eternity was never meant to exist here, and that everlasting life is one full of suffering and pain. Guilt and regret.”

When Sunghoon turns to face you this time, you meet his gaze.

“We’re not meant to be here, ___. And I think you just might agree that it’s time we go home. To a place where we can exist without being monsters.”

The emotions swirling in your gut are hard to place and even more difficult to name. Above you, the stars still set the room aglow, twinkling in a way that feels tangible. Ultimately, you have a question. 

“Why do you need my help?”

Sunghoon smiles, no trace of humor on his lips. “The historian, the one that escaped death all those centuries ago? You’re a direct descendant. There’s an odd sort of magic around the gate. In order for it to open, it requires direct witnesses. Or at least blood relatives of one,” he amends.

Confused, you start, “Blood relative? How do you know that I —?”

“It was difficult to be sure. To be honest, that night in the clearing, my concern was for your safety. I’ve seen the aftermath of a hunter who expresses empathy for an afflicted person.” Sunghoon winces, something akin to a memory flashing through his mind. “It’s very rarely pretty. But then I touched you, and… I don’t know. It’s difficult to describe. But something in me knew.” His gaze meets yours. “Knows,” he amends.  

The smarter, more logical parts of you want to resist. Magic? Lineage? Another world? It’s far beyond the reach of the common sense that’s kept you grounded all these years. 

But there’s something in you that sings, too. That feels like a spark, a jolt of electricity perhaps, whenever you find yourself near Sunghoon. An hour ago, you would have called it bad fortune. A curse that’s difficult to shake. 

But you read the desperation in his eyes as clear as day. If one thing is certain, he believes what he says to be true. 

Pressing further, you decide to deal with the concrete details for now. It’s unlikely magic will ever warrant a response that satisfies the more logical parts of your mind. “Earlier, you said witness es,” you repeat, emphasizing the plural. “How many people does opening this gate require?”

Sunghoon doesn’t miss a beat. “Ever since the first brother opened it, two. A precautionary measure perhaps, but history has proven even that is easy to override.”

Scoffing, you look away. “And where exactly do you plan to find this other direct descendant? I mean, wasn’t everyone involved murdered, according to your story?”

Sunghoon remains impassive. “I’ve already found him.” 

“You’ve already f—” Your words die on your lips as realization dawns across your features. “You. You’re a direct descendant.”

Sunghoon nods, lips tight. “The astronomer and his lover, the woman from this other world, they had a child, a son. And when time came to prove that he was just like his mother, they made the decision to protect him, to keep him a secret.”

What he says should be impossible. But it’s one improbability that rises to the forefront of your mind. “You’re centuries old?”

“I’ve adapted quite well, no?” The quirk to his lips is humorless, more for your sake than his. 

But you’re in no mood for jokes either. Sensing this, Sunghoon drops the facade. His voice is unbearably gentle when he explains, “Believe me, I’ve exhausted all other options. There’s a laboratory here. One that I built. It’s dedicated to replicating the chemical makeup of the flower that sustains us in the other world, but it’s been years. Hundreds, actually. Medicine and technology keep advancing, but I have never been able to find an alternate form of sustenance.” His eyes are dark, exhausted despite his immortality. “Blood is still the only thing that keeps us alive in this world.” 

His features are pleading, begging you to understand when he says, “We were never meant to be here, ___, and it’s time that we go home.”

Something in you breaks a bit at his usage of the word. Home. 

Home, when he was born to this world just as you were, when it’s all he’s ever known. When fate decided to be cruel in the cards it dealt. When he was never truly given a chance to be anything but a mistake. A monster. 

You think of Jay, how him and the rest of your team are probably searching for you at this very moment. How Sunghoon’s offer still stands to take you to them, to let his strife become nothing but a memory that weighs on your consciousness during sleepless nights. 

“I’ll help you.” You’re not sure where the conviction in your voice comes from, but a fragment of his sorrow seems to sink its sharp claws into your skin. You’re no prisoner here, but knowledge holds you captive all the same. “I’ll help you go home, Sunghoon.”

“Thank you.” Gratitude drips from every word. “Truly, ___.” 

With stars suspended overhead and a revelation on the horizon, you ask, “How much time do we have?” 

Sunghoon’s eyes are still on yours when he answers. “Eighteen days.”

…..

In the days that follow, the castle reveals itself to you. Or rather, is uncovered by its master himself. 

Sunghoon is the one to sound a knock at your bedroom door one morning, to show you the laboratory he spoke of previously. It’s there that you meet Jungwon and Heeseung, the scientists that have dedicated their life to lessening the burden of their existence on the world. Even in the briefness of your introduction, you can see the exhaustion that pulls at every fiber of their beings. 

They never say it, but you can see it in their eyes. They want to go home, too. 

It’s just six of them, Sunghoon explains, that live in the castle. Like Heeseung and Jungwon, the others were also generous enough to heed his warning to stay hidden before you were made aware of their existence, but now you have the pleasure of meeting them all. 

Jaeyun you owe more than his fair share of gratitude, as he’s been responsible for keeping you fed with the delicious meals that haven’t stopped showing up outside of your door since your arrival. 

Sunoo and Riki are quieter. They’re kind when you meet them, but reserved. Sunghoon explains that they spend the majority of their days outside of the castle walls, offering whatever assistance they can at the small village just south of here, a village populated entirely by vampires. 

“We offer guidance,” Sunghoon says when you ask. “Provide alternative methods to the bloodlust that often comes with the affliction. We help people control it, to lead lives they find fulfilling while they wait for the day they get to go home as well.” 

What Sunghoon doesn’t fill with tours is occupied by preparation. For you, it mostly involves studying planetary alignment, learning to recognize the traceable, albeit invisible signs of energy that will guide you in the days to come. 

Interestingly enough, it’s Sunoo that directs your study here. Unlike his father, Sunghoon has never had a particular fondness for the night sky. 

Instead, it’s in the library that you find him, day in and day out. Just like you, when his duties have concluded for the day, he prefers to tuck himself into a candlelit corner and pour over texts until the sun rises once again. Unlike you, however, he has the advantage of not needing to sleep, a fact you’re sure to remind him of every time he makes a teasing comment about how long it takes you to finish a book. 

Perhaps most interesting of all is that way that as the eighteen-day timeline begins to steadily shrink, so does your aversion towards him.

Most evenings in the library are spent in near silence, nothing but a small nod of acknowledgement offered between the two of you when you stumble across each other there. 

But other nights, you talk. About nothing. About everything. And all that lies in between. 

Slowly, a sort of trust begins to build. You tell him of your limited family history, the awful hunt years ago that left you an orphan and solidified your fear of failure, of the consequences it can bring. 

In turn, Sunghoon explains that in your lineage, historian turned to hunter when your distant ancestor, so overcome with guilt for the role he played in unleashing the virus upon the world, dedicated his life to eradicating Earth of the vampires that roamed it. It was a passion he passed down through his bloodline, all the way to you. 

Other nights, Sunghoon listens in contemplative silence when you tell him of your friendships, jaw working around a swallow when you reveal that your bond with Jay extends back to before the two of you could walk. 

“Are the two of you…?” In the light of day, it’s a question that would feel frivolous, trivial, unimportant. But here, hidden away between stacks of ancient with only candlelight to guide your thoughts, it feels like a revelation. 

“No,” you shake your head. The lone muscle in his jaw relaxes. Both of you pretend not to notice. 

When you excuse yourself back to your room for the night, the only farewell he offers is a nod, not bothering to look up from the thick volume splayed across his lap. 

But you feel his eyes trace the planes of your back with every step you take towards the door that shuts with a muted thud, that separates you from him once again. 

When the remaining days whittle down to just over a week, Sunghoon is the one to seek you out. He finds you in the planetarium, lip tucked between your teeth as Sunoo once again explains the orbit pattern of Amalthea, the coordinates you’ll need to commit to memory. 

Sunghoon’s entrance is silent, as always, but the shift in the air whenever that follows his presence has become more noticeable. Now, it's a vibration that seems almost visible. When he enters, you don’t even need to use Sunoo’s gaze as a guide when you turn over your shoulder to find Sunghoon already looking at you. 

“___,” he greets, before turning to his friend. “Is it alright if I borrow her for a moment?” Facing you again, his features soften as he explains, “There is something I’d like to show you.”

It takes a moment to realize that the place he is leading you to lies outside of the castle walls. For a heartbeat, you hesitate. It crosses your mind then that you’ve never strayed from the grounds, not even on the overcast afternoon during which you took to exploring the gardens that line the perimeter. 

Sensing your hesitation, Sunghoon glances down at you. “You’ll enjoy this, I promise.” 

Promise. It’s the first time he’s used the term, and your gut tells you it doesn’t fall from his lips lightly. With the heat of the day on your skin and sunlight in your eyes, it strikes you that these are the last days you’ll ever have with him. The last moments of his time in your world. 

“I know,” you return. Blind faith is foolish but there’s little to be lost in this game of chance.

Suffering. It’s how he’d described his time here, his life away from the world he belongs to. If anything, you want to give him a few moments of peace. Good memories to look back on. 

In the end, he’s right. And just ever so slightly wrong. 

Enjoyment is not the word you’d use to describe the feeling in your chest when he brings you to the edge of the small village just north of the castle. But there is a distinct sort of overwhelming fondness you feel when a child spots Sunghoon among the villagers and makes a direct beeline towards him. 

Even though the distance you saw her from before was considerable, there is no doubt in your mind that the girl currently wrapping her tiny arms around Sunghoon’s legs is the same child from the cleaning. 

Liliana.

This time, you note, her footing is sure. 

Bending down to her height, Sunghoon tells her in an audible whisper, “Liliana, there’s someone I’d like for you to meet.” 

Like any child, the sentiment makes her bashful, steals a bit of the playfulness she’d approached with. But Sunghoon’s voice is a remedy for most afflictions, as you’ve come to find. 

“This is my friend, ___.” Sunghoon angles his body to gesture towards you. “She’s the one who’s going to help us go home.”

A small wave is all that Liliana can manage, still shy in the presence of an apparent stranger. But you hear the equally loud whisper she directs into Sunghoon’s ear all the same. 

“She’s pretty.” 

“Mm,” Sunghoon hums. When he meets your eye, something unbearably fond shimmers in his gaze. “She is, isn’t she?”

…..

The next time your path crosses with Sunghoon’s in the library, less than a week remains until fate is sealed in the form of aligned moons. It’s only been a handful of evenings since you last saw him, but something has you wondering if he’s been intentionally avoiding your presence. 

You have half a mind to question him on it, but the sight that greets you has the words dying on your tongue as you make your way through the labyrinth of bookshelves. 

You’re not sure how a creature of the night, a being with no need for sleep, can manage to look so utterly exhausted . 

From the slump of his usually straight shoulders to the droop in his eyelids, you wonder if you should call upon Heeseung or Jungwon to assess him. 

Instead, you place a gentle hand on his shoulder. 

“Sunghoon?” you try. His name has never sounded so tentative on your tongue. 

In lieu of a response, he lets his head loll slightly, forehead towards the ceiling as his gaze falls on you. Something in your bones is begging to run your fingers through the hair that gathers over his eyes, and resistance has always been futile. 

His hair is soft, you think. Soft and thick and beautiful where it flows through the gentle caress of your fingers like silk. 

Beneath your touch, Sunghoon stiffens. It lasts barely a moment before he’s melting, sinking into the sensation. His eyes flutter shut as he leans in further to the heat of your palm. 

“Sunghoon?” you try again, hands still soothing against his temple. 

“Mm.” You feel his answering hum more than you hear it. 

“Are you alright?”

There’s a pause, a heartbeat, and exhale. And then—

“Yes.” You’re left unconvinced, and he can sense it. “I’m just… thinking.”

“Thinking?” you echo.

Everything around you is still. Even the air seems to be holding its breath. 

“Worrying,” he clarifies, eyes finding yours as soon as they reopen. He’s honest when he tells you, “Wondering if this will work. If I’ve done more harm than good. If I’ve gotten everyone’s hopes up only to watch them fall again.”

It’s a possibility, you know, and a very real one. You can see it in the crease between Sunoo’s brows every time you meet over a stack of maps and cosmic guides in the planetarium. You can feel it in the tense line of Heeseung and Jungwon’s shoulders when you linger in the doorway of the laboratory. You can hear it in Jaeyun’s forced laughter over the latest meal he’s prepared for you, in the hushed whispers Sunoo speaks every night he returns from the village. 

And it’s here now, in the open honesty of Sunghoon’s wide-eyed gaze, reflecting moonlight and fear and hope all at once. 

But that will do him no good now. And you refuse to serve as a mirror of his pain. 

“I think it’s a beautiful thing,” you whisper, voice half swallowed by midnight air. “To have hope at all. To be given a chance to dream.”

You don’t know what your efforts will bring, what fate the days to come will set into stone. But you know that the man in front of you, that the soul he wears on his sleeve, deserves to feel peace, to find a place of rest. 

So you’ll divert the course of conversation, speak of possibilities as if they’re a sure thing. 

“When you’re home, will you remember this?” you ask. Remember me? You don’t say it, but it echoes around the library, bounces off of ancient pages and beloved texts all the same. 

Sunghoon still holds your gaze, and the moment around you feels suspended in time. A blip on a timeline that extends towards infinity. “Of that, I am not sure.” You don't know which of you has leaned in. All you know is that you’re closer when he adds, “I can say that I hope with each and every passing breath that the universe will at least be kind enough to give me that, to let me keep you when I go. But I have never found it to be particularly cognizant of my deepest wishes.”

Your hands are still in his hair and stars are still in his eyes. Every response you search for dies before you can breathe life into it. 

“There’s a theory, actually,” Sunghoon continues. “Buried in the pages of the second brother’s journal. Nearly lost to the centuries. He thought that it was possible that versions of us exist in every world. Sometimes I wonder, if the version of myself that was meant to be here, is in the world where I belong. If he suffers too.” 

Shaking your head, you ignore the dampness beginning to accumulate at the corners of your eyes. “He’s not,” you assure him. Even though you have no way of knowing. Even though you never will. “He can’t be. If I’m sure of anything, it’s that there is no version of you across the entire universe that isn’t cared for.”

It’s as good as a confession, even though you could be speaking of his friends, of all the wandering souls he’s helped lead to solace. 

You’re not, and both of you are well aware, but you could be. And in the end, it’s the hypothetical that leaves the inches that separate you unbreached, the line that divides you uncrossed. 

You don’t know what it is, this pull, this utter magnetism that burns like an open flame whenever you’re in his proximity. But it’s a heat that feels good to lean into, to get lost in, even if only for a moment. 

Love. What good can it do when the forces you grapple with are cosmic, far beyond your understanding? 

But something, deep down, begs to differ. After all, it was love that caused this chaos. Perhaps it's poetic justice, then, that love could also be its cure. 

They’re thoughts that linger into the night, long after you’ve let your touch fall from Sunghoon’s hair, long after you’ve let the library door close behind you. 

And as you drift off to sleep, you wonder if Sunghoon ever misses the release of consciousness you feel dragging you under. You wonder, if given the chance, what it is he would dream of. 

…..

Times presses onwards, and soon it feels more effective to count in hours instead of days. 

It’s a cruel sort of irony, that just as they’re about to fall from your outstretched grasp, Sunoo and the planetarium begin to feel as familiar as the back of your hand. Sunghoon’s presence starts to become natural, too. Expected. Awaited. He takes you to the village to visit Liliana, just once more. It would become a regular occurrence, you’re sure, but once is all that time allows. 

Nights still find you in the library. More than once, you forgo returning to your room in favor of drifting to sleep in the cradle of the ancient chaise tucked away in the corner. Every time your subconscious takes flight, you pretend not to feel the way Sunghoon’s gaze lingers. You’re not sure why—both of you have stopped pretending that books are the only force compelling you there. 

Tonight, your hands are in his hair again, providing small comforts in fleeting touches. He has that look again, the one of exhaustion. Like the weight of the world is on his shoulders and he’s one breath away from buckling underneath it. 

Sitting before you, he lets his eyes drift shut. For a moment, you pretend that he’s sleeping, that this world is kind enough to grant him a moment of rest, to color his vision with sweet, nonsensical dreams. 

Standing between his legs, it’s a vantage point you’re rarely afforded. Looking down on him, you busy yourself studying the angle of his jaw, the curve of his cheekbone. The slight pout of his lips. The way the moon outside the window and the candle to his left seem to find him just as irresistible, highlighting every plane and dip with a glow that feels intentional. 

You can’t blame them. He’s gorgeous. Overflowing with something you just might call magic. 

The ache in your legs, born from another endless day, is temptation enough to find a seat of your own. But with a ticking countdown in the back of your mind and echoing all around you, this view isn’t one you’ll give up so easily. 

“You asked me once,” Sunghoon breathes into the stillness, and you feel the warmth of his breath against the skin of your wrist. His eyes are still closed. “If I would remember this.”

You nod. “I did.”

“I want to.” His brow furrows, like it pains him to say. “For a long time, I did not. I was not exaggerating when I told you that this world was not meant for me, nor I for it. But still…” Trailing off, he leans a bit further into your touch, coaxes your fingers further into his hair. “There is beauty here, in this life. Kindness, hope, love.” He lingers on the final syllable. There’s a pause before he adds, “But it would be a lie if I were to suggest that my desires were entirely… altruistic.”

“Sunghoon,” you breathe. Whether to warn or encourage, you haven’t decided. 

“You’re beautiful, ___.” His eyes are open now, half lidded where they meet yours. “And I want to remember this. Remember you.”

His hand on your wrist stills the motion of your fingers. Time is suspended in midair, caught somewhere between a dream and reality when he moves it slowly, gently to his lips. 

With a touch like silk, you don’t know why you ever imagined this to be any different. 

It’s a slow movement, a single kiss that he presses to the back of your hand. But as moments bleed into one another and still the clock ticks onward, relentless, you want to find something to hold onto. Find something for him to remember. 

He’ll spare you the strain of a long search. With a hand on the back of your thigh, the ache in your legs and his distaste for distance are remedied all in one fluid motion as he guides you to sit across his outstretched legs. 

The position still leaves you above eye level, and the look he offers is almost reverent as he finds a home for his palm against your nape. For a moment, he does nothing but brush small strokes against the back of your neck with his thumb, molten touch leaving embers in its path. 

“Please,” he whispers, and you want to tell him that there was never a need to beg. Never a struggle to be had. Not here, in the quiet oasis of moonlight and trepidation. 

Instead, you show him. Despite the newness of it all, your lips find his with a practiced ease. Within a life that’s been limited to hours, there is no rush in your movements. 

Here, it’s easy to believe that for a moment, for a hundred moments, for eternity, it’s just you and him. So with your fingers back in his hair, you take your time. 

Sunghoon does the same, letting his long fingers drift over ribs and vertebrae, uncovering heated skin with a careful touch that leaves something worthy of love in its wake. 

“I have you,” he assures, gentle and pleading when the crease between your brow deepens. You don’t know how to convey that it’s an overwhelming sense of pleasure that screws your eyelids shut, so you tighten your fingers in his hair and give in to the electric sensation that sings everywhere he touches you. 

Logic tells you that you’re still seated on his lap, tucked away behind books and memories and the weight of what’s yet to come. But with closed eyes and a bleeding heart, all you feel is the distinct sensation of falling. 

Down. Down. Down. 

And Sunghoon surrounds you. He’s everywhere. Above you, beneath you, inside you. 

Every caress, every whisper, every fleeting touch that soothes like cool water on an arid day. 

It’s not love, not when your days were limited from the beginning and time has been militant with its onward march. But it could be, if given the time to grow, to bloom, and that somehow hurts even more. 

What could be is a difficult thing to mourn. 

But with a lover inside of you and moonlight kissing the skin between your shoulder blades, possibility fades away as soon as it takes flight. The sensation, the touches, the pleasure that blooms with every brush of skin—you’ll let it all ground you to this moment, commit it to a memory worth returning to. 

And when the crescendo quiets to its inevitable end, you send a silent prayer out into the universe that Sunghoon will have the privilege of doing the same. 

…..

Sunlight streaming in through the library window is what stirs you from your slumber. Still wrapped in the embrace of Sunghoon’s arms, it’s an occurrence you’ve already begun to grow used to. 

It would be a cruel stroke of fate then, that your eighteen days have drawn to a conclusion. You can feel it, in the way he hesitates to let you stand, fingers tightening before they relax. A fool’s bid to extend a finite moment just a bit further towards eternity. 

There are no words exchanged as you dress yourselves. You both know what’s coming. 

Your time with Sunoo has revealed that the moons will align before midday. It seems counterintuitive that the moment at which the planetary body is most powerful is when it’s obscured from view. But in a way, maybe it’s a gift. A last attempt at kindness that means you won’t have to prolong the final, most painful moments that mark the end of Sunghoon’s time in your world. 

In the end, it’s done with little fanfare. 

It should be momentous, you think. Catastrophic. All-consuming. 

But even impossibly large masses of energy are invisible to the naked eye, and you’re left relying on what you’ve spent the last two weeks studying to guide you. 

“Now,” Sunoo nods, and it’s quiet. There’s no need to shout, not when the earth around you is still, as calm as the surface of a lake on a windless day. But Sunghoon’s eyes find yours, and there’s panic in them. Desperation. 

You know yours are nothing but a mirror. 

“Thank you,” he whispers, reaching out to let his smallest finger ghost over your own. 

You nod, afraid words will fail you. 

“I will remember you.” It’s a vow, a promise that you won’t get to watch him see through. With the odd juxtaposition of sunlight over a dying day, ancient magic rears its impervious head once again, centuries later but just as potent. 

The only physical form it takes is a light so bright you squint on instinct. That, and the same sensation of electricity you’ve always felt from Sunghoon, magnified, sharpened into something you fear will singe your skin. 

But eventually, the light fades. The electricity settles into nothingness. 

And you’re left alone with reminders of what’s been lost to the ripples and waves of the cosmos. 

Home. It strikes you then that perhaps you should be searching for the same. 

And wherever Sunghoon is in the universe, you hope that he is at peace. 

…..

Warily eyeing the crowd of freshly turned eighteen-year-olds, Jay turns to you before saying, “You know, you really don’t have to do this.”

You do know. And even if you didn’t, it’s the seventh reminder Jay’s given you since you left your apartment this morning. It’s why the only response you offer is an exaggerated roll of your eyes. 

In all honesty, the crowd is a bit intimidating. Especially since they all already seem to know each other somehow. But you made a promise to yourself, and today is not the day to start letting fear keep you tethered in place. 

“I’m just saying,” Jay continues, and it’s lighthearted enough to feel teasing, despite the fact that his offer is completely genuine. Despite the fact that he’s still hoping you’ll take it. “The studio could use some extra help, and especially with new lessons picking up next month. There’ll always be a place for you there.” Nose scrunching in distaste as he scans the crowd again, he adds, “And there wouldn’t be so much PDA. My god, did the brochure say that you receive a free tonsil exam at orientation too?”

Disregarding his last comment, you weigh a response on your tongue. Part of you wants to accept, wants to embrace the familiarity of an old friend and stick to what you’ve known for the past three years. 

Three years. It feels impossible, but the old adage rings true. Against all odds, despite all lingering heartache, life does find a way to go on. 

For you, it started with a return to the old training gym and a fabricated story about a miraculous escape and a solo journey through the woods back home that you managed to survive. The truth felt too raw then, too recent to divulge. 

And even as time soothed the edges of the open wound, you felt your inclination to alter Jay’s reality fade away with it. All he knew was that business began to slow down. That one day, reports of vampires were as frequent as car accidents and the next, there was nothing. 

With a bit of convincing and a lot of self-realization, he found a home too. In a music studio where the precision that used to make him a weapon of deadly accuracy turned him into a conduit of the kind of grace you’ve only seen once before. And the best guitar player you've ever heard.

He’s an instructor now, and a damn good one at that. With the kind of patience you could never hope to master and the resiliency that led to him opening his own studio, he’s found a place for himself amongst it all. 

And you know it’s more than just generosity that inspires his words. He means it when he says there’s a place for you there, too. But three years have passed and you’re still searching. The kindness in his eyes when he offers you a place in his home doesn’t erase the fact that you’ll always be a guest there, albeit a welcome one. 

But you want a home, too. A place to come back to when the dust settles and the currents ebb and the sun dips below the horizon. A space where rest comes easy, where peace feels like second nature. 

You don’t know if you’ll find it here, but you figure it’s as good a start as any. 

As was once explained to you in the quiet corner of a once frequented library, historian turned to hunter once. It feels like the natural progression of things, the perfect, cyclical rhythm to reverse it once again. 

So you laugh while Jay complains with every load of belongings he helps haul up to your dorm, which just so happens to be on the top floor. There’s caution in his eyes when you introduce yourself to your new roommate, a girl nearly four years your junior because life has happened on a different timeline for you. 

And there’s love in his embrace when he hugs you goodbye, makes you promise to call him at least once a day and visit every two weeks. Pride in his gaze when he hands you the sheet of paper you accidentally drop—the directions to the history department, where you’re scheduled to pick up your orientation packet in less than an hour.  

You’re not sure what it is yet, but it feels like a start. 

And a handful of weeks later, with another essay deadline looming on the horizon and your favorite space in the campus library already solidified—an armchair tucked away in the corner behind the shelves full of classics, right next to a tall window—you stumble on your way there, frazzled mind the perfect catalyst for a collision with another overworked student. 

After your yelp of surprise, you’re apologizing profusely. “I am so sorry. I wasn’t watching where I was going, and—”

The words die on your lips as your victim holds out the textbook that you dropped in the chaos, offering reassurance with a soft smile. His eyes are kind, framed by dark hair that’s just beginning to curl at the edges. An angular jaw. A prominent nose. 

“I—” you try, a million and one words getting caught in your throat, dying on your tongue. “Sunghoon?”

Smile still in place, a small crease forms between his brows as his eyes glimmer, head tilting ever so slightly in confusion. “Have we met before?”

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