stone heart, wings of gold

you sigh, picking at the food in front of you. not that the boy across from you notices. he’s too absorbed in his phone, scrolling with a small smile on his face.

what is so interesting?, you wonder. what is so interesting that it takes precendence over talking to me for just a bit?

“y/n”, he laughs a bit, looking up at you with a small smile. and despite all your inner turmoil, you can’t help but smile back at the sight of the boy you’ve been crushing on for years looking so happy.

but not because of you.

“hm?”

“onedoor are so funny. look,” he shows you his phone screen. on it is a meme of him, edited to look like a pepper.

you nod, exhaling slightly. “mm. very funny.”

he chuckles to himself and settles back into his chair, no doubt typing out a reply. he’s been like this the whole day. first at the movies, now at this restaurant. always ignoring you.

when did this happen?

so many years ago, he had looked at you like you hung the stars in the sky. when you had told him he should go for his dream of becoming an idol, he’d thanked you for believing in him.

where had that gotten you now?

“today was nice,” riwoo hums as the two of you approach your home. the neighborhood that riwoo grew up in as well. you remember running back from school with him, laughing as you raced down the street, shouts of who would get a sweet treat first echoing in your mind.

“yeah,” you say, but your chest feels hollow.

riwoo stops in front of your walkway, and you stop too. he stares at your face for a moment, dark eyes studying your features, before his gaze dips down to your lips. he steps closer, hands coming up to cup your cheeks, leaning in, coming closer and closer and closer-

“riwoo!” you snap, pushing him away, stumbling back. your chest is heaving, your heartbeat is pounding in your ears, and you’re sure you’re wearing a matching look of bewilderment as the one on riwoo’s face.

“what- y/n?” he sputters, eyes wide.

“was that- were you trying to kiss me!?”

“no- yes- i just- at the end of the first date, don’t people usually,-”

“god,” you groan, pinching the bridge of your nose. “this isn’t a stupid movie, riwoo.”

“i’m trying to make this a good date for you!”

“you’re trying?” you scoff. “listen. when i confessed to you, did you accept my feelings just so you wouldn’t hurt my feelings?”

he’s silent. and that’s all the confirmation that you need.

“you’ve changed, riwoo. if you don’t like me,” you begin, crossing your arms over your chest, “you could have at least been honest with me.”

riwoo shakes his head, eyes wide. “no, y/n, that’s not true. i do like you!”

“then why didn’t you treat me like you do?”

“i…”

“and i thought… oh, forget it,” you sigh. “we’re done.”

“what?”

“we’re done.”

⋆.˚ ☾⭒.˚ want to check out the planetarium's other exhibits?

Tonight it's while you're brushing your teeth.

The bathroom light is warm. The apartment is quiet. You can hear the TV playing faintly from the living room where Sungho is sprawled across the couch waiting for you to finish getting ready for bed.

Everything is normal, and somehow that's what does it.

You look at yourself in the mirror. You're alive. Your heart is beating. Your lungs are breathing.

You exist.

And then the thought slips into your head.

One day I won't.

Your hand freezes. The toothbrush hangs uselessly in your mouth.

The thought grows.

One day this will end. One day I'll die.

You stare at your reflection.

No matter what I do. No matter how healthy I am. No matter how happy I am. One day I'll stop existing.

The room suddenly feels smaller.

Your chest tightens.

You spit out the toothpaste.

The panic arrives so quickly it almost makes you dizzy.

Because the worst part is, it's unavoidable. You can't fix it. You can't solve it. You can't study harder or prepare better or work your way around it.

It's just there.

Waiting.

A truth every person on earth carries around.

And for some reason tonight your brain has decided to hold it directly in front of your face.

Your breathing becomes uneven. Your hands start shaking.

"No."

You grip the edge of the sink.

"No, no, no."

Your chest hurts.

The familiar terror starts crawling through your ribs. Not because you're dying. Because one day you will.

Eventually.

Inevitably.

The realization crashes into you over and over.

You sink onto the closed toilet lid. Trying to breathe. Trying not to cry. Trying not to think.

But that's impossible.

Because the more you try not to think about it, the louder it gets.

The bathroom door opens a few minutes later.

"Sweetheart?"

Sungho's voice is soft and careful.

When you don't answer, he steps inside and immediately his expression changes. Because he knows this look. He's seen it before.

The trembling hands. The glassy eyes. The way you're staring at absolutely nothing.

"Hey," he kneels in front of you.

Your eyes finally find him, and somehow that makes everything worse. Because suddenly tears spill down your cheeks.

"Sungho."

His face softens immediately.

"Oh."

He reaches for your hands.

They're freezing.

"It's happening again?"

You nod. Once. Then twice. Unable to speak properly.

The words eventually stumble out anyway.

"I'm scared."

His thumbs rub across your knuckles.

"I know."

"I'm really scared."

"I know."

Your breathing catches.

"No matter what I do—"

Your voice breaks.

"No matter how alive I am right now—"

More tears.

"One day I'm going to die."

The words sound ridiculous when spoken aloud. Yet they hurt just as much. Maybe more.

Because they're true.

You see it in Sungho's eyes. Not agreement. Not dismissal. Just understanding.

The kind that hurts. Because he knows he can't tell you you're wrong.

Instead he carefully pulls you forward. Until your forehead rests against his shoulder.

His arms wrap around you immediately.

Holding you together.

"I know."

You start crying harder. Because that's the problem. Everybody knows. Everybody just—

Lives anyway.

How? How does everyone keep going? How does nobody panic all the time?

"How are you okay with it?" you whisper.

Sungho is quiet for a moment. You feel his chest rise and fall beneath your cheek.

"I'm not."

You blink, "What?"

"I'm not okay with it."

You lift your head. His smile is small, sad, and honest.

"I don't think anybody completely is."

The answer surprises you.

You expected reassurance. A perfect speech. A magical sentence that would make the fear disappear.

Instead he just looks at you.

Human.

Real.

"I don't want to die either."

Your throat tightens.

Sungho continues, "I want more time."

His fingers lace through yours.

"I want to grow old."

A tiny smile.

"I want annoying wrinkles."

You let out a watery laugh.

He smiles a little wider.

"I want to keep eating good food."

"And?"

"And I want to keep loving you."

Your eyes burn.

"But that's exactly why it scares me."

"I know."

"Then how do you deal with it?"

Sungho thinks for a long moment.

Then he gently presses your joined hands against his chest.

Right over his heartbeat. "Like this."

You feel it. Steady, warm and alive.

Thump.

Thump.

Thump.

"I can't control someday," his voice is quiet, "but I can control right now."

Another heartbeat.

"I'm here right now."

Another.

"You're here right now."

Another.

"We're alive right now."

You stare at him. Trying to absorb every word. Trying to convince your terrified brain.

Sungho reaches up and wipes away a tear.

"I think that's why moments matter so much."

Your lips tremble.

"Because they end?"

He nods.

"Because they end."

The bathroom falls silent.

For a while neither of you speaks. You just sit there listening to his heartbeat. Feeling your own slowly calm down.

The fear doesn't disappear. It never completely does.

That's the frustrating part.

The thought will probably come back next month. Or next week. Or tomorrow.

It always does.

But eventually your breathing steadies. The panic loosens its grip and the world becomes real again.

Not the terrifying future. Not the endless unknown.

Just right now.

Just Sungho, his hand holding yours and the warmth of the apartment. The TV still playing in the other room. The fact that you're both here.

Alive.

When Sungho finally stands, he tugs gently on your hand.

"Come on."

"Where?"

"Bed."

You sniffle, "That's your solution?"

"Pretty much."

A small smile appears on his face.

"We'll watch something stupid."

"What if I start thinking about it again?"

He squeezes your hand. "Then I'll remind you again."

"Again?"

"Again."

"And again?"

"Again."

You finally laugh. A real one this time.

Sungho looks ridiculously pleased with himself. As if making you laugh was his entire goal.

Maybe it was.

He leads you toward the bedroom.

Your fear isn't gone. But it's quieter now. Not because you found the answer. Not because mortality suddenly makes sense.

But because for tonight, at least, you're not carrying it alone, and that makes the weight feel lighter.

© All rights reserved @gigisnextdoor 2026.

The smell of a new apartment is refreshing.

It's a fresh start, a blank slate for you to decorate, and goddamn, was it expensive. You stand in the doorway, eyes staring at 2 years' worth of savings. It's hard to believe you finally own your own place, away from bad roommates and annoying siblings.

"Babeee, You've been staring for hours. Can we go in now?"

Your boyfriend's whining behind you pulls you from your thoughts, a reminder you aren't completely alone. You giggle as he shuffles past you, a "wow" falling from his mouth as he takes in the space himself.

You remain idle as he ventures further into the apartment, leaving you alone at the entrance. Old memories start to flood through your mind as you step into the emptiness, the floorboards creaking with every step: this was one of the cheaper options.

You remember when you first met Leehan during your exchange year to Korea; it was your first time traveling outside of your home country, so you were awfully confused.

You weren't sure how to work the ATM at the convenience store next to your university; it was embarrassing, especially since there was a man behind you grumbling because you were taking too long. You almost gave up before Leehan approached you.

His personality was warm, his smile shining brighter than any star you've seen; nothing has changed since then.

What you recall specifically are his brown eyes; they never left you as you fumbled your way through the steps, almost dropping your card because of the proximity between you both.

You got his number after that—

"Sweetheart, come here!"

—and now you're here, about to officially start your life together.

You dive deeper into your mind, pulling out emotions and moments you haven't thought properly about in a while. You find yourself pulling at your own heartstrings as you enter the room Leehan called you into.

"Come see,"

He's looking out the window; you can see his eyes sparkle in the reflection as he takes in the view. You join him, your hands resting on his shoulders as you lean in to take a good look.

"..The city?"

Leehan shakes his head. He takes your hand from his shoulder and places it on top of the glass; you open your fingers, squinting at the sudden blue light bursting from behind your palm.

"There's a pet shop that sells fish across the street." 

Your heart swells at his boyish tone. You stare at his reflection, pupils dilating at the sight of his eyes turning into crescents. You watch as he swallows and turns towards you, meeting you.

"Don't look at me like that.." He mutters, averting his eyes to a corner in the room. You smile as blush creeps up his neck.

"Aww, but I think it's cute that you want to become a dad early—"

"Ugh, shut up."

You snort as your boyfriend wrestles you to the ground; he pins your wrists above you, panting slightly. 

It's suddenly quiet; Leehan gazes at you with nothing but love in his eyes, you shrink under it. Quite like you did earlier, you get back into your head. You have flashbacks to your first date, when he met your parents, to years of barely eating to save for this place, and now finally having it. You're overcome with emotions, and before you can stop it, tears well in your eyes.

Leehan instantly tenses, his hand coming down to your cheek in an attempt to soothe you.

"Wait- please don't cry. Why are you crying?" He questions, leaning down to kiss the wetness off your face.

"It's hard to explain," You start, sniffling as your boyfriend pampers you. (You also try to force out a few more tears so it lasts longer.) He hums in response and rolls off of you, lying on his side next to you on the floor.

"Well, good thing I have time."

A smile makes its way onto your face as you turn towards him, now doing everything to avoid eye contact.

"I guess I'm overwhelmed with my emotions. I'm happy, but then I remember how hard it was to get here, and then I don't know how to feel."

"I think you should be proud of how far you've come."

You pause at the quick response; you never thought of it in that way. You did sacrifice loads to be here: money, time, your mental health, almost everything. Leehan is right; you should feel accomplished for this journey.

"You have a way of saying things," You finally respond, wiping the excess tears from your cheeks.

"Do I now?"

"I'm serious."

He slowly rises from the floor; he seems surprised. You mimic his movements, eventually gaining the courage to make eye contact with him.

"Anytime I talk to you, I feel instantly better. It's hard to believe I deserve you."

Leehan rolls his eyes, blush returning to his pretty face. You can tell your words touched him, even if he didn't say anything.

You both sit there in silence, soaking in the moment while it lingers. Though reality returns to you in a cold chill. You realize how numb your legs are from the chilly floorboards.

"How about blowing up that air mattress now?" You break the silence, wrapping your arms around yourself.

"Yes, please, I was about to say the same thing." Leehan groans, stumbling to his feet.

You both laugh as you run back out of your apartment, broke, with barely any furniture, but still happy to be with each other.

a / n : HEY finally pushed this out, I can feel myself slowly start liking writing again😛😛 maybe this is good for me. ANYWAYS LIAAA I HOPE YOU ENJOY LOVELY

masterlist

PERM ๑　@beomtomie @leehanisleehaning @ajjaehyun @leeknowramona @wensurr @vanillakirstein @lovehakie @wishieyu

“practice was horrible today. all i could think about was how i just wanted to come home and see you. i’ve been thinking about this all week.” he rolls over to his side and gazes up at you with half-lidded eyes, and something in your stomach does somersaults.

“sorry, jae. i’ve been busy. i just had two presentations this week.”

“i know,” jaehyun sighs, but it’s fond, affectionate. “my best friend is so smart.”

whatever butterflies were building die on the spot.

jaehyun continues in the same breath. “ah, of course university is busy. you must be tired too. sit down, y/n.” he pats the space next to him, and you reluctantly settle into the small space created by the curve of his body. he’s so close you can feel the warmth radiating off his skin.

“what’s the plan for today?” you say softly, just loud enough for him to hear.

jaehyun looks up at you, smiling. “i ordered your favorite when you said you were on your way. maybe just a movie? how about…”

as he talks, all you can think of is how you love that smile. how you love how frequently it graces his cheeks, how you wish he’d smile at you and not have a label of “best friends” behind it.

the doorbell rings throughout the apartment, and jaehyun sits up in a nintey-degree angle almost instantly. “that must be the food! i’ll get it.”

“no, i can do it,” you start, standing up and taking a step towards the door, but jaehyun makes a sound of protest. you hear the rustling of sheets before the familiar weight of his hands brackets your waist, pulling you to the side gently so he can slip past you. the movement is sudden, yet everything seems to stand perfectly still. even as you see his figure disappear past the doorway of his bedroom, you can still feel the ghost of his warmth, the apparition of something so undeniably him so close to you almost as natural as breathing. a shiver traces itself down your spine, as quick as he’d passed.

as quick as he’d passed, he’s back. eyes bright and smile wide, clutching a plastic bag in one hand and the edge of his denim jacket in another. “look!” he exclaims, and you nod weakly, swallowing down the urge to just cup his face in your hands and kiss him.

you’re done for.

⋆.˚ ☾⭒.˚ want to check out the planetarium's other exhibits?

As someone who survived a devastating earthquake in 2016, which left me with severe PTSD at the age of 12, I know a little of what so many people there are experiencing right now. I know what it's like to jump at every vibration, to be terrified of sleeping indoors, to wait for the next aftershock, and to feel like the ground beneath you can never truly be trusted again, and to desperatly wait for your family members to walk through that door alive. What happened in Venezuela isn't "just another earthquake." On June 24, the country was struck by two extremely powerful earthquakes, a magnitude 7.2 followed just seconds later by a magnitude 7.5. That second quake hit before many people had even processed the first, causing catastrophic damage across northern Venezuela, especially in La Guaira and parts of Caracas. Rescue teams are still searching through collapsed buildings, and the number of victims continues to rise as more people are found. My heart especially aches for the children, because disasters don't only destroy buildings, they leave families separated, people displaced, and children at a much greater risk of exploitation and trafficking. In moments like these, fear and desperation become opportunities for predators, which is why protecting vulnerable people must be just as important as rescue efforts. The picture below you is an actual child/people trafficking disguised as online shop, please take a look at it:

To everyone in Venezuela: your grief is seen, and your fear is valid. And to those who are spending another night outside because they're too afraid to go back into their homes, I hope you know that people around the world are thinking of you. If you've never experienced an earthquake before, please don't tell survivors to "just calm down." Trauma doesn't disappear once the shaking stops, sometimes the hardest part begins afterward. Here are some links that I've seen so far to help.

Caritas Venezuela (LINK HERE): Known as the helping hand of the Church that reaches out to the poor, the vulnerable, and the marginalized, regardless of race or religion, to build a world founded on justice and brotherly love.

Diviendo Voluntariado (LINK HERE): A civil association that brings together efforts from the private sector and adds value to corporate social responsibility initiatives, in partnership with social development organizations, authorities, agencies, and communities, with the aim of promoting actions that improve the quality of life for people in Venezuela.

Yummy Rides Donations (LINK HERE): A ride-sharing mobile app that operates primarily in Venezuela, designed to book safe and affordable rides by car or motorcycle that joined the cause.

Help find their mascosts: TWITTER POST HERE

THIS WEBPAGE was created by a Venezuelan with certified channels to help (donating, voluntaring, look for people, food and clothes.)

GOOGLE DOCS with links as well in both languages SPA/ENG

CURRENT TWITTER POSTS THAT UPDATE LINKS TO HELP VENEZUELA (will update this everytime i get):

POST #1

POST #2

you thought the letters were cute at first.

"i liked your hair," "you looked good today," some compliments anyone could say. but despite not knowing who these were from, you felt your stomach turn. your best friend could tell you this and you'd just go "thank you." a relative go say the same thing and you'd think they're just being polite. but something about getting anonymous letters sent specifically to you made you feel special. it made you feel wanted. you weren't popular or anything, so you this person really had you wrapped around their finger with their charming letters. you never wrote back—obviously, though its not like you could either way—but you re-read them every night, wondering who of all people it could be from.

soon enough, the letters were written describing things that were specifically you. mentioning habits only you have. then again, you still thought it was cute. like this admirer noticed you enough to mention how you specifically doodled bunnies and aliens at the right bottom corner of your notepad when class got boring. like they adored you enough to discern the way you'd sneak off to rooftop after tests, usually because you got stressed easily and wanted some fresh air and to take a breather.

you smiled everyday as you saw the letter stuck on your locker through the tight closing of the metal door after your third class, skipping to the cafeteria as you read the letters with your friends over lunch.

as the details grew more accurate and oddly specific, your friends slowly started to feel uneasy about this person.

"isn't it weird that this person knows so much about you?"

"i don't think it's weird. i think it's sweet that means someone likes me enough to notice me that much."

"yeah, but don't you think they're paying too much attention to you?"

"you guys are too anxious. chill out a bit!"

after a while, this person started talking more about themself little by little rather than sending you compliments only.

you learned he was a guy, and that he was into music. besides that, he mentioned a recent hobby he had was photography.

"if you'd like, i could send you some pictures i took in my next letter. if you want that, leave this paper on top of your locker. i'll leave a sticker of a camera on your locker if i got the paper." his letter read.

doing as told, you left the letter on top of the metal box. soon enough, you saw the sticker on your locker.

honestly? despite how much he told you about himself already, you still weren't interested in finding out who he really was. sure, you were curious, but you also enjoyed the thrill of the mystery, the way you were clueless of his identity.

finally, the next day came. his letter was already there when you arrived at school. you opened it immediately, finding aesthetic pictures, the kinds you'd find on pinterest. in one of the photos, he took a picture of a puddle from a rainy day. you could see a soft reflection of him holding his camera up over his face, his black fluffy hair covering up the rest of his features that the camera didn't hide. you found that photo alone attractive, growing more attached to this guy.

since then, he'd been sending you photos daily and talked about them too, whilst still talking about little habits you had that he (in his words) loved, cherished, and adored.

soon, he started taking pictures of you.

along the photographs of night skies and windy meadows, there were snapped moments of when you weren't paying attention in class, chatting with your friends in the cafeteria, waiting for your ride back home. you started finding these little things odd, though then again you dumbed it down to this guy being 'romantic'.

as the letters kept coming, he'd been even more specific with the things you do. worst of all, he started mentioning 'how nice your room is', and 'i love the little posters on your walls, and those tiny figurines on your study desk.' it was unsettling. you were already certain that this person wasn't your close friend. first of all, you rarely invite your friends into your room. not only because it's a mess most of the time, but also because you see it as your private space, for you and only you. as the weeks passed and you kept reading the letters, chills would run down your spine for different reasons from before.

the messages kept coming. 'i liked your pajamas last night, pastels suit you.' 'you should tie your hair up more often, you look better.' it was like there was a literal camera in your room, and he would watch the footage while writing you his next letters. sometimes, you'd talk to yourself and some of his messages in the letters would be like responses, as if he'd been part of the conversation.

soon enough, it became obvious that you were creeped out by this. you started leaving the papers to pile up, the letters dropping to the floor as rushes of students passed through the hallways in between classes. he started leaving them more and more, trying to put them in places you couldn't ignore. pinned onto your locker by a magnet, on the desk of your next class, and even on your friend's lockers. you picked them all up and threw them into the trash, trying to stay away from him as much as possible now. you were too late, though. you already fed into his obsession.

as you rushed to the benches outside your school to wait for your ride, you suddenly felt a tight grip on your wrist that dragged you to an empty classroom. it couldn't be any of your friends, they'd all left already. you heard the click of the door locking, the guy's back facing you. then, he turned around. it was han taesan, that guy in band club. you knew him from being partnered together in a few class projects, but you never really paid proper attention to him.

"why have you been ignoring me? have i done something wrong??"

"taesan? wha-" 'what are you saying?' you wanted to continue, but then it hit you. the letters you've refused to read. the stacks of papers you've thrown out. the familiar hair and face shape. 'i'm into music,' and he's in band. 'but recently, i've really been enjoying photography,' and there's a camera strapped around his neck.

han taesan was your secret admirer. or rather, your stalker.

"why are you the one asking me questions? shouldn't it be the other way around?"

"no, answer me first!"

"fine, then! it's because you're a creep, han taesan! knowing where i live, checking out my room, watching me at night, taking pictures of me—you're genuinely insane! you're brave enough to do that but you can't even approach me?"

with those words, something in taesan snapped. his demeanour changed quickly from pleading, needy, and desperate, to something darker. more dangerous, rather.

"creep? insane? y/n, i did all that because i love you. i want to get to know you more." he seemed all soft and gentler now, but something was off. like he had set up a trap, and he was waiting for you to fall into it. "i wanted to find out more things about you. things that only i know." he reached his hand out to you, wanting to touch or hold you. your hand, your arm, your waist, anything. "that's what makes our love special, y/n. it's secretive. we know things about each other that others don't."

you stepped back as he reached out, trembling and genuinely terrified, unsure of what to do. you felt that if you ran away or tried to escape, he'd charge at you and keep you pinned down. or maybe knock you out and trap you in some dark place like in movies.

"taesan, that's not love! that's obsession... that's... that's stalking! and if that's your idea of love, you're messed up. you're a freak, you're sick in the head! you-"

you were about to go on, but then he suddenly pulled you over and held you against the door, pinning you and trapping you. his voice was a lot softer now, which terrified you even more than yelling. "maybe. maybe you're right. maybe i'm what you say i am. obsessed, messed up, a freak, sick in the head—but it's all for you, baby. because i love you and i want you. i need you, y/n, and i can't live without you." he leaned in closer whispering into your ear. you stood still with your breath held, petrified. you felt that it you squirmed a bit much or even breathed too loudly, he'd do something you wouldn't like. "though i do wish that you could understand me... in another universe, maybe. maybe you'll love me for who i am, for my actions. maybe you'll be mine, and only mine. i don't care. even if it means hurting your friends to keep them away from what's not theirs, ill do it. but maybe in another universe, you'll understand why i'm like this... and maybe you'll love me the same way."

taglist: @moesthinking @shyeppi @mykaneptune @ivehan @wnouzi @andnevertheless @coriihanniee @loveseobie @taestulipss @berrybittynetwork @k-records

you sigh, picking at the food in front of you. not that the boy across from you notices. he’s too absorbed in his phone, scrolling with a small smile on his face.

what is so interesting?, you wonder. what is so interesting that it takes precendence over talking to me for just a bit?

“y/n”, he laughs a bit, looking up at you with a small smile. and despite all your inner turmoil, you can’t help but smile back at the sight of the boy you’ve been crushing on for years looking so happy.

but not because of you.

“hm?”

“onedoor are so funny. look,” he shows you his phone screen. on it is a meme of him, edited to look like a pepper.

you nod, exhaling slightly. “mm. very funny.”

he chuckles to himself and settles back into his chair, no doubt typing out a reply. he’s been like this the whole day. first at the movies, now at this restaurant. always ignoring you.

when did this happen?

so many years ago, he had looked at you like you hung the stars in the sky. when you had told him he should go for his dream of becoming an idol, he’d thanked you for believing in him.

where had that gotten you now?

“today was nice,” riwoo hums as the two of you approach your home. the neighborhood that riwoo grew up in as well. you remember running back from school with him, laughing as you raced down the street, shouts of who would get a sweet treat first echoing in your mind.

“yeah,” you say, but your chest feels hollow.

riwoo stops in front of your walkway, and you stop too. he stares at your face for a moment, dark eyes studying your features, before his gaze dips down to your lips. he steps closer, hands coming up to cup your cheeks, leaning in, coming closer and closer and closer-

“riwoo!” you snap, pushing him away, stumbling back. your chest is heaving, your heartbeat is pounding in your ears, and you’re sure you’re wearing a matching look of bewilderment as the one on riwoo’s face.

“what- y/n?” he sputters, eyes wide.

“was that- were you trying to kiss me!?”

“no- yes- i just- at the end of the first date, don’t people usually,-”

“god,” you groan, pinching the bridge of your nose. “this isn’t a stupid movie, riwoo.”

“i’m trying to make this a good date for you!”

“you’re trying?” you scoff. “listen. when i confessed to you, did you accept my feelings just so you wouldn’t hurt my feelings?”

he’s silent. and that’s all the confirmation that you need.

“you’ve changed, riwoo. if you don’t like me,” you begin, crossing your arms over your chest, “you could have at least been honest with me.”

riwoo shakes his head, eyes wide. “no, y/n, that’s not true. i do like you!”

“then why didn’t you treat me like you do?”

“i…”

“and i thought… oh, forget it,” you sigh. “we’re done.”

“what?”

“we’re done.”

⋆.˚ ☾⭒.˚ want to check out the planetarium's other exhibits?

you sigh, picking at the food in front of you. not that the boy across from you notices. he’s too absorbed in his phone, scrolling with a small smile on his face.

what is so interesting?, you wonder. what is so interesting that it takes precendence over talking to me for just a bit?

“y/n”, he laughs a bit, looking up at you with a small smile. and despite all your inner turmoil, you can’t help but smile back at the sight of the boy you’ve been crushing on for years looking so happy.

but not because of you.

“hm?”

“onedoor are so funny. look,” he shows you his phone screen. on it is a meme of him, edited to look like a pepper.

you nod, exhaling slightly. “mm. very funny.”

he chuckles to himself and settles back into his chair, no doubt typing out a reply. he’s been like this the whole day. first at the movies, now at this restaurant. always ignoring you.

when did this happen?

so many years ago, he had looked at you like you hung the stars in the sky. when you had told him he should go for his dream of becoming an idol, he’d thanked you for believing in him.

where had that gotten you now?

“today was nice,” riwoo hums as the two of you approach your home. the neighborhood that riwoo grew up in as well. you remember running back from school with him, laughing as you raced down the street, shouts of who would get a sweet treat first echoing in your mind.

“yeah,” you say, but your chest feels hollow.

riwoo stops in front of your walkway, and you stop too. he stares at your face for a moment, dark eyes studying your features, before his gaze dips down to your lips. he steps closer, hands coming up to cup your cheeks, leaning in, coming closer and closer and closer-

“riwoo!” you snap, pushing him away, stumbling back. your chest is heaving, your heartbeat is pounding in your ears, and you’re sure you’re wearing a matching look of bewilderment as the one on riwoo’s face.

“what- y/n?” he sputters, eyes wide.

“was that- were you trying to kiss me!?”

“no- yes- i just- at the end of the first date, don’t people usually,-”

“god,” you groan, pinching the bridge of your nose. “this isn’t a stupid movie, riwoo.”

“i’m trying to make this a good date for you!”

“you’re trying?” you scoff. “listen. when i confessed to you, did you accept my feelings just so you wouldn’t hurt my feelings?”

he’s silent. and that’s all the confirmation that you need.

“you’ve changed, riwoo. if you don’t like me,” you begin, crossing your arms over your chest, “you could have at least been honest with me.”

riwoo shakes his head, eyes wide. “no, y/n, that’s not true. i do like you!”

“then why didn’t you treat me like you do?”

“i…”

“and i thought… oh, forget it,” you sigh. “we’re done.”

“what?”

“we’re done.”

⋆.˚ ☾⭒.˚ want to check out the planetarium's other exhibits?

you sigh, picking at the food in front of you. not that the boy across from you notices. he’s too absorbed in his phone, scrolling with a small smile on his face.

what is so interesting?, you wonder. what is so interesting that it takes precendence over talking to me for just a bit?

“y/n”, he laughs a bit, looking up at you with a small smile. and despite all your inner turmoil, you can’t help but smile back at the sight of the boy you’ve been crushing on for years looking so happy.

but not because of you.

“hm?”

“onedoor are so funny. look,” he shows you his phone screen. on it is a meme of him, edited to look like a pepper.

you nod, exhaling slightly. “mm. very funny.”

he chuckles to himself and settles back into his chair, no doubt typing out a reply. he’s been like this the whole day. first at the movies, now at this restaurant. always ignoring you.

when did this happen?

so many years ago, he had looked at you like you hung the stars in the sky. when you had told him he should go for his dream of becoming an idol, he’d thanked you for believing in him.

where had that gotten you now?

“today was nice,” riwoo hums as the two of you approach your home. the neighborhood that riwoo grew up in as well. you remember running back from school with him, laughing as you raced down the street, shouts of who would get a sweet treat first echoing in your mind.

“yeah,” you say, but your chest feels hollow.

riwoo stops in front of your walkway, and you stop too. he stares at your face for a moment, dark eyes studying your features, before his gaze dips down to your lips. he steps closer, hands coming up to cup your cheeks, leaning in, coming closer and closer and closer-

“riwoo!” you snap, pushing him away, stumbling back. your chest is heaving, your heartbeat is pounding in your ears, and you’re sure you’re wearing a matching look of bewilderment as the one on riwoo’s face.

“what- y/n?” he sputters, eyes wide.

“was that- were you trying to kiss me!?”

“no- yes- i just- at the end of the first date, don’t people usually,-”

“god,” you groan, pinching the bridge of your nose. “this isn’t a stupid movie, riwoo.”

“i’m trying to make this a good date for you!”

“you’re trying?” you scoff. “listen. when i confessed to you, did you accept my feelings just so you wouldn’t hurt my feelings?”

he’s silent. and that’s all the confirmation that you need.

“you’ve changed, riwoo. if you don’t like me,” you begin, crossing your arms over your chest, “you could have at least been honest with me.”

riwoo shakes his head, eyes wide. “no, y/n, that’s not true. i do like you!”

“then why didn’t you treat me like you do?”

“i…”

“and i thought… oh, forget it,” you sigh. “we’re done.”

“what?”

“we’re done.”

⋆.˚ ☾⭒.˚ want to check out the planetarium's other exhibits?

you sigh, picking at the food in front of you. not that the boy across from you notices. he’s too absorbed in his phone, scrolling with a small smile on his face.

what is so interesting?, you wonder. what is so interesting that it takes precendence over talking to me for just a bit?

“y/n”, he laughs a bit, looking up at you with a small smile. and despite all your inner turmoil, you can’t help but smile back at the sight of the boy you’ve been crushing on for years looking so happy.

but not because of you.

“hm?”

“onedoor are so funny. look,” he shows you his phone screen. on it is a meme of him, edited to look like a pepper.

you nod, exhaling slightly. “mm. very funny.”

he chuckles to himself and settles back into his chair, no doubt typing out a reply. he’s been like this the whole day. first at the movies, now at this restaurant. always ignoring you.

when did this happen?

so many years ago, he had looked at you like you hung the stars in the sky. when you had told him he should go for his dream of becoming an idol, he’d thanked you for believing in him.

where had that gotten you now?

“today was nice,” riwoo hums as the two of you approach your home. the neighborhood that riwoo grew up in as well. you remember running back from school with him, laughing as you raced down the street, shouts of who would get a sweet treat first echoing in your mind.

“yeah,” you say, but your chest feels hollow.

riwoo stops in front of your walkway, and you stop too. he stares at your face for a moment, dark eyes studying your features, before his gaze dips down to your lips. he steps closer, hands coming up to cup your cheeks, leaning in, coming closer and closer and closer-

“riwoo!” you snap, pushing him away, stumbling back. your chest is heaving, your heartbeat is pounding in your ears, and you’re sure you’re wearing a matching look of bewilderment as the one on riwoo’s face.

“what- y/n?” he sputters, eyes wide.

“was that- were you trying to kiss me!?”

“no- yes- i just- at the end of the first date, don’t people usually,-”

“god,” you groan, pinching the bridge of your nose. “this isn’t a stupid movie, riwoo.”

“i’m trying to make this a good date for you!”

“you’re trying?” you scoff. “listen. when i confessed to you, did you accept my feelings just so you wouldn’t hurt my feelings?”

he’s silent. and that’s all the confirmation that you need.

“you’ve changed, riwoo. if you don’t like me,” you begin, crossing your arms over your chest, “you could have at least been honest with me.”

riwoo shakes his head, eyes wide. “no, y/n, that’s not true. i do like you!”

“then why didn’t you treat me like you do?”

“i…”

“and i thought… oh, forget it,” you sigh. “we’re done.”

“what?”

“we’re done.”

⋆.˚ ☾⭒.˚ want to check out the planetarium's other exhibits?

you sigh, picking at the food in front of you. not that the boy across from you notices. he’s too absorbed in his phone, scrolling with a small smile on his face.

what is so interesting?, you wonder. what is so interesting that it takes precendence over talking to me for just a bit?

“y/n”, he laughs a bit, looking up at you with a small smile. and despite all your inner turmoil, you can’t help but smile back at the sight of the boy you’ve been crushing on for years looking so happy.

but not because of you.

“hm?”

“onedoor are so funny. look,” he shows you his phone screen. on it is a meme of him, edited to look like a pepper.

you nod, exhaling slightly. “mm. very funny.”

he chuckles to himself and settles back into his chair, no doubt typing out a reply. he’s been like this the whole day. first at the movies, now at this restaurant. always ignoring you.

when did this happen?

so many years ago, he had looked at you like you hung the stars in the sky. when you had told him he should go for his dream of becoming an idol, he’d thanked you for believing in him.

where had that gotten you now?

“today was nice,” riwoo hums as the two of you approach your home. the neighborhood that riwoo grew up in as well. you remember running back from school with him, laughing as you raced down the street, shouts of who would get a sweet treat first echoing in your mind.

“yeah,” you say, but your chest feels hollow.

riwoo stops in front of your walkway, and you stop too. he stares at your face for a moment, dark eyes studying your features, before his gaze dips down to your lips. he steps closer, hands coming up to cup your cheeks, leaning in, coming closer and closer and closer-

“riwoo!” you snap, pushing him away, stumbling back. your chest is heaving, your heartbeat is pounding in your ears, and you’re sure you’re wearing a matching look of bewilderment as the one on riwoo’s face.

“what- y/n?” he sputters, eyes wide.

“was that- were you trying to kiss me!?”

“no- yes- i just- at the end of the first date, don’t people usually,-”

“god,” you groan, pinching the bridge of your nose. “this isn’t a stupid movie, riwoo.”

“i’m trying to make this a good date for you!”

“you’re trying?” you scoff. “listen. when i confessed to you, did you accept my feelings just so you wouldn’t hurt my feelings?”

he’s silent. and that’s all the confirmation that you need.

“you’ve changed, riwoo. if you don’t like me,” you begin, crossing your arms over your chest, “you could have at least been honest with me.”

riwoo shakes his head, eyes wide. “no, y/n, that’s not true. i do like you!”

“then why didn’t you treat me like you do?”

“i…”

“and i thought… oh, forget it,” you sigh. “we’re done.”

“what?”

“we’re done.”

⋆.˚ ☾⭒.˚ want to check out the planetarium's other exhibits?