creek 🧡

You sighed deeply, unable to form words as his body shook in your arms. You held him tightly, one hand cradling his head as he buried his head in your neck. You stayed still, trying to be his anchor when his world was falling apart right in your arms. You could feel his tears slide down your chest from your neck, you rubbed his back in order to console him. After a while his sobs subsided but his hold on you remained tight, not too much to hurt but enough to remind you of their presence on your body, firm enough to know you won't disappear. He pulled away from you, his movements abrupt as if someone had just poured a bucket of ice water on him in the middle of the winter. He took a few steps back, hands grasping the door of his car. He looked at you.

"What are you doing here?" His eyes glassy as he questioned you, his gaze fell behind your figure to see if there's anyone else. You took a few deep breaths to calm yourself, ears ringing and eyes sensitive, "are you okay?" You saw his bottom lip quiver at your words, his shoulders slumping as if everything around him was weighing him down. "You should be inside, enjoying your night-" "I should. But I couldn't stay when I saw you walk out." The grip he had on the car's door wavered and he let his hand fall. "Why?" He questioned, eyes hazy as steps drifting closer, his hand lifting up to your face, "you seemed to be enjoying yourself on the dance floor though..." he mumbled as he swiped his thumb against the corner of your mouth, hand trembling slightly, "what do you mean?" Your breath shuddered, one hand clasping around his jacket.

"Your lipstick smudged a little," his gaze locked into your lips, "there, all good." You exhaled the breath you were holding when he stepped back, his thumb stained with the lipstick he removed from the corner of your mouth. He turned towards the car and you grabbed his shoulder to hold him back, "Jay, it isn't what it looked like." He faced you, tongue poking inside of his cheek as he scoffed softly, "doesn't matter to me, it's your life anyway," he opened the door and you stepped forward, the hand grabbing his shoulder moving up to rest softly against his face, "don't shut off, you always do this when you're stressed," your thumb brushed against his cheek, wiping the tears that had fell, "and it hurts to watch you lock everything inside you like you're alone in this. Lean on me, talk to me, just don't shut yourself out."

He observed you for a while, unable to find any words that would contradict yours. His eyes fell upon the people coming out of Ava's house and he held your hand, tugging you towards the passenger's seat and quickly running back towards the driver's seat, "I don't want people to misunderstand us, let's talk somewhere else." You turned around in your seat to look at people leaving the party, "you're right..." he looked at you before watching the people through his rearview mirror, "yeah." He started driving, and you couldn't tell where exactly he was trying to take you. He pulled up in an empty parking lot, got out and opened your door for you. He locked the car door and made his way towards the curb and sat on it, hands in his head as he took deep breaths to calm himself.

You slowly made your way towards him, giving him time to calm himself, you sat down beside him, not too far, nor too close. You removed your heels, feet aching with all the running, you put them beside you, hands instinctively holding your ankle to massage it a bit as you waited for Jay to say something. "Are they hurting that bad?" Your eyes found his face but his hands were focused on your leg, you stopped your movements, folding your arms on your knees, "tell me what happened." His eyes finally met yours and he sighed, "we had a fight, and I walked out." You put your head on your knees as you nodded at his words, "I don't like big parties, I'm allergic to chocolate, she knew about this, I wrote those things in the letters I sent back to her and she's trying to make me the crazy one for not appreciating her efforts."

"Jay," you started even though you had no idea what to say. "I don't get it anymore," he sighed as he run his hand through his hair, "those letters mean the world to me, gave me the strength when I almost gave up, they talked about me, not the popular guitarist of HYPHENIX, those letters understood my silences and that's why I fell, that's why I thought I could have something real with Ava." You watch him unravel in front of you and you swallow back the burning feeling igniting in your stomach at his words, "maybe she never expected you to hold those letters so dearly, Jay." He looked at his eyes darkening as the possibility of your words being true settled inside him, "how could I not hold those letters close? They were the foundation of our relationship, the Ava who wrote those letters saw through me when everyone else just expected me to be perfect."

You smiled softly looking down at your hands at his words, "maybe you're trying to hold onto a version of her which only existed in those letters, sometimes people portray a version of themselves which they can't live up to, which leads to disappointment and heartbreak." He nodded at your words feeling confused yet understood, "maybe I am but is that my fault? For believing in it?" You shook your head at its words, laughing slightly, "It's not your fault for believing, its hers for not living up to it, sometimes it's easier to pretend especially if the words are wrapped in kind and comforting words inside an envelope."

"But her kind and comforting words were the exact reason why I fell for her, but now when I try to connect with her, she diverts the topic like it isn't a big deal. For her spotlight is everything, she always gushes about it, but when she wrote me those letters, she never once mentioned about my popularity, her letters rather focused on my musicality," you nodded your head as if you don't remember every single thing you wrote on those letters, like it doesn't hurt to watch him going through so much pain when all you wanted was for him to be happy, "maybe she doesn't know you the way you thought she would. Maybe she wasn't as serious about those letters as you were."

He turned his body towards you fully, eyes narrowing deep in thought, "no one can notice things that deep if they aren't serious about it," you play with the bracelet in your hand nervously, "how am I supposed to find a solution to this?" He sighed as he buried his head on his hands, you contemplated to reach out to him but you did it anyway, your hand slide up to run your finger through his hair, he didn't stop you, "don't force yourself to be somewhere you don't belong, if you feel she's not the person you fell in love with then it's better to break things up." He lifted his head enough to look at you, "It's not that easy," you let your hand fall on your lap, sighing deeply you muttered something which always lingered at the back of your mind, "Jay, don’t build your entire world around someone who can’t hold it for you."

Your eyes fell upon the stars that shone brightly above you, and his eyes were focused on you as those words left his mouth, "I think I might confront her about this whole situation, I really don't like how things are going in between us, we always fight and pretend in front of others that everything is fine. I don't like it." Your mind drifted far off as you watched the night sky, feeling exhausted at the events that unfolded today. You thought Ava would take notice of basic things and at least pretend to care for Jay, but it was clear that all she wanted was popularity rather than a companion. You blame yourself for supporting her reckless choices cause now you're doubting every single thing you did that led you to this moment.

Your lips twitched in discomfort, you knew watching Ava in Jay's arms would be hard but watching him break down in front of you because of her was harder. You wanted to tell him he deserved the kind of love he hoped he'd get from Ava, that it's not wrong to fall for someone and be disappointed when their actions wouldn't match their words. But how would they match when both of you were two different people? You cursed internally, taking a deep breath, if only she never lied, if only you never supported her. God you hated her so much for complicating things. "Jay," his name left your mouth like a confession, he hummed, eyes still trained on your face, "I don't like your girlfriend."

Sunghoon checked the time on his phone, squinting slightly as the sun was up, he knocked on the door, stepped a few steps back and waited, "oh! You're here!" He heard the person at the door say, leaning his weight on one of his legs, eyes glued to his phone as he scrolled to instagram. He barely hummed in response, finally looking up, "Where are the gifts?" Ava's smile dropped at his dull tone, "well good morning to you too," she said, rolling her eyes and stepping aside to make way for him. Sunghoon wordlessly put his phone inside his jeans pocket, entering the same house he was in yesterday night, he looked at the surroundings. The house was yet to be cleaned fully, "I'll call some cleaners to help you with the cleaning-" his words were cut off when Ava grabbed his arms, "no, I've got this, though thank you for offering your help, you're such a gentleman Hoon."

Sunghoon gulped, removing her hands from his arm, "it's Sunghoon for you." Ava frowned at his words, pout forming on her face as she glared at him, "but you let her call you Hoon though." He sighed, looking anywhere but her face, "she is allowed to call me that. I allowed her to call me that. I don't recall asking you to call me Hoon." She stepped forward, closing the distance between them, and Sunghoon stepped back, "you should be close to me not her, I'm your best friend's girlfriend!" He exhaled deeply, already regretting coming to her house, "exactly, my best friend's girlfriend, and your association with Jay doesn't define if you'll get close to me or not, it's actually based on how you are as a person."

Ava scoffed, flicking her hair back as if she couldn't grasp the concept, "she's not even that fun, doesn't do parties, isn't popular, has nothing special about her, she's not interesting....I don't know why you pay so much attention to her!" Sunghoon looked at her, boredom laced on his face but his eyes showed the quiet furry he felt within, "well at least she doesn't back-bitch about her best friend! Maybe we like her better because she's a better person than you'll ever be Avalyn." She flinched at his harsh tone, footsteps retreating, "Sunghoon....don't get close to her please." He scoffed at her, eyes trained on the main door then towards the huge cardboard box placed in the corner labelled 'Jay's gift', "you greedy woman, you're dating my best friend yet you're trying to continue to hit on me?"

He took a few steps towards her, and she backed off, suddenly trembling under his intense gaze, "isn't he enough for you? I thought you stopped being a fucking whore and finally came to your senses, guess I was wrong, huh?" She fell down on the chair behind her, eyes shut closed as Sunghoon's words rang in her ears, "you kept on harassing me to sleep with you, even after I clearly declined, then suddenly my best friend introduced you as his girlfriend to me, you think I'm stupid?" Her lips trembled as she looked up at him, eyes glossy but he continued, "and I know your games Ava, you think I believed you when you said you wrote those letters for Jay? I don't think your pea-sized brain could even comprehend a single sentence written on it. I'm entertaining you just because I care too much about Jay and his feelings to hurt him bluntly by the truth."

"Sunghoon, please don't tell him, I beg you. I really love Jay, I'll take care of him well..." His hand slammed against the wall near him, "you're dating him for quite some time and yet you don't know what things he likes and dislikes and you're telling me you'll take care of him?" Tears fell from her eyes, hands shaking at the possibility of her truth being exposed, "Sunghoon, I'll be a good girlfriend, I'll keep him happy, please I beg you." He just looked at her, walking towards the gift box and picking it up in his arms, "you still try to hit on me subtly and say you'll be a good girlfriend? You think I don't notice your advances? Don't notice how whenever me and your best friend are close you take her away from me? You can't even be a good friend Ava, how will you ever be a good girlfriend? You're just a selfish bitch who only thinks about herself."

Sunghoon turned around towards the door, taking a few long strides to reach his car, he put the gift box in the backseat and shut the door of his car. He opened the door of the driver's seat when Ava grabbed his hand, and turned to face her, "I can ruin your friendship if I want, you know?" She spoke through gritted teeth, hands now clenched in fist by her side, "you think Jay would be by your side if I tell him you tried to take advantage of me?"

Sunghoon blinked at her once, twice, then laughed loud and full, straight from his chest as he threw his head back. He grabbed the hood of his car to keep his balance. He wiped the tears that escaped his eyes as he calmed himself, "I wanted to say something hurtful but your words just made me realize how pitiful you are," Ava frowned at his words, "maybe if you weren’t so selfish and actually knew how to keep real friends, you wouldn't be so quick to throw out threats like this. But go ahead and see if he believes that over someone who has known him better than you ever will." He turned around, sliding into his driver's seat and driving off without giving her a single chance to speak.

Sunghoon parked his car in Jay's parking place, taking notice of Jay's car being parked in its usual spot. He picked up the gift box and made his way towards the main door. He kicked his door, flinching slightly as the door was unlocked so it slammed against the wall. The sound woke Jay up from where he was curled up on his couch in the living room, "what the fuck is up with you?" Jay mumbled although he wanted to lecture his friend about guest etiquette. "Ah close the door for me yeah? As you can see my lord, my hands are full." Sunghoon took off his shoes and invited himself into his best friend's house, keeping his gift box on the coffee table and jumping to sit on the couch.

"Since you weren't replying to your girl, she asked me to pick up your gifts from her house," Sunghoon grumbled reminiscing about the texts after texts he got from Ava which forced him to go and get Jay's gift. Jay just shrugged, still half asleep, rubbing his eyes as he approached Sunghoon, "did you atleast eat something?" Jay nodded at his friend's words, "yeah, I woke up, got fresh, made breakfast and ate it, washed the dishes, then slept again." Jay slumped beside Sunghoon, yawning. "Wow, I expected more sulking and less functioning adult energy from you."

Jay rolled his eyes, sitting up straight to open the box, "why did she call you? Could've waited for me to reply to her back..." Sunghoon looked at Jay, his mind drifting back to Ava's house, "she said her parent's will be home tonight, she needed to get rid of everything before they arrive," Jay nodded, remembering Ava telling him about her parents being very strict about everything. He remembered her telling him that you are her only friend whom her parents trust. "I'll get going, I am having some issues with my keyboard, I'll have it checked." Jay bid him goodbye and made his way back inside the house to open up the gift box.

He took off the gifts inside the box one by one, placing them neatly on the ground or on the coffee table as he emptied the box and folded it to throw it in the trash bin at the back of his house. He folded the cardboard box and made his way towards his backyard, he placed the box near the trash bin and started making his way back towards the house. His footsteps halted when he saw an envelope fallen near the backdoor of his house. He crouched down to pick it up, turning it around to inspect it carefully, 'Dear, Jay.' it read.

His eyebrow furrowed while looking at the envelope, a sense of familiarity growing within his heart as he read the label of the envelope. The handwriting, a huge smile etched upon his face at the familiar scribble of words, though in the letters he received the writer used to call his name a bit differently, he found himself feeling relieved. He made his way inside his room, rummaging through his closet to take out the box where he kept all the letters together. He took out one random letter to compare the handwriting, praying continuously for it to be the same. It had been a while since he saw the handwriting and he laughed at himself for being so excited over a trivial thing.

He grabbed his phone, when he found the handwriting matched, grinning happily even before opening the envelope to see what's inside. After a few rings Ava picked up the phone, her voice shaky as he finally called her back after being ignored for a whole night, "Jay, I'm sorry for yesterday baby, please don't be mad at me, I love you so much." He smiled at her, eyes focused upon the envelope on his hand, "It's okay Ava, I love you too, I just got your gift, thank you so much, baby. You made me so happy you have no idea." She laughed at his excited tone, breathing in relief that Sunghoon didn't share anything with him about what happened at her house, "you loved your gift?" She asked, her voice relaxed now, "yes I did."

"Thank god, Jay. I was stressed if you'd love it or not, I mean it took me days to find that limited edition watch, I'm so glad you loved it. Don't forget to wear it when you come to meet me, okay?" Jay's smile flattered as he focused on Ava's words then back at the envelope in his hand, a watch? His brows twitching in confusion, "did you attach anything else with your gift Ava?" He questioned, inspecting the envelope as if it would answer his questions, "umm just a bow." Jay hummed, his heartbeat frantic, "okay baby, I'll meet you soon." "See you." He hung up the phone, scoffing at himself as he laid back on his bed, the letters and envelope still spread near his legs. He picked up the envelope, sighing as he looked at it.

He dialed Ava's number again, mind swirling with thoughts waiting for her to pick up, "Jay? Did you forget something?" He sighed, putting the phone on speaker and keeping the letters back inside the box, "umm," he wondered, an idea popping in his head, "be ready in 2 hours, wanna spoil you a bit for giving me my birthday gift..." he could hear the excited squeal left leaving from her mouth, "why? You didn't have to, what do you want me to wear?" He chuckled, "wear anything, you look pretty anyway." He hung up the phone before she could speak further.

Jay was getting ready to pick Ava when his phone rang, the called ID showing 'Dikeu' in bold, he chuckled looking at the contact name for Jake, realizing Sunghoon must've changed it when he wasn't looking at his phone, "I'm free, wanna hangout?" Jay's eyebrows furrowed as he concentrated on the soft background music playing, "since when did your music taste change?" He could hear Jake chuckle as he turned the music off, "nah, the song is good, but I wasn't the one playing that..." Jay's heartbeat quickened, "who were you with?" Jake blinked once before your name left his lips.

"Oh what was she doing with you?" Jake pouted on the other end of the phone as if Jay could see him, "you aren't even interested in me anymore?" Jay groaned and a chuckle left Jake's mouth, "I dropped her home, our classes ended at the same time. Are you gonna tell me if you're free to hangout or not?" Jay rubbed his temple but replied nonetheless, "I've a date with Ava, I can't hangout today," Jake hummed, thinking on who to irritate next now that Jay was busy, "okay, I'll irritate someone else then!"

Jay leaned on his car as he waited for Ava to come out of her house, "Jay!" He lifted his head, eyes taking in her short satin dress that fit her body perfectly, she smiled at him, one hand stretched out for him to take, he held her hand, pulling her closer to give a quick kiss on her cheek, he guided her towards the passenger's seat and made himself comfortable on the driver's seat. The engine hummed beneath them as Jay scrolled through his playlist. When he found the song, he pressed play and Lee Hi’s Breathe poured softly into the car’s hush. He gave a quick glance towards Ava who didn't even utter a single word about his choice of the song.

"You wanna change the music or is this song fine?" She nodded at him, before he watched her lean towards the screen to play another, more upbeat song, "We are going on a date, I don't think dull songs like that match the vibe." Jay's eyebrows twitched but he didn't press further, just hummed in response and started driving off. After a while, "Jay," Ava called softly as she looked at him, he signaled her to continue, his eyes trained on the road, "I shouldn't have argued with you yesterday, I'm sorry, it was your birthday I should've been more patient," Jay smiled at her, one hand clutching the wheel while other was placed on his own lap.

Ava looked at his expressions before continuing, "It's just that I was so angry, I had to do everything alone since your friends decided to exclude me, even my own best friend didn't tell me about the surprise party. I felt so betrayed, I tried my best but it all crumpled down when I accidentally ordered the wrong cake, I mean, people can make mistakes right? But still, I'm sorry for making you feel like you don't matter to me..." she trailed off realizing Jay had barely acknowledged the words that slipped her lips, "didn't you say that it was the bakery who made the mistake?" Her breath hitched as she clasped both her hands together on her lap, "Isn't that the same thing?" Jay didn't question her further.

He stopped his car near a high end restaurant, handing over his car keys to the valet, he slid his hand on Ava's waist to pull her close. The restaurant was beautiful, with high ceilings and open plan structure so one could enjoy the view of nature around it. Ava gasped, thrilled to be at such a place, she turned around, giving Jay a little kiss before she dragged him towards a spot she wanted to sit. He pulled a chair for her, then made himself comfortable. The waiter handed both of them the menu card and left, but as soon as Ava was about to discuss what she wanted to eat, he stopped her, his smile sickeningly sweet as he looked at her.

"I'll order for you," he said, leaning a bit towards the table, "I remember you writing about your favorite dishes in the letters, I want to be a good boyfriend and prove you that I remember all those things you wrote," Jay held her hand, softly rubbing circles at the back of her hand. She laughed awkwardly, nodding her head with way too much enthusiasm, he looked at her for a second too long, before dropping his gaze back on the menu, "since it's still day time, let's order tea first," He signaled the waiter to take the order, "two chamomile-lavender tea please," the waiter nodded asking if they needed anything else and Jay informed him he'll update further.

"Chamomile-......lavender tea?" Jay grinned at Ava's expressions, "yeah? I never tried drinking that combination but now that you're with me I thought why not? If in case I don't find it pleasing I can just pass it to you since you're so crazy about it." Ava's lips twitched but she managed to mask it behind a polite smile, swallowing a lump from her throat, "I hope you'll like," she trailed off, looking at the view, "I feel so refreshed after drinking it." Jay hummed clearly amused by her ability to still try her best at blending in, "refreshing? Didn't you say the bitterness of this combo helps you stay awake when coffee doesn't do it for you?" She pulled her hand out of his grip and clenched her hands tightly on her lap, "yeah that too."

"Here's your tea," the waiter placed the drinks on the table and Jay looked at Ava expectantly, she smiled at his direction, placing a trembling hand on the cup and take a sip, "I thought you'd be more enthusiastic about drinking it," Ava grimaced at the taste, but masked it with a semi-awkward smile which didn't even reach its full potential, "I am, just feeling tired from yesterday's party." He nodded solemnly at her words and urged her to continue drinking, smiling as he took a sip of the tea himself, "Ah it's too bitter for me," he pushed the tea towards Ava, "please finish this for me too baby." He could see color drain from her face but still acted oblivious, humming a song or complimenting the restaurant's architecture.

Ava finished both the tea, he grinned at her, kissing her hand and complimenting her, "I need to go to the bathroom, one second." He watched as Ava rushed off to the bathroom, leaning back on the chair and sighing. Ava came back, a bit breathless, Jay ordered the food and she sighed in relief that he ordered something she could eat without feeling like throwing up. "You okay baby? You don't look good," Ava sat on her chair, dabbing the sweat off her forehead with tissues, "Yeah, I don't know, I'm feeling suffocated suddenly," Jay watched her, nodding his head, "okay, let's get out of here then." He paid the bill and made their way towards the next destination he had in his mind.

"Baby what's this?" Ava wondered when he stopped the car in an unknown lane, getting out of the car and helping her with it. "You don't recognize? Didn't you say you loved this place?" Ava's heartbeat quickened, eyes wondering on numbers of small shops and stores lining up one after the other. Her eyes took in the surroundings, "haha, yeah. I remember this, it's just that I'm feeling so tired that my brain isn't working." Jay hummed, holding her hand and pulling her inside a bookstore hidden in between two large clothing shops. "It's okay, you said the smell of books calms you down, that's the reason I brought you here." She nodded wordlessly at his words, rubbing her nose slightly at the lavender candle lit at the entrance of the bookstore.

Ava panicked, realizing that Jay planned this whole date based on the letters written by his secret admirer. She could still feel her throat itching even after forcing herself to throw up the tea in the bathroom and if this thing continued she wasn't sure if she would be able to cover up. Jay made his way towards her, hand holding a couple of books which Ava didn't recognize and another holding a lavender scented candle. "Ava? You good baby?" Her nose itched, turning a bit red as she looked at Jay, clearly anxious, "Jay, it's getting late, shall we go back? I'm not feeling good at all, baby." He sighed, placing the candle back on the shelves and paying for the books before agreeing with Ava. She sighed in relief as they made their way back towards the car.

"Baby?" Ava hummed as she looked at the passing cars, "wanna hangout at my place before I drop you off at yours? We don't have to do anything, just cuddle, maybe drink some alcohol if you're up to it? Hm?" He glanced at her, before concentrating back on the road, "okay, sounds good to me." Jay smiled, extending his hand to give her hand a gentle squeeze. When they reached his house, he helped her remove her heels, taking her hand and guiding her towards his bedroom. Ava laughed, nudging Jay a little bit, "Wait here, I'll bring the drink." Ava sat on the bed, looking at his room, "open the sliding door, we'll drink outside, you'd love it."

Ava nodded, opening the door and helping Jay with the drinks. They were in the middle of drinking when the weather became gloomy, dark clouds spreading all throughout the sky, few drops of rain fell upon their clothes and Jay urged Ava to get inside. He bought the drinks and glasses inside, neatly putting the glasses on the sink. Till the time he returned from the kitchen, heavy downpour had blurred the word around them, and in the distance, thunder rolled low and slow. Ava flinched slightly, her hands clutching the comforter, "you okay baby?" She looked up, smiling slightly and he made his way towards her, eyes trained on the rain.

"Yes, just startled." Jay squinted his eyes at her, tilting his head, "thought you said you loved storms, why are you startled?" Ava shrugged, flinching again when lightning struck again, "why would I say that, I hate storms!" He crouched in front of her, his gaze hardening, "isn't that crazy? You said you loved the storms as it made you feel like you aren't the only one who is unraveling. I remember it clearly, you wrote about it, how they make you feel at peace." Ava froze, her eyes widening and body trembling under his fierce gaze, "I was just in a different headspace at that time."

"You always say that Ava, I was in a different headspace, I was feeling poetic, I didn't think you'd think so deeply of it, my opinion changed. It never ends!" Ava stood up, walking towards the bedroom door to create some distance in between them, "I was just trying my best to impress you because I love you, Jay. You're comparing me to a version of myself I curated just for you." Jay followed her, breath ragging, "are you sure that's the truth?" Ava paused, hesitating to say another word, "what do you mean?" she mumbled, leaning against the door.

"I just think, Avalyn," He taunted, voice low and dangerously calm, "I think you saw someone laying their heart bare, you saw how everyone noticed, you saw something genuine, which you could never be, and instead of respecting it like everyone else, you dressed yourself in someone else's devotion and had the audacity to call it yours!" He took a step closer, eyes burning through her, he slammed one hand on the door beside her head, "you saw someone bleed their love on the paper and got greedy. You never wanted love, just attention, and you didn’t care whose heart you had to break just to get what you wanted."

Ava looked at him, tears welling up in her eyes, she pushed Jay away, scoffing in disbelief, "you really think I would do something like that? After everything I've done for you? God! I knew this would happen, you just want a reason to get rid of me now that you're bored." Jay's jaw clenched at her words, "I'm sorry I didn't live up to your fantasy Jay, sorry that I couldn't talk in ink and metaphors for you." Jay pushed her against the door, eyes narrowing at her words, "it isn't about ink and metaphors, it's about the meaning behind them, you claimed those thoughts were yours, you silenced someone Avalyn, you banned someone from loving me the only way they knew how." Ava's jaw clenched but she kept quiet, unable to say anything in her defense with the way Jay was looking at her.

"Here's what you're going to do now Avalyn," he started, stepping back and glaring at her, his tone calm and calculated, "in few weeks it's your birthday, you're going to tell everyone there that you lied about those letters, and I'll tell them I don't hold any grudge against you so that we can both part ways without creating anymore mess." Ava's eyes widened at his words, all the things she did to gain the popularity wilting away in front of her eyes, "please Jay? Can't you give me a chance? We were doing fine, we can continue to do that. If the person who sent those letters to you loved you enough she would have exposed me long ago, but she didn't right? Please Jay, I beg you." Jay rubbed his temple, groaning as he threw his head back in frustration, "no, just do as I say, in a few weeks, at your birthday party, tell everyone the truth, and we're done for!"

You heave a sigh as you stand, leaning on one of the pillars of your university campus, looking at the downpour. It had been raining since yesterday night and hasn't stopped since then. Most of the students had either left the campus or found home in some corner or the university where they could wait till the downpour was light enough to travel through. You heard someone call your name, you turned slightly, smiling when you found Heeseung wave at you. "Done with your class?" You questioned, your eyes falling on your mobile screen to see if Ava responded to your texts or calls. "Yes, I wanted to go home but the rain is so heavy, you can't even see what's in front of you." You offered him a quick nod, eyes trained on the rainfall, but your mind drifted towards something else. Ava didn't attend any classes today, which was completely normal but what irked you most was her skipping the cheer practice. Her friends had stopped you to ask about her whereabouts and the only thing you could do was shrug in response.

"Yah, both of you," you jumped a little at the sudden voice, Heeseung chuckled before turning around to face his friend, Jake, "are you just going to stand there and watch the rain? Might as well come inside the music room and chill." You and Heeseung made your way inside the music room, you walked towards the window, dragging a chair with you, and sat on it, sighing. "I don't think the rain is going to stop anytime soon...." Sunghoon's voice trailed off as he spotted your figure sitting near the window as he walked inside the music room while talking to Jay. "Looks like someone loves rain way too much," Sunghoon smirked as he dragged a desk near your chair and sat on it, startling you in the process.

Jay quietly made his way towards the couch, slumping against it as he watched you interact with Sunghoon, a weird knot forming in his chest as he remembered you and Sunghoon sharing a kiss right in the middle of his birthday party. He kept wondering why he would feel so jealous in the first place, it wasn't like any of you were betraying him but he couldn't help but feel weirdly hurt whenever he saw both of you together. He was sure that if he kept on glaring at both of you with the same intensity then he'd actually be able to punch a hole in Sunghoon's face.

"Jay, did you bring your car?" Heeseung's voice brought him back to reality, his eyes looked around the room to see everyone already looking at him, he blinked a few times before nodding his head yes. Heeseung eyed him skeptically before nodding his head at his words, "so, Sunghoon, Jake and I slept over my house yesterday so we just took my car to come here," Jay nodded, hands playing with the ripped part of his jeans, "yeah so I need to take these two back to my house to retrieve their cars which is in complete opposite direction to where she lives," he pointed his index finger at you and you glared at him, "so will you drop her off?" Jay's eyes met yours, you smiled a little and he nodded, "ofcourse, I would. It shouldn't be a question."

And now you were sitting inside Jay's car as he pulled out of the university's campus. You leaned your head against the window, trying your best to not steal glances at Jay. You noticed he looked tired than usual, like he didn't get any sleep last night and with the way Ava had completely shut you out today, something must've happened between them again. You remember Jake texting you yesterday to ask if you were free to hangout, you had planned on deep cleaning your apartment that day so you declined and he told you Jay was busy taking Ava on date, you figured they mended the things between them but guess you were perhaps wrong.

You were busy with your thoughts when Jay's phone rang, he pulled his car aside and stopped, picking up the phone. You looked at him briefly as he was busy talking with someone on the phone. After sometime he hung up, giving you a side smile, "give me a few minutes, I just need to send this location to my cousin." You nodded, taking out your own phone to scroll through instagram when a loud thunder roared through the sky, your eyes widened at the sound, "damn, that was loud," you couldn't help but say as you leaned towards the windshield to look at the sky. Jay looked at you, surprised as you finally spoke something. "Scared of storms?" He questioned, giving you a quick glance before resuming his task, "no, I'm not. Just amazed by the intensity."

He locked his phone screen, throwing it somewhere in the compartment, the sound of thunder immediately sent his brain in a flashback mode, his mind drifting to the events that unfolded the previous night. He then turned his eyes on your figure which was still leaning towards the windshield, hands placed on the glass to wipe the condensation and see the view clearly. "You seem quite fascinated by the view," he couldn't help but chuckle at your wonder-like expressions, "oh I love storms, it brings me peace! I could sit and observe it all day!" Jay's smile flattered at your words, chest tightening at the familiarity of the words. He quickly swallowed the tension building in his throat and started driving towards your apartment.

You reached your apartment building, the thunder still loud above you, even the trees hazardly swayed left and right, and you could barely manage to stand still without struggling a bit against the wind. You knocked on the window of Jay's car and waited for him to roll it down. "I think it will be better if you wait for the weather to calm down a bit," you suggested. He shook his head, turning around his seat to look at the scenario out of the parking space of your building, "I think I can manage-" His words got cut off when a large tree branch flew past both of your line of vision, ripped from the tree like it was nothing, "yeah I think I can wait for a little bit." You smiled at him, stepping back and moving towards the elevator to press your floor button. Jay joined you inside the elevator and you sighed waiting for it to reach your floor.

"Would you like something to drink? Tea? Hot Coffee?" Jay paused to think, fingers tapping against his chin in deep thought as he sat on your couch, "what type of tea do you have?" You smiled bashfully, leaning against your kitchen door, "Mr. Park, what type would you like to drink? Your wish would be my command." He laughed at your words, "do you have chamomile tea?" You nodded your head in enthusiasm which Jay couldn't help but reciprocate, "I have all the types of tea, I sort of have a weird fixation on it." He smirked, getting up from the couch and following you inside the kitchen. He leaned against the kitchen counter, humming softly as he watched you gather the ingredients to make the tea. "Wow, you indeed have a crazy collection of tea."

You grinned back at him, opening the cabinet wider for him to get a better look, he stepped closer, hands raking his fingers through the jars. "Damn, you could open a tea stall," you solemnly nodded as if actually considering his suggestion. "What tea is your favorite? Taking a look at the jars I would say..." he trailed off, looking through the jars, "black, chamomile and lavender tea are your top picks." You gave him a thumbs up, taking the chamomile tea's jar off the cabinet and shutting it close. He made himself comfortable on the chair against the kitchen counter as he watched you make the tea, comfortable silence settled between them, the only sound being gentle clatter of cups, and soft bubbling of the water.

You poured the tea into two cups and slide one in front of him as you sat beside him, he smelled the tea, "oh it smells calming..." you grinned, taking a whiff of the tea yourself, "the weather is so beautiful, and the chamomile tea just made it more perfect, but do you want honey added into yours? I like to drink it bitter, I have to submit an essay tomorrow so I need to stay awake..." you mindlessly trailed off searching the cabinets for the bottle of honey, not realizing the weight of your words, mind temporarily forgetting about you mentioning about it in one of the letters. Jay felt a sense of deja vu take over inside him yet again but before he could say a single word to you the doorbell rang.

You put the bottle of honey in front of him, wondering who would visit you at this time. You made your way towards the living room and looked at the window at the end of the hallway, the weather had calmed down significantly. You opened the door, swinging it open to see Ava standing in front of you, she huffed a breath, "I've been ringing your doorbell since forever," she rolled her eyes, stepping forward and pushing your figure aside slightly since you didn't move an inch. "I've been trying to reach you since last night and you ignored me, and now you randomly showed up at my apartment without replying or calling me back?" You complained as you followed her figure back into your living room.

"Do I need to always inform you about my whereabouts or something?" She hissed, sitting on your couch rather harshly, "my mood is so off, my life is about to turn upside down and you only care about me ghosting you?" You crossed your arms over your chest, leaning your weight on one of your legs, "well yes since I texted and called you to ask about those exact things Ava!" You saw Jay slowly making his way towards the living room from your peripheral vision, he stood just near the kitchen door, Ava's back against his. "You should have tried harder to reach me, you could've skipped classes and visited me home, I even missed my cheer practice for God's sake!" You nervously glanced at Jay before speaking, "you know I had an important exam today, I told you about it ages ago, and it was raining so heavily how do you expect me to visit you?"

"I don't care, you should be beside me when I shut you out, shouldn't you as my best friend seek me when I pull away from everyone?" She complained, hands pulling at her head. "Well she tried reaching out to you through texts and calls, what more do you want her to do when there's a storm going on and she doesn't have any vehicle?" Ava sat up straight, eyes going wide as Jay stood beside you, "Jay? What are you doing here?" Her gaze travelled in between you and him, wondering how he had time to be at your apartment when he didn't reply to even a single text from her. "That shouldn't be your main focus, is this how you always talk with her?" You grabbed his arm when he stepped closer to her, his jaw clenched, Ava's gaze landed on your hand on Jay's arm, you released your hold when he stopped his steps.

"Answer me!" You flinched at the tone of his voice, Ava swallowed, clenching her fist tightly, "no, I'm not thinking straight and wanted to seek solace in my best friend especially after what happened last night!" Jay scoffed, pinching his nose in annoyance, "this isn't how you seek solace in someone..." Ava slammed her head against the back of the couch, clearly not prepared for Jay's interrogation, "I'm sorry, what are you doing here anyway?" Jay shrugged, turning towards you, "I think I should get going, the weather is calm enough for me to drive back, thanks for the tea." You nodded at him, bidding him goodbye and closing the door behind him, confusion etched upon your face.

"How come my boyfriend was in your apartment?" You turned around to look at Ava who was already on her feet, making her way towards the kitchen. You followed her to find her standing near the kitchen counter, taking a sip of tea from your cup. She instantly spit it out in the sink, throwing the rest of the tea along with it. "I didn't even take a single sip!" You groaned as you approached her, "since when do you drink this shit?" You squint your eyes at her words, her face contouring into that of a grimace, "what do you mean since when? You should know I prefer drinking tea to calm myself." Ava stopped midway, your words dawning heavy on her shoulder as she remembered what Jay said about drinking chamomile-lavender tea. She shook her head, making her way back into your living room.

"What happened to you anyway? Are you guys fighting or something? He didn't even say goodbye to you," you sat beside her, keeping your head on the back of the couch. "He found out I didn't write those letters..." she trailed off, her fingernails digging at her skin, "what?" You straightened up, eyes going wide at the realization, "how?" She scoffed, slumping against the armrest, "I didn't even get to bask in my popularity that much, how am I supposed to explain this to my other friends and cheer team?" You rubbed your temple, feeling anxious, "is that what you're worried about?" Ava rolled her eyes, "he wants me to confess about lying in my birthday party."

"What?" Ava sat up, looking straight into your eyes, no guilt about what she did, "he said something about confessing that I lied and then he wouldn't make a big deal out of this and then we can part ways," you looked at her for a moment, taking in all the things she dumped into you in a span of 5 minutes, "I warned you about this, but you didn't listen, just apologize to him, tell him you want to silently part ways, maybe if you look sorry enough he'll forgive you." She threw her hand in the air, "no he won't make this any easier, he was quite angry." You sighed, "well of course he is, you literally lied your way into the relationship, he must be feeling so betrayed and hurt, I told you not to do that, why do you have to be so selfish Ava?"

"Oh you two seem to be so deeply connected with each other to always defend each other's feelings in front of me, who's best friend are you? Try to think of something!" You shook your head at her, completely declining to be the one to help her after what she did, "you are going to do what he said, that's the only way you can get him to forgive you." She groaned, slamming her head against the armrest in frustration, "you aren't helping me with this," she got up, gathering all of her belongings and slamming the door shut behind her when she left. You thought about reaching out to Jay, your fingers hovering just long enough to feel the weight of the choice. But doubt slipped in quietly. What if he thought less of you too? What if saying it out loud only pushed him further away? You didn’t have the answers and maybe, deep down, you weren’t sure you were ready to hear them from him.

You were sitting on the bleachers, the court empty aside from a few students lounging around the area, "why do I always find you as if you're in mid-philosophical mental breakdown?" You tilt your head upward, removing the headphones from your ears, "I don't know Heeseung, you tell me." You saw him playfully roll his eyes as he sat down next to you. Jay, Jake and Sunghoon join right after with Jay sitting on your other side, Jake and Sunghoon sitting in front of you. "Why are you guys here anyway? Don't you guys have practice or something?" Jake gasped, an offended expression forming on his face, "why do you hate us so much? Are we not cool enough to hang out with you?"

"Stop with that 'too cool for you to hangout with' joke, you're stretching it so far up it's gonna explode," Sunghoon laughed at your expressions, "I did not think of you as a violent type pretty." You opened your mouth to retaliate but nothing came out, you just looked at him, trying to ease the rapid beating of your heart after hearing him call you pretty. After the kiss, Sunghoon didn't pressure you to explain anything to him, didn’t even ignore you but he stopped calling you pretty, your own name sounding so foreign when it left his mouth, you thought with time you'd get used to it but there he was, once again with that silly smirk of his, calling you pretty.

"Oh how blessed do we have to be to find HYPHENIX sitting here!" All of your head turned towards the voice, the captain of the cheer team, Gyuri smiled, behind her stood Ava along with a few other members of the cheer squad. "We were just leaving," Jake announced, already standing up, "why would you do that? Ava, does your boyfriend's friend hate us?" She pouted, eyes trained on Jake who just rolled his eyes in annoyance, a complete 180° from how he teased you a few minutes ago. You wondered if both of them had any history, Sunghoon didn't even glance at them after initially looking to see who called their name, Heeseung pretended to be busy on his phone. "It's not like that Gyuri," Ava mumbled looking down.

Gyuri scoffed, crossing her arms across her chest, "It's Ava's birthday next week, I'm pretty sure I'll meet all of you there, right? It's going to be so much fun, everyone's going to be there." Jay nodded, not really looking towards Ava or even trying to have any sort of interaction with her, Gyuri noticed, she turned her head towards Ava, "did you two fight or something, you guys were fine just a few weeks ago!" Ava smiled awkwardly, making her way towards Jay, sitting beside him and leaning against his arm, "it's lovers quarrel, nothing we can't work upon." Gyuri looked at her skeptically before shrugging off and turning around and leaving.

Other three boys exchanged a look, clearly sensing the tension between Jay and Ava, they looked at you and you just smiled, clutching your notebook hard in your hands, they didn't press further. "What are you guys up to?" Ava questioned, her eyes trailing towards a few students who were looking in her direction as she sat with you and the boys, "nothing, just hanging around," Jake shrugged taking a seat. Eventually Ava sat awkwardly beside Sunghoon, and right in front of Jay after realizing he didn't tell his friends about them. She watched as Jay refused to acknowledge her presence at all and Jake and Heeseung exchanged glances at each other from time to time.

You were somehow also ignoring her presence, focusing on the reels on your phone rather than starting a conversation and Ava thinks it's maybe because she rudely left your apartment a week back and you haven't reached out to her after that. "You were going to send me a video of the recipe you saved to make that tea, you haven't sent it to me yet." Jay spoke, nudging your shoulder with his and you gave him an apologetic smile before copying the link of the video and sending it to him. Ava's eyes watched you both like a hawk, eyes narrowing at the newfound closeness in between you two. She gulped, feeling as if the perfect world she tried so hard to build was crumbling down the more she tried to save it.

"Oh shit, I forgot I had a seminar to attend, I should get going," you hurriedly zipped your bag and checked the time, cursing under your breath and running off towards the hall where the seminar would take place. "Oh she dropped her notebook," Sunghoon leaned down the grab the notebook which fell down from your lap, dusting it off, he opened the first page to look, "Give it to me, I'll pass it to her," Sunghoon turned his head towards Ava, eyes sharp and unmoving as he passed your notebook towards Jay instead. Ava sighed, eyebrows twitching at everyone's distant behavior, sure they took less liking for her somehow, even Heeseung and Jake, just acknowledged her as their bandmate's girlfriend but somehow each of them had soften themselves for you and she didn't like how you were getting more attention than she could.

"You're sure everything is alright between you two?" Gyuri questioned Ava as they stood in the locker room changing their clothes after finishing practicing, Ava gulped not maintaining eye contact with her caption as she hurried to put her things inside the bag, "you know you're only in the cheer squad because of Jay right? Since you bought so much attention towards our team after your whole secret admirer agenda?" Ava nodded, zipping up her bag, Gyuri held her shoulder, forcing Ava to face her, "try to mend things in between you both, if you were good enough with your talent alone, you wouldn’t have to enter the team through popularity, I hope you remember all the times you got rejected by different people from the team okay? But now that you finally made it into the team, try to maintain your spot."

"Yes, we are doing fine, Gyuri, we just need a little bit of space, that's it. Everything will go back to normal." Gyuri gave her a skeptical looks, not buying her reasoning at all, "you used to write all those letters to him which made him turn from icy to soft, he looked so smitten by you initially, I don't know what you did, but try to handle it properly, don't be a disappointment, I already get yelled at by our coach for allowing you in the team with the amount of mistakes you do, but I let him drag me since I know you bring attention to the team, don't do anything stupid to further taint my name, Ava." Ava sighed, leaning her head on the locker after Gyuri left. There was so much pressure on her head, she didn't know how she would even handle that.

Ava left the locker room, her feet dragging towards the main gate of the university. Her steps halted as she saw you standing few feet apart from her, you gaze trained on your phone as you sat on the stairs by the entrance of the university's building. She contemplated reaching out to you, her texts and calls left unattended since weeks, you wouldn't entertain her now, but this wasn't the time to whine over things like that, she needed your help to get out of the mess she had made, just like how you always did. Ava took a deep breath, deciding that apologizing to you and asking for your help would be the best case scenario for now, she could always deal with your attitude problem after this mess is solved. She took a step towards you but stopped when she spot Jay walking out of the music room, guitar case hanging off his shoulder and eyes turning ever so soft as they landed on you.

"I didn't think you'd still be here, your classes ended early today," He said, dropping his guitar case gently beside him, his voice casual but his eyes said otherwise. You hummed, smirking at him, "oh so you keep a tab on my schedule now?" Jay shrugged, smiling too wide for someone just having a casual conversation with a friend, "I need to look after you." You squint your eyes at him, elbowing his stomach, "I don't need anyone to look after me," Jay groaned as if your little nudge to his stomach actually hurt, "I know you don't need to be looked after, but I want to." He scooted closer to you, elbows pressing together, knees touching, you didn't move away. "Why do you always do that?" Jay questioned after sometime, "do what?" He reached up, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear, thumb rubbing against your earlobe a little too long.

"You never properly hold eye contact with me." You blinked, caught off guard by his observation, Jay's gaze softened like he wanted to ask something more than that, you didn't notice the way Jay looked at you but Ava did. She stood there frozen, clutching her phone in her hand tightly, she noticed everything, the way Jay would always listen to your words attentively, how he had this soft smile on his face whenever he talked with you, how his eyes always found you despite being surrounded by a large crowd, Ava noticed everything. And as you packed your things and Jay snatched the bag from your hand and carried it on his shoulder instead, as you both walked off towards Jay's car blissfully unaware of Ava's presence, she realized, in that moment, that you weren't invisible anymore. And she hated it.

Your eyes were trained on the birthday invite sent by Ava on your phone. You both haven't talked with each other after she stormed out of your apartment, it wasn't the first time she did that, neither will it be the last time but you were done trying to save your friendship. You always apologize for things you didn't do just to protect your friendship but you couldn't let her do that repeatedly, you were done with her toxicity. But still your mind keeps on drifting towards how she'll manage to confess about her lying, if she'll be able to handle people throwing taunts at her. You didn't have to, but you felt bad for her. You looked at the following text she sent after sending the invite, 'I know we aren't on good terms but your presence would mean so much to me, especially for what I am going to do today, I will think of it as a last birthday gift from you.' You sighed, locking your phone and stood up to get ready for the party.

"Wow she really went all out for the party," Jake chuckled in amusement after he reached Ava's house, "I know right, I heard she invited more than half of the campus..." Heeseung trailed off, Sunghoon looked at Jay who had his jaw clenched as he looked at the scene in front of him, "you good bro?" Jay tore his eyes from the house and looked at Sunghoon, "It's weird, why would she invite so many people to a party where she's going to announce our breakup?" A loud gasp escaped Jake's mouth, "she's going to announce about your breakup?" Jay nodded looking at them, "she lied about those letters, they were never written by her."

"What? How did you even find that out?" Jay sighed watching his friends look at him with worried eyes, "I always felt disconnected from her, I started questioning her more about the letters but it would end up with us fighting and long story short, she confessed about her lies. I told her to tell everyone about her lies on her birthday when everyone will be present there and I will make sure no one will harass her over it and that we could part ways in peace after that." Heeseung nodded, still a bit shocked at how everything turned out, "if that's the case then it is indeed weird for her to go all out with the party."

"Let's just hope she isn't trying to pull any new stunts then," Sunghoon huffed looking at his friends, hands resting on his hips, "if she can steal someone else's identity for her greed, let's not think she is incapable of doing something mundane again." Rest of them nodded their heads, exchanging a look of wariness before making their way inside the house. Sunghoon stopped Jay from going away, one hand clutching his friend's shoulder, "Jay, I never got good vibes from Ava, don't let her get inside your head, be prepared for whatever okay? She's crazy enough. All you need is to look at me and I'll be there to help you." Jay smiled, nodding his head and assuring Sunghoon.

The party was in full swing, people were dancing around, some were already passed out on the couch, each corner of the house was crammed with people. The room smelled like sweat, alcohol and too many perfumes. Whenever you tried to move, your shoulders would brush against someone. The lights were dim but somehow harsh enough to make you squint. You had previously spotted Ava talking with her cheer squad, and called her aside to greet, give her the gift and go back into your apartment, but she stopped you, requesting you to wait since someone else called her name. Now you were standing beside the alcohol section, near the entrance of her house, waiting for an opportunity to find her alone and get done with it.

"Pretty," you didn't need to turn around to see who called you, his presence, his voice, the way you could feel his body heat on your back was enough for you to confirm who it was, "you're waiting for someone?" You nodded your head but didn't make any effort to change your position, eyes still trained on Ava who was now in the middle of celebrating her birthday. Jay stood beside her, his expressions hard as she cut her cake. She offered the piece of cake to Jay to which he just took it from her hand and fed her instead. The crowd cheered, their screams almost overpowering the music blasting through the speakers.

Then Ava signaled the DJ to pause the music, and the crowd quieted down, everyone gathered around Ava, who stood on the mini-stage along with Jay and some of her friends from the cheer team. Your heartbeat quickened but you felt a gentle squeeze on your shoulder, you looked up and Sunghoon gave you yet another squeeze of reassurance, you smiled at his gesture, a silent thank you, then you trained your eyes back on Ava, who was now looking at everyone with an anxious expression on her face as she announced she wanted to confess something to everyone. You swallowed, crossing your arms across your chest as you waited for her to continue. Jay stood beside her, eyes dark and intense but they softened slightly as he looked at you, your smile was enough to tell him you knew what was going to happen and he heaved a sigh, waiting for Ava to start speaking again.

"Thank you so much for attending my birthday and making it so much special for me," Ava smiled looking at everyone, "I am sure I won't be able to forget this birthday ever." Choruses of oohhs and aahhs spread all throughout the house, Ava shook her head, "I just want to confess something to you guys.....I've been holding it in for a while now." Everyone looked at each other, waiting for Ava to elaborate further, you watched as she looked back at Jay for a minute before her gaze turned back towards the crowd. You held your breath, anxious feelings creeping up on you as you waited for her to continue. "Everything is alright Ava?" Gyuri came forward, the rest of the crowd humming in agreement. She smiled at her, nodding her head, "I will be Gyuri." Sunghoon scoffed at her words as he leaned down towards you, "Oscar season came early huh?" You shivered as his breath hit your ears, a chuckle left his mouth watching her act.

"I feel like everyone deserves to know the truth about what's going on," you froze in your place when she stood beside Jay but her eyes locked in with yours. "The two people I trusted the most went behind my back," Ava's voice trembled as she looked at Jay, "he cheated on me," she exclaimed, pointing directly to you, "with her, my very own best friend." A ripple of gasp fluttered around the house, people glanced in your direction, whispering to each other low and biting. Tears welled up in your eyes, throat closing in, making it hard for you to defend yourself as you watched everyone look at you as if being in your vicinity made them impure.

"I trusted them, both of them but they intentionally chose to betray me like I was nothing." Your chest tightened as Ava continued her sob story of how you betrayed her, people around you started calling you names, whispers of you being a homewrecker, a whore, an attention seeking good for nothing slut, a nobody with a pretty best friend, a jealous bitch who couldn't watch her friend be happy. You shut your eyes, covering your ears with humiliation. "Avalyn!" Jay approached her, his tone dangerously even, "what the hell are you talking about?"

Sunghoon sighed as three of them made their way towards the stage where Ava and Jay were standing. Everyone's attention was fixed on the three band members who now stood at the foot of the stage as they watched the scene in front of them. Ava laughed bitterly, nose and cheeks red, and eyes glassy with unshed tears, "why are you acting innocent, I'm surely not the only one who noticed you pulling away from me, you didn't even sit next to me in cafeteria anymore, instead you were always around her, talking in whispers, about anything and everything, you think I wouldn't notice? You thought no one would believe the truth just because you're popular?"

"Oh I know you're not the one talking about popularity Ava!" All eyes turned towards Sunghoon who stepped up on the stage, eyes burning into Ava's, "you claimed to be the person who wrote those anonymous letters to Jay, you lied to everyone just so you could date Jay and get attention," everyone turned quiet, watching Sunghoon behave so rudely for the first time. Some of them turned towards you, trying to puzzle the pieces together. Jay stepped forward, grabbing Ava's arm to make her face him, "you lied to me, took advantage of someone else's words of love and used it for your selfish reasons and I pulled away from you when I caught your lie." Ava's eyes scanned everyone's face, lips trembling as she could feel everyone doubting her words, then her eyes fell upon you, her eyes darkening with anger, again.

"You're just deflecting because I caught you cheating!" She yanked her arm off his grasp, stepping back a little, "no! I'm clearing my name, if I was someone who treated relationships as casual, I would've dated countless girls and not waited for the right one!" The crowd started murmuring, words of agreement spread throughout as they realized the honesty Jay's words held, they never saw him entertain any girls before. Ava's breathing grows uneven when the room remains silent, no sympathy in their eyes, just observing, watching the drama unfold. "Are you done with your lies now? I told you we could part ways peacefully if you just confess about lying and come clean but you decided to drag me and your best friend through the mud just so you could have an upper hand."

Ava stepped closer to him, voice low but filled with venom, "you're really painting me as a villain because I claimed something that wasn't mine?" Jay stood there, his posture stiff and jaw clenched as Ava wasn't giving up, "you lied, Ava." She scoffed, tears clinging to her lashes, "but you believed me without a second thought Jay, and you believed me because you were desperate to be loved and I did just that, so how am I the villain?" You stepped back, unable to keep yourself together, the room felt too suffocating, you turned around towards the door trying to get out of the situation, to where? You didn't know, you just needed to get out of there. People watched as she spiraled more and more, concern spreading throughout the room, "and don't defend her like she needs to be saved," her voice lowered enough only Jay could hear, "she knew."

Slow smirk forming on her face, "She knew the whole truth but she chose to stay quiet." Jay froze, heart stopping at the cruel revelation, "you're lying..." but the look on Ava's face was enough for Jay to realize she wasn't lying this time. "She knew from the beginning, she watched me take the credit for those letters, watched you fall for them, and still chose to say nothing. So how are we different now?" Jay's eyes scan your figure amongst the crowd, like looking for you would give him some answers. Jay could barely hear a word coming from Ava's mouth, he felt his chest tightened, with disappointment? Betrayal? Or something else entirely? He wasn't sure.

Sunghoon leaned closer to Jay, informing him about you leaving the house. He pushed Jay down the stage so he would follow you. It took some time for him to snap out of everything and his feet started moving before his mind could catch up. Ava stood still, eyes trained on the way the crowd watched Jay run towards the door. Ava's figure trembled with anger, but underneath all the fury there was fear. Because she could see the closeness you and Jay shared couldn't be erased, not even now, now even after her lies were laid bare in front of everyone. Her feet moved, she couldn't let this moment be the one responsible for her downfall, Sunghoon grabbed her hand, pulling her back harshly, "we aren't done with you Ava," He looked back, Jake and Heeseung joining him as they cornered Ava, "can’t really let you walk away without leaving a scar for what you did to our best friend, now can we?"

Sunghoon turned towards the door, watching Jay run off towards the direction he gave him, Jay stopped when he reached the door, turning around to find himself locking eyes with Sunghoon who was holding Ava back from following him. Jay waited for him to say something, but Sunghoon just smiled, nodding his head at Jay and ushering him to follow you. Jay's lips trembled but he nodded back, turning around with newfound determination to find you. He walked down the stairs, looking around to see if he could catch a single glimpse of you, he ran his fingers through his hair, messing up the neat style he previously did. He swallowed hard, taking deep breaths, when he spotted something sparkling around the corner of the block. He ran towards that direction, praying and hoping you'd still be there.

You were walking down the sidewalk, mind too clouded and eyes too hazy to hear footsteps edging closer. You felt someone grab your hand and yank you back, then you heard the faintest whisper of your name, the voice slightly laboured, out of breath. A shiver ran down your spine at the sight of him, not expecting him to follow you out, you wanted to say something, anything but the look in his eyes, the way his lips trembled as he looked at you, the way his jaw was clenched as if he was holding something back, stopped you to saying anything further. For a moment he just looked at you, at your reddened eyes and tears stricken face but all it did was take him back a few moments ago when Ava told him the truth.

"You knew," he stated, his voice low and laced with something too broken to name, "Avalyn told me you knew she didn't write those letter, and you never told me..." your heart cracked at the slight crack in his voice as he talked, you opened your mouth but no words came out. He removed his hand from you, stepping closer till your toes touch, "all this time," he laughed bitterly, blinking a couple of times to wash away the tears that threatened to fall, "you watched me believe her, fall for a fake version of her, I trusted her, I trusted you, you're the only person with whom I shared the struggles of my relationship with, about how the letters made me feel seen, about how your best friend wasn't living up to it and you just let me?"

His words cut through you like a knife, you swallowed hard, throat dry, "it wasn't my place-" "wasn't your place?" He spat, eyes burning with betrayal and underlying heartbreak, "I thought you were my friend." Your head hung low, tears slipping down your cheeks, ashamed that you let everything spiral to this, "I'm your friend," your voice cracked, hands clenching into fist, you couldn't bring yourself to look at Jay, too guilty to feel worthy enough to do so. He shook his head as he watched you trembling in front of him, his hands itched to just pull you closer and hug you till it all started making sense. But he just shook his head instead.

The silence stretched for too long, none of you moved, your mind was swirling with hundreds of reasons you could give in order to justify your actions to him but none of them felt worthy enough to say out loud. Jay's hand trembled as they cupped your face, he placed his thumbs below your chin to tilt your face upward, "do you know how humiliating it was to find out that the entire foundation of my relationship was fake? That the girl who confessed about writing letters to me just played with my heart to get a few people to glance her way?" He wiped away the tears that fell down your cheeks, and leaned his forehead against yours, "and you? You let me believe in all of those things, you watched me make a fool of myself and didn't feel I'm worthy enough to know the truth."

Your breath hitched, hands reaching up to curl around his jacket to ground yourself, "I didn't want to hurt you Jay." He brushed his nose against you then stepped back, eyes red, hair disheveled as he narrowed his eyes at you, "isn't it too late to say that?" You closed your eyes as a choked sob escaped from your mouth, you couldn't even look at him without feeling the need to rip your heart apart. He was hurting, and he was hurting because of you. He studied you for a moment, even though every fibre of his body told him to just reach out to you, he took another step back, "I just," he ran his hand through his hair, visibly overwhelmed, "I don't know who I can trust anymore."

You opened your eyes at his words, "Jay," you started but he backed away even though you stayed glued in your spot, "wait here. Sunghoon will come and drop you off." And you watched him turn around and walk back towards Ava's house. You could see the weight of the betrayal, the disappointment, the truth weighing on his shoulders as he walked away and you stood there, watching the boy you love unraveling and breaking right in front of you. After a while, Sunghoon's car pulled up beside you and he got off, running towards where you stood, your arms circled around his waist, tears streaming down your face and sipping into his shirt. He held you close, rubbing your back to console you. The drive towards your apartment was silent, he glanced at you from time to time to check if you were doing fine. You bid him goodbye, assuring him that you'll call him if it felt too suffocating. He kissed your forehead, and pulled out of your building.

Jay was laid wide awake in his bedroom, still wearing the same clothes from the party, now slightly crumpled and disheveled. He blinked at the ceilings, recalling back to everything that led him to this moment. It felt surreal, the anonymous letters, the lie, the hope he had, the connection he shared with you, your lie, and the moment it all crashed down. He rubbed his face, groaning in his hands for being so stupid, he blamed himself for not verifying Ava's claim, for trusting her blindly. He wondered how his life would've been if he never received those letters, if he never let himself believe that someone was out there loving him the way he didn't know he needed. Maybe he got selfish after reading those letters.

He wondered how the person who originally wrote the letters must've felt after learning Ava claimed the letters as hers, about why that person never came forward to expose her lie, then his thoughts drifted to you. He still remembered the way his heart dropped when Ava told him you knew the truth all along, how even after knowing you deliberately chose to lie his heart still ached for you. How watching you crying in front of him felt like thousands of glass pieces pierced his skin, all at once. How one teary look from your eyes was enough for him to get on his knees for you. And it all confused him to no extent, he was sure he loved the person who wrote him the letters and he knew there was no one else who could see him the way they did, or make him feel the way their words did.

But now here he was, drowning in your thoughts, realization dawning upon him that even if you somehow decided to stab him with a knife, he would happily help you by placing it in the middle of his heart. That he somehow managed to fall in love with you so hard that he isn't sure what to do with his feelings. He knew he should've told you off, called you a liar, broken ties with you just like he did with Ava, because you were her best friend and you took part in her lies, that should've been the case but it wasn't. Instead, he just found himself looking for you amidst the crowd, his heart pounding and he ran off to find you, how his heart clenched at the sight of your trembling form and how relieved he felt after knowing you were safe.

He sighed, sitting up straight and switching on the lights of his room. He had been trying to sleep but he couldn't with all these thoughts running in his mind. His eyes wandered around his room as he grabbed the glass of water from his nightstand and drank it. He stopped when his eyes landed on the notebook neatly placed on his desk, your notebook, which you dropped as you rushed to attend the seminar. Despite his better judgement, his steps carried him towards his desk anyway. He picked up the notebook, fingers tracing the stem of the book, smiling softly at the little heart you drew at the corner of the cover page. He traced the heart with his thumb as if to picture you doodling it while you were thinking about something.

There wasn't a single thought behind his eyes when he opened your notebook, no suspicion, no curiosity, just a causal reach, a familiar motion which one does when they have a book in their hand. He didn't mean to see anything inside the book, but the second the pages parted and his eyes caught the words written inside, something shifted, like his heart recognized something his mind was yet to figure out. His fingers stilled against the paper, breath hitching as he looked at the pages, turning over a few more, just in case. He stumbled a bit, like the floor beneath his feet decided to slip off, and fell on his bed, he exhaled a deep breath, eyes trained on the book and your handwriting staring back at him, achingly familiar, too familiar and it hurt.

His fingers hovered over the ink, as if he felt the words would vanish if he touched them carelessly. But they didn't, they stayed, etched in the unmistakable way you write your words, the same pauses, the same rhythm. He flipped open the last page of the book and his throat tightened as he read a few lines that were scribbled recklessly, the handwriting a bit messy as if you wanted to hold onto the words before they disappeared from your head. Lines he recognized instantly, the one he knew he had read before, not in your notebook but in one of the letters that are neatly tucked inside the box. He grabbed the box and searched for the letters where you wrote those exact same lines dedicated to him. Keeping them side by side.

'I think you look the best as the sun sets, the sun's rays kissing your face in a gentle goodbye. Even the ground beneath you looks beautiful coated in your silhouette, and I wonder if I'll ever be able to stop seeing that version of you when I close my eyes.' He remembered those lines, he remembered how you wrote that you watched him enter the campus with his bandmates as he laughed at something his friends said, how you watched him till he disappeared from your sight from the library's crooked window, how you couldn't help but feel overwhelmed by how beautiful he looked and how deeply you were falling for him. His hands trembled as he clutched the notebook in his hands and made his way towards his car, towards you. He couldn't wait till next morning to talk to you, not after everything you both have been through, not after all the wait and longing.

You were sitting on your couch, hands in your hair, regretting everything that led you to this moment. All you wanted was to express your love for a person who helped you when you were at your lowest, a quiet support to let him know he wasn't alone. You still recalled writing him your first letter after you heard his parents berate him for choosing a musical career instead of their family business, they way his shoulders slumped, how hurt embraced him like an old friend. All you wanted was to let him know that he's loved, he's seen, and that his struggles aren't invisible. And maybe you did reach your goal, made him feel all the things you intended on making him feel but then everything shattered, like a twisted fairytale. And here you were, replaying it all, wishing you'd never sent those letters to him to spare him from the hurt that now made home in his eyes.

You wiped the tears that streamed down your cheeks, they seemed to be never ending, you'd sit for a while, blankly staring at nothing in particular then a sudden wave of emotions would dawn on you and tears would well up. You didn't try to stop them, didn't try to think of something that would numb all the pain. You deserved it, after all you had chosen to side with Ava instead of correcting her mistakes, so you let yourself feel, let yourself cry, let yourself hurt. You stood up, deciding to let sleep distract you from your feelings for a few hours would be a good option, you didn't want to bother Sunghoon with your feelings, he already did so much for you.

You turned around towards your bedroom, stopping mid-step as the echo of your doorbell bounced off your apartment walls. You frowned, wondering who would be visiting you at this hour. Still, you made your way towards the door, and opened it without a second thought, Jay stood in front of you, breathless, eyes red, then your eyes fell upon something he was holding tight in his hand. A notebook, yours to be specific. He didn't say anything right away, just stared at you as your brain pieced together the puzzle. You tilted your head upward, heart racing as you looked at him when a voice at the back of your head chimed in, he knows.

You weren't sure what to expect now that your secret has been revealed, you didn't not expect to see him again so soon, especially not with your notebook clutched in his hand at least. He walked towards you, and you wordlessly backed away to give him space, he hesitated before reluctantly stepping forward and keeping the book on the table by your entrance, "you left this behind," he mumbled, looking towards the notebook and not you, his voice hoarse as if it had been scratched. Then he turned towards you, stepping forward till there was no space left for you to go, "I read it." You swallowed, heart thundering inside your chest, "why did you? It was you....all this time....you." You inhaled sharply, mind racing with countless of things you could say to make this situation less messy and complicated than it had become, but before you could speak, he closed the distance, almost desperately, almost as if staying one second away from you was eating him up alive.

His lips met yours, not softly, not hesitantly. His fingers tangled in your hair, another one snaking around your waist to pull you close. Your hands found home on his shoulders, gasping at the sheer shock of it all. He kissed you like it was his elixir, the only thing that made the ache in his heart subsidize for a while. The kiss was everything, pain, longing, anger, love, all wrapped into one reckless moment of affection. He pulled back enough for both of you to breathe the air but not far enough that you'd miss his touch. His hand was still tangled in your hair, he gave it a gentle tug to tilt your head towards him, "I'm so fucking mad at you," his lips brushed against yours as he uttered those words, low and seething, "but I've never wanted anything else more than this."

He stepped back while you were still frozen in one place, his kiss lingering on your lips like a confession and goodbye at the same time. You opened your eyes, your breathing shallow, a little bit shaky as you watched him pace around your living room. You hesitated reaching out for him, like if you moved quickly the moment would shatter and vanish like it never happened in the first place. "Jay," you started, softly this time, fearing he would stop you yet again and leave you hanging, when he didn't, you took it as a sign to continue, "I never meant for you to know it's me." He stopped, his back turned towards you, "but I needed to..." turning around and stepping closer to you, "I needed to know it was you." Your lips trembled, you looked down to prevent him from watching you break yet again.

His hand reached up to cup your face, other reaching forward to hold your hand, "I was so angry," he breathed, leaning his forehead on yours, "At Ava, at you, at myself. I thought maybe all of it was just a fragment of my imagination, that none of this was real." You blinked, nodding your head, unsure of whether this is where he leaves or forgives you, "but then I saw this notebook, your handwriting, and I knew it was real, that you are real." Tears pricked your eyes but you blinked them back. "Why didn't you tell me?" He questioned, his nose brushing against yours, "I didn't tell you because I never thought you'd ever see me that way."

He kissed away the tears that managed to escape your eyes, your heart swelling with emotions at the softness of his actions, "don't say that, you don't get to decide how I feel about you, about us." He kissed your forehead, staying there for a beat or two, "I was looking for someone who was by my side the whole time, who made me feel seen, yet I was blind enough to never recognize the calm I felt in your presence was so achingly familiar."

"I never planned on coming out of the shadows, Jay. I just wanted to love you from afar, because I felt someone like me would never be able to keep up with someone like you. But Ava changed everything and I couldn't do anything about it. I tried warning her, but you looked so happy when she confessed that I couldn’t bring myself to tell the truth." You choked a sob, leaning your head on his shoulder as you cried. He held you close, kissing your head as he tried to blink back his own tears. "I fell in love with your words first, but it was your presence that made me fall deeper." And then without another word, he pulled you in for another kiss, soft and slow before it turned into something hungrier and needy.

"You said you weren't sure if I wanted you right?" He mumbled, not breaking the kiss, he pushed you towards your bedroom, a soft gasp leaving your lips at the abrupt movement, he took it as an opportunity to ease his tongue in your mouth, exploring, carving and claiming every corner of you as his, "let me show you how much I want you." His kisses trailed down from your mouth, to your jaw, his hand tilting your head slightly to pepper kisses down your throat. Your hand clutched his shirt, other sliding up from his chest to the nape of his neck and pulling his hair lightly. He groaned against your neck, sending shivers down your spine, his tongue lapping at your sweet spot. You moaned, he took it as a sign to suck on the same spot till a mark bloomed on it.

He pulled away, your body trembling as the air hit the spot where he licked. "You want me to show you?" He whispered, giving you a chance to back out if this isn't what you wanted, you gulped, taking a step closer, lips hovering above his, just enough, enough to drive him crazy with the distance, enough to have him begging for more, "yes," you sighed against his lips before grabbing his collar and pulling him down for another kiss. His hands travelled down from your neck, to your waist and finally they settled down low on your hips, pulling you closer so you could feel his hardening length against your thigh. You bit his bottom lip in response, which pulled a hiss from his mouth, hands tightening around your hips like he didn't want you to stop.

You felt his hand knead on the skin at the swell of your ass, your hands curling around his neck to bring him closer. He tapped your thigh, once, twice while leaning down and you took it as a sign to jump as he gave you support and carried you. Your legs wrapped around his waist and he pushed your body against the wall. He pulled away from the kiss, a string of saliva connecting your lips making him moan. He looked at you with a heavy, drunk in euphoria stare, a lopsided smile adorning his face as he took in your form, breathing heavily, cheeks flushed, hair messy and swollen lips. He decided it was one of his favorite looks.

His hand slid up from your waist, to your chest, stopping briefly to see you whimper before it reached your neck. He curled his finger around your neck, giving it a firm squeeze and you whined, throwing your head back, legs instinctively tightening around his hips. He smirked, leaning closer, "I need you to use your voice for me, butterfly. You think you could do that for me?" You nodded your head, aroused by the intensity of it all. He gave your neck another squeeze, a bit more firm, like a warning, "use your words, butterfly." You moaned, eyes rolling back, "yes." He smiled, releasing his hold from your neck and giving your neck a gentle kiss, "good girl."

Your hands that rested on his shoulders, rose up to cradle his face as he continued to lick, suck and bite your neck. You tilted his head, reconnecting your lips with his as if you couldn't just get enough of it. He groaned, one hand sliding at the nape of your neck to deepen the kiss and the other pressing into the skin of your arm, squeezing the flesh to anchor himself. He traced his tongue on your lips, before capturing your lips again, biting at the skin, silently asking you to let him in. His fingers then pulled at the hem of your top, tugging at it impatiently, you broke off the kiss, pulling the top over your head and throwing it somewhere in the room. His pupils dilated, hunger creeping in as he looked at you like he had been starving.

You swallowed hard, for the first time in your life you were watching someone unravel because of you without even doing anything wild. His ragged breath made you bold, you ran your fingers through his scalp before grabbing a fistful of hair and tugging it. He moaned, his lips attaching to the unmarked area of your chest, his hands sliding up and stopping just below the swell of your breast, "is this okay butterfly? Can I touch you here?" You whined, arching your chest, needy for his touch, "please," you whispered, almost as if it physically pained you because he wasn't touching you and he sighed, biting his lips and reaching up to squeeze your boobs.

"Let me take this off," His hands found the clasp of your bra, detaching it in one swift motion, he pulled the bra off of you and threw it down. Your eyes widened, low-key impressed by his 'bra-removing-expertise' but your train of thoughts broke off just as you felt his lips on your nipple, he liked it, then blew air on it, sending shiver throughout your body, his hand softly massaging the other one. You closed your eyes, leaning your head against the wall as he switched between both of your boobs, heat pooling between your legs, begging for attention. He took his time with your boobs, relishing at the sound of your soft sighs. He licked up your neck, placing a slow kiss on it, you grind your hips against his, a groan ripping out of his throat at the sudden sensation. His hands supported your back as he turned around and walked towards the bed, gently laying you down.

He stood at the foot of the bed, his eyes roaming on your half-naked self, he climbed up, gulping at the sight before him, "so beautiful." Your hands instinctively cross over your chest, frown appearing on his face at your actions, "don't be embarrassed, it's just me." He hovered over you, hands on your side, he removed your arms from your chest, dipping his head low and placing gentle kisses all over your chest, mumbling sweet nothings in between. Your hands fists the sheets, as he moved lower, his eyes trained on the way your expression changed with every movement of his. He stopped as he reached near the waistband of your shorts, sucking and marking the area around your hips. Your breath shuddered, eyes closing.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Your body relaxed as you felt Jay's voice vibrate through the skin of your stomach, you looked at him, hands on both sides of your hips as he found home in between your legs, chin propped up on your stomach, pupil blown wide as he waited for your answer. You ran your fingers through his hair, a small smile gracing your lips before the heat in between your legs became too much to handle, "yes, love." He got up, sitting on his knees as he started removing his shirt. You reached up, rising slightly to help him, eager to have him close. He threw his shirt somewhere near the bed, you sat up, trailing kisses from his torso to his chest. He tangled his fingers on your hair, not pulling, just holding. His eyes met with your lust filled one and you bit on his nipple, then placed a kiss, he moaned, loud enough that he surprised himself, and he pushed you back on the bed, connecting his lips back to yours.

His hands travelled down your body, squeezing, gripping, tracing, the skin beneath his hands, "you're so soft, butterfly." His fingers dig inside the waistband of your shorts, your breath hitched in anticipation, he looked at you once before he pulled both your shorts and panties off of you, together, in one swift motion. You tried closing your legs, the air around you feeling cool against the slick in between your folds. "You're dripping butterfly, all this for me?" He dipped down, fingers separating your folds to get a better look at your dripping hole, you whined, clenching around nothing as his words went straight into your core. His breath fanning against your folds, he slid up two of his fingers on your slit, your hips jolting with surprise, legs shaking.

He kept an eye on your face, in case you felt uncomfortable, he rubbed your clit in small circles, your legs digging in the bed, back arching. Your hand gripped his shoulder, the other one holding the wrist of his hand which was making you see stars. "I'll be putting a finger in love," he waited for your reply then carefully inserted his middle finger inside your hole, you gasped, lead lifting off the pillow, his head dipped down, capturing your lips in his to help you get distracted. He started moving his finger when you let out a strained whine, his movements slow and steady as he waited for your body to adjust to the feeling. "So good, Jay." He smiled at your words, carefully inserting his index finger and curling them inside you to test out the waters.

"Jay," you moaned, eyes rolling back, he continued his movements, increasing his pace, he could feel your walls clenching around his fingers, "damn love, you're doing so good for me." Your chest rose and fell, heart racing, mind filled with pleasure, you could feel a knot forming in your stomach, "Jay, I think- I think I'm gonna cum," Jay smiled at you, already feeling your release close before you even said anything, "yeah? Cum all over my fingers butterfly, make a mess." You nodded, brows furrowing at the overwhelming feeling, "shit, Jay don't stop," your breath shuttered, pleasure washing over you. Jay's movements slowed down, his eyes trained on the way your juices coated his fingers, his head dipped down, licking a long strip on your pussy, your hands flew onto his head, pulling at his hair at the sudden action.

His fingers gain their pacing again, as his tongue works on your clit, "Jay, it's too much, I can't." He groans when he feels you pull at his hair, "you can do it love, give me another one please." He laps at your pussy, eating it like it's his last meal, his hips slightly rut against the bed, aching to get some friction, you bite your lips, trying to supress your moans with how good he's making you feel and it's not long before you come undone again. He removed his fingers from your pussy and you whined at the empty feeling, you watched as he looked at you before putting his fingers at his mouth and licking them clean. His hands then spread your legs wider, tongue darting out to lick you clean. You shiver, legs closing around his head, feeling overstimulated after cumming twice, he laps at your pussy, smiling at you when he's done.

You pull the waistband of his jeans, a little impatient but eager to help him with his needs, "take it off." He chuckled at your needy tone as he removed his jeans and boxer, his hardened lock slapping against his abs. You gulped, mouth salivating at the sight, he looked so gorgeous as he kneeled before you, eyes closing momentarily as he stroked himself lightly, spreading his precum on his length. He climbed over you, his cock slapping against your thigh. He sighed, wiping the sweat dripping off your forehead and removing the hair sticking on your face. "So beautiful, could eat you out for hours, butterfly, you taste so good." You flush at his words, slapping his chest lightly, he laughed, leaning up to place a chaste kiss on your forehead.

He rubbed his cock against your fold to gather you slick, his hands placed on either side of your head, one of your hands held his shoulder while the other ran through his hair. He kissed you, gentle and soft as he lined himself up in your entrance, your breath hitched at the mere contact, legs tightening beside his waist, he groaned against the kiss, his hand sliding down to keep your legs open wide as he pushed himself in you, slow and steady. You hissed, feeling his tip enter your dripping cunt, he kissed you all throughout, mumbling words of encouragement and praises in between as he slowly bottomed out inside you. "Fuck butterfly, you're so fucking tight around me, it's like you're sucking me in, love."

You whimpered, feeling full, he looked at you, showering kisses across your face till you adjusted to his size so he could move. "Tell me when you'll be ready, okay love? Take your time." You nodded your head, kissing and marking his neck to distract yourself from momentary pain, his neck chain shining, against your face, "please move, Jay, fuck." He gave you a peck before pulling out of your pussy all the way, then sliding back in, in one swift motion. Your back arched, as a strangled moan left your lips. His hands trembled just hearing you moan right next to his ears. The sounds are going straight in his cock.

He pulled out, only to thrust back in, slow and deep, his eyesbrows furrowed as he tried his best not to lose control and fuck you senseless. You moaned, your walls clenching around his length, his chain hitting your face in the same rhythm his hips snapped against yours. "Faster, please." He leaned his head on yours, his movements steady as he smirked at you, "you want it faster my love?" You nodded frantically, and he bit your lip as he adjusted himself to increase his pace. He started slamming his length into you faster, and harder and with the way your walls were trying to suck him into you, he knew you were close. One of his hands slid down your body to rub circles around your clit to heighten your pleasure.

"Ah fuck, Jay!" He smirked as you held onto him like your life depended on it, "you're taking me so well baby, this pussy," he groaned, hand never stopping their movement on your clit, "made for me." You whined, nails digging on his shoulders, his chain repeatedly hitting your face, you frowned tilting your head up and parted your lips, and as the chain hit your face again, you trapped it between your teeth, Jay froze at he felt a abrupt tug on his neck, looking down towards you he breathed out a pained sigh, completely unraveling. His hips recovered their pace, hips slamming against yours. You released the chain and he dipped his head to suck your nipple.

"Fuck, Jay, I'm close so close," He released your nipple only to focus on the other one, "me too, I'm close too butterfly, cum with me, cover me with your juices, love, fuck." His movements became sloppy, losing the rhythm as he fucked you recklessly, you moaned one last time as your orgasm washed over you, he rode you through your high before spilling his seeds inside of you, long spruts if cum dripping out of his cock, you whined feeling the heat of his cum spilling inside if you. "I love you," you opened your eyes to see smiling down at you, the soft glow of your bedroom light framed him in gold, casting a quiet halo around his body, he chuckled lightly, wiping the tear that escaped your eyes without even you knowing, your lips trembled, "I love you too."

He closed his eyes, dropping his weight on you as he hugged you close, burying his face on your neck, still buried deep inside you. You hugged his shoulders, massaging his scalp as both of you regained your breath. "Come one, let me clean you up so we can sleep." You whined at his words and he chuckled, scooping you in his arms instead and took you inside the bathroom to clean you and himself up. You shuddered as he cleaned your pussy, feeling overstimulated and sore. He mumbled quick apologies, cleaning himself up, changing the sheets and climbing up on the bed with you to finally sleep.

The hallway is empty, save for a few students who are scattered across in little groups, you're sitting inside the empty classroom, gathering your belongings as you texted Jay that you'll be heading to his house soon. A small smile gracing up on your face at the mere thought of spending time with him. You're so busy with yourself that you don't hear her approach you. But the moment a pair of heels come into view, you glance up and Ava is already looking down at you, standing in front of you like she had been searching for you all day. Her eyes are red, almost as if she had been crying all week, her perfect hair frying at the edges, but it's her eyes, raw, wild and angry, you stand up.

"You're such a great actress," she says, low and seething as she looked at you, "you wrote those letters and let me play the role of a fool as I claimed to be the one who wrote your letters. You let me be the thief." You opened your mouth but she cut you off, stepping forward, every movement sharp with fury, "was this your ultimate plan? To humiliate me? Let me take the fall so you could step on me and reclaim the spot as yours?" Your eyebrow twitched, words flying off of your mind at her accusations, "No!" You sharply declined, stepping towards her instead of backing away like you always did, "you don't get to play the victim here Ava, you did this all upon yourself. Yes I wrote those letters, yes I let you claim it as yours but I did it for Jay."

You stood tall, having enough of her tantrums and manipulation, "I did it because he looked so happy when I saw him with you. You didn't ask me when you claimed those letters as yours, I even warned you but you are so selfish, you only think about yourself." She laughed, eyes squinting, "you let me live in the spotlight while you sat there watching me like some pathetic loser, what does that make me now?" Her voice crumbled, not from pain but from fury, "nothing, that's what I am now! I lost Jay, I lost my spotlight, I lost....you. and you were supposed to be someone who would never leave." Your heart broke watching her breakdown in front of you but you knew better.

"You were mine, my best friend, my shadow. You weren't supposed to overtake me, you were supposed to stay behind me!" She stepped closer, but you stepped back, she froze, realization hitting her on the face that the power she once had on you is over now. "You don't complain when you make your own plate, Ava. I warned you but you never listened. I stayed with you even when I knew you were using me to satisfy your ego, I thought you'd change but no, you don't care about anyone else but you and your image, and now that you've lost it, you're trying to manipulate me into thinking I was at fault. You wouldn't be in this situation if you never lied." She laughed, "wow, you really are the cruel one," she whispered. She stepped back, her heels echoing off the empty classroom and she left. And you were left standing there, watching her go out of your classroom and your life.

"Yeah yeah, I'll be there soon," Jay replied to Heeseung while packing his things inside his bag. He was currently in the music room of the university while everyone else was waiting for him to join them at a hangout spot they usually go to, the bridge that overlooks a river. He hung up the phone, his screen blinking with Heeseung's contact photo. He shook his head, locking his screen and continuing with his actions. He looked around to check if he forgot anything when he noticed he left his music book on the table, he grabbed the book hurriedly before placing it inside his bag.

An envelope fell down from his book due to his frantic movements and he stopped, crouching down to pick it up. His chest fluttered when he opened it, a handwriting which he had seen countless times appearing in front of his eyes, he smiled in amusement, wondering when you put this letter inside his book. He opened the letter anyway, deciding that waiting till the day was over would be too much for his curious heart.

My Jay,

If you look into my eyes, you'll find me thanking the heavens for blessing you in my life, smiling at the thought that I was lucky to have you, thinking about how I ended up with you.

If you look into my eyes, you'll find me looking for you everywhere I go, trying to trace your face amongst the crowd, yearning for being in your presence.

If you look into my eyes, amidst all the lingering eyes and subtle glances, you'll find me staring at you, watching you giggle, and when I get caught, I look away hiding my blush.

If you look into my eyes, you'll see how much your presence affects me, wanting to be the center of your universe. If I could, I would spend eternity with you.

If you look into my eyes, you'll find me clutching onto our dreams, a bit insecure about our future, still determined to take the tempting risk.

If you look into my eyes, you'll find how deeply I'm into you, so much so to the point I sometimes scare myself, thinking about how hard life would be without you.

If you look into my eyes, you'll find me standing by the river, gently letting the wind engulf my heart, looking at you longingly as you try your best not to fall.

If you look into my eyes, you'll see a tired soul, just wanting to love and to be loved, wondering if you feel it the way I do.

If you look into my eyes, you'll feel the love that pours out of me, just look up and stare directly at my eyes, you'll find me clutching at our dreams.

If you look into my eyes, you'll find yourself.

Yours,

Butterfly.

PS: I know you're wondering when I put this letter inside, but you'd never know, I'm kind of very good at this whole secret admirer agenda. Don't expect anything else, just because I'm dating you doesn't mean these letters will stop. I'm very much in love with you, but there are still some moments where I'm too shy to say what I want to say, but I need you to know how much I love you, so these letters are my armour. I wrote this for you recently, and I wanted you to read that!

He smiled, feeling warmth spread all throughout him as he folded the letter and put it inside the envelope, making a mental note to keep it inside the box when he reached back home. He sighed, content at how things have turned out. He still had a long way to go with his parents but you were by his side now, so he was glad he wouldn't have to face it alone. He felt at peace with you, never felt the need to say much. He was zoned out, drowning in his thoughts when his phone rang again, he snapped out of his thoughts, answering Heeseung's calls, "I'm done bro, I was just leaving."

"How many fingers can you see?" You glared at Jake, who currently stood beside you holding up 4 fingers in front of your face, "four," you muttered through gritted teeth, you could hear Heeseung chuckle from behind you, which annoyed you more. You put your glasses back, shoving Jake's shoulders. "You can see, why do you need glasses," you rubbed your temple, sighing in disappointment, "I'm not THAT blind, I just need them to see more clearly, stupid." Jake looked at you like you had just committed a crime against his dignity, "woah, did you just call me stupid? After all the love and affection I shower you with?" He placed a hand on his heart, staggering back a step, "me? The one who puts up with you squinting at traffic lights?"

Your mouth fell open at his words, you lurched forward, attempting to grab his precious hair as he didn't seem to back down from his teasing you. Heeseung laughed at both of you, clutching his stomach, beside him Sunghoon just shook his head, an amused smile plastered on his face as he stepped forward to separate Jake from your fury. "See, and you wonder why I call her trouble!" You stuck your tongue out at Jake, who was trying to make his hair more presentable after you messed it, trying to win an argument like a five year old, which worked somehow because Jake whined, clearly more irritated.

Jake gave you a side eye before turning around dramatically and walked off, joining Heeseung and complaining about how mean you are and how you never seem to return the love he showers you with, and how he feels that his best friend's agenda is one sided and you never considered him as such. You laughed at him, and he threw you an annoyed glance. You heard Sunghoon clear his throat from behind you and you turned around, standing beside him, overlooking the river as both of you leaned against the railing. "You know," you turned your head in his direction, but he wasn't looking at you, instead focusing his eyes on the view in front of him, "you used to make my heart race, at some time." You saw him swallow, a soft smile adorning his face, your heart skipped a beat, but you still hummed in response, "now you make me question your maturity level on a daily basis."

You gasped in mock offense, turning your head back at the river flowing gently in front of you, "excuse you, I just reciprocate the energy people give me." He chuckled, his fang-like teeth making an appearance, "whatever helps you sleep at night pretty." You pout at his words, bumping your shoulder with his playfully, he bumps back, just enough to make you slightly wobble on your spot. "Hey! I could've fallen," you whined, holding onto the railing tightly as if he would try to bump into you again, "don't worry, I would have fallen with you before letting you do it alone." You felt your heart tightened at his words but when you looked at him, you could see a teasing glint in his eyes, like he knew those words would make you stumble a bit.

You shook your head, smiling softly at his words, "see I don't doubt your words but I was hoping you'd just pull me back instead of falling with me." He chuckled at your words, ruffling your hair before retracting his hand back. "I'm glad it's you," He mumbled after sometime, "with Jay, I mean." He was already looking at you when you turned your head towards him, the wind messing his hair. You smiled, feeling warmth spread over you, "and I'm glad, you are still beside me." He nodded, tearing his eyes away from you, "I know....I think I'm exactly where I am supposed to be." You gulped, still looking at his face, you could see he wanted to say something more, so you just nudged his shoulder and arched your eyebrows at him.

It got quiet for a second, wind flowing through your hair as you stood with him in silence yet it was enough, for you both, it would always be enough, "I think some part of me loved you even before I realized it, you're good, a steady kind of good, the type where I know I could lean on you and never have to worry about falling apart." You nodded, biting your lips at his sudden confession, "and I loved you, not in the way like I love Jay, but something just as real, something I still do." His smile turned a little melancholic but still held the same warmth nonetheless, "I'm glad at the way things turned out, that you got Jay just how you wanted, it pained me to watch him be with Ava, second guessing everything in his life." You exhaled, memories resurfacing in front of your eyes, "you pushed me towards him when all you wanted was to hold me, it's something which I will never forget, Hoon."

"Oh, this dangerously looks like someone is trying to bond without me," you both turn around at the voice, you don't move but you're already grinning like a lovesick fool, the wind mess with your hair lightly and Sunghoon just smiles like he had been waiting for Jay to make his entrance. "Relax, lover boy, she's still yours." Jay rolled his eyes at Sunghoon's words, making his way towards where you stood and sliding his arms around both of your shoulders, pulling you both in. "We were just talking," you grinned, nuzzling into his warmth, "talking huh?" He teased, playing with your ear. Sunghoon snorted, clearly amused at the exchange, "yeah talking, want me to narrate everything to you so you'd feel included?"

Jay shook his head as Sunghoon leaned his head on his shoulder, "trouble comes in pairs in my life." You and Sunghoon laughed at his words, not really defending his claim, then Jay sighed, a content smile gracing on his lips, "lucky for me though, I'm clingy and not emotionally constipated." You scrunch your nose in response, just as Sunghoon faked his cough, "and humble too, apparently," you joked, rolling your eyes though you had a fond smile on your face. "Seriously though..." Jay trailed off, kissing your temple as you hand reached up to give his hand a gentle squeeze, "I don't think I've ever felt this steady in my life, like I know even if the world around me starts to spin I've got people who would have my back."

"And we've got your back too," Heeseung replied, standing beside Sunghoon, who then draped his hand on Heeseung's shoulder, while Jake joined your side, his hands interlocking yours as he looked at everyone, "Wow, this shit almost made me cry." Everyone groaned, nagging at him for ruining the moment. "It's so stupid, but I feel so lucky right now," Jay chuckled, biting back his emotions. "You're definitely stupid, but hey at least you're self aware," Heeseung laughed, looking at everyone with softness. Jay shook his head as he dramatically sighed, "I take it back, I'm not lucky, I'm doomed." Sunghoon chimed in, not missing a beat, "you still chose us, real tragic."

He’s quiet. Like, unnervingly quiet. Dressed in black from head to toe with his sleeves rolled just enough to show his veins (rude), and eyes that flick to you once before looking away again. Not a single word. Just a blank expression like you’re a fly he’s choosing not to swat.

“Don’t mind him,” Sunoo said, swooping in with a comforting hand on your shoulder. “That’s Sunghoon. He doesn’t talk much, but he’s not mean. I promise.”

“I didn’t say he was mean,” you muttered, still trying to rearrange the croissants you nearly obliterated.

“You thought it, though,” Sunoo grinned, like he’s already read your soul.

Meanwhile, Ni-ki was cackling in the corner, filming your breakdown for "training purposes."

Sunghoon, still wordless, wiped the steam wand clean, glanced once at the mess you’ve made, then—finally—muttered, “You shouldn’t listen to Ni-ki.”

His voice was soft, low. Dangerous. Like he only spoke when absolutely necessary.

You blinked. “Thanks for the early intel.”

He looked at you again. Longer this time.

And then, he walked away.

No other words. Just disappeared behind the back counter like you were the one who interrupted his day.

“…So anyway!” Sunoo chirped, practically dragging you away, “Let’s get you trained before you break anything else, hmm?”

You glanced back once, just in time to see Sunghoon glance over his shoulder at you.

He looked away first.

And for some reason… that annoyed you.

—

You’d worked four shifts now. Sunoo was basically your fairy godmother, Ni-ki was your unpaid therapist-slash-chaos agent, and Sunghoon?

Sunghoon was still a cardboard box with perfect skin.

He didn’t talk to you unless he had to. Didn’t smile unless he was laughing at something Sunoo said. Didn’t even look at you unless you were actively on fire, and even then, you weren’t sure he’d do more than mildly raise an eyebrow.

Which was extra annoying because somehow he was also weirdly funny. When he talked to Ni-ki or Sunoo, he’d drop the driest one-liners out of nowhere, and suddenly everyone was on the floor laughing. You tried to talk to him? Nothing. Crickets. Maybe a blink, if you were lucky.

You were cleaning the counter one evening when you caught him saying something to Ni-ki, low and casual, and Ni-ki absolutely lost it.

“Okay, that was actually good,” Sunoo wheezed. “Where was that energy earlier when she knocked over the milk?”

“She was already dying,” Sunghoon replied. “Didn’t need to bury her.”

Your head snapped up. “Excuse me?!”

He looked at you, slow and lazy, like he was surprised you heard. “It’s a compliment.”

“How is that a compliment?”

He shrugged. “You’re resilient.”

You stared. “I—what—resilient?! I tripped over my own shoelace!”

“I noticed.”

Sunoo clapped a hand over his mouth like he was about to implode.

You blinked at Sunghoon. He blinked back.

You narrowed your eyes. “You’re so—”

He lifted a brow. “You’re loud.”

You opened your mouth, but Sunoo threw an arm around your shoulders like he was trying to defuse a bomb.

“Okayyy! Let’s all take a breath,” he sang. “Some of us process friendship through gentle banter and others process it by… doing whatever it is Sunghoon does... verbal sparring?”

“I’m not sparring,” Sunghoon said, already walking away.

You glared at his back. “You never spar. You just vanish.”

“Exactly,” he called over his shoulder.

You looked at Sunoo. “I don’t get him.”

Sunoo just smiled. “You will.”

You really thought you wouldn’t—until God bestowed upon you a tragic prophecy, disguised as the café schedule for the following week.

Mon–Fri Closing Shift (5PM–11PM): YOU + SUNGHOON

You stared and blinked, rubbed your eyes, tried processing.

Sunghoon saw it at the same time you did.

“…No,” he said flatly.

You crossed your arms. “Wow. Good to see you too.”

“Sunoo,” he called toward the kitchen. “Switch me. Please.”

“Nope!” Sunoo’s voice floated back. “You’ll thank me later!”

You both stared at the schedule like it had personally offended you. Then—slowly—at each other.

This was going to be a long week.

—

Monday was… quiet.

You tried to make conversation—about the playlist, the new coffee beans, even the weather—but Sunghoon gave you absolutely nothing. Just a few nods and hums, like you were a podcast playing in the background.

You swore he spent more time restocking stirrers than actually speaking to you.

You huffed under your breath, finding him impossible to work with. The shift felt ten hours longer than it actually was, and you were convinced the silence was slowly killing your soul.

As the evening dragged on, you caught him sitting at the back counter, pulling out a laptop in between cleaning duties. You tried not to be nosy—but it was hard not to peek.

Tabs upon tabs of schoolwork were open on his screen—assignments, lecture slides, even a color-coded spreadsheet. You blinked. Huh. Sunghoon was more hardworking than you’d expected. You thought he was just the type to show up, do his job, and disappear back into the void—but here he was, typing away like the shift never even ended.

You munched on your dinner, a sad slice of pizza you grabbed from down the street during your break. The cheese had hardened and the crust was borderline cardboard, but it was food. You leaned against the counter, chewing quietly, when you realized—

Sunghoon hadn’t eaten anything. Not since the two of you started at five.

You watched him from the corner of your eye, fingers tapping against his keyboard, face unreadable in the glow of his screen.

You opened your mouth. “Hey, do you—” But you stopped yourself. Closed it again.

He’d probably just get annoyed. Or say no in that flat, disinterested way of his. And then you’d feel stupid. Still, you kept glancing over at him, stealing quick looks in between bites. At one point, you noticed his hands pressing lightly against his stomach, like he was trying to ignore it. His expression didn’t change, but the movement said enough.

He was probably hungry. You looked down at the last bite of pizza in your hand and sighed.

Tuesday, you decided, would be different.

Tuesday, you showed up with an extra sandwich from the convenience store.

You didn’t say anything. Just slid it across the counter around 7PM, because the night before, he hadn’t eaten dinner and you weren’t about to let him pass out mid-espresso pull.

He stared at the sandwich. Then at you.

You raised a brow. “You didn’t eat yesterday.”

He blinked. “…Okay.”

“You’re welcome.”

You didn’t hear a thank you. But he didn’t give it back either.

Progress.

Wednesday, there was a cup of noodles in your locker.

Just sitting there. No note. No explanation. Just… sitting.

You marched up to Sunghoon, holding it in your hands like evidence. “Did you put this in my locker?”

He looked at the cup noodle. Then at you. Then blinked, deadpan. “…No.”

“Really.”

He shrugged.

You squinted at him.

He walked away.

You were this close to launching the noodle at the back of his head. Instead, you ate it. And maybe smiled. A little.

Thursday, you both brought each other dinner. At the same time.

You froze at the counter, holding out your plastic bag just as he set his down.

“…I got you something,” you said.

He stared at your bag. Then gestured to his. “So did I.”

You glanced at each other, at the food, and then away.

“Thanks,” you muttered.

He nodded. “Mm.”

You caught the tiniest tug at the corner of his mouth as he turned around.

You smiled too. But only when he wasn’t looking.

Friday, you didn’t expect anything. You were restocking the fridge when you heard it:

“Hey.”

You turned around, startled. “What?”

Sunghoon was standing there, one hand on the fridge door, the other in his pocket. His voice was quiet, like he was testing it out on you for the first time.

“I—uh,” he started, eyes flicking to yours, then away. “You always wear that hair clip. The pink one. With the sparkles.”

You blinked. “Yeah?”

He nodded slowly. “I thought it was dumb at first.”

“Okay…?”

“But now it’s kinda…” He paused, scratched the back of his neck. “I dunno. Cute, I guess.”

You stared at him.

“Forget it,” he muttered, moving past you.

“No wait,” you said, stepping into his path, a slow grin spreading across your face. “Did you just say I’m cute?”

He didn’t look at you. “I said the clip is cute.”

“That I’m wearing.”

“That doesn’t mean—”

“Sunghoon thinks I’m cute~” you sang, spinning in a circle while he groaned and walked away.

But you caught it—right before he turned around completely.

The smile. The real one.

And for the first time all week, you were pretty sure… he might have liked you back.

The silence didn’t feel heavy anymore. It wasn’t awkward. Just quiet. Comfortable. Like a pause instead of a wall.

You were sweeping. He was mopping. The usual end-of-shift rhythm. You hummed a song under your breath—something from the café playlist that had been looping for hours. He didn’t comment on it this time. Just kept mopping in sync with you.

The air smelled like cleaning solution and vanilla syrup. The lights were dimmed to their soft closing hour glow. Outside, the city buzzed quietly under the street lamps.

Then you heard it—his voice. Low. Careful.

“I hear you’re starting college soon.”

You blinked, glancing up from your broom. He wasn’t looking at you, just focusing on a coffee stain near the back corner of the café.

“Yeah,” you said. “Orientation’s next week.”

He nodded once. “Same.”

You stopped sweeping. “Wait—seriously?”

He nodded again, this time glancing at you. “Business major?”

“Yeah. Are you—”

“Same.”

You stared. “You’re kidding.”

He shook his head, mouth twitching like he couldn’t believe it either. “Guess you’re stuck with me.”

You couldn’t help it—you grinned. “Wow. And I thought this week was the end of my suffering.”

He smirked, just a little. “Mutual, believe me.”

You rolled your eyes, but your cheeks felt warm. “This is gonna be weird.”

“Probably.”

You leaned against your broom, tilting your head. “What if we get put in the same class?”

“I’ll transfer out.”

You laughed. Actually laughed. And the look on his face softened in that tiny, quiet way he did sometimes—like a blink-and-you-miss-it moment of fondness.

“So,” you said, brushing past him on your way to put the broom away, “does this mean we’re friends now?”

He paused. Looked at you.

Then—“You’re loud.”

You turned around, walking backward. “Not a no~”

He rolled his eyes. But he didn’t say no.

—

Your first day of college started in a lecture theatre that looked like it belonged in a movie.

Wide rows of tiered seats. Floor-to-ceiling windows. A massive screen at the front welcoming new students with a generic but oddly comforting "Welcome, Future Leaders!" banner.

You slid into a seat at the back row, instinctively avoiding the eager clusters forming near the front. It was still early, and the place buzzed with chatter, nerves, and the rustle of free tote bags and pamphlets.

You opened one of the pamphlets a student ambassador had handed you earlier and scanned it while sipping on the last of your bottled tea. Campus map. Co-curricular activities. After-school programmes. There was even a flowchart on how to balance academic and personal development. It was cheesy, but a part of you—the part that studied like hell to get here—felt… proud. You belonged here. You were surrounded by people who cared just as much as you did.

You let out a small sigh, the kind that came from contentment, then finally looked up—

And blinked.

Sunghoon was walking toward you.

Brown coat sweeping behind him. A scarf looped casually around his neck. Glasses perched on the bridge of his nose, framing his face in a way that made him look straight out of a campus brochure. He carried two cups of coffee in one hand, the sleeves of his coat pushed just enough to reveal the band of his watch.

He didn’t say anything at first. Just placed one of the cups in front of you like it was the most natural thing in the world.

You stared at it. Then at him.

“…You stalking me now?”

Sunghoon raised a brow. “You’re sitting in the back row. That’s the least stalkable seat.”

“Mm,” you hummed, smirking as you took the coffee anyway. “So you do want to be friends.”

He slid into the seat beside you. “I didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t have to.” You raised the cup. “Acts of service. Love language. I’m flattered.”

He gave you a look. “It’s just coffee.”

“And glasses,” you added, gesturing to his face. “You’re really committing to the college-boy aesthetic, huh? Next you’re gonna pull out a book of poetry.”

He rolled his eyes, but you didn’t miss the way his lip twitched like he was holding back a smile. “You’re annoying.”

You took a sip. It was warm. Slightly sweet. Exactly how you liked it.

“And yet,” you said, nudging his arm with your elbow, “here you are.”

He didn’t answer. Just looked ahead at the empty podium, his fingers wrapped around his own cup. But his shoulder stayed against yours—light, steady, unbothered.

And you… didn’t move away.

Then, the two of you were a part of a routine.

Ever since you both found out you were classmates, Sunghoon would wait in the apartment lobby every morning with a drink in hand—tea or coffee, depending on how late you texted him the night before.

Before 12AM? Chamomile. After 12? Iced latte, extra pumps of vanilla. No questions asked.

It had been a whole month of college, and while you were still adjusting, you were glad you had Sunghoon. (More like—Sunghoon was glad he had you.)

You were outgoing. People liked you, drawn in by your energy. Sure, you could be shy at first, but once you warmed up, you were easily the heart of any group. Loud. Expressive. A little dramatic. And though Sunghoon called you irritating more times than you could count, he couldn’t deny it was part of your charm.

Part of why he noticed you in the first place.

Now here you were—walking side by side, warm drink in hand, on your way to your first class of the day. You were mid-story about something ridiculous your professor said in a group chat. Sunghoon just walked quietly beside you, listening.

And somehow, that felt like the best part of your morning.

You were walking across the quad with Sunghoon, your cup in one hand, rambling about something dumb from class when a football came flying almost knocking you out.

A second later, a tall guy sprinted into your path, trying to catch it—and collided right into you.

You gasped, stumbling back, but before you could even register what happened, Sunghoon had already pulled you aside, his hand wrapping firmly around your arm, shielding you behind him.

“Shit—sorry!” the guy said, breathless, catching the ball. His cap was turned backwards, and strands of his hair stuck to his forehead from running. He looked at you, eyes wide. “You okay?”

You nodded, eyes locking with his.

He smiled.

And for a moment, your heart stuttered.

He was cute. Really cute. Sharp jaw, dimpled grin, that kind of effortless charm that made you forget what you were saying.

“I—uh, yeah. All good,” you mumbled.

Sunghoon’s hand slowly dropped from your arm. You didn’t notice. You were still looking at Yeonjun.

He looked at you too. “I’m Yeonjun, by the way.”

You smiled, just a little. “Nice to meet you.”

Sunghoon stood still beside you, silent as ever.

But he saw it.

The look. The smile. The way you laughed, a little softer than usual. The way Yeonjun’s eyes lingered when he handed you back the drink you almost dropped.

Sunghoon didn’t say anything.

He just looked away.

—

Yeonjun showed up at the café on a Friday afternoon, all sunshine and charm, and you were too busy juggling orders to notice him at first—until he waved from the counter with that same boyish smile.

Your eyes lit up. “Oh my god—hey!”

He leaned over casually, glancing at the menu. “Didn’t know you worked here. I guess I’ll have to stop by more often.”

Meanwhile, across the room, Sunghoon sat at a corner table with a textbook open in front of him and an untouched iced americano beside it. According to him, he was there to study. According to Sunoo, he was there to “keep an eye out for Selenur.” (Sunoo’s thoughtful codename for you, since he was very sure Sunghoon had a “thing” for you)

Sunghoon told him to shut up.

Now, he watched silently as you and Yeonjun exchanged numbers, your head tilted toward the screen, smile wide. He saw Yeonjun grin, say something that made you laugh, and hand you his phone.

Sunghoon’s jaw tightened.

Not my problem, he told himself, eyes flicking back to his textbook. Not. My. Problem.

You walked over seconds later, practically skipping, still holding your phone like it was made of gold. “Can you believe it? He asked me out!”

Sunghoon didn’t look up.

You slid into the seat across from him anyway, hitting his arm repeatedly with giddy little slaps. “Sunghoon. He asked. Me. Out!”

He sighed, finally meeting your eyes. “Stop hitting me.”

“Sorry,” you giggled, not sorry at all. “I’m just excited!”

He watched you bounce in your seat, hair bouncing with you, eyes sparkling like you just won the lottery. He hated to admit how adorable you looked when you were like this. But he had a reputation. And emotions. And he was firmly committed to ignoring both.

Still. Something didn’t sit right.

Sunghoon had done a little digging after the football incident. Nothing crazy. Just… a casual scroll through Instagram. And maybe a few archived posts. Some comments. A look at mutuals. Purely for research.

Yeonjun was a third-year business major. A senior. Popular. Handsome. And according to a few posts Sunghoon definitely did not save—someone who changed girlfriends like he changed outfits.

He didn’t like it.

He didn’t like him.

Not for you.

But what did he know?

He looked down, turning a page in his textbook. Not my problem, he chanted in his head.

Definitely not.

—

Sunghoon stood in the apartment lobby, one hand tucked in his coat pocket, the other holding your usual coffee order. He checked his phone for the time, glanced toward the elevator—then froze.

You stepped out, smile already bright, your phone in one hand and the hem of your dress held lightly in the other. It was the prettiest thing he’d ever seen you wear—soft fabric that fell just above your knees, cinched slightly at the waist, the color making your skin glow. Your hair was styled, subtle makeup dusted across your cheeks, and your lips were curved in that effortless way that made it suddenly very hard to breathe.

You looked… gorgeous.

His heart did something stupid in his chest, but he quickly cleared his throat and looked away, pretending to be fascinated by the vending machine.

“How do I look?” you asked, voice playful.

He didn’t meet your eyes. “The same,” he muttered.

“Oh,” you said quietly. “Do I?”

You sighed, and he heard the disappointment in it—saw the way your shoulders dropped just slightly.

Guilt hit him instantly.

“In a good way,” he added quickly, almost too quickly.

You blinked. “Huh?”

He finally looked at you, then down at the coffee he was still holding. “You look… pretty today.”

He cleared his throat and shoved the cup toward you before you could say anything else. Then he turned and started walking first, trying to escape the inevitable teasing.

But it didn’t come.

Instead, you smiled behind your cup and jogged up to walk beside him.

“Why are you dressed like that?” he asked after a few beats of silence.

“My date with Yeonjun’s today,” you said with a grin.

His step faltered for a split second. “You like him that much?”

You shrugged. “I don’t know about like, but… it’s just—I’ve never been asked out before.”

You tilted your head as you said it, your voice soft. Honest.

Sunghoon frowned. “I’m surprised.”

“What’s so surprising?” you laughed. “You’ve met me. Everyone’s either calling me loud or annoying.”

“Isn’t that what’s so charming about you?”

The words slipped out before he could stop them.

You turned to him, eyes wide, mouth parting. “Did you just—compliment me?”

“No,” he said immediately, gaze fixed ahead like it never happened.

You didn’t press it.

You just smiled again, even softer this time, and walked beside him like nothing had changed.

But for Sunghoon… everything had.

—-

The date started off… nice. Not mind-blowing. Not movie-level magical. But nice.

Yeonjun took you to a rooftop café near campus—fairy lights strung across the ceiling, soft music humming under the chatter. He pulled your chair out like a gentleman, complimented your dress, and told you you looked beautiful in the golden hour light. You laughed, cheeks warm, nerves fluttering. You weren’t used to this. To being seen.

“You know,” he said between sips of his coffee, “I heard you got into the business faculty because of some competition?”

You nodded, a little surprised. “Yeah. The Young Entrepreneurs’ thing in my final year.”

“That’s so impressive,” he said, leaning forward with a glint in his eye. “You must have had a really solid proposal. What was it about?”

You blinked. “Um… a sustainable student-run café model. With profit-sharing incentives and local sourcing.”

Yeonjun’s smile widened. “That’s genius. Seriously. Are you using it for any of your current modules?”

You hesitated. “Well… sort of. I’m reworking the model for this semester’s proposal project.”

He nodded slowly. “Wow. You must be at the top of your class already.”

There was a pause. You tried to smile, but something twisted in your gut. He kept asking—about the proposal, your outline, your ideas. Details most people would only bring up if they were in your group, or at least interested in the topic.

You excused yourself to go to the bathroom. The second the door closed behind you, you leaned against the sink, staring at yourself in the mirror. Something about this didn’t feel right. You couldn’t place it, but the way he kept circling back to your work felt… off.

When you returned, Yeonjun was all smiles again. Charming. Sweet. As if nothing had happened. As if he hadn’t just gently interrogated you for thirty minutes under the glow of fairy lights.

You tried to shake it off.

The next day, your phone stayed quiet. And the day after that. And the one after that, too.

No texts. No calls. No explanation.

Yeonjun ghosted you. Completely. Like the date never happened. Like you never happened.

You told yourself it didn’t matter. That it wasn’t like you were in love with him. That it was just one date. One boy.

But it still stung.

It wasn’t about Yeonjun, not really. It was about what it made you wonder.

Maybe you were hard to like. Maybe you were too loud. Or too awkward. Maybe you talked too much, or didn’t say the right things. Maybe you weren’t pretty enough. Or cool enough. Or quiet enough.

He smiled at you. Told you you were smart. Sweet. Pretty. And still—he left. Without a word.

And it made you wonder if all the things people always said about you were true. If deep down, you were too much of everything… and not enough of anything.

You didn’t even like Yeonjun like that, not really. But being left behind like you didn’t matter—that part hurt more than you'd ever admit out loud.

Especially when all you did was try to be yourself.

Then came the worst part.

You were working on a different assignment, digging through your laptop for a reference doc when you realized… your final business proposal was gone.

Completely gone.

You stared at the empty folder for a long, frozen second. Then searched again. And again. You turned the whole desktop inside out, but the file wasn’t there.

Panic bloomed in your chest. You didn’t delete it. You never would.

Desperate, you made your way to the engineering block where your friend Heeseung was camped out, headphones around his neck and an energy drink half-empty beside him.

You dropped beside him and wordlessly shoved your laptop in front of him.

“I think my file’s gone,” you muttered. “Like—gone gone.”

Heeseung frowned, pulling the laptop toward him. Fingers flying across the keyboard. You sat still, breath caught in your throat.

After a few minutes, he leaned back in his chair.

“It says here your laptop’s last file access was through a thumbdrive. Someone plugged one in, moved your business proposal, then took it out.”

You stared at him.

“What?” you said. Your voice barely above a whisper.

He clicked again, tilting the screen. “Time stamp says it happened the day before yesterday. Around 8:42 PM.”

Your mind flicked back.

Yeonjun. That was the night of your date.

No. No way. He wouldn’t— He couldn’t—

But the timing fit. The questions. The ghosting.

No. No fucking way.

—

You were pissed.

You wiped the counters with a little too much force, angrily scrubbing at invisible stains like they personally betrayed you. The blender hadn’t even been used today, but you cleaned it twice. You huffed. You sighed. You muttered curses under your breath while flinging dishrags and slamming cabinet doors just a bit harder than necessary.

Sunghoon stood at the sink, quietly washing mugs like you were a rabid animal he didn’t want to startle.

“I—” he started.

You grunted.

“You—”

You sighed.

He blinked. You hadn’t let him get out a full sentence all shift. At this point, you were acting like him, and he was the one trying to initiate conversation.

It was terrifying.

Thirty minutes of silence passed before you finally spoke.

“You know what I hate about men?”

Sunghoon froze mid-dry. He glanced down at his own very male hands. Great. He was framed by default.

“You people,” you said, voice rising, “and your terrible innate sense of justice.”

You slammed the rag down onto the counter. “Stealing a person’s work? Pfft. How stupid do you have to fucking be?!”

Sunghoon stayed quiet, lips pressed into a thin line. He had no idea what you were going on about—only that your date with Yeonjun clearly didn’t go well.

He opened his mouth to say something, but you waved a wet dishcloth in his face like a white flag of fury.

“And you know what else?” you went on, eyes blazing. “You people are just little gremlins who take. And take. And take.”

You let out another heavy sigh, leaning against the counter like you were carrying the weight of all modern betrayal.

“And for what?!”

Your voice hit a pitch so sharp that Sunghoon actually flinched. He snapped upright like you’d physically struck him.

“I’m guessing the date didn’t go so well?” he offered carefully.

“He stole my business proposal.”

Sunghoon paused. “…What do you mean?”

You exhaled through your nose like a dragon mid-breakdown, pacing the space behind the counter as you told him everything. The date. The weird questions. The missing file. The thumb drive. Heeseung’s diagnosis. The awful, dawning realization.

By the time you were finished, Sunghoon just stood there—speechless. Stunned.

“He’s an… asshole,” he said finally, slow and deliberate, like he needed to taste each word before letting it out.

“Yuhuh,” you mumbled, flopping into the stool behind the register and dragging your hands down your face. “What am I gonna do? The deadline’s on Friday. I spent two weeks on that thing. I’m screwed.”

Sunghoon reached for the industrial bag of coffee beans under the counter, tearing it open like this was a normal Tuesday. “Well, it’s not like you can sneak into his house and steal his laptop back.”

You froze.

“…Come again?”

Sunghoon paused, one hand still buried in the bag. “No. That was just a comment. Not an idea.”

“But a good one.” You turned toward him slowly, a little too bright. A little too smiley.

He narrowed his eyes. “No.”

“Please.”

“No.”

“You have to help me.”

“Why me?!”

“Because you gave me the idea!”

Sunghoon sighed. Loudly. Dramatically. Like he already knew he was going to give in but had to fight for the sake of his pride.

“You’re lucky I don’t believe in karma,” he muttered.

You grinned, victory written all over your face. “So that’s a yes?”

—

It was 3:07AM when Sunghoon found himself walking through a quiet residential street, questioning every decision that had brought him to this point.

The address you’d sent him earlier lit up on his screen. He shoved his hands deeper into his coat pockets, exhaling into the chilly night, when—

“Psst!”

He turned his head toward a cluster of trees—and nearly jumped out of his skin.

You were crouched behind a bush, donned in an all-black ensemble: black beanie, oversized black hoodie, black jeans, and…

“Slippers?” he blinked.

You grinned, proud. “I see you noticed the vibe. I’m dressed up as a burglar.”

Sunghoon stared. “…Isn’t that a little on the nose?”

“Isn’t it cute?” you whispered, excited. “I got it all on sale just now.”

“At what? A Target for burglars?”

You swatted his chest with the back of your hand, ignoring the way he flinched with a low sigh.

“There,” you said, pointing toward the modest two-story house across the street. “That’s his house.”

“Okay, and what’s your—” You swat him again.

“Our plan?” he corrected, exasperated.

You beamed. “Glad you asked. See that room on the second floor? With the string lights and the cracked window?”

He squinted. “Yeah?”

“My intel says that’s his room.”

“…Your intel. You mean, Sunoo?”

“Yes.” You wiggled your brows mysteriously before turning serious. “So. We put up the ladder. I climb. I sneak in. I get the laptop. We disappear.”

“You’re actually insane for this,” he muttered under his breath.

You ignored him, eyes locked on the prize. “The windows are open, and I made sure he’s distracted tonight.”

Sunghoon raised an eyebrow. “How exactly?”

“I texted him from a fake number pretending to be a girl he ghosted last semester. He’s currently having a breakdown about his ‘reputation.’ I give us twenty minutes.”

He stared at you like you’d grown a second head.

And then he sighed. Deep. Long. Existential.

Is this worth it? He thought to himself.

He glanced down at you again—eyes full of unhinged determination, your hoodie sleeves bunched at your wrists, that tiny pout on your lips as you tried to judge the ladder distance.

God. You looked ridiculous. And cute.

So yeah. It was worth it.

“…Let’s do this,” he said.

You grinned like the gremlin you were. “I knew you liked me.”

He rolled his eyes, cheeks just a little too warm. “Regretting this already.”

But he followed you anyway.

—

You set the ladder against the side of the house like you’d done this before. Sunghoon, meanwhile, stood beside it with the stiff posture of someone definitely not okay with committing a crime at 3:15AM.

You looked back at him. “Hold it steady, okay?”

“Just… for the record,” he muttered, “this is breaking and entering.”

“I prefer the term justice retrieval.”

He sighed so hard you thought his soul left his body. “Just don’t fall and die. Please.”

You winked. “Aw, you care.”

“No, I just don’t want to explain to the police why you’re dressed like a criminal and wearing slippers.”

You began to climb.

The first few steps were fine—until one of your slippers nearly slipped right off.

“Oh, fuck—” you hissed, gripping the ladder.

“Do you need to wear those?” Sunghoon whisper-yelled from below, clutching the base of the ladder like his life depended on it.

“They’re comfy!”

“They’re a hazard.”

You ignored him, determined, as you reached the second-floor window. The breeze fluttered through the half-open pane, moonlight pooling gently across Yeonjun’s empty room. His laptop sat on the desk, closed. Glowing faintly.

Target acquired.

You carefully pushed the window open wider and swung one leg through.

Sunghoon watched from below, jaw tight, muttering to himself like a man saying his last prayers. “This is how I go down. Helping a girl in bunny slippers commit theft.”

You managed to slide inside without knocking anything over. Heart pounding. Hands slightly shaking.

You tiptoed across the carpet, grabbed the laptop, and slipped it into your drawstring bag like the world's most underqualified spy.

You were halfway back out the window when—

“HEY! WHO’S THERE?!”

A voice rang out from somewhere downstairs.

Your eyes widened. You turned to look down at Sunghoon, who was still grabbing the bottom of the ladder.

“Go, go, go—!” you whispered harshly.

You clambered down the ladder as fast as you could, nearly taking Sunghoon out as you reached the bottom. He caught your wrist before you could stumble, pulling you into a sprint without a word.

Your feet pounded against the pavement—slippers slapping, bag bouncing, hearts racing. Behind you, a door slammed open.

“HEY!” Yeonjun’s voice echoed into the street.

Sunghoon didn’t slow down. “Left!” he hissed.

You turned sharply, ducking into a narrow alley between two quiet apartment buildings. The shadows swallowed you both instantly.

“Over here—quick,” he muttered, yanking you behind a large trash bin and squeezing into the tight space beside you. It was small. Barely enough for one person, let alone two.

You pressed your back to the wall, chest heaving, adrenaline thrumming in your ears.

Sunghoon’s face was too close. Way too close.

You turned to whisper something, only to notice the way his profile was still partially visible, his cheek nearly poking out past the safety of the shadow. Panic surged through you as Yeonjun’s footsteps grew louder.

Without thinking, you reached out and grabbed Sunghoon’s face—gentle but urgent—and pulled him toward you, forcing him deeper into the corner.

He blinked, startled, his hands landing on either side of you to steady himself.

And suddenly—everything stopped.

His breath hit yours. Warm. Shaky. His nose nearly brushing yours. Your fingertips still on his cheek. You could feel the heat rising between your bodies, your heart hammering against your ribcage.

You were so focused on listening for footsteps that you didn’t notice the way he was looking at you.

His eyes were locked on yours, soft and unblinking. Like you were something precious. Something fragile. Something he wasn’t supposed to want but couldn’t help reaching for.

But then—he cleared his throat.

You blinked, still slightly dazed, and smiled—completely unaware of how close you were until you finally pulled away.

He stepped back the moment you did.

You laughed, breathless, heart still sprinting inside your chest. “I can’t believe we just did that.”

“I can’t believe you dragged me into it,” he said, grinning despite himself.

Your laughter echoed down the alley, light and free and bubbling with triumph.

And even as the moment passed, and the footsteps faded, and you both stumbled back out into the quiet night—

Sunghoon couldn’t stop thinking about how your hands had felt on his skin.

—

Sunghoon unlocked the door and stepped into the apartment as if nothing about the situation was even remotely unusual. You followed close behind, hoodie pulled low over your head, black beanie snug, sleeves covering your hands, and—most incriminating of all—a pair of fuzzy bunny slippers completing the look. If anyone had seen you on the way over, they might’ve called the cops.

Inside, the living room was dimly lit, the glow of the TV casting flickering light across Jake and his girlfriend, who were curled up under a blanket, halfway through a rom-com rerun and clearly deep into their peaceful little couple night. That peace shattered the moment Jake looked up and saw you.

He froze with a chip halfway to his mouth. His girlfriend stiffened beside him. Their gazes locked on your all-black ensemble, eyes trailing from your hoodie to your slippers, as if unsure whether to scream, laugh, or call for help.

“Sunghoon,” Jake said slowly, narrowing his eyes. “Why is there a burglar in our house?”

You smiled brightly, completely unfazed. “Hi!”

Jake blinked, turning to Sunghoon for confirmation. Sunghoon simply sighed, kicked his shoes off, and muttered under his breath, “Not how I wanted you to meet her.”

“You brought her to the house,” Jake said, still staring. “At 3 a.m. Dressed like that.”

You shrugged, strolling toward the desk and pulling Yeonjun’s laptop from your drawstring bag. “We’re breaking into a computer, not the house. Totally different vibe.”

Jake’s girlfriend leaned forward. “Are those bunny slippers?”

You nodded proudly. “They’re for stealth.”

“Right,” she said, blinking. “Very… quiet.”

Sunghoon dropped his keys on the table with a sigh, already preparing himself for the chaos about to unfold.

“She’s trying to hack into a guy’s laptop,” he said, walking to the kitchen like he needed caffeine and therapy at once. “Don’t ask.”

“Why are you helping her?!” Jake asked, scandalized.

Sunghoon opened the fridge and grabbed a bottle of water. “I’m not.”

“You literally held the ladder for me twenty minutes ago,” you called over your shoulder.

Jake choked. “Ladder? What ladder?!”

You turned around, laptop booted up, the login screen glowing faintly. “The one I used to climb through a second-story window.”

Jake gaped. His girlfriend quietly set the chip bag down, her expression somewhere between horrified and fascinated.

“I love her,” she whispered to Jake.

“I fear her,” Jake whispered back.

Sunghoon leaned against the kitchen counter, arms crossed. He looked at you—messy hair peeking out from under your beanie, eyes focused, face lit by the laptop screen. Completely unbothered by the scene you’d walked into.

And for some reason, despite all the madness, he still thought you looked kind of cute.

“God help us all,” Sunghoon muttered.

By the time you cracked into the laptop, Jake and his girlfriend had already retreated into their bedroom. Sunghoon had closed the door behind them with a roll of his eyes and a muttered, “That’s just code for they’re about to smash, so we should probably play some music or something.”

You’d snorted at the time, but now the silence in the room felt heavy.

The soft hum of the laptop was the only sound between you, sitting shoulder to shoulder on the floor next to Sunghoon’s desk. He sat beside you, legs stretched out, arms loosely folded, eyes flicking over the screen with quiet interest—until he glanced at your expression and realized you’d stopped scrolling.

“What is it?” he asked.

You didn’t answer.

Your eyes were fixed on the folder open in front of you. Document after document lined the screen, all titled neatly with class names and—oddly—names. Different ones.

Mina. Elly. Jisoo. Grace.

And then… your name.

You clicked on it. Your proposal opened, just slightly reworded, your diagrams rearranged—but it was yours. Every piece of it.

You stared at the screen and crossed your arms tightly, a cold knot settling in your chest. The adrenaline was gone now. In its place was something much heavier. You felt small. Humiliated.

“I was just another one,” you muttered.

Sunghoon looked over, brows drawing together.

“Just another girl he got close to for an assignment,” you said, voice flat. “Was I that boring? That forgettable? Was I really so—unlikable—that the only time a guy showed me attention, it was because he needed my fucking work?”

You laughed bitterly, shaking your head as the words tumbled out, unfiltered. “God. What is wrong with me? What did I think was gonna happen? That someone like him actually liked someone like me?”

You let your arms drop and folded your hands over your face, pressing your palms into your eyes.

“I’m so stupid,” you whispered.

Sunghoon didn’t say anything at first. He just sat beside you, close but not touching, eyes fixed on the floor like he was trying to figure out the right thing to say and coming up completely empty.

You wiped at your face with the back of your sleeve, but it was no use—your mascara had already betrayed you, running in streaks down your cheeks. You were crying harder than you realized, tears silent but relentless.

You turned to him, half-laughing, half-sobbing. “So you’re just gonna stay quiet?”

He looked up, startled. His gaze met yours, and for a moment he forgot how to breathe. You looked—God, you looked like a mess. Eyes red, lashes damp, your hoodie sleeves pushed up unevenly, and cheeks stained with tears.

And somehow, he thought you’d never looked prettier.

You weren’t pretending. Weren’t smiling for the sake of others or hiding behind jokes. You were just… you. Raw and hurting and real.

He cleared his throat and scratched the back of his neck. “What do you want me to say? I’m not good at comforting people.”

“I don’t know,” you sniffled. “Say he’s an asshole or something.”

Sunghoon shrugged a little. “Well, he is.”

You looked at him, still waiting, unsure if that was all he had in him. He looked like he was about to say more, and then—he did.

“He is an asshole,” Sunghoon repeated, louder this time. “I don’t know why you even agreed to go out with him.”

You opened your mouth, confused. “I—”

“You’re loud,” he said suddenly. “You’re pretentious. You’re annoying—”

Your eyes widened, and you flinched.

“What—”

“You interrupt people all the time,” he continued, voice rising with something that wasn’t quite anger—something messier. “You talk too much. You never stop moving. You’re chaotic and stubborn and you don’t think things through—”

Tears were streaming down your face again, this time faster. You looked away, chest tightening.

But then his voice softened.

“...And you’re also caring. Kind. God, you’re the only person I know who goes to the store at four in the morning to feed stray cats in an alley every two days.”

You blinked. Slowly turned back to him.

Sunghoon exhaled, running a hand through his hair.

“You’re funny. You’re thoughtful. You remember the little things people say even when they forget they said them. Anyone would be lucky to be your friend… let alone always be with you.”

He looked at you then, eyes steady and full of something warm. Something aching.

“I’m lucky,” he said, quieter now. “I’m the luckiest bastard alive, as long as I get to stand next to you and call you my friend.”

You stared at him, heart pounding, lips parted, breath caught somewhere in your chest.

Because for the first time… it felt like he wasn’t just calling you a friend.

—

Maybe it was the crying. Maybe it was the emotional whiplash of the night—the heist, the heartbreak, the sudden unraveling of every thought you’d kept tucked neatly away. Maybe it was the way Sunghoon had looked at you when he said he was lucky.

But either way, you couldn’t keep your eyes open.

One moment you were sitting beside him, the warmth of his words still lingering in your chest like a quiet heartbeat. The next, the world had blurred softly at the edges, and your body gave out beneath the weight of it all.

So now, you were on his back.

He’d barely hesitated before lifting you, tucking your arms around his shoulders and hooking his arms under your knees. You didn’t even protest—you were too tired to argue, too comforted by the way he held you like he’d done it before.

Your cheek rested against his shoulder, eyes fluttering shut. You felt the steady rise and fall of his chest as he walked, the rhythmic sway of his steps, the subtle hum of a tune you didn’t recognize—but it was sweet, and low, and made your heartbeat slow down.

Sunghoon didn’t say anything. He just walked.

Past the quiet streets. Past flickering streetlamps. Past your favorite corner store and the alley you fed cats in and the bus stop where he first bought you coffee.

He didn’t complain about your weight. Didn’t tease. Didn’t say a word about the mascara smudged against the fabric of his coat.

You didn’t know if he knew you were still half-awake, but when he gently adjusted your leg, you heard him murmur so softly you almost missed it:

“You’re not stupid.”

Your heart ached.

And then you let sleep take you.

Because if there was ever a place to rest— It was here. On his back.

—

You woke up warm.

Too warm, actually. Wrapped in layers you didn’t remember putting on. The hoodie you had on last night clung loosely to your body, sleeves pushed halfway up your arms, and your slippers were neatly placed by the side of your bed—something you definitely hadn’t done.

You sat up slowly, blinking at the sunlight streaming through your curtains. Your room was quiet. Peaceful. And completely unfamiliar in the sense that… you had no idea how you got there.

You rubbed your eyes, your body aching in the most confusing way—like you’d run a marathon, cried through an entire movie, and fought off an emotional breakdown all at once. Oh. Right.

The heist. The yelling. The crying.

Sunghoon.

You swung your legs off the bed, still a little dazed, and padded out of your room.

That’s when you smelled it—eggs. Butter. Something slightly burnt, but in a way that made your chest tighten.

You turned the corner and froze.

Sunghoon was in your kitchen.

His hair was messier than usual, falling into his eyes as he stood in front of the stove, flipping something that might have once been a pancake. He was wearing the same hoodie from the night before, sleeves pushed up, a spatula in one hand, your mismatched cat-print apron tied haphazardly around his waist.

You blinked, brain short-circuiting. “What the hell…?”

He glanced over his shoulder. “You’re awake.”

“I…” You looked down at yourself. “How did I get home?”

“You passed out,” he said simply, turning back to the stove. “I carried you.”

You stared at him. “You carried me?”

“Like a princess,” he deadpanned. “Except you drooled on my shoulder.”

You gasped. “I did not.”

“You did.”

You groaned and dropped your head into your hands. “This is so embarrassing.”

He flipped another pancake—slightly more edible this time—and shrugged. “You needed the sleep.”

You looked up at him again, softer this time. “Why are you making breakfast?”

He didn’t look at you. “Felt like you could use something warm.”

You felt your throat tighten. You wanted to say something, but the words sat too heavy on your tongue. So instead, you just stood there in the doorway, watching him quietly.

And for the first time in what felt like weeks—you felt safe.

Breakfast passed in silence.

Not awkward, not heavy—just... silent. The kind of silence that settled like sunlight through the window, warm and gentle and unspoken.

You sat across from him at your little dining table, your knees brushing every so often beneath the wood, your plate mostly untouched. He ate like nothing was different, like he hadn’t carried you home last night, like he didn’t make pancakes in your kitchen while wearing your cat-print apron.

And yet, something had shifted.

You kept stealing glances at him in between tiny sips of orange juice. The way his lashes dipped as he focused on his food. The subtle curve of his mouth as he chewed. The way his hair curled just slightly at the ends when he didn’t style it.

Your heart fluttered.

Your stomach twisted—but not in the way it did when you were nervous or sad. This was... different. Lighter. Warmer.

What is this? you thought. This weird, floaty feeling in your chest. This little ache every time you looked at him.

Sunghoon glanced up, catching your gaze.

You quickly looked down at your plate.

He didn’t say anything for a moment—just reached for his cup, took a sip, then set it down with a quiet clink.

“Go take a shower and get dressed,” he said casually.

You blinked. “Huh?”

He leaned back in his chair. “You heard me.”

“But it’s Saturday. I don’t have any—”

“I’m taking you out.”

You stared at him. “Out? Like… out out?”

“Let’s go,” he said again, nonchalantly, like it was no big deal. Like he hadn’t just casually turned your whole world upside down with three words.

You opened your mouth, then closed it. You felt the heat rush to your cheeks.

“Oh,” you said. Quiet. Surprised.

Sunghoon stood and collected your plate like it was the most normal thing in the world. “I’m not giving you the plan. Just go shower.”

And then he walked off toward the sink, sleeves rolled, calm as ever.

You sat there for another ten seconds, frozen, heart racing.

What is this feeling?

And why did you suddenly never want it to stop?

You stood in front of the mirror, adjusting the hem of your yellow chiffon babydoll dress for the third time. It swayed lightly around your thighs, soft and airy, the color bright against your skin. You’d tied your hair into two loose pigtails, hoping it came off cute and not childish—just… soft. Sweet. Something that might look good next to him.

Sunghoon, with his wardrobe of tailored coats and muted sweaters. All clean lines and high-end simplicity. He never had to try, and he always looked perfect.

You hoped—just a little—that standing beside him, you wouldn’t look too out of place.

You took one last look in the mirror, then stepped out of your room.

He was sitting on your couch, one leg crossed over the other, scrolling casually through his phone like he hadn’t just changed your entire Saturday morning. He looked up when he heard your footsteps.

His eyes flicked up to meet yours.

Then back down to his phone.

No double-take. No compliment. Not even a blink.

“Let’s go,” he said, standing up with a stretch.

You stared at him, jaw tight. “Stupid idiot,” you muttered under your breath.

“What was that?” he asked, turning toward you, brows raised.

You plastered on a fake smile so quickly it nearly hurt. “Nothing.”

He watched you for a beat, unreadable as always, then looked away.

“You look pretty,” he said softly—so quiet it was almost drowned out by the rustle of his coat sleeve as he reached for his keys.

You blinked.

But before you could respond, he was already walking toward the door, acting like he hadn’t said anything at all.

Typical Sunghoon.

Your heart fluttered anyway.

—

“Are we there yet?” you sighed for what had to be the fifteenth time.

Sunghoon didn’t look at you—just kept walking ahead with that maddeningly steady pace. “Almost,” he said.

“You said that two hours ago.”

“Mm.”

Just a hum. No explanation. No sympathy.

You followed anyway, flats sinking further into the mud with every step. You’d taken two buses, a ten-minute train ride, and now you were walking deep into a part of the park you didn’t recognize at all. Far from your neighborhood. Far from everything.

You glanced down at your shoes, now spotted with dirt and regret. This dress, the hair, the whole effort—you were starting to think it had all been a mistake.

Then Sunghoon’s pace suddenly picked up. His eyes lit up, focused on something just beyond the next turn.

“There,” he said softly.

And before you could ask what he meant, he reached for your hand—sudden, unthinking—and pulled you with him.

Your breath caught in your throat.

His hand was warm, firm around yours, fingers interlaced like it had always been that way.

You didn’t say a word. Just followed.

He led you past a line of trees, through tall grass, and down a narrow slope. Then finally—you saw it.

A small, glimmering pond hidden in a clearing. The water was still, mirror-like, catching the soft gold of the late afternoon sun. Willow trees bent low over the banks, their branches swaying gently in the breeze. Wildflowers bloomed in quiet clusters along the edge—lilac, yellow, soft blue—and dragonflies skimmed the water’s surface, their wings catching the light like tiny stained-glass windows. It was quiet. Peaceful. Untouched.

Like something out of a fairytale.

You stared, mouth slightly parted. “How’d you even—how’d you find this place?”

Sunghoon didn’t answer right away. He just stood beside you, still holding your hand loosely.

“When I was younger,” he said after a moment, voice softer than usual, “my family came here for a vacation. My sister and I snuck out one morning and found this by accident.”

You glanced over at him. He wasn’t looking at you—just at the water, like it still held something sacred.

“I used to take her here when she cried,” he continued, “whenever she got scolded by our mum. I don’t know... it always calmed her down.”

You smiled, quietly listening.

“Why’d you bring me here?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

He laughed under his breath, the sound light, almost shy.

“It’s silly,” he said, eyes still on the pond. “But last night, when you were crying…”

You looked at him then—really looked at him.

His expression was unreadable, caught between memory and now. He glanced at you finally, voice quieter.

“You reminded me of my childhood. Of her. You looked so… innocent.” He gave a faint, crooked smile. “And maybe I thought this place would cheer you up.”

Your chest ached in the most unexpected way.

Not from sadness. Not even from joy.

Just from the quiet knowing that someone had thought of you that deeply.

You looked down again at your joined hands.

Still holding. Still warm.

The two of you made your way closer to the water, weaving past the low-hanging branches until you found a flat patch of grass near the edge. You sat down carefully, smoothing the fabric of your dress beneath you, your feet dangling just above the still surface of the pond.

Sunghoon dropped beside you, resting his arms lazily on his knees, legs slightly apart, sneakers almost brushing the water. The breeze was cooler here, brushing your cheeks with the scent of wildflowers and grass. The only sounds were the rustle of leaves, the distant hum of cicadas, and the quiet ripples of the pond.

He didn’t speak.

Of course he didn’t.

You’d grown used to his silences. They weren’t cold, or distant—not really. They were just… Sunghoon. Thoughtful. Still. The kind of quiet that made you want to fill the space, not because it was empty, but because he made you feel safe enough to.

So you talked.

About everything. About nothing.

You told him about the weird dreams you’d been having lately, about the girl in your class who kept trying to copy your notes, about how you once tried to bake cookies for your primary school crush and forgot the sugar. You pointed out shapes in the clouds. Gave names to the dragonflies. Talked about the playlist you made for a fictional road trip you hadn’t taken yet.

And Sunghoon?

He just listened.

Not distracted. Not fake-listening like some people did, nodding along while their mind was elsewhere.

He listened with his whole body. Slight tilts of his head. The way he’d glance at you when he thought you weren’t looking. The quiet little hums when something made him laugh. The barely-there smile when you said something completely ridiculous.

You kicked your feet gently above the water.

“Sorry,” you said at some point, half-laughing. “I talk too much when you’re quiet.”

He shook his head slowly, still looking out over the pond. “I like it.”

You blinked. “You do?”

“You talk like you’re alive,” he said softly.

You turned to look at him.

His expression was unreadable, gaze fixed somewhere across the water. But his voice—his voice sounded like truth.

Your heart beat a little faster. You looked down at your hands in your lap, trying to will the blush away.

The two of you had been sitting there for a while now, feet dangling over the edge of the pond, sunlight dancing on the surface of the water. You’d done most of the talking—naturally—and Sunghoon had just sat beside you, quietly listening like always, eyes half-lidded from the warmth, arms resting lazily over his knees.

You were halfway through a very dramatic retelling of the vending machine incident from earlier in the week when something soft landed on your head.

You paused, blinking. “Did something just…?”

Before you could reach up to check, Sunghoon leaned in.

His hand came up slowly, fingertips brushing through your hair with careful precision. You stilled completely. He was close—closer than usual—and the moment stretched, your voice caught somewhere in your throat.

His face hovered just inches from yours, eyes focused as he plucked a single pink petal from your hair. The breeze tugged at your dress, your heart did a weird little somersault, and your brain short-circuited trying to process the proximity.

You barely dared to breathe. His breath brushed your cheek, warm and soft. He didn’t move away.

And somehow, your mind made the leap.

Oh my god. He’s going to kiss me.

Your heart leapt. You shut your eyes without thinking, every nerve in your body suddenly very, very aware of the shape of his mouth and the way your knees were touching.

But instead of a kiss, you got—

A throat clear.

You opened your eyes to find Sunghoon leaning back like nothing happened, examining the flower petal with the clinical interest of someone assessing a grocery receipt. Like he hadn’t just completely hijacked your central nervous system.

You blinked at him, heat flooding your face.

He glanced up, clearly fighting back a smirk. “Did you just—”

“No.” Your answer was immediate. Loud. Defensive.

“I didn’t even finish my senten—”

“Shut up.” You whirled on him, hands flying dramatically as the full force of your embarrassment took over. “You scooted so close to me, and you leaned in and, and I—I didn’t know what to expect, okay?!”

Sunghoon’s eyes sparkled, lips twitching. “I was taking a petal out of your hair.”

“You took your sweet time, that’s what you did,” you huffed, arms flailing now. “God, you and your–cold–cold boy exterior. I can’t read your face! You could be about to kiss me or about to tell me my card got declined, and I wouldn’t know the difference.”

He let out a soft laugh, the kind that made your chest ache a little. “You’re being dramatic.”

“Excuse me for assuming I was about to have a romantic moment by a magical pond with a boy who—”

He reached forward suddenly, both hands cupping your cheeks, and you froze mid-rant.

The world slowed.

His palms were warm. Gentle. Holding your face like you were made of something delicate. You couldn’t speak. Could barely breathe.

Then his voice came, low and steady.

“Do you want me to?”

Your words died in your throat. Your heart thundered somewhere behind your ribs.

You stared at him, wide-eyed, unsure what to say.

He didn’t press. Just looked at you with that infuriating, calm expression—the kind that made it impossible to tell if he was teasing you or being completely serious.

And somehow, that only made you fall harder.

You opened your mouth, then closed it again.

“I—” you tried.

Sunghoon waited.

You panicked. “You took way too long with the petal.”

He laughed. This time, fully. And God, if your heart hadn’t already betrayed you, that laugh would've done it.

“Okay,” he said eventually, letting go of your cheeks like he hadn’t just gently cradled your entire soul.

You immediately buried your face in your hands.

You hated him. You adored him. You had no idea what this was.

But you kind of never wanted it to end.

—

The walk back was quiet.

Not the comfortable kind that usually settled between you and Sunghoon. This one was thick. Tense. A silence so loud it felt like it echoed.

You hadn’t spoken a word since leaving the pond.

He’d glanced at you a few times as you walked side by side, but you kept your gaze stubbornly forward, arms crossed, cheeks still warm from earlier. You couldn’t stop replaying the moment in your head—his hands on your face, that question, your silence, the way your heart had practically stopped beating altogether.

And now, here you were. Standing outside your apartment. Streetlights glowing gold above you. Crickets chirping. The air cool and still.

He hadn’t said anything either.

Not until now.

Sunghoon cleared his throat softly. “You’ve been quiet since the park.”

You let out a small, unbothered-sounding tch, keeping your eyes fixed on the sidewalk.

What a stupid question. He knew why.

You were embarrassed. Flustered. Emotionally compromised and desperately trying to hold it together. And he just stood there, calm and collected, as if he hadn’t casually almost kissed you and then walked away like it was nothing.

You turned toward him, fire rising again. “You—!”

You raised your hands, ready to start waving them mid-rant like you always did. But before a single word left your mouth, Sunghoon stepped forward and grabbed both your wrists gently, stopping them midair.

You blinked.

“What are you—?”

And then he leaned in.

Soft. Quick. Certain.

He pressed a kiss to your lips—just a brief, featherlight touch that made your breath catch and your thoughts scatter in all directions.

It was simple. Barely a second long. But it knocked the wind out of you.

“There,” he said, voice low and calm, as he pulled back.

You stared at him, completely frozen. Mouth slightly parted. Eyes wide.

“Y-You—” you stammered, hands still in his.

Sunghoon didn’t flinch. “You were being loud in your head. I could hear it.”

“I—That’s not—You don’t just—!”

He raised an eyebrow, completely unfazed. “Feel better now?”

Your heart was a mess. Your brain was fuzz. But still… you nodded.

He let go of your hands slowly, his touch lingering just a second longer than necessary.

“Goodnight,” he said, and turned to walk away.

You stood there, stunned, watching him go. And somewhere between your heart trying to reboot and your hand brushing against your lips…

—-

The library was quiet, save for the occasional turning of pages and the distant hum of the printer.

You were trying to focus. Really, you were. But it was hard.

Not because of your thesis—which was enough of a monster on its own—but because of him. Sitting right next to you.

Sunghoon.

The boy who kissed you once. Who sent you home after and said nothing. The boy who still picked you up for class, still shared his earbuds, still split convenience store snacks with you like nothing had changed. And maybe it hadn’t. Not really.

You weren’t kissing everyday. You weren’t dating. There were no labels. Just… this strange, sweet in-between. And it was driving you insane.

You’d been hanging out every day, and yet neither of you had brought up the kiss. Not the one by the pond. Not the one on your doorstep.

You were somewhere between friends and more, and he seemed perfectly content to sit in that quiet space—while you were losing your mind wondering what it meant.

You were currently scanning the shelves, trying—and failing—to find a book for your thesis. You swore it was here. The catalogue said it was. But after combing through the aisle three times, you were ready to throw yourself into the return bin.

“Ugh,” you muttered, turning to scan the shelf one more time.

And then, like some book-finding angel, Sunghoon stepped beside you. He reached forward casually, plucked the exact book from the shelf above your head, and handed it to you without a word.

Your jaw dropped. “Are you kidding me?”

You snatched it from his hand, dramatic as ever, and turned to him with wild eyes.

“I’ve been here for twenty minutes! And you—!”

Your hands flew up instinctively, ready to gesticulate in full rant mode when—

He caught them.

Both of them.

Warm fingers wrapping around your wrists, stopping you mid-rant with that infuriatingly calm expression on his face.

And then he leaned in.

And kissed you.

Just like that.

Soft. Steady. No hesitation.

Your breath caught completely. Your brain shut off. The library, the thesis, the confusion—all of it disappeared under the pressure of his lips against yours.

It was over in seconds.

He pulled back like nothing happened, still holding your hands.

“Loud,” he said, voice low and amused.

And then—he let go and walked away.

You stood frozen in the aisle, mouth still parted in disbelief, the book clutched to your chest like it had personally witnessed a crime.

Your heart was pounding. Your face was burning. You were sure your soul had just left your body.

And once again… He didn’t look back.

Typical Sunghoon.

You were unwell.

Absolutely, fully, catastrophically unwell.

Because Sunghoon kissed you again.

In a library.

After handing you a book like it was the most normal thing in the world.

And when you raised your hands—to explain, to demand answers, to yell in three different emotional languages—he just… kissed you. Again. Calmly. Casually. And walked away like it hadn’t just restructured your entire brain.

You tried not to think about it. You really did.

But the moment you sat back down at the table, book open in front of you, and he slid a highlighter across the desk toward you like he hadn’t just emotionally detonated you—

You exploded.

“Okay,” you said, too loudly for a library. “What are we?”

He looked up from his notes, blinking once.

You leaned forward. “Because you kissed me. Twice. And you keep holding my face like I’m a traumatized woodland creature and then walking away before I can process anything.”

He tilted his head, resting his chin on his palm. “So you have been thinking about it.”

You sputtered. “Of course I’ve been thinking about it!”

Sunghoon nodded slowly, flipping to the next page of his notes.

You blinked at him. “Are you ignoring me?”

“I’m studying.”

“I’m spiraling.”

“Noted.”

Your hands flailed.

And just as you raised them again, fully prepared to unleash wave two of your emotional breakdown—

He stood up from his seat, leaned across the table, and kissed you. Right there. Again.

Quick. Soft. On the corner of your mouth this time.

You froze.

“I—” you squeaked.

“You were getting loud again,” he said, sitting back down like he hadn’t just completely ended your speech mid-sentence.

You gawked at him, face on fire. “You can’t just kiss me every time I get dramatic.”

“That’s what you think.”

You opened your mouth. He raised an eyebrow.

You closed it again.

He handed you your highlighter. “Let me know when you’re done with denial.”

You stared at him, heart pounding so hard you could hear it echoing in your skull. He was calm. Unbothered. Absolutely smug.

You hated him.

You wanted to kiss him again.

You highlighted the same sentence seven times just to avoid looking at his stupid perfect face.

—

You were walking home from the library with Sunghoon again. Just like always. Quiet sidewalk, golden streetlights, late-night hum of the city in the background.

Except nothing about it felt normal anymore.

Not after the kisses.

Not after the looks he kept giving you when he thought you weren’t paying attention. Not after your brain had chewed itself into pieces trying to decode what you were to him.

And tonight—you were done pretending you were fine with it.

“I just think,” you said for what felt like the fifth time, voice rising as your steps quickened, “that if you’re gonna keep kissing me, then maybe—and this is wild—I deserve to know what it means!”

Sunghoon didn’t answer. He kept walking beside you, hands in his pockets, face unreadable. Infuriatingly calm.

“And if it doesn’t mean anything, that’s fine,” you added, already lying to yourself. “But then stop doing it! You can’t just weaponize your mouth to shut me up like some human mute button—”

He stopped walking.

You blinked, still mid-rant, too fired up to notice that he’d turned until his fingers wrapped around your wrist and tugged you back—swiftly, gently, deliberately—until your back hit the cold brick wall of the nearest building.

The shock of it knocked the words straight out of your mouth.

“Wha—”

And then he kissed you.

Hard.

No hesitation. No teasing.

His lips found yours in one clean, fluid motion, like he’d been waiting, burning, counting every second leading up to this moment. His hand pressed firmly against the wall beside your head, his body angled toward yours—not pushing, just close. Too close. Close enough that you felt the heat radiating off of him, the weight of everything he hadn’t said.

You didn’t even get the chance to breathe before his other hand slipped to your jaw, tilting your face up slightly—and then his mouth opened against yours, and his tongue slid in. Slow. Confident. Sure.

You gasped softly into him, your fingers gripping the front of his sweater like it was the only thing keeping you from collapsing. And God—he tasted like mint and quiet danger, like late nights and secrets he hadn’t told you yet.

He kissed you like he was trying to memorize your mouth.

Like he wanted you breathless and boneless and ruined in the best way.

And you let him.

You kissed him back like it had been building inside you too, like you’d been waiting for him to break first—waiting for this exact kind of dizzying, spine-melting surrender.

By the time he pulled back, you weren’t sure where you were anymore.

Your chest heaved. Your lips tingled. Your back was still pressed to the wall, legs weak, thoughts tangled.

Sunghoon didn’t move far—just enough to speak, his thumb still brushing softly along your cheek.

“You’re loud,” he murmured, his voice rougher than usual. “But not when you’re kissing me back.”

You couldn’t speak. You couldn’t even glare. Your eyes were still wide and unfocused. Your body felt like it had been struck by lightning wrapped in velvet.

And him?

He just took your hand again like nothing happened.

“Let’s go,” he said, like he hadn’t just absolutely wrecked you against a wall.

You followed.

Stunned. Silent.

And for the first time in your life— You understood exactly why he did that.

Because nothing had ever shut you up like that before.

—

The next morning, Sunghoon was already waiting outside your apartment by the time you stepped out, bleary-eyed and still emotionally unstable from the night before. He stood there with his usual sleepy calmness, one hand in his pocket, the other holding your usual coffee order.

Of course he knew you hadn’t slept.

He hadn’t either.

Because while you were lying awake replaying that kiss over and over again, so was he. He’d tried to read, tried to distract himself—but every time he closed his eyes, all he could feel was you against the wall. Your fingers in his sweater. The way your lips opened under his, soft and wanting. The sound you made when he bit down gently on your lip before pulling away.

He was in trouble.

You walked toward him slowly, eyes puffy, your hoodie a little crooked from sleep. You didn’t say anything—just snatched the coffee from his hand and took three aggressive gulps like it personally wronged you.

“Hmph,” you huffed, before storming three steps ahead of him like an angry little duck.

Sunghoon blinked.

Then he laughed.

God, he was so gone for you.

“Why are you mad?” he asked, catching up easily.

You didn’t look at him. “Because—because you won’t tell me what we are. You keep kissing me every time I get dramatic, and you don’t say anything after, and you won’t tell me if you even like me, and—”

“Don’t you like it when I kiss you, though?” he asked casually, like he wasn’t setting your entire nervous system on fire.

You stumbled. “I—! I—”

He looked far too smug. You hated how good he was at this.

“You can’t just say smug shit like that and make me not want to choke you—”

You didn’t finish. Because just like last time, he moved without warning.

In one sharp, fluid motion, he backed you into the nearest tree, the rough bark grazing your spine as your back hit it with a quiet thud. His hand slid around to the small of your back, pressing you against him, while the other gripped your waist and dragged slowly down to your hip, fingers curving around it possessively.

His mouth was on yours before you could speak. No hesitation this time.

His lips crashed into yours—hot, hungry, open. He tilted his head, deepening it fast, his hand tightening at your waist as he pulled you harder against him. Your gasp disappeared into his mouth.

His tongue slipped past your lips, slow and deliberate. He kissed like he knew exactly what he was doing—like he knew how to pull sound from your throat without a word. His body pinned yours to the tree, firm and steady, his hips brushing into yours just enough to make you lose your balance and grab his sweater for support.

He groaned lowly when you kissed him back, your fingers bunching at his chest, his thumb digging into your side as his mouth moved harder, needier, lips parting, tongue sliding deeper.

And then—he bit down on your bottom lip, just enough pressure to make your breath catch.

“You didn’t stop me,” he murmured, breath warm against your skin.

Your mouth opened. “Because—”

“Because you like it,” he said again, low and certain.

You glared at him. “And what if I do?! At least I’m being honest with my feelings.”

Sunghoon raised a brow. “Are you?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Because you haven’t really told me anything about your feelings,” he said simply.

You threw your hands up. “Is it not clear?!”

You folded your arms, frustration bubbling up.

“Is it not clear that I clearly like you?!”

And just like that—he was silent.

Sunghoon had always been calm, collected, a little unreadable—but something in his expression faltered then. His cool cracked just a little, the tiniest stutter of surprise flickering across his face.

His heart was doing things he would never admit out loud.

Because no matter how smooth he could be, no matter how many times he kissed you like he knew exactly what he was doing—you were the only one who could completely unravel him.

He looked at you, smiling softly.

“Look under your cup.”

You frowned. “What?”

“The cup,” he said. “Turn it over.”

You squinted at him suspiciously, lifting the cup over your head like it owed you answers. And there—scrawled in slightly smudged black marker under the base—was one word, just barely legible in his messy handwriting:

GIRLFRIEND?

Your breath hitched.

Your arms dropped.

You stared at it, then at him.

He stood there with his usual hands-in-pockets posture, pretending to be all calm and collected—but you saw it. The way his ears were just a little too red. The faint twitch of his mouth like he was holding his breath.

You blinked. “You wrote it… on the bottom of a coffee cup?”

“I thought it was romantic,” he said, completely deadpan.

You raised a brow. “You know people usually use, like, their mouths to say these things, right?”

“I figured this way, you’d actually read it instead of yelling over it.”

You paused.

Touche.

“You truly are a man of few words.”

He shrugged. “You use enough for both of us.”

You rolled your eyes—but your grin gave you away.

And then, quietly, you held the cup closer to your chest.

“…Yes,” you muttered.

His lips twitched. “You’re supposed to say it louder.”

You glared. “Don’t push your luck, loverboy.”

He smiled, wide this time. “Too late.”

Before you could react, his hands wrapped around your waist—confident, steady—and he pulled you in all at once. You let out a small yelp, half laugh, arms instinctively catching onto his shoulders as he swept you closer like it was the most natural thing in the world.

And then he kissed you.

His lips pressed into yours like he already knew you’d say yes, like your quiet little “yes” had unlocked something in him. There was no teasing this time, no smirk hiding behind it—just him, kissing you like he meant it.

His grip tightened around your waist, grounding you against him, your body flush to his as his other hand came up to cradle the side of your neck, his thumb brushing just below your ear. You melted into him without a thought, your fingers curling around the back of his sweater, trying to pull him even closer.

You could feel his heartbeat, fast but steady, pressed right against yours.

When he finally pulled back, just barely, his lips hovered over yours—still close enough to steal another breath.

He was brought to you after a raid, his shoulder bleeding and his face pale with pain. Despite the chaos around you, your focus zeroed in on him, and in that moment, everything else seemed to fade away. You worked quickly, cleaning the blood from his injury and applying a bandage, but his gaze never left you.

His lips parted in a faint, strained smile. “I didn’t think I’d be lucky enough to get a nurse like you.”

You chuckled, a soft breath escaping your lips as you kept your eyes on the task at hand. “You’re the lucky one. There are many others waiting for help.”

As you finished, you allowed your eyes to meet his again, taking in the quiet strength in his features. He didn’t flinch or protest, even as pain lanced through him. There was a certain calmness in his presence, a kind of bravery that resonated with you more than any heroic story ever could.

“You’ll be alright,” you said softly, your fingers brushing against his skin as you reassured him, though the words felt almost empty in such a place of endless war.

“I’ll be fine,” Sungho said with a gentle smile. “As long as I don’t have to fight another battle with you.”

You smiled back, a flicker of warmth spreading through you despite the cold, sterile surroundings.

As days passed, Sungho began to recover. Slowly but surely, he moved from the bed where you had patched him up, to standing beside other soldiers, offering them words of encouragement. It was in these small moments that you saw who he truly was—a man who didn’t give up, no matter how bleak things seemed.

But the more you saw him, the more you realized how deeply you had started to care. The way he spoke to you in quiet moments, his eyes always holding something unspoken, something tender. He would often appear at the makeshift hospital when the night grew quiet, bringing you a cup of warm tea or just standing by your side when you needed a moment to breathe.

“You should rest,” you would tell him, but he’d just shake his head, that faint smile never leaving his lips.

“I can’t rest while you’re still working so hard,” he would say, his voice soft with genuine concern.

There was a lightness in the way he moved, an effortless grace that made your heart flutter. It was a quiet kind of charm, not loud or brash, but steady and comforting. Sungho didn’t need grand gestures to make you feel seen. Just being near him was enough. He was the calm in the storm of war, a beacon of hope in a place where hope was scarce.

But then, just as you began to settle into the strange rhythm of life at the hospital, everything shifted again.

The night came quickly, swallowing the light of the day, and with it came the sounds of distant artillery. The hospital, once a refuge from the war, began to feel less like a sanctuary and more like a ticking time bomb. The quiet hum of the infirmary was punctuated by the sounds of soldiers in pain and the occasional scream as a patient was brought in, bloodied and broken.

That night, the sounds outside grew louder—closer.

You were stitching a deep wound on a young soldier’s thigh when the door burst open, a medic rushing in with urgent news. “The front lines are advancing faster than expected! We need more hands!”

The panic was palpable, and you didn’t have time to think. You grabbed a fresh set of bandages, ready to do what you did best—patch them up and send them back to the fight.

Sungho, who had been standing by the window, turned to look at you with a furrowed brow. “Be careful,” he said softly, though you knew he couldn’t keep the worry out of his voice.

“I always am,” you replied, offering a small, reassuring smile, though your heart was anything but calm. The reality of this place—the war—had a way of stealing all sense of control, of taking away any semblance of safety.

As the hours wore on, you worked tirelessly, your hands growing numb from the constant stitching and bandaging. You barely noticed the clock ticking, the minutes slipping by unnoticed until you felt a sudden shift in the air—something was off.

The room seemed to hold its breath, the light dimming as the distant sounds grew louder, too loud to ignore. The familiar hum of the hospital was interrupted by a series of explosions, shaking the walls and rattling the windows. The lights flickered once, twice—before going out completely.

And then came the sound that would haunt you forever: the deafening roar of artillery shells, followed by the shriek of metal tearing through the air.

“Get down!” Sungho shouted, his voice barely audible over the chaos.

You didn’t hesitate. You dropped to the floor instinctively, covering your head as debris rained down around you. The walls seemed to tremble, the ground beneath you shaking as though the earth itself was being torn apart. The sounds of the explosion echoed in your ears, followed by the blaring of alarms, the shouts of soldiers, and the frantic cries of the wounded.

Sungho was by your side, pulling you into his arms as the building groaned and shifted around you. “Stay with me,” he murmured, his voice desperate, the urgency in his tone more than you had ever heard before.

You clung to him, heart pounding in your chest, a surge of fear rushing through you. This was it. This was the moment you had both feared and tried to push out of your mind. The war was here, and it was claiming everything.

A second explosion rattled the walls, sending dust and debris scattering through the air. Sungho's grip tightened around you, his body pressed protectively against yours, as if somehow he could shield you from the devastation tearing through the building. His breath came in shallow gasps, and his voice was barely more than a whisper when he spoke.

"I won't let you go," he said, his words heavy with fear and determination. "Not like this."

You tried to nod, to tell him you were fine, but the words caught in your throat. The hospital, your last semblance of safety, was crumbling around you, and you were trapped in the middle of it. A deep crack sounded from the ceiling above, and the world seemed to tilt violently. You could hear the anguished cries of the other soldiers—people you had cared for, patched up, sent back out into the madness. But now, the madness was here, inside these walls. And you, Sungho, and everyone else were caught in it.

"Sungho..." you whispered, your voice trembling. "What if—what if we don't make it?"

He didn’t answer at first. He only tightened his arms around you, as if trying to shield you from the horror that had already begun to unravel. But there was no protection from this, no way to stop the inevitable. The explosion had already torn through the building. The foundation was weakening.

"I don’t care," he said, his voice breaking, raw. "I just want you to be okay. I’ll take the fall, if it means you’re safe."

Your heart cracked at his words, because in that moment, you both knew. This wasn’t a fight you could win. The war outside had finally breached the hospital’s fragile defenses, and there was no way to escape it. Even if you ran, even if you tried to make it to the door, you both knew it was too late.

"Stay with me, Y/N," Sungho breathed, his forehead resting against yours. His face was pale, his hands shaking, but his eyes—those eyes that had seen too much—still held that quiet strength. "Don’t leave me alone in this."

But you knew—there was no leaving this place. No running. No escaping.

The building groaned once more, and then came the deafening crash of falling debris. Everything seemed to happen in slow motion. The walls around you buckled, and the floor cracked beneath your feet. You could feel the air growing thick, the dust filling your lungs, and the heat from the fires that had started in the chaos. Sungho’s arms were still around you, holding you close, but you could feel the tremor in his body. He knew, too. There was no saving you now.

RIWOO 𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔

˖➴ ERA : victorian era (1837 - 1901)

˖➴ PAIRING : nobleman!riwoo x servant!reader

The estate was a world of rules and expectations, where lines were drawn and crossed by those who had the privilege of wealth and status. You had spent years in the shadows of that world, bound to your position as a servant in the grand estate of the Lee family. The aristocratic family had long been known for their lineage, wealth, and impeccable reputation, and you—born into a life of service—had always been the quiet observer, playing your part without complaint.

But then there was Riwoo.

He was different. Though born to privilege, he had always treated you with a warmth and kindness that set him apart from the others. While his family considered you a mere servant, Riwoo never saw you as beneath him. His smile, the glint of humor in his eyes, the moments of quiet conversation—those were the things that made you question everything you thought you knew about love, about yourself, about your place in the world.

And so, it began—unspoken but undeniable—a feeling that crept in slowly, quietly, until it was all-consuming. You were drawn to him, though you dared not say it aloud. It wasn’t just the way he treated you, as though you were something more than a servant. It was the way he saw you. In his eyes, you weren’t invisible. You were worthy of his attention, his affection.

But you knew better than to entertain the thought. He was a nobleman, his life already mapped out for him in a way you could never hope to achieve. Riwoo was promised to another—someone of his own status, a woman whose family was as high-born as his own, whose name carried the weight of society’s expectations. You, on the other hand, were a servant. A woman who knew her place and never dared to dream of crossing the line that separated you.

But as time passed, the bond between you two deepened. The stolen glances, the shared moments of laughter in the garden, the way he would find excuses to speak to you alone in the quiet of the estate. It was intoxicating, that quiet affection, and it was impossible to ignore. There were moments when his gaze lingered on you a little longer than it should, when his hand brushed yours as he passed you something, when the air between you thickened with the weight of something unspoken.

One crisp autumn afternoon, the estate was quiet, the gardens bathed in the soft glow of the setting sun. You were carrying a tray of tea to the family’s private sitting room when you ran into Riwoo. He was standing near the windows, gazing out at the landscape, his back to you. The sunlight caught his hair, casting an almost ethereal glow around him. You hesitated for a moment before speaking.

“Is something troubling you, sir?” you asked, using the polite form of address you always did.

He turned to face you, a soft smile tugging at his lips. “I was just thinking,” he said, his voice low, almost contemplative. “About how beautiful the world can seem when you stop and actually look at it.”

You set the tray down on the nearby table, your gaze lingering on him. His words struck a chord within you, as though they held a deeper meaning. But you couldn’t allow yourself to get lost in them. You couldn’t afford to entertain thoughts of him beyond what was proper.

“You should focus on your duties,” you replied, keeping your tone neutral, though your heart felt heavy.

He frowned slightly, stepping closer, and for a moment, you thought he might say something that would change everything. But instead, he simply reached out, brushing a strand of hair from your face with surprising tenderness.

“You’re right,” he said softly. “I always forget how much I’m supposed to focus on the family’s expectations. Sometimes, I wish I could just leave it all behind.”

You swallowed, fighting the sudden surge of emotion. "It’s not something you can just walk away from. You have your future planned out, Riwoo. You have responsibilities."

His eyes locked with yours, and you saw something there—a quiet defiance, an unwillingness to accept the fate that had been mapped out for him. “Maybe," he said quietly, "but what if I don’t want that future? What if I want something more?”

Your breath caught, and you pulled away, not trusting yourself to look at him any longer. "You can't have what you want, Riwoo. It’s not possible."

Days passed, and the weight of those words lingered like a shadow. You tried to bury your feelings, focusing on your tasks, your duties. But every time Riwoo came near, it felt as if the world tilted slightly, pulling you toward him in a way you couldn’t explain.

It was on one of those nights, as you worked late in the drawing room, dusting the shelves of books that lined the walls, that Riwoo found you. The soft light of the candle flickered as he stepped into the room, the faint sound of his footsteps on the stone floor making your heart flutter.

“I thought I’d find you here,” Riwoo said, his voice low and warm.

You turned, startled, but the moment you saw him standing in the doorway, you felt an ache deep inside. You knew what this was—the weight of what you could never have.

“Riwoo, I—” you started, but the words caught in your throat.

He walked closer, his eyes never leaving yours, and your breath hitched. “Why do you always run from me?” he asked, his voice a mixture of frustration and longing.

“I’m not running from you,” you said quickly, though your heart was pounding in your chest. “But you’re promised to someone else. We both know it.”

He shook his head, stepping closer, his presence overwhelming. “I don’t care about that. I care about you.”

Your breath caught. You wanted to believe him, wanted to let yourself believe that this was real—that his words weren’t just fleeting, a momentary lapse in judgment. But you knew better. You were nothing more than a servant, and he was a man of noble birth. It was a love that had no future, no place in the world that had been built for him.

“But you don’t get to care about me,” you whispered, stepping back, your voice breaking. “You have responsibilities. You have duties. You’ll marry someone else, someone with a name, someone who fits into your world. I don’t belong there.”

Riwoo’s expression softened, a deep sadness in his eyes. He reached for your hand, gently taking it in his. “Then why is it that when I’m with you, I feel like I’m finally where I belong? Why does everything else feel so empty?”

You wanted to pull away, to tell him to forget about you, to move on and marry the woman he was supposed to. But the way his hand held yours, the way his thumb brushed gently against your skin, made it impossible to resist.

“Riwoo, you don’t know what you’re saying,” you murmured, tears welling in your eyes. “You’ll regret it. This can’t happen.”

He leaned forward, his forehead resting gently against yours. “I won’t regret this,” he whispered, his breath warm against your skin. “Not if it means being with you.”

For a moment, the world outside the estate faded away, and there was only the two of you. The weight of your worlds, of your stations, felt far away, as though in this moment, nothing else mattered. His lips hovered just inches from yours, and you could feel the electric tension between you both. But just as the distance closed, the sound of footsteps echoed down the hallway, and reality crashed back in.

Riwoo pulled away, his expression conflicted. He knew the consequences of what he was about to say, but he couldn’t stop himself.

“I love you,” he said, his voice fierce, though his eyes were filled with regret. “And I will find a way to make this work. I’ll make it work, I swear.”

You shook your head, tears slipping down your cheeks. “You can’t. You’re bound by duty.”

“I’ll find a way to break those chains,” he replied, his voice filled with determination. “Just wait for me.”

JAEHYUN 𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔

˖➴ ERA : 1920s hollywood

˖➴ PAIRING : hollywood star!jaehyun x screenwriter!reader

The air was thick with anticipation as you walked through the sprawling Paramount Studios lot, the golden California sun casting long, languid shadows. The sound of the filmmakers' hushed whispers, the clatter of crew members adjusting lights, and the hum of the cameras rolling all seemed to blend into the same seductive hum of Hollywood’s eternal glamour. It was here, in this world of bright lights and silent whispers, that your dreams were beginning to take shape.

You were a screenwriter—an uncredited one for now, but that was about to change. Your latest script had caught the attention of a powerful producer, and it had found its way into the hands of Hollywood’s rising star. Myung Jaehyun. The name rolled off the tongues of everyone in Tinseltown, synonymous with talent, allure, and an effortless charm that had made him one of the most sought-after men in Hollywood.

Jaehyun wasn’t just another actor. He was a phenomenon—a man with a smile that could stop traffic, a voice smooth as velvet, and eyes that carried the kind of depth that turned heads both on and off the screen. You had seen him in countless movies, his face always illuminated in black and white, always perfect, always untouchable. But now, in the midst of this chaotic world you both inhabited, he was more than just an actor to you.

He was about to be your leading man.

When the production began, you found yourself constantly at odds with your own nervous energy. Jaehyun’s presence on set was nothing short of commanding. He moved through the scenes with an effortless grace, making it seem like the world was his stage. His performances were impeccable—his boyish smile, his quiet confidence, his ability to draw the audience in with the flicker of his eyes. But the more you saw him perform, the more you couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something else—something hidden beneath his perfect exterior.

In truth, you weren’t sure what to expect when you first met him on set. He had been cast for your script, after all, and there he was, bringing the very words you had written to life.

But the first time you locked eyes with him in person, you realized that he was more than just the face you had imagined in your head while writing. Jaehyun was a man of contradictions. Behind the laughter and the charming persona, you could see the weight of something darker—something far more complex.

One late evening, after a long day of shooting, the set was nearly empty. The crew had gone home, and you were alone in your thoughts, reviewing the script one last time. You felt the faint hum of the projector still running in the background, but it was Jaehyun’s voice that made you pause.

“You’re still here?”

You looked up, surprised to find him standing near the doorway, leaning casually against the frame. His tousled hair and the loosened tie around his neck only added to the rugged allure he wore so effortlessly. His smile was warm, but there was something softer in it that caught your attention.

“Yeah, just... trying to get this right,” you said, your voice betraying the weariness that had settled deep into your bones.

“You’ve been at this for hours, haven’t you?” Jaehyun asked, stepping into the room with slow, deliberate steps. He didn’t look at the script in your hands; instead, he focused on you, his gaze lingering like he was trying to see past the professional façade you both wore. "You should take a break. You’ve been burning the candle at both ends."

You chuckled softly, shaking your head. “Not when I’m this close,” you said, a wry smile playing on your lips. “I can’t afford to fail. This script—it’s everything.”

Jaehyun’s eyes softened. He didn’t respond immediately, instead letting the silence hang in the air between you two. He took a step closer, his tone light but full of sincerity. “I get it. The pressure’s... a lot. But you’re doing something incredible here. Don’t lose sight of that.” He leaned in, his voice lowering as he added, “We’re all counting on you, you know? I’m counting on you.”

His words were quiet, but they made your heart race in a way that had nothing to do with nerves or exhaustion. The way he spoke, the intensity behind it—there was something in his gaze that made you feel as though you weren’t just another person in Hollywood trying to make a name for herself.

You shifted slightly in your chair, feeling a sudden tightness in your chest. “I don’t know if I can live up to this,” you admitted quietly, your eyes now focused on your hands, gripping the edge of the desk.

Jaehyun stepped closer still, his presence calming, and gently placed his hand over yours. The weight of his touch sent a ripple of warmth through you, making your breath catch in your throat.

“Hey,” he said softly, lifting your chin with his fingers so that your eyes met his. His gaze was intense, yet tender, as though he was seeing all the parts of you that you were too afraid to show the world. “You will live up to it. I have no doubt. You’re stronger than you give yourself credit for.”

There was a softness in the way he spoke, and it made your chest tighten. The quiet sincerity in his voice was so different from the public persona he wore. For a moment, Jaehyun wasn’t the glitzy movie star—he was just a man who understood what it felt like to be on the edge, caught between expectations and the overwhelming weight of living up to them.

You swallowed, a nervous laugh escaping your lips as you tried to break the sudden tension that had settled between you. “You’re the one who’s going to make my script a success, Jaehyun. I’m just a writer. All I do is type words.”

But Jaehyun shook his head, a small smile tugging at his lips. “No, you’re more than that. You’re the one who gave me the words to speak. Without you, I’d just be another pretty face.”

The way he said it—so simply, but with such conviction—made your heart skip. There was a sincerity in his eyes that sent a flutter through you. It was just the two of you in the dimly lit room, where the outside world couldn’t touch you.

“You’ve got a way with words, don’t you?” you said, your voice a little quieter now, the flirtation in your tone impossible to ignore.

Jaehyun’s smile deepened, and he took another step closer until he was standing just in front of you, close enough that you could feel the warmth of his presence. His hand remained on yours, gentle yet firm, grounding you in the moment.

“I’m just speaking the truth,” he replied softly. “But if you want me to say something else—something different—just say the word.”

Before you could respond, Jaehyun grinned mischievously, his fingers lightly grazing the back of your hand. His gaze dropped to your lips for a moment before flicking back to your eyes with a spark of teasing intent.

“Well, if you really want me to say something else…” he leaned in just slightly, his breath warm against your ear, “I could tell you that I’m more than just a pretty face.”

His voice dropped to a near whisper, and for a moment, you swore he was closer than he’d ever been. You felt heat rise to your cheeks, your pulse quickening in the most unexpected way.

And just as quickly as it started, Jaehyun stepped back, flashing you a playful grin. “But, of course, that’s for you to decide.”

He turned on his heel and left the room, leaving you standing there, wide-eyed and flustered, the lingering warmth of his presence making it impossible to focus on anything but the playful tension that now hung in the air.

TAESAN 𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔

˖➴ ERA : zombie apocalpyse

°˖➴ PAIRING : protector!taesan x survivor!reader

The world, once full of laughter, bustling cities, and endless possibilities, had collapsed into nothing. It started slowly at first—a virus that seemed like any other flu strain, a quick outbreak that was initially contained. But it spread with terrifying speed, mutating faster than anyone could comprehend. Cities fell. Governments tried to maintain order, but there was nothing they could do. What had started as a series of isolated incidents exploded into full-blown panic as the virus turned the infected into the ravenous undead, driven only by hunger. Soon, civilization as you knew it was gone.

You had been running from the horrors of your home colony, the last of its inhabitants trying to hold onto what little hope remained. The colony was overrun, and you barely made it out alive, clutching a few meager supplies and running on nothing but adrenaline. Your legs burned from the effort, your lungs seared with the cold air as you ran through the overgrown streets of the abandoned city. You had no direction, no destination, but you kept going. Because stopping meant dying.

It was on that fateful night that you stumbled upon a small, fortified group of survivors—Taesan’s group. At first, they were wary, watching you from behind the makeshift barricades they’d built. You knew what they were thinking: Another stranger. Another liability.

But when Taesan looked at you—his piercing eyes scanning you with a mix of caution and something softer—you knew you were not just a stranger to him. You were another soul lost in the world, just trying to survive. And somehow, amidst the chaos of the world crumbling around you, you both found something in each other that you weren’t sure existed anymore: a chance.

Days turned into weeks. You and Taesan barely spoke at first. He was a man of few words, hardened by loss, his hands stained with the blood of the countless zombies he’d fought off to protect the group. But there was something in the way he looked at you, something that made your heart ache in the best way. It wasn’t pity or obligation; it was a quiet understanding that you both had seen the same horrors, that you both carried the weight of the apocalypse on your shoulders.

One night, as you both stood watch on the outskirts of the small camp, the silence between you was thick, filled with unspoken words. The wind howled through the broken city, and you could hear the distant groans of the undead, far too close for comfort.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered into the cold night, barely louder than the rustling leaves. “I don’t know why I’m here. I should’ve stayed back, tried harder to save them… to save my people.”

Taesan shifted beside you, his eyes fixed on the darkness. “There was nothing you could do. They were gone before you could make a choice.”

A lump formed in your throat, and you wiped at your eyes, trying to keep your composure. “But they were my responsibility.”

“You’re still here, though,” he said, his voice soft, almost tender. “That means you didn’t give up. And that’s what matters.”

The words felt like a balm to your raw soul, soothing the ache of loss that had consumed you for so long. You had almost forgotten what it felt like to have someone who cared about your well-being in this world that was nothing but a relentless cycle of survival.

“You don’t have to carry all that weight alone,” Taesan continued, his eyes briefly flicking to you before returning to the night ahead. “We’re in this together.”

His words hit you harder than you anticipated. It wasn’t the survival that was the hardest part of this world. It was the loneliness. The isolation. The fear that no matter how many people you met, no matter how many battles you fought, you would never find someone who truly understood what you were going through.

But here was Taesan, standing beside you, offering something you never thought you’d have again—a connection. A lifeline.

The next few days passed with more quiet moments between you and Taesan. You still didn’t speak much, but there was an unspoken understanding. He would protect you, and you would do everything in your power to help him protect the group. The world had become nothing but survival, but in the small moments, in the silent exchanges, you both began to heal.

One evening, as you worked on fortifying the camp’s entrance, Taesan came over, his footsteps light against the rubble. He stood a few feet away, watching you with an unreadable expression. Finally, he spoke.

“If you ever need to talk about… well, any of this,” he began, his voice gruff but sincere, “I’m here.”

You met his gaze, seeing something there—something that wasn’t just about survival, but about trust. “I’m… I’m not used to this,” you admitted quietly, the words slipping out before you could stop them. “Not having to do everything alone.”

For the first time in a long while, you allowed yourself to truly feel the relief that his presence brought. He wasn’t a savior, and you weren’t some helpless soul. You were two survivors, two people who had witnessed the end of everything and still found a reason to live.

Taesan nodded, his gaze unwavering. “I get it,” he said simply, and you felt the sincerity in those words more than anything else.

There was no grand declaration. No sweeping gesture. But as the days passed and the two of you navigated the horrors of the new world together, you realized that what you had with Taesan wasn’t just about survival.

It was a promise.

A promise to protect, to fight for something more than the end of the world—to fight for each other.

The night had fallen again, and the world outside the makeshift barricades was silent. Too silent. You knew it was coming. The warning signs had been there—the sudden surge of zombies near the perimeter, the strange movements in the shadows. Your heart raced in your chest, the air thick with the stench of fear and the eerie quiet that only preceded a storm.

"Stay close," Taesan's voice was low and steady, a sharp contrast to the pounding in your chest. His hand gripped his weapon tightly, ready for whatever came next. The once-confident leader, the protector of this ragtag group, was now standing right beside you, offering a calm you wished you could match.

"I’m not leaving you behind," you said softly, your voice barely a whisper. You'd grown too close to him. Taesan wasn’t just the man who protected you anymore. He was someone you trusted, someone you relied on in a world that had stolen everything from both of you.

He didn’t reply, but there was a flicker in his eyes. Something raw. Something real.

A loud crash echoed from the east side of the camp—zombies had breached the barricades. The horde surged forward like an unstoppable force. You and Taesan were both already moving, adrenaline taking over as you fought your way through the chaos. But something felt different this time. The air was too heavy. The weight of something… terrible.

In the frenzy of the battle, the world seemed to slow down. Your heart pounded as you watched Taesan, his movements swift and precise, cutting down zombie after zombie. You followed, staying close, making sure no one got left behind.

And then it happened.

A sudden sharp pain shot through Taesan’s side. You didn’t see the zombie approach, didn’t hear the crack of its teeth sinking into his flesh. But you saw the blood—the crimson stain spreading on his shirt.

"Taesan!" you shouted, rushing to his side.

His face was pale, the color draining from him rapidly. His grip on his weapon faltered. "It’s nothing," he tried to assure you, but his voice was strained, ragged.

"Don’t lie to me!" you snapped, your hands frantic as you pressed against the wound, desperately trying to stop the blood flow. "Shit, we need to get you inside. Now."

But Taesan shook his head, his eyes dark with something that made your heart seize. "It’s too late. You know it is."

"No!" you cried, shaking him. The panic surged through you. You couldn’t lose him. Not now. Not after everything.

He chuckled weakly, but it was bitter. "You should have stayed away from me," he said, his voice rough but filled with the kind of regret that sliced through you. "I’m not the man you think I am."

"Don’t fucking say that!" You shook your head, tears filling your eyes. "Please, just hold on."

But he didn't listen. His hand reached for your cheek, his fingers cold, trembling. His gaze softened as he traced the outline of your face, as if memorizing every detail. "I tried to protect you," he whispered, so softly you almost missed it. "But it was always you who was protecting me."

Your heart stopped. You shook your head, unable to process the depth of his words, the weight of his confession.

"Taesan," you whispered, your voice barely audible. "Don’t—"

"I need you to know," he rasped, his breathing labored. "I—"

His words were cut off by a groan of pain as he collapsed to his knees. You scrambled to catch him, but his weight was too much, and he slumped forward, his head resting on your shoulder.

"I… I love you," he gasped, his eyes half-lidded with pain. "I never… I never said it, but I do. Always."

Your breath hitched, the tears spilling over, soaking his shirt. He was confessing. He was confessing now, at the end, when it was too late.

You felt his body growing cold in your arms, the transformation already beginning as his grip loosened, his body twitching.

"No," you breathed, trying to hold him up. But his body was already changing, his eyes flickering to that dark, vacant stare of the infected.

Your heart shattered. You couldn’t let him suffer. You couldn’t let him become one of them.

Without thinking, you pulled out your gun—the one you had hoped you'd never need to use. With shaking hands, you raised it to his head.

"Taesan," you whispered, your voice breaking. "I’m so sorry."

The last flicker of recognition in his eyes lingered for a moment, just long enough to know that he understood. And then, with one final tear, you pulled the trigger.

LEEHAN 𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔

˖➴ ERA : 18th century, coastal village

˖➴ PAIRING : fisherman!leehan x mermaid!reader

Leehan had grown up hearing the stories.

Old fishermen, with their weathered hands and salt-stained voices, spoke of mermaids—creatures of the deep, neither fully human nor beast. Some swore they were monsters, dragging sailors into the abyss with their haunting songs. Others claimed they were omens, appearing before a storm to warn those wise enough to listen.

But there was one tale that had always stuck with him.

"A mermaid’s love is a curse."

"Once a mermaid chooses a human, they are bound forever. But the sea is jealous—it never lets them keep what they love for long."

Leehan never believed in fairy tales.

Until the day he met you.

It was supposed to be an ordinary day. The sky was clear, the waves calm, and Leehan was focused on his fishing net when he saw something unusual—a shimmer just beneath the surface.  

At first, he thought he was hallucinating. The sun reflected off your iridescent scales, casting flecks of light over your skin. Your hair clung to your face, eyes wide as you stared at him, both of you frozen in shock.  

Then, you smiled.

"You look like you've seen a ghost," you teased, tilting your head.  

Leehan swallowed hard. "You're real."  

You floated closer, resting your arms on the edge of his boat. "I could say the same about you. Most humans never get this close."  

"Most humans don't believe in you," he admitted, though he couldn't take his eyes off you.  

"You do."  

Leehan hesitated. Maybe he shouldn’t. Maybe it would be easier if he didn’t. But something deep inside him—the same part that used to listen wide-eyed to old sailors' stories—whispered that he always had.

So, he nodded.

And you smiled, like you had been waiting for that answer all along.

Days turned into weeks. Every morning, Leehan would take his boat out a little farther than usual, knowing you’d be waiting. And every time, you’d greet him with that teasing smile.  

“You should be careful,” he warned one day as you played with the ropes on his boat. “If anyone sees you—”  

“They’ll try to kill me?” you finished, unfazed. “I know. Humans are predictable.”  

Leehan frowned. “Not all of them.”  

You looked at him then, and for the first time, your teasing expression softened. “No. Not all of them.”  

It wasn’t long before you started waiting for him, not just to talk, but to listen. You wanted to know everything—what it was like to live on land, to see the stars without the water blurring them.  

And in return, you told him about the ocean. The parts of the world he would never see. The beauty of the deep, the dangers lurking where light couldn’t reach.  

“You love it, don’t you?” he asked one evening, watching the way your face softened as you spoke.  

“The sea is my home,” you admitted. “But lately… I wonder what it would be like to stay here instead.”  

Leehan’s breath caught in his throat, but before he could say anything, you laughed.  

“Relax, fisherman. I wouldn’t last a day on land.”  

But you both knew it was too late.  

You were falling. And so was he.  

The village had always feared the sea. It was in their blood—their fathers and grandfathers had warned them of the creatures lurking below, waiting to drag them under.  

And now, they had proof.  

You never saw them coming. One moment, you were waiting in the shallows for Leehan, the next, hands were on you—nets tangling around your limbs, rough voices shouting.  

“Look at the size of it!”  

“It’s real!”  

“A monster—”  

You fought, but the more you struggled, the tighter the ropes became. The air burned in your lungs. The sun was too bright. And then—  

“STOP!”  

Leehan’s voice cut through the chaos. He shoved through the crowd, panting, eyes wide in horror as he took in the sight of you—trapped, helpless, terrified.  

"Let her go," he demanded.  

One of the older men turned to him, scoffing. "You knew, didn’t you? You’ve been hiding this thing?"  

"She's not a thing,” Leehan shot back. “They’re—” He stopped himself. He din’t know what to say. What could he say? That you weren’t dangerous? That you weren’t a threat?  

No one would listen.  

The village had already made up their mind.  

The sky was painted in the colors of dusk when they decided your fate.  

A harpoon. A single strike to the heart. It would be quick, they said. A mercy.  

You had stopped struggling by then. Maybe it was the exhaustion, or maybe it was the realization that there was no escaping this.  

Leehan tried to run to you, but strong arms held him back.

“No—” Leehan thrashed against their hold, but the villagers’ grip was unyielding, rough hands digging into his arms, keeping him in place. He struggled anyway, desperation surging through him like a raging tide. “Let me go! Please—”

His voice cracked on the last word, raw and broken, but no one listened. No one cared.

You turned your head slightly, eyes finding his through the chaos. And then—despite everything—you smiled. A soft, tired thing.

“…Leehan,” you murmured, voice gentle, as if you were comforting him.

Leehan’s breath hitched, his chest rising and falling in uneven bursts. “Don’t—” His voice wavered, thick with grief. “Don’t act like this is okay.”

Your gaze softened. There was no fear in your eyes, no anger. Just a quiet acceptance. “It was always going to end like this, Leehan.”

“No.” His struggles weakened, exhaustion creeping in, but he still fought against the hands that held him back. “No, it wasn’t.” His breath came in ragged gasps, his vision blurred with unshed tears. “It wasn’t supposed to be like this.”

You inhaled slowly, as if savoring the air one last time, then exhaled, your expression turning wistful. “You were the best thing I ever found on the surface.”

A sharp inhale. His jaw clenched. His whole body shook with the weight of words he couldn’t force out.

“Don’t—” His voice cracked again, barely above a whisper.

Your fingers twitched slightly, as if reaching for him, but the ropes were too tight. “Leehan,” you breathed, softer now, like the final note of a fading song. “If things were different... if I could stay...”

He shook his head violently, chest heaving. He still fought, still tried, but the hands on him only tightened. It was useless.

So you did it for him.

“I would have chosen you.”

And then—  

The harpoon struck.  

A gasp. A shudder.  

And then, silence.  

The water, which had always been so full of life, was still.  

Leehan's hands trembled at his sides, fists clenching and unclenching as if he could still reach you—still pull you back from your predicament.

But nothing could.  

Not even love.    

The village cheered. The monster was dead.  

But Leehan didn’t move. He stayed there, frozen, his body trembling as he stared at you. The villagers slowly loosened their grip, but he didn’t fight anymore. There was nothing left to fight for.

Slowly, he lifted his head.  

And for the first time in his life, he hated the sea.  

WOONHAK 𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔

˖➴ ERA : present day, with a twist of supernatural

˖➴ PAIRING : hunter!woonhak x human!reader

The first time you met Woonhak, you had no idea just how much your life was about to change. It was late at night, and you were walking home from a late study session, the streetlights casting long shadows on the pavement. That’s when you saw it—a figure in the distance, a dark, twisted shape moving toward you in the alley.

It didn’t take long for you to realize what it was. The gleam of fangs in the darkness made your blood run cold, and before you could react, the vampire lunged at you. The world seemed to slow down as the creature closed in, its eyes glowing with malice.

But then, everything went quiet. A sharp crack echoed through the alley, and the vampire stumbled back with a horrible, gurgling sound. Your heart raced, your breath caught in your throat as you turned to see him—Woonhak. Standing tall, his gaze focused and intense, a silver blade in hand, glinting in the moonlight.

He moved with a precision you couldn’t even fathom. The vampire didn’t stand a chance as Woonhak sliced through the air with swift, calculated strikes. Every movement was practiced, sharp—like he’d been doing this for centuries. In moments, the vampire crumpled to the ground, lifeless, a dark puddle forming beneath it.

You stood frozen, your legs barely holding you up as you watched him wipe his blade clean. The silence that followed felt deafening.

Finally, you managed to speak, your voice shaking with the remnants of adrenaline. “Who—who are you?”

Woonhak turned to you, his expression softening as he met your gaze. A small, reassuring smile tugged at the corner of his lips, though there was something unreadable in his eyes. “Just someone who takes out the trash,” he said with a lightness that didn’t quite match the intensity of the situation. Then, his voice softened, his gaze never leaving you. “Are you okay?”

You backed away slightly, still in shock, trying to process the scene you had just witnessed. “That was... real, wasn’t it? You... you killed it.” The words felt like they were coming from someone else, your brain struggling to make sense of the new reality you’d just been thrust into.

Woonhak nodded, wiping his blade with a practiced hand. “Yeah. Vampires, demons... they’re real. You’re not safe here anymore,” he said, his tone growing serious. He looked at you with a quiet intensity, his gaze never faltering. “I’ll protect you. But I need you to trust me.”

Your mind raced, trying to keep up with the chaos of the situation. “Why should I trust you?” you asked, the words slipping out before you could stop them. “You’re just... a stranger. Why me?”

His expression darkened slightly, a flicker of something—pain, maybe—passing through his eyes. “Because I’m your only chance at survival,” he said, his voice steady but with an underlying edge. “And because this isn’t the first time the supernatural world has taken an interest in you.”

As the days passed, Woonhak stayed close, always keeping an eye on you but never making you feel suffocated. His playful banter filled the quiet moments between your training sessions, making the tension of your new life seem almost manageable. He trained you, not in the usual way, but in self-defense. His hands were firm as they guided yours through each motion, his voice confident and lighthearted, always adding a bit of humor to keep the mood from getting too heavy.

“I know this is a lot to take in,” he said one evening as you practiced a defensive maneuver. “But trust me, you’ll be thanking me when you’re knocking out vampires with one punch. You’ll look so cool doing it.”

You shot him a playful, frustrated look, unsure of how to process everything he was telling you. “And you’re just... some supernatural hunter? Why me? What’s so special about me?”

He paused, looking thoughtful for a moment before flashing you a grin. “It’s not just that. You’ve got this... energy, this connection to things that are way bigger than you or me. And hey, I’m just here to make sure you don’t get eaten alive in the process.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his words. “What do you mean? Am I... am I a target?” The thought made your stomach churn.

Woonhak’s grin softened, and he gave you a reassuring nudge. “Yep, you are. But, hey, don’t worry. I’ve got your back. Always.” His smile was wide, full of the confidence that made you believe, for a moment, that everything was going to be okay.

The weeks that followed were filled with moments of laughter and small, meaningful conversations between your patrols and training sessions. Even with the tension building around you, Woonhak’s humour kept things light. It was hard to stay too overwhelmed when he made it seem like every supernatural creature was just another silly challenge to face. You even started looking forward to his jokes, his smiles, and the way he made you forget just how crazy everything around you really was.

Then, one night, after barely escaping an ambush by a pack of rogue werewolves, you found yourselves standing side by side, breathless and covered in dirt. The tension in the air was thick, both of you still riding the adrenaline, but there was something else there, too. Woonhak turned to you, his face lit up by the soft glow of the streetlights. His eyes locked onto yours, and for the first time, the playful edge in his expression was replaced with something more genuine. He took a step closer, his gaze softening.

“You’re safe,” he whispered, his voice low but reassuring, as he reached up and brushed a strand of hair from your face. His fingers lingered there for a moment, gentle and warm. “I’m not letting anything happen to you.”

Your pulse quickened, your heart hammering in your chest. You wanted to ask more questions, to figure out what exactly was happening between you two, but when his eyes stayed on yours like that, all you could think about was the way his warmth felt, the way he was so close and yet so careful.

“But... why?” You blurted out before you could stop yourself. “Why do you care so much? I’m just... a normal person.”

Woonhak’s playful grin faltered for a moment, and his hand stayed close to your cheek, his thumb tracing the line of your jaw softly. His voice was quieter this time, more honest, and without his usual cheerful tone. “Because... I don’t want to lose you.” His words were raw, sincere, and they made your chest tighten. “I don’t know when it happened, or why... but I think I’m falling for you.”

You froze, your heart skipping a beat at the sincerity in his words. “Woonhak...” you whispered, barely able to process what you were hearing. The world seemed to slow down as his gaze deepened, and you saw something in him you hadn’t realized before—vulnerability, a hint of fear, but something else, too. Something real.

He closed the distance between you, his hand gently cupping your face as he leaned in just a little closer. His thumb brushed against your cheek again, and his smile returned, though this time it was softer, warmer. “Sorry if I’m getting too close,” he murmured, his voice a little teasing but filled with a tenderness you hadn’t expected. “But I just... can’t help it.”

You felt the warmth of his body, the pull of his presence, and in that moment, you knew. You knew that, despite all the danger surrounding you, you were willing to take the leap with him.

“I don’t know how to feel,” you admitted softly, your heart racing. But deep down, you could already feel what your heart was telling you. “But... I don’t want to lose you either.”

Woonhak’s smile softened into something genuine, the lightness of his usual demeanour blending with a quiet intensity. “Then we’ll fight together,” he said, his voice filled with determination and warmth. “We’ll face everything, you and me. Together.”

@coriihanniee ☁️

˖➴ reblogs are appreciated! ty for reading! <3

And yet, they are. Just like the boy beside you.

You steal a glance at him, the dim glow of the moon casting soft shadows along his jawline. He’s sitting close—close enough that his presence wraps around you like gravity, grounding you in a way that feels both comforting and terrifying. His hand lingers on the ground between you, fingers barely brushing yours. It’s such a light touch, so fleeting it could almost be accidental. Almost.

But nothing about him ever feels accidental.

Not the way he looks at you—like he sees straight through the layers you’ve built, past the walls you swore would protect you. Not the way he listens—fully, completely, like your words are the only ones that matter. And especially not the way he holds himself back, as if he’s always fighting the urge to pull you closer.

For once, there are no cameras. No prying eyes dissecting your every move. No whispers slithering beneath your skin, twisting the simplest things into something unrecognizable.

It’s just him. Just you.

And the truth you’ve spent so long trying to bury.

You swallow, your throat tight as you stare up at the stars. You don’t want to ruin this moment. Don’t want to let the weight of everything crash into the fragile quiet between you. But the words press against your ribs, aching to be spoken.

Before you can stop yourself, they slip free.

“Did you ever think it would be this hard?”

Your voice is softer than you intended, the vulnerability in it making your stomach twist.

Beside you, he doesn’t answer right away. His gaze stays fixed on the sky, his lips slightly parted as if the words are tangled somewhere deep inside him. And maybe that’s what you love most about him—the way he never rushes to fill the silence. The way he lets the truth settle between you until it’s ready to be spoken.

Finally, he exhales, his breath slow and measured. “What do you mean?”

His voice is quiet, careful, but there’s an edge of knowing beneath it. Like he already understands—even if you don’t say it aloud.

You hesitate, your fingers curling against the ground. “This.” You gesture vaguely toward the night, but the ache in your chest makes your meaning clear. “Loving someone like this. In secret—like it’s something we have to hide.”

His fingers twitch beside yours, the smallest hesitation. You know that movement. You’ve seen it before. It’s the way he holds himself back when he wants to reach for you but doesn’t. The way he chooses caution over impulse. Because he knows—just as well as you do—what it would mean if he didn’t.

“I knew it wouldn’t be easy,” he says at last. His voice is steady, but there’s something raw in it. Something that makes your breath catch. “But I didn’t think it would weigh on you like this.”

You shake your head, frustration bubbling beneath the sadness. “It’s not just the fans,” you murmur. “It’s the way they—” Your voice catches for a moment, thick and heavy. “The way they dissect everything. Every post. Every glance. Like we’re not even real. Just something for them to figure out, to tear apart.”

The words sit heavy in the space between you. You let out a slow breath, running a hand through your hair. “And every time I say or do anything, it’s like they’re waiting. Watching. Like I owe them an answer.”

You don’t mean for your voice to shake. But it does.

For a moment, there’s only silence.

Then—his hand moves.

Slowly, deliberately, his fingers brush against yours again. But this time, he doesn’t pull away. His touch is warm, steady in a way that makes you want to collapse into him and never let go.

“You don’t owe them anything.” His voice is quiet, but there’s a certainty to it that makes your chest tighten. “Your feelings—us—that’s ours. And no one gets to take that from you.”

Your throat tightens. Because for all the nights you’ve spent feeling like this love is a battle you’re destined to lose—he’s still here. Still choosing you.

You blink up at the sky, swallowing hard. “Sometimes, I wonder if it’s worth it,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. “Hiding like this. Pretending like I’m fine when—” The words stick to your throat, painful and raw. “When I just want to be yours. Out loud.”

His silence should scare you. But it doesn’t. Because his silence has never meant absence. If anything, it means he’s feeling too much, all at once.

When he finally speaks, his voice is softer than you’ve ever heard it. “Do you regret it?”

You don’t even have to think.

“No.” The answer comes too quickly, too easily. Because despite everything—despite the fear, the exhaustion, the weight of the world pressing down on you—there is no reality where you would ever regret him.

“I could never regret you.”

You feel the way his breath stutters, like your words have cracked something open inside him. His grip on your hand tightens, and for a moment, it feels like he’s holding on for dear life.

“I know it’s not fair,” he says after a beat, his voice rough around the edges. “You shouldn’t have to live like this—scared to love someone.”

A soft, humorless laugh escapes you. “It’s not your fault,” you murmur, shaking your head. And you mean it. He’s the one thing in this world that has ever felt right. But that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt. That doesn’t mean it isn’t terrifying.

He exhales sharply, his jaw tightening. “If it’s too much… if you need to walk away—”

“I don’t.” The words rush out before you can stop them, raw and desperate. “I don’t want to let go. I just…” You swallow against the lump in your throat, your heart thudding painfully against your ribs. “I’m scared. Of how much I feel. Of how much they could take from us if they knew.”

His hand slips from yours then—but only so he can reach up and cradle your face in his palm. His touch is gentle, as if he’s afraid you might break. “They can’t take everything,” he murmurs, his thumb brushing softly against your cheek. “Not if we don’t let them.”

The night feels thinner somehow—like the weight of the world is pressing in from all sides, but the space between you and him remains untouched. Safe. His palm is warm against your cheek, grounding, but it doesn’t steady the tremble in your breath.

You hate how easily he reads you. How he always seems to know the words before you even speak them. It should be comforting, and maybe it is, but it also makes you feel exposed in a way that terrifies you.

Because if he sees everything—then he knows.

Knows how deep this love runs. Knows how much it terrifies you.

Knows that if the world ever forced you to make a choice between him and yourself, you don’t trust yourself to choose right.

His thumb moves absently along your cheekbone, tracing slow, thoughtful patterns. His expression is unreadable, but his eyes—God, his eyes—hold so much it makes your chest ache. There’s something wrecked in them. Something that looks too much like the fear you feel in your own heart.

“Talk to me,” he murmurs, voice barely above a whisper. “Please.”

You don’t respond right away. You can’t. The words are there—lodged in your throat, pressing against your ribs—but saying them out loud means giving them life. Means making them real.

And if they’re real, you can’t take them back.

His grip tightens, just slightly. “You don’t have to be scared.”

Your breath catches. “That’s the problem.”

His fingers still. His brows pull together, just slightly, like the weight of your words is settling into his bones.

“I’m not scared of you,” you clarify, shaking your head. “I’m scared of how much I trust you. Of how easy it is to forget the rest of the world when I’m with you.” Your throat tightens. “Because it makes me want things I can’t have.”

His fingers twitch against your skin. “Like what?”

You hesitate. But it’s too late to hold back now.

“To love you without being afraid.”

The words taste like freedom and heartbreak, all at once.

You don’t realize you’re crying until his thumb brushes away the first tear. He doesn’t say anything, just watches you with the kind of tenderness that makes your heart break open and spill at his feet. His hands are so steady, so sure—like even now, even in this moment, he’d catch you if you fell.

And maybe that’s the worst part.

Because you know he would.

And you don’t know if you’d ever want to stand again.

The silence between you stretches, thick with the weight of everything unsaid. The world outside this moment ceases to exist. It’s just the two of you, standing on the edge of something neither of you can name.

He exhales, long and slow. “You think I’m not afraid?”

You blink at him, startled.

“I am,” he admits, voice steady despite the confession. “I’ve been scared since the day I realized I wanted you more than anything. Because wanting you means risking everything.” His thumb sweeps over your cheek, lingering just beneath your eye. “And losing you would ruin me.”

Something shatters inside you.

He’s scared too.

The weight you’ve been carrying alone, the fear that’s wrapped itself around your ribs like a vice—it’s his too.

Your fingers curl into the fabric of his shirt. “Then why do we keep doing this to ourselves?”

He smiles, but it’s a sad, fragile thing. “Because even when it hurts… you’re still the only thing I want.”

Your breath catches. His words settle into your bones, winding around your heart like a tether pulling you toward him, closer, closer—until there’s barely any space left between you.

It’s terrifying. How easy it would be to give in. To let yourself fall completely.

Your fingers tighten around the fabric of his shirt, like holding onto him will keep you steady. But the truth is, you’ve never felt more unsteady in your life.

Your heart is pounding so hard you’re afraid he can hear it.

"That's not fair," you whisper. "You make it impossible to leave, even when I know I should."

His hands slide down, fingers curling around yours. His grip is steady, unwavering—like he's making a promise without saying a word.

"You don't have to leave," he murmurs. "Not from me."

Something inside you unravels, thread by thread.

“I love you,” you whisper, the words barely audible, fragile like a confession and a surrender all at once.

A breath shudders out of you. Your heart is beating too fast, too loud, like it’s trying to drown out your fear, your hesitation—every thought in your head that tells you this is too much, too dangerous.

But then his forehead dips to rest against yours, and suddenly, none of it matters.

His hands slide down, gripping yours like he’s anchoring himself, like if he lets go, you might disappear.

And then, after a long, aching beat—

"..."

“…Taesan.”

Your voice is a whisper, but it breaks something in him. You feel it in the way his hands tighten, in the way his breath catches. And when he finally pulls back to look at you, his gaze is raw—wide open in a way you’ve never seen before.

Like he’s been waiting to hear his name fall from your lips like this. Like it’s the only thing that’s ever mattered.

He swallows, his throat bobbing. “Say it again.”

You almost laugh, but it comes out more like a sob.

“Taesan.”

This time, he doesn’t hesitate.

His hands cup your face, and then—he’s kissing you.

It’s soft at first. Gentle, hesitant, like he’s scared to break you. But then you’re leaning into him, gripping the front of his shirt like he’s the only thing keeping you upright, and whatever restraint he had shatters.

The kiss deepens, slow and consuming, like he’s trying to pour every unspoken word into you. Like he’s memorizing the way you taste, the way you sigh into him. Like he knows—knows—that the moment you pull away, the world will come crashing back in.

But for now—for this moment—it’s just him. Just you.

And nothing else.

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@coriihanniee ☁️

🕊 - I saw all your comments on the last chapter WHAT DID I DO TO MAKE Y'ALL THINK IT'S JAEHYUN HELP HAHAHA???

Soobin placed a hand over his heart in mock offense. “Wow. So cold. Let’s see… The last time we saw each other was a month ago, before your exams. That means the stress is over. You probably missed your favorite person on Earth—me—and now here I am, gracing you with my presence.” He grinned, his voice dripping with playful sarcasm. “So, I don’t see why you’re not grinning like the peach that you are.”

You rolled your eyes, but a smile was already creeping onto your face. “You’re insufferable.”

“Ah, there it is! A smile!” He pointed at you triumphantly. “See? You did miss me.”

You groaned, lightly shoving his shoulder. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

He chuckled, slinging an arm over your shoulder like old times. “Too late, Kiddo.”

“You’ve got to stop calling me that.” You brushed his arm off your shoulder before narrowing your eyes at him. “Also, why the hell are you here? In your uniform, no less… You’re attracting way too much attention.”

Your gaze flickered around, noticing your schoolmates whispering, gasping, and outright staring. Some pointed in disbelief, eyes wide as they took in the sight of your unfortunately handsome best friend—now made even more infuriatingly attractive in his full pilot uniform.

“I didn’t have time to change if I wanted to pick you up,” he said casually.

“You didn’t have to pick me up.”

“Oh? And who’s gonna drive you home then?”

“I’ve been taking the bus since you left.”

“Don’t say it like I abandoned you.”

You wanted to say but you did, but you swallowed the words instead.

“Alright,” he sighed, nodding. “Fine. Next time, I’ll wear a tank top and jeans when I pick you up. How about that?”

—

On the way back, you couldn’t help but steal glances at him. How was work? How was his training? How was—well, how was everything? But somehow, you couldn’t bring yourself to ask any of those questions. Still, Soobin knew you well enough.

“I’m okay,” he said, as if reading your thoughts. “I’ll always be okay.” He grinned, his eyes curling into full crescents.

You nodded. “Good. I don’t need the only person in my life to—”

“I won’t.” He ruffled your hair. “C’mon. I’m me. Do you really think something’s gonna—”

“Don’t.” You glared at him.

Soobin, with his towering height, sharp vision, and unshakable determination, had always dreamed of becoming a pilot. Ever since you were kids, he had talked about flying—how he wanted to touch the clouds, how the sky felt like the only place vast enough to hold his ambitions. You had always supported him, picturing him in a crisp commercial pilot’s uniform, announcing flight routes in his deep, steady voice.

But that wasn’t enough for him. He didn’t just want to fly; he wanted to soar. Instead of charting safe routes in passenger planes, he had set his sights on something more dangerous, more demanding. He had signed up to be a fighter pilot—a career that meant grueling training, high-stakes missions, and a future teetering between triumph and risk.

You had argued with him about it before, pleaded with him to reconsider. But Soobin, stubborn as ever, had only grinned and said, “If I’m going to fly, I might as well reach for the impossible, right?” 

“Soobin,” You attempted to argue but you knew him better than anyone else. He was just as stubborn as he was perfect. 

“I’m gonna be fine and I’m always gonna be beside you. I promise.”

And here he was, right beside you. Just like he promised.

—

The two of you sat at the dinner table, your legs swinging back and forth, occasionally bumping against Soobin’s calves.

“I like what you’ve done with the apartment,” Soobin remarked, glancing around.

“Nothing’s changed.”

“I beg to differ.” He shoved a piece of chicken into his mouth before standing up, making his way toward a single flower sitting in a makeshift vase. He tilted his head, inspecting it with amusement. “And hey, you even buy flowers now.”

“I didn’t get them,” you replied, shrugging. “You know me and flowers… I say it’ll be dead in a few days.”

“Three, max.” He chuckled before giving the flower another once-over, noticing a small tag tied on the stalk of the rose. “Beomgyu?” He turned back to you, raising a brow. “Who’s that?”

“A classmate,” you said casually. “He gave me those flowers for Valentine’s. It’s nothing, really.”

“A boy?” He muttered, his expression shifting as he sauntered over to you. “Kiddo’s all grown up.”

“He’s just a classmate, Soobin.”

You knew better than to admit that Beomgyu had actually shown interest in you. The last time Soobin found out someone had potential feelings for you, the poor boy had shown up to school looking visibly distressed—and nearly teared up every time you so much as glanced at him.

“He gave them to everyone then?” Soobin pressed.

You stayed silent.

"Oh," he smirked, his voice dripping with amusement. "So Kiddo’s got an admirer."

"It’s not like that," you tried to explain, shaking your head. "We just worked together on an assignment, and we did really well. He’s a good guy."

"A good guy," Soobin repeated, nodding slowly. "Not your favorite though, right?"

You laughed, tilting your head at him. "Are you jealous?"

He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Kinda, yeah. I’m worried someone’s gonna take my place."

You hadn’t expected him to be so blunt. Rolling your eyes, you kicked his ankle under the table. He groaned, grabbing his leg dramatically.

"As if anyone could replace you," you scoffed. "Look… you’ve been gone for a month, we barely see each other—maybe two weeks total in an entire year—but I’m still wearing the necklace you got me. Every day. Just in case you actually remember me and decide to show up."

His playful demeanor shifted in an instant. His eyes darkened, lips pressing together as he took a step closer.

"Kiddo," he said, voice quieter now. "I do remember you."

"Sure you do."

His jaw clenched, and before you could react, he was moving—slow, deliberate steps closing the space between you.

"Do you think," his voice was low, almost dangerous, "that a single day goes by where I don’t think about you?"

Your breath hitched. The last time he was this serious was when you had accidentally shut off the electricity in the middle of his ranked game. But this was different.

Soobin stopped at the leg of your chair, leaning down until his face was mere inches from yours. His cologne—clean, crisp, a little like rain—filled your senses. His gaze flickered from your eyes to your lips, lingering there just long enough for your pulse to stutter.

"Because if you do," he murmured, his voice dropping lower, "you’d be lying to yourself."

"Wh-why so?" Your voice came out weaker than you intended.

He exhaled softly, his hand resting on the back of your chair, effectively trapping you between him and the table.

"You always say you know me better than anyone." His eyes never left yours. "So if you really do… then you’d know just how much this—" he motioned between the two of you, his fingers grazing your wrist "—means to me."

Your heart pounded.

"I think about you before I sleep. When I wake up. When I’m in class. Hell, even when I’m up in the sky."

You swallowed hard, your breath shaky. "That’s… a lot."

"And that’s only half of it." His voice had grown impossibly deep, sending a shiver down your spine.

Your fingers curled into your lap. The tension between you crackled, thick, suffocating. Your lips parted involuntarily, and for a second—just a second—you swore he was about to close the distance.

Then, suddenly, his smile returned, effortlessly lazy.

"But of course," he mused, pulling back just enough to make your chest tighten, "I do think of other things."

Just like that, the moment was gone. The breath you’d been holding escaped in a rush, your head spinning from the heat of it all.

Soobin, ever the tease, just grinned—like he hadn’t just turned your entire world upside down.

—

When you were nine, lost and alone for the first time, Soobin’s mother took you in. You were angry—at the world, at the circumstances that had ripped you away from everything familiar. And Soobin, a few years older, became the unfortunate target of your fury. You lashed out, pushed him away every time he tried to get close. You hated everything.

But Soobin never stopped trying.

At ten, something shifted. One morning, you woke up feeling just a little less angry. The walls you had built weren’t gone, but they had cracks. That day, for the first time, you ate the bowl of cereal Soobin had prepared for you. It was soggy by the time you finally touched it, but he didn’t care. His grin stretched wide, brighter than the morning sun, because it was the first thing you had accepted from him.

At eleven, you started lingering in his room. You never asked, never said a word, just sat there as he played video games or flipped through a book. He never questioned it. He’d toss you a controller, let you pick the next movie, slide half of his blanket over when the air got too cold.

By twelve, the two of you were inseparable. He was the older brother you never had, the one who understood your silences, who never pried but always stayed. The one who made a home feel a little less lonely.

“Soobin,” you called out, your voice barely above a whisper. The room was dark, shadows stretching across the walls as the faint glow of the streetlights seeped through the curtains. You had just woken up, your hair a tangled mess, your pink pajamas standing out starkly against the dimly lit space. But Soobin wasn’t there.

You rubbed the sleep from your eyes, shifting uncomfortably on your feet. “Soobin?” you tried again, a little louder this time.

“Kiddo.”

You jumped at the sudden voice behind you, your heart nearly leaping out of your chest. You turned to see him standing by the door, arms crossed, his expression amused. “What’re you doing up so late?”

You felt ridiculous admitting the truth—that the thunder had startled you, that the loud crashes outside had made the emptiness of the room feel unbearable.

“Nothing,” you muttered, hugging your pillow tighter.

Soobin tilted his head, unconvinced. “The thunder scare you?”

You stayed silent, refusing to confirm it, but he knew you too well.

With a small sigh, he walked over and patted the bed. “C’mon. Sleep here.”

Your eyes widened slightly. “What about you?”

He nodded toward the couch in the corner of his room. “I’ll sleep there. It’s fine.”

You hesitated, but the warmth of his presence was comforting. “Are you sure?”

Soobin smiled, the kind of smile that made you feel safe. “Just call my name if you need anything.”

At age 19, when Soobin told you he had been accepted into flight school, it felt like the ground beneath you shifted. You were happy for him, of course, proud even. But the truth was, a deep, overwhelming sense of devastation settled in your chest. Your rock—your anchor—was leaving. The one constant in your life, the person you could always count on, was being pulled away. 

He’d be gone for months at a time, and when he came back, it would only be for a few weekends. Maybe a week in total over the span of a year. It wasn’t enough. It would never be enough.

Tears welled up in your eyes as you turned away, not wanting to face him. Soobin, standing there in his oversized jacket, the duffel bag slung over his shoulder, looked more like a stranger than the best friend you’d grown up with. You couldn’t bear to watch him leave.

He tapped your shoulder gently, but you shrugged it off, determined to keep your composure. You didn’t want him to see how much it hurt, how much you would miss him.

“I’m fine,” you hiccuped, your voice cracking as you tried to stifle the sobs. But the tears kept coming, breaking through the facade you were desperately trying to maintain.

Soobin stepped closer, his hand resting gently on your back. “It’ll just be for a few months,” he said softly, his voice steady, though you could hear the weight of his own emotions beneath it. “I’ll come back to you the moment I can.”

But even then, it didn’t feel like enough.

—

There was something unnerving about people who could sleep through anything, even in the midst of a distressing situation. You watched as Soobin—always so unbothered, so calm—drifted off easily, his breathing steady and deep, while you lay wide awake, caught in your own thoughts.

Your relationship with Soobin had always been easy to define—older brother and younger sister. It was simple, comfortable, and familiar. But as the years passed, as you both grew older, the lines started to blur. You had friends with older brothers, but none of them had the same dynamic you shared with Soobin. Sure, Soobin wasn’t your biological brother, but he had always felt like one. And maybe that was part of the problem.

Lately, you found yourself tossing and turning in bed, wondering exactly what your relationship with Soobin was. You could be yourself around him, no question there. But somehow, there was a hesitation now, a wariness. You walked on eggshells, careful of every word, every movement. Always afraid that you might accidentally do something that would make him see you differently—make him find you... well, embarrassing.

But the thing was, it didn’t matter how careful you were. You always ended up embarrassing yourself anyway. Whether it was a slip-up in conversation or a stupid mistake that left you red-faced, it seemed like there was no escaping it. Soobin never made you feel bad for it, though. He never pointed out how awkward you could be. But that only made the moments of embarrassment sting more, because you weren’t sure if he noticed and just didn’t say anything—or if he actually didn’t mind. Or worse, if he didn’t even care at all.

You sighed, burying your face in the pillow. Whatever it was, it was complicated. And tonight, it felt heavier than usual.

—

“Are you fucking kidding me?” You muttered to yourself, standing at the entrance of your campus, staring at the sky as the rain came pouring down in thick sheets. Your bright dress, now damp and clinging to your skin, felt like a cruel joke in the face of nature's wrath. Of all the days to forget your umbrella, it had to be the day the sky opened up like hell itself.

“Need some shade?” A voice broke through your frustration. You turned to find Beomgyu, his familiar grin plastered across his face.

You sighed in relief. “Oh, thank God. I thought I was going to be stuck in this stupid rain forever. Not to mention, I have about three assignments from Mr. Kang due today.”

“You’re not done?” Beomgyu’s laughter rang out, clearly amused by your predicament.

“No,” you groaned, “I stayed up all night yesterday, playing ranked with someone who wouldn’t let me sleep.” You shot a side-eye at him.

“Weren’t you the one who kept saying, ‘one more! One more!’” Beomgyu teased, nudging you lightly as he stood beside you.

“Actually—”

A throat cleared from in front of you.

You froze, recognizing the deep, familiar voice before you even had the chance to look up. There he was. Soobin. The last time you'd seen him, he had almost kissed you at the dining table, leaving you in a whirlwind of confusion.

And now, there he stood—dressed in his aviator uniform, the same one he’d promised not to wear around your campus. It was a strange mix of familiar and foreign, making your heart skip a beat. In his hand, he held a yellow umbrella, an offering that seemed to make the rain somehow less threatening.

“Soobin,” you blinked, still caught off guard by the unexpected encounter.

“Kiddo,” he said, your nickname slipping from his lips with such bite that it almost felt like a curse, the venom in his tone thick enough to feel.

“Hey, Beom. Why don’t we just catch up next time? I think... I’ll head out with my brother.” You fumbled over the words, the awkwardness of the situation sinking in.

Beomgyu looked between you and Soobin, brows furrowing. “I didn’t know you had a brother.”

“She doesn’t,” Soobin responded, his voice colder than usual as he tugged at your wrist, pulling you under the shelter of his umbrella and away from Beomgyu’s.

As you walked side by side, the weight of the silence between you and Soobin grew thicker with each step. The rain pelted down around you, but somehow, it only intensified the tension that seemed to have appeared out of nowhere. Every step you took toward his car felt like it carried an unspoken question hanging in the air, something that neither of you were ready to address.

The usual playful banter, the comfortable teasing, was nowhere to be found. It was just you, him, and the storm.

“Brother,” he repeated, his voice low, a strange edge to it. “Is that what I am?”

You bit your tongue, resisting the urge to say, Isn’t that what you are? but you held back. The last thing you wanted was for him to be even angrier than he already was.

“You can’t always barge into my school—” you started, but he cut you off.

“I didn’t barge in. And it’s not like I’m always around. I only get to see you three times a year,” he shot back, frustration clear in his voice.

“And whose fault is that?” You raised your voice, the heat of your own irritation rising.

The words hung in the air between you, charged with the unspoken resentment that had been building for months, maybe even longer. Each sentence felt like it was leading somewhere neither of you were ready to go.

“You don’t think this is driving me crazy?” His voice cracked, the frustration in his tone raw and desperate.

“What?” you asked, unable to understand where he was going.

“This…” He stopped walking, turning to face you fully, his eyes dark with emotion. The rain hammered down on both of you, the world around you drowned in the heavy downpour. “I dread every single time I have to go back to school, but you—" He took a breath, his chest rising and falling as if the words were physically painful. "You don’t understand how hard it is for me, do you?"

You shook your head, fighting the urge to pull away. "Then why’d you have to leave?"

His face softened, but there was still tension, thick and unresolved between you two. “This is my dream, kiddo. I can’t just give it up.”

In your head, when you were rational, you understood him. You knew this was his dream, knew he was doing what he needed for himself. But the irrational part of you—the selfish, bitter part—hated him for leaving you behind.

And right now, that irrational part was winning.

—-

Two months passed, and Soobin kept his promise, making an effort to call you, FaceTime you, and stay connected. His presence, even from miles away, felt constant, like he was always there, right beside you, despite the distance.

“My school’s having an open house next week. Care for a tour?” Soobin’s voice came through the speaker of your phone, his eyes bright as he grinned at you through the screen.

You were getting ready to go out with your friends, carefully applying your makeup, with Soobin’s FaceTime open in the background. Every so often, you'd catch him staring at you. A small smile tugged at your lips as you caught him watching.

“Sounds boring,” you teased, tilting your head as you brushed on mascara.

“C’mon. You finally get to see what I’ve been doing!” he pressed, leaning in closer to the screen. The playful glint in his eyes was impossible to miss.

“A bunch of men in sunglasses, walking around—how’s that fun?” you joked, giving him a look.

“You get to see me,” Soobin grinned, his expression softening as if that was the only reason you’d need.

You paused for a second, the playful tension between you two flickering in the air. Soobin never seemed to shy away from making you smile, and just hearing his voice was a comfort, even if it was through a screen.

“Fine. But what do I get out of this?” you challenged, a smirk playing on your lips.

Soobin’s face lit up, his eyes gleaming mischievously. “I’ll treat you to the best steak dinner in town,” he sang, practically grinning ear to ear.

“Fine.”

—

You tiptoed, scanning the expansive campus before you, feeling like a small fish in an ocean of ivy-covered buildings and sleek modern structures. This wasn’t anything like your school. While your own college had its charm—basic yet cozy—this place was a whole new level. Soobin had told you countless stories about his prestigious flight school, but you hadn’t quite grasped the sheer scale of it until now.

You scratched the back of your head, feeling entirely out of place. The student helper had handed you a map with a bright smile, showing you the way, but now, standing here, all you felt was confusion. The buildings were enormous, towering over you in their stark, polished splendor.

Your eyes scanned the map again, trying to make sense of it. "For Pete's sake," you muttered under your breath, "I'm a marketing major, not a map reader." The arrows, the numbers, the squiggly lines—they all blurred together as you tried to figure out where to go next.

You tilted your head, feeling even more disoriented. Maybe it wasn’t the worst idea to just follow the crowd and hope they were heading in the right direction, but the thought of getting lost in this campus—alone—didn’t sit well with you. Soobin had warned you it was big, but you had no idea it was this... overwhelming.

With a sigh, you stuffed the map into your bag and made your way toward the nearest building, hoping for some sort of sign. You were here for him, after all, so you might as well try to make the most of it.

“I knew you'd get lost.” You heard Soobin’s voice before you saw him, and when you turned around, he was standing there, hands casually tucked in his pockets, a grin already playing at his lips.

“Soobin!” you exclaimed, rushing toward him without thinking. You jumped into his arms, and before you knew it, his strong arms were securely around your waist, lifting you off the ground. You wrapped your legs around his waist, holding onto his shoulders tightly as he spun you around with a surprised laugh.

“Whoa there!” Soobin chuckled, his voice low but warm. He adjusted you in his arms, steadying you as you both laughed. “Miss me that much?” he teased, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

“No idea what you’re talking about,” you grinned, playfully pretending to look away as if it was no big deal, even though your heart was racing just a little faster from being so close to him.

“Well, I didn’t know our captain had a little girlfriend,” Soobin heard the teasing voice, and as he turned, he spotted his classmate, Yeonjun, casually strolling over with a knowing grin on his face.

Soobin’s cheeks flushed slightly at the comment, and he quickly shifted his gaze back to you, still holding you in his arms. You, in turn, gave him an exaggerated pout, sensing the awkwardness creeping in but unable to hide your playful smile.

"Hey!" Soobin called out, waving at Yeonjun, and then turning to you with a sheepish smile. "Uh, this is Yeonjun, my buddy from school, and this is my..." Soobin trailed off, his words hanging in the air for a moment as he awkwardly fumbled for a way to introduce you.

You raised an eyebrow, waiting for the rest of his sentence. Your hands still resting on his shoulders, you felt a playful tug at your lips, enjoying the teasing moment.

“Well?” you prompted with a teasing grin, your heart fluttering with excitement.

Soobin let out a small sigh, clearly not expecting the teasing tone in your voice. He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, glancing between you and Yeonjun before simply introducing you with just your name.

You smiled, though there was a hint of disappointment in the simplicity of his introduction. It was no surprise, really. After all, things between you and Soobin had never been clear-cut. The bond between the two of you had always felt different than any friendship you’d had before. You weren't sure if it was just the history, the closeness, or something more. And maybe he didn’t either.

But for a moment, you wondered if that was the problem. Maybe Soobin was as unsure as you were about the lines between friendship and something else. You tried to push the thought away, not wanting to make things awkward with his friend or with Soobin, but you couldn't help the way your heart sank a little.

You could feel your cheeks heating up. It was funny, wasn't it? How a few words could stir up so many feelings.

You decided to let it go, brushing it off with a small laugh, not wanting to make things weird. “Well, nice to meet you, Yeonjun,” you said with a smile, even though a small part of you was still wondering what you really meant to Soobin.

—

Soobin was practically beaming as he led you through the bustling campus, introducing you to what seemed like every single person he passed. You were taken aback by how popular he was—lecturers waving at him from across the hall, students stopping to chat, and even the cafeteria lady greeting him by name. 

As he continued to show you around, he gestured toward a large open area ahead of you. Your eyes widened in awe as you saw rows of jets and small planes lined up, gleaming in the sunlight. 

“And this is, of course, where the magic happens,” Soobin said.

You stood in awe, unable to hide your excitement. "This is so cool. I had no idea it would be this... massive," you said, still taking it all in.

Then, with that mischievous glint in his eyes, Soobin shot you a confident smirk. "Wanna see me go for a spin?" he asked, clearly enjoying the attention his world was getting from you.

You blinked, taken aback by his sudden offer. “Is that allowed?” you asked, your voice almost timid as you tried to understand the logistics of what he was suggesting.

Soobin waved off your concern with a casual shrug, the cocky grin still firmly in place. “Yeah, I just gotta make sure the control tower knows what’s up.” He nodded.

You laughed nervously, but the thrill of being with Soobin in his element started to take over. “Alright, Mr. Confident. Show me what you got.” You crossed your arms, trying to look more composed than you felt, but your heart was racing. 

Soobin's world was so far beyond anything you had ever imagined, and yet, somehow, being here with him made everything feel... a little more exciting.

“Soobin, what are you—” you started to ask, but he was already pulling you toward one of the planes, his grip firm but gentle on your wrist.

“C’mon,” he urged with a playful smile. “Just sit here and wear this. It’s gonna get… a little loud.” He handed you a pair of large headphones, the kind you might wear at a concert or a race track, and gently placed them on your head before you could protest.

You adjusted the thick, padded ear covers, feeling a bit out of place but oddly excited. "Loud? What do you mean by loud?" you asked, eyeing him skeptically, though the thrill was starting to build inside you.

With a grin, Soobin gave you a wink. “Trust me, you’ll see,” he said, giving you one last reassuring squeeze on your wrist before heading to the cockpit.

You watched as he climbed into the plane, his movements smooth and confident. He looked like someone born to be up there, and for a moment, you forgot about everything else, just taking in the sight of him preparing for takeoff.

“Ready to feel the wind?” Soobin called out, his voice barely audible but still full of that familiar playful tone.

You gave him a thumbs up, a nervous smile tugging at your lips. “I guess I am now!”

The engine roared to life, vibrations running through the ground as the plane’s power surged forward, filling the air with an electric buzz. The noise was deafening, and the plane’s tires rolled across the runway, lifting off into the sky with incredible speed.

There he was, soaring higher and higher, the once small figure on the ground now a speck in the vast expanse above you. The excitement in your chest bloomed as you watched, a mix of awe and pride flooding over you. Soobin was up there, living his dream, and you could only watch.

As you watched him soar higher into the sky, your chest swelled with pride. The frustration, the anger, all the times you had felt hurt by his absence seemed so small now, like distant memories fading in the vastness of the present moment. Watching him take off, you realized something: those petty arguments, those moments of selfishness, they didn’t matter anymore.

“I’m really proud of you,” you said, speaking into the headphones as if the words might somehow reach him in the air. You meant it with every ounce of your being.

Through the muffled sound, Soobin’s voice came back, light but filled with warmth. “You are?”

You nodded, even though he couldn’t see it. “I am.”

You didn’t know if he could hear the emotion in your voice, but it didn’t matter. He had always known how you felt, even when words were hard to come by. 

—

“Do you really have to go back so soon?” Soobin’s voice carried a mix of reluctance and something deeper, something unspoken.

You glanced at your phone and sighed. “Soobin, you have class at 5, and it’s already 4:30. I’ve overstayed my welcome. The open house ended two hours ago. It’s time for me to go.”

“Where’s your hotel? I’ll come see you after my training,” he offered quickly, his words almost spilling out too fast, as if he were trying to find a way to keep you here longer.

You gave him a small, understanding smile. “Doesn’t your training end at night?”

“It’s only two hours, I’ll be done by 8 at the latest,” he replied, his voice sounding more desperate, though he tried to mask it with that confident tone you were so used to.

You shook your head softly, though your heart fluttered at his insistence. “Then you should get some rest. You have that flying test tomorrow, and I don’t want to be the reason you’re too tired to focus—”

“You sound like you’re trying to get rid of me,” Soobin muttered, a sigh slipping from his lips, though there was a clear sadness in his voice that made your heart ache.

“Trust me, that’s the last thing on my mind,” you said quickly, your voice soft but sincere. “I just want you to be safe, sound, and well-rested. You’re only half a year away from graduating. You need to ace this test, Soobin. You’ve got to be the best.”

“Fine. You’re right,” Soobin sighed again, but this time, there was an underlying weight to his words. He took a step closer to you, his gaze softening as his eyes lingered on your face. It was almost as if he wanted to say more, something deeper, something that was building between the two of you.

You could see it in the way he looked at you, the way his lips parted slightly, as though he was debating whether to kiss you then and there. But instead, he pulled back, running a hand through his hair in frustration, as if trying to push away the overwhelming emotions he was feeling.

“Alright. I’ll rest. But... I’ll miss you, you know,” Soobin added quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.

You smiled softly, a warmth spreading through your chest. “I’ll miss you too, Soobin. Just take care of yourself. You’ve got this.”

–

At the hotel, you paced around, your thoughts tangled in a mess of emotions. It was your last night in town, and as much as you tried to enjoy the moments you had left, something gnawed at you. You missed Soobin. You craved more of those quiet, private moments with him, just the two of you. 

The selfish thoughts crept in again. You thought about how he was always the one picking you up from school, how he was always there for you when you needed him. But now, you wanted to do something for him. You wanted to surprise him. Maybe, just maybe, you could be the one to pick him up for once. He deserved it.

Without thinking twice, you grabbed your jacket, quickly dashing through the hotel lobby. The buzz of the night was fading around you as your heart raced with the urgency of the impulse.

“Taxi!” you called, waving your hand for the nearest one.

The cab pulled over, and you hopped in without a second thought. It was impulsive, reckless even, but you didn’t care. Tonight, you were going to make sure he knew how much you cared, how much you wanted to be there for him—just like he had always been for you.

You knew Soobin took the bus to his rented apartment across town from his school, so you waited at the bus stop for him. 

A few kids stood beside you, their laughter filling the air as they played with a strange contraption you couldn't quite identify. It looked like some kind of toy, and every minute or so, you could hear them squealing with excitement. It was adorable. For a moment, it reminded you of you and Soobin—the way you both would joke around and get lost in your little world.

“Hey, do you think I can be a pilot when I grow up?” the boy asked, gesturing toward the school in front of you.

“Sure, if you magically had good eyesight,” the girl giggled, flicking his glasses.

“That’s not very nice!” the boy pouted, clearly offended.

“I’m kidding! I just don’t want you to go. My mummy says that if you go to flight school, you’ll have to stay here for almost three years. You can’t leave me!” the girl yelled, her tone playful but filled with sincerity.

“I won’t! You’re my friend!” the boy reassured her.

“Friend?” she asked with a dramatic pause.

“Okay, fine. Best friend. But I have lots of best friends. One of them can draw really well, and another one can run really fast,” the boy bragged, puffing out his chest.

“You’re not the only one with many friends. I have one too! A friend who can do a backflip! So I think my friend’s definitely cooler than yours!” the girl argued confidently.

“Nuh-uh,” the boy shot back.

“Yuh-huh!” the girl retorted, sticking her tongue out.

“MISS!” Both kids suddenly turned and looked at you in unison, startling you.

You blinked in surprise, eyes widening. “Huh?”

“Can you please tell us whose best friend you think is the coolest?” they both asked, their little eyes sparkling with anticipation.

Just as you were about to answer, a familiar voice called out from behind you.

“What are you doing here?” Soobin’s voice rang out, and you turned to see him standing there, looking both surprised and slightly out of breath. His uniform clung to his sweaty body, his hair tousled from a long day’s work. Despite it all, he looked… really good.

“Surprise!” you smiled, the excitement bubbling inside you at the sight of him.

He blinked, clearly caught off guard, and then his lips curved into a smile as he took in the scene—the two kids staring at you, waiting for an answer, and you standing there, grinning like you were up to something mischievous.

“Well, now I’m curious too,” he chuckled, his voice softening as he stepped closer, his gaze never leaving you. The tension between you two seemed to fill the air as he stood there, waiting for you to respond to the kids’ question. “Who has the coolest best friend?” 

Your eyes flicked from top to bottom, taking in Soobin as if you were seeing him for the first time. He was a pilot, for Pete’s sake. A damn pilot who looked like he belonged in a magazine. The way his uniform clung to his body, the way his disheveled hair still made him look effortlessly perfect—it made your heart ache in ways you couldn’t explain.

And then, beyond all the looks, there was everything else.

He was the one who cooked for you when you were hungry (even if it wasn’t the greatest, you appreciated the effort). The one who would call you every time a thunderstorm rolled in just to make sure you could sleep through the noise. He was the one who ordered food for you during exam weeks when you’d forget to eat, completely consumed by your studies.

Soobin was the kind of person who thought of you before himself, every single time. And as you stood there, watching him, it hit you just how lucky you were to have him in your life. But it also left you wondering why you had been so reluctant to admit it.

“Are you just going to stand there, or are you going to tell us whose best friend is cooler?” the little boy’s voice snapped you out of your thoughts, his eager gaze pulling you back to reality.

You blinked, a small laugh escaping your lips as you glanced between Soobin and the kids. There was no contest. “Well, I think,” you paused, locking eyes with Soobin. “My best friend is definitely the coolest.”

The girl rolled her eyes, crossing her arms with an exaggerated sigh. “You’re just saying that because he’s handsome,” she muttered, clearly unimpressed.

“Oh please, my best friend’s a pilot—that’s way cooler than whatever you’ve got going on!” you shot back, sticking your tongue out at her.

The boy gasped dramatically, pointing at you. “You’re a grown woman fighting a child!” he accused, his finger still aimed in your direction.

You raised an eyebrow, feigning mock offense. “I’ll have you know, I’m just a grown woman with excellent taste.” You turned to Soobin, who was standing there, slightly amused by the whole interaction. "Don’t worry, they’re just jealous."

The kids both groaned in unison, clearly giving up on the argument. They turned away, muttering something about how unfair the world was.

“You’re such a loser.” Soobin laughed.

—

"So, this is your bachelor pad?" you asked, glancing around the apartment as you took it all in. The black and white decor was sleek and minimalist, just like Soobin himself. It was everything you'd imagined, yet still somehow more.

You hadn’t seen this place in person before, only catching glimpses of it through his Facetime calls. But now, it was real—and you were here.

Soobin had been quiet ever since the bus stop. You didn’t think much of it. He was probably just tired.

"I can cook dinner for you!" you offered, standing up from the couch, eager to do something.

But before you could take a step, Soobin reached out and pulled you back down, making you sit beside him again.

"Huh?" you blinked, confused by the sudden action. "You okay?"

He nodded slowly, but his eyes were heavy, his exhaustion evident. He reached up, his hand gently cupping your cheek before sliding through your hair.

You froze as his face came closer to yours. For a moment, you didn’t quite understand what was happening. But then, your cheeks flushed crimson as you realized. Your heart started to race, and you felt the weight of his presence more than ever before.

"Soobin?" you whispered, voice barely a sound.

"You don’t know what you do to me," he murmured, his voice low and rough. His gaze dropped to your lips, and his thumb brushed gently across them, sending a shiver through your body. "You have no idea how much I want you."

"Soobin?" The whisper left your lips again, barely audible, as you looked up into his eyes, searching for something—clarity, maybe. You weren’t sure.

His hand tightened its hold on your hair, pulling you closer. His breath was warm against your skin, and for a moment, neither of you spoke.

“I’ve been wanting this for so long,” he confessed, his voice barely a whisper, but it felt like the heaviest thing you’d ever heard. His fingers trailed down your jaw, before resting on your neck, gently tracing the curve.

"Soobin..." your voice was barely a breath, filled with an emotion you couldn’t quite name, but your body knew. His face was so close now, his lips hovering just above yours. 

But before anything could happen, Soobin fell back into the couch, his eyes shutting, his body sinking with a soft exhale. The tension in the air seemed to evaporate, replaced by a quiet exhaustion you hadn’t noticed before.

You froze, caught off guard. Soobin's chest rose and fell steadily, his body heavy with the weight of the day.

You sat there for a moment, unsure of what to do next. His hand still rested near your face, but his focus was elsewhere now. His lips were parted slightly as he breathed deeply, clearly drained.

"Soobin?" You tried shaking him gently, your voice soft, but he didn’t stir.

He was asleep. Fully asleep. The weight of the day must've finally caught up with him. You let out a small chuckle, watching the way he looked so peaceful, the kind of tiredness that only came after giving so much of himself.

—

The next morning came with a jarring sound. You jolted awake as loud pans clattered together, and your eyes quickly flicked to the kitchen.

"Soobin?" You called out groggily.

"Shit, did I wake you?" His voice floated back to you, and you spotted him shirtless, moving around the kitchen with a slight sense of chaos in the air.

A part of you wanted to shield your eyes, but another part of you couldn’t help but appreciate the sight. You quickly turned away, reminding yourself that this was Soobin.

"Kinda," you muttered, still avoiding his gaze.

"I was just gonna make you some eggs before you head back to the city," he said, nonchalant, like the situation was completely normal.

You nodded, still looking away, eyes glued on the floor. "Oh."

You heard him chuckle softly as his footsteps grew louder, and then his large palm was suddenly resting on top of your head. You stiffened, feeling the warmth of his touch.

"Something on the floor, kiddo?" Soobin teased, his voice light. "I can put a shirt on if you like."

"It’s okay. It’s your house. I’m just a guest," you mumbled, your voice small as you tried to hide the way your heart was racing from the proximity.

"You’re not even looking at me," he continued, playful.

“It’s not my fault you're walking around half-naked in the apartment–” You looked up, intending to be annoyed, but your words died as you met his gaze, realizing how close your faces were. The air between you felt charged, and your eyes briefly flicked to his abs — defined, sculpted, distracting — before your face turned beet red.

“Cover up,” you muttered quickly, reaching for his shirt and tossing it to him.

He caught it with a grin, but didn’t immediately put it on, still teasing you with that mischievous glint in his eyes. "What’s the rush, kiddo? It’s just me."

You could barely manage a glare, your hands fumbling awkwardly in your lap. "Just... put it on," you repeated, your voice quieter this time.

As you sat on his dining table, you swung your legs, nudging his ankles with yours.

“You still do this?” he said, glancing at you.

“Huh?” you replied, not fully realizing what you were doing.

“Swinging your feet,” he mumbled, glancing at your legs.

“Oh right,” you quickly stopped, suddenly self-conscious.

“I wasn’t complaining,” Soobin said with a small chuckle. “In fact, I kinda miss it. Do you remember how much Mom used to scold you for that?”

You nodded with a smirk. “And you didn’t help when you constantly complained about it to her!”

He grinned, leaning back in his chair. “Hey, someone had to take the fall. It wasn’t like you were going to stop on your own.”

You rolled your eyes playfully. “Right, like you were any better. Always tattling on me.”

Soobin laughed softly. “I wasn’t tattling. I was just... helping Mom keep track of your chaos.”

“I wasn’t that bad!” you protested, though you both knew that wasn’t entirely true. You both had your moments as kids.

“You were always full of energy,” he said with a fond smile. “But I think I miss that. The energy, I mean. Things were simpler back then, weren’t they?”

You paused, the weight of his words settling in. “Yeah... simpler,” you echoed, realizing he was right. Those moments, despite the annoyance at the time, had a kind of warmth to them that you missed.

Soobin glanced at you, his expression softening. "You know, you’re still my little sister, right? Even if you’ve changed a lot, I’ll always see you like that."

You looked up at him, a swirl of emotions swirling in your chest. "I know," you said quietly, a faint smile tugging at your lips.

It was funny—little sister. The words rang in your ears, and though they should’ve comforted you, they did something else entirely. You’d always taken comfort in his protective nature, his constant care, but today, the familiar title struck a chord inside you. Little sister. The term felt almost too distant now. A part of you realized, maybe for the first time, that you didn’t want to be just his little sister anymore. Maybe that wasn’t the role you wanted to play in his life.

You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, glancing down at the table. “I guess I’m still that little kid to you, huh?” you said, trying to keep your tone light.

Soobin’s lips twitched, a small smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. “Always will be,” he said, his voice playful but with an undertone of warmth.

But as you sat there across from him, something shifted inside of you. You weren’t sure exactly when it happened, but in that moment—sitting at his dining table, surrounded by the comfort of the past—you realized something that made your heart race a little faster. It wasn’t just the memories, the shared history, that made you feel so drawn to him. It wasn’t just because you’d always seen him as the older brother who took care of you.

No, there was something more. Something deeper.

The realization hit you like a wave, and you almost choked on your breath. You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, looking anywhere but at him. But you couldn’t shake the truth from your mind.

You looked up at him again, but this time, it wasn’t the same. You couldn’t look at him and think of him as just Soobin, your older brother. There was an undeniable pull between you that made your heart ache with confusion, longing, and something else you couldn’t quite name.

“I don’t get it.” You felt something stirring in your chest, that uncomfortable mix of desire and confusion. “You call me your little sister…”

“Soobin looked up, brow furrowed. “Hm?”

“You call me your little sister. But we’ve kissed.” you continued, your voice tinged with frustration. You let out a bitter laugh, trying to hide how vulnerable you felt. “How is that… how does that work?”

You swallowed hard, trying to keep your emotions in check. The questions were swirling in your mind, and you couldn't stop them from spilling out. "I just—" You stopped yourself, realizing how tangled your feelings had become. You didn’t want to push him away, but you also didn’t want to continue pretending that there was nothing more than what you thought you had.

Soobin watched you closely, his expression softening. “Isn’t that what you want to be?” His voice was quieter now, more sincere.

You blinked, confused. “What?”

"Isn’t that what you want to be?” Soobin repeated, his gaze searching yours. “That’s what you called me…when Beomgyu was there.”

You stayed quiet, knowing what he had said was true.

Soobin’s expression shifted, his eyes searching yours. For a moment, the room was silent, the weight of your words hanging between you both.

“So, what are we then?” His voice was barely a whisper, as if he feared saying the wrong thing.

You swirled your spoon around the oatmeal Soobin had made for you, the warm steam rising as you avoided looking directly at him. You were just as afraid of saying something wrong—afraid you might ruin everything. The delicate balance of the relationship you two had built, the connection you shared.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity of silence, you spoke, your voice barely above a whisper. “I like you. More than I should. You’re not my brother. And I don’t want you to be.”

—

The door slammed open, and there stood Soobin, eyes wild with something you couldn’t quite place. Your heart skipped a beat, and you quickly pulled away from Kai, one of your neighbours friends, the tension in the room thickening in an instant.

Soobin glared at Kai, and it was like a switch flipped inside of him. “What do you think you’re doing?” he spat, his voice low and filled with an emotion that stung.

Kai, clearly startled by Soobin's intense reaction, scrambled to get up. “I—I wasn’t doing anything. I swear, we were just—uh, talking—”

“Talking?” Soobin sneered, his eyes darkening with jealousy. “You think I’m stupid?”

You stared, frozen, watching as Kai stumbled over his words, trying to explain himself. But Soobin didn’t let him.

“I don’t want you here. Leave.” His voice was firm, and even though it was directed at Kai, the words cut deeper than they should.

Kai, terrified now, stood up quickly, nodding vigorously. “Okay, okay! I’m sorry!” He turned and practically bolted out of the room, leaving you alone with Soobin, your blood boiling.

You stared at Soobin, unable to find the words for a moment, but then you exploded. “What the hell, Soobin? Are you really that possessive of me?”

“I’m not being possessive! I’m just trying to protect you,” Soobin snapped back, but you could see the way his fists were clenched, the frustration bubbling beneath the surface.

You crossed your arms over your chest. “Protect me? From what? Him? I can protect myself, Soobin!”

Soobin took a deep breath, clearly struggling with his emotions. “You don’t get it,” he muttered, his voice softer now. “Guys... guys always have screwed-up intentions.”

Your eyes widened with frustration. “Aren’t you a guy?” you spat, your anger rising with each word.

Soobin froze. His expression faltered, and he was silent for a moment, looking at you like he was trying to process what you had just said. His face hardened.

“I’m your brother,” he finally said, his voice gruff.

“No, you’re not, Soobin,” you snapped. “We don’t even have the same parents. I’m only here because I was left alone.”

Soobin looked like you slapped him. His fists clenched tighter, and his jaw tightened. “Alone? What am I then? A doll?”

The words hit harder than you expected, and it stung more than you wanted to admit. You glared at him, your heart pounding in your chest. “You’re being annoying, and you can’t stand to see me happy, can you?”

Soobin’s face turned red, and he took a step closer, towering over you. His voice cracked with frustration. “Can’t stand to see you happy? Every. Single. Day, I spend my life trying to make you happy. Can’t you see that?”

You knew he was right. You knew he was always trying to make you happy, but you couldn’t let him win. Not now. Not like this.

“Whatever,” you muttered, turning to leave his room. But before you could even step away, Soobin spun you around, his hand gripping your wrist, pulling you toward him. Your breath caught in your throat as his hand pressed against the wall beside you, his body dangerously close.

“Tell me to stop, and I will,” he said, his voice harsh, but there was something more behind it. It was almost like he was giving you one last chance to run.

You opened your mouth to protest, to push him away, but your words died on your tongue. The air was thick between you, and before you could even register what was happening, his lips crashed against yours.

The kiss was rough, heated with months of tension, with everything unspoken between you. It was a kiss that demanded something—something you didn’t know how to respond to. His hand slid to the back of your neck, pulling you closer, his grip on you firm, like he was afraid you would disappear if he let go.

Your heart raced, your body frozen between wanting to push him away and pull him closer. Your mind screamed at you to stop, to break free, but you were too lost in the feeling of his lips on yours.

Soobin pulled back, his forehead resting against yours, both of you gasping for air. He didn’t say anything at first. Neither of you did. It was like you were both waiting for the storm to pass.

And maybe it would, or maybe it wouldn’t. But you knew one thing for sure now: everything had changed.

—-

Four years had passed since that day, since Soobin had left for flight school. You’d buried the memory deep, locked it away like a secret too dangerous to acknowledge. After all, how could you look him in the eye again after that moment? The kiss. The way his lips had felt against yours, as if the whole world had shifted in that one breathless instant.

Kai had been a distraction, maybe. Or perhaps he had been a way for you to cope with Soobin’s impending absence, a rebellion against something you didn’t know how to deal with. After all, Soobin had been your anchor, your family, your “older brother” — until he wasn’t. Until he’d crossed that line, and left you hanging in a way you didn’t know how to understand.

You never brought it up to him. You couldn’t. How could you, when the next morning, Soobin acted like nothing had happened? He was back to being your “older brother,” carrying on like it was just another regular day. As if he hadn’t just kissed you like that, like it was nothing. And so, you pretended too. You pretended it was normal. You pretended like you hadn’t spent days afterward replaying that moment in your head, each time wondering what it meant, what it had been.

—-

The silence between the two of you was deafening. After breakfast, Soobin hadn’t uttered a single word. He was lost in his own thoughts, and it felt like the air between you had thickened, each unspoken word hanging in the space between you both.

You quickly excused yourself, heading to the shower in an attempt to clear your mind. The hot water didn’t wash away the discomfort, though. It only seemed to magnify the embarrassing tension that still lingered. You couldn’t even look at him without feeling the weight of your confession bearing down on you. You had told him everything — that you liked him, more than you should — and now he was just… silent.

When you finished, you grabbed your things, stuffing them into your bag a little more aggressively than you intended. You were angry, frustrated, and honestly just tired of the awkwardness.

Soobin hadn’t spoken to you since you’d laid it all out there. Not even a simple acknowledgment of what you’d said, what you’d put yourself through. It was as if it had never happened. And it made you want to scream.

“Asshole,” you muttered to yourself as you slung your bag over your shoulder.

You couldn’t stay here. Not with him acting like a mute pilot. You didn’t need his silence, didn’t need the awkward tension that came with it. It was too much. You couldn’t handle it.

Just as you were about to leave, you heard the faintest rustle of movement behind you. You spun around, ready to give him a piece of your mind, but he was still there, standing by the couch, looking like he was trying to find something to say. But of course, nothing came out.

“Really, Soobin?” you snapped, your voice cracking slightly. "You’re not going to say anything? Not even after everything?"

Your hand reached for the doorknob, shame settling in your chest, when, just as you were about to leave, Soobin suddenly stood up, rushing toward you. In a flash, he locked you between the wall and his arms, trapping you.

“How could I possibly put into words how much I’ve loved you and yearned for you?” His voice was strained, raw, like every word was fighting to break free.

You froze, your breath caught in your throat. This was the moment you’d been waiting for, yet it felt as though time had stopped. The tension between you both was thick, suffocating almost, but there was something undeniable in the way he looked at you — something that made your heart race despite the anger and confusion swirling inside you.

“What?” you whispered, your voice trembling with the mix of emotions you couldn’t quite sort through.

“I’ve been trying to figure out how to say it for so long,” he murmured, his eyes never leaving yours, “but I don’t know how to make it make sense. I don’t know how to explain how much I’ve wanted you — wanted this — without completely screwing it all up.”

Your heart thudded in your chest. You could feel the warmth of his body close to yours, his breath hot against your skin. You wanted to pull away, to push him out of your personal space, but something held you there. Something inside of you, a pull that you couldn’t deny.

“Then why... why didn’t you say anything before?” You could feel the frustration rising in you, mixing with the vulnerability of his confession.

“I was scared,” he admitted, his voice low. “Scared that it would ruin everything — everything we have. I never wanted to make things weird, especially not with you. But I can’t keep pretending that I don’t feel this way.”

You swallowed hard, your eyes desperately searching his, trying to make sense of the storm of emotions swirling inside you. Was this real? You wanted to understand, to make it all make sense, but you were lost in the intensity of the moment.

“You’re my brother, Soobin,” you said, your voice trembling with the weight of what you were trying to deny. “You can’t just—”

But he interrupted you, his voice steady yet filled with raw emotion. “But I’m not. We’re not siblings. You came into my life like a whirlwind, and now... now you’ve completely changed everything. I think about you every night, every night. How the hell am I supposed to put all this... all these emotions, these feelings, into words when nothing... nothing in the dictionary can explain how much I feel for you?”

His face was inches from yours, his breath warm against your skin. You could feel the heat radiating from him, his presence consuming you. It was as though the air between you both had thickened, each word hanging in the space like a confession, unspoken yet loud in its silence.

“Soobin...” You whispered, your heart hammering in your chest, trying to find something to say, something to stop this, but you were rendered speechless by the intensity in his eyes.

“You—” His voice dropped, thick with emotion, his breath shallow. “You, who flipped my world upside down. You, who I can’t ever stop thinking about, even when I try.” He closed the gap between you, his lips so close you could almost feel them on your skin. “You, who took my first kiss.”

Your pulse quickened, and your chest tightened. Every fiber of your being screamed at you to step away, but you couldn’t. His words were pulling you in, drawing you closer despite the storm inside you. The tension between you was almost unbearable, the words unsaid, but felt deeply in the space that separated you both.

“Soobin,” you gasped, your voice cracking. “This... this isn’t... we can’t.”

But his eyes locked onto yours, unrelenting. “We can. If you’d just let me show you.” His voice was barely a whisper, but it held so much weight, so much desire. He moved just enough to make your breath catch, his body a breath away from yours. The space between you was nonexistent now.

You could feel the heat radiating between the two of you, the space narrowing as Soobin's breath mixed with yours. His hands, firm yet gentle, found their way to your wrists, pulling your arms above your head and locking them there. His eyes were searching yours, his lips barely a breath away. 

Without a word, his lips pressed against yours, tentative at first, as if testing the waters. But then, as if something within him snapped, the kiss deepened. It was slow, deliberate, and all-encompassing. His hand moved to the back of your head, pulling you closer, while your fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt.

You felt the world tilt, as though everything in your life had led to this exact moment. The warmth of his lips, the pressure of his body against yours, made you forget everything else.

Soobin pulled away, his forehead resting against yours, both of you gasping for breath. “I don’t want to stop,” he whispered, voice low and hoarse.

You couldn’t even respond. Your heart was racing, your thoughts a blur. The emotions flooding your chest were overwhelming, but one thing was certain—there was no turning back now.

He slowly guided you toward the bedroom, still holding you close.

—

It had been hours since the two of you went to bed. You slowly woke up, peeking under the blanket and realizing what had transpired between you two. "Oh," you murmured, quickly looking away. Your eyes landed on Soobin, who was lying beside you in nothing but the sheets, his back turned.

You glanced at the clock beside you. It had been two hours since your class started, and you were in a completely different city now. One day of missed classes wouldn’t be the end of the world, but your grades? You weren’t sure.

In a panic, your hand reached for your phone to text Beomgyu and ask him to take notes for you. But before you could, you felt Soobin’s eyes on you.

"Texting another guy when we’ve just done it is crazy," he said, his voice deep with a touch of teasing.

You stiffened, quickly responding, "I’m making sure I don’t fail."

Soobin chuckled, his lips lightly pressing against your bare shoulder, sending a shiver down your spine. "You can’t text a Cassandra or a Layla or something? Why does it have to be Beomgyu?"

"Because he’s my friend," you muttered, flustered.

A playful, almost possessive glint flashed in Soobin's eyes. "Right…a friend…" he said, his voice low and teasing as his arms pulled you closer.

Rolling your eyes, you sighed. "Okay, okay. I get it. You’re jealous." You leaned in to kiss his cheek, a gesture of reassurance.

But then, as if to make it right, you softly placed your hand on his chest. "You know, you should really go to class. You need to keep your grades up too, Mr. Pilot."

Soobin pouted slightly, his eyebrows furrowing in frustration. "I don’t want to go to class without you," he grumbled.

You smiled, running a hand through his messy hair. "Well, I can’t exactly go now can I?" you teased, pushing him toward the edge of the bed.

"Fine," Soobin said with a heavy sigh, pretending to be put out but the smile on his lips was unmistakable. "But only because you told me to."

"Good," you said, kissing his cheek once more. "Now go, and maybe I’ll make it up to you later."

As he reluctantly stood up, his expression softened. "You owe me, but I’m gonna let you off the hook for now. Go crush your class, alright?"

You grinned, still a little flushed from everything, but feeling lighter now. "I will," you said confidently. "Now go. You’re going to be late."

—-

A few hours later, you had texted Soobin, explaining that you really needed to get back to the city. You had an exam the next week, and your days had been nothing short of a whirlwind with him.

You could almost hear the disappointment in his response when he begged you to stay at least until he got back from his flying test. “Just a little longer, please?” The text read, filled with sincerity and a subtle plea that tugged at your heart.

You sighed, knowing you'd just barely make it in time, but… after everything that had happened, after last night, you found yourself missing him more than usual. The way his presence had wrapped around you in a way that felt so familiar, so right. You weren’t sure if you were even ready to leave just yet.

Tapping your phone screen, you typed back, “Okay, but only because you’re being so insistent. I’ll stay until you’re back.”

His reply was quick, almost instantly: “You won’t regret it. I promise.”

You smiled at the screen, feeling your chest warm at the thought of him. You hadn't expected everything to feel so natural, so different, so good with him, and yet here you were, tangled in the very emotions that made you hesitate to leave.

—

As you waited for Soobin to come home, you decided to cook him his favorite dinner. You weren’t exactly a master chef, but you were determined to try your best. You chopped vegetables, stirred sauces, and even got a little flour on your cheek from the bread you had attempted to bake. It was a mess, but you figured it would be worth it when Soobin walked through the door. You smiled at the thought of his face lighting up at the effort you put in.

The clock ticked away, and you nervously adjusted the plates on the dining table, glancing at the meal you had prepared. It wasn’t perfect—far from it—but you hoped it would be enough. You had tried. That had to count for something, right?

You heard the front door open and the sound of footsteps approaching. Then the familiar sound of Soobin’s voice calling out your name.

“I’m home!”

You quickly wiped your hands on your apron and rushed to greet him, just as he walked into the living room, still in his uniform.

As soon as Soobin walked through the door in his little pilot uniform, you couldn’t help yourself. He looked so good in it—too good. The crispness of the outfit, the way it clung just enough to show off his figure, the way his hair was perfectly messy as if he had just stepped out of a daydream. You immediately found yourself glued to his side, your body instinctively leaning against him as he entered.

Your hand rested on his arm, almost possessively, as if you needed to keep him close. You hadn’t realized how clingy you were being until Soobin, looking slightly confused, glanced at you with raised brows. “Hey, what’s with you today? You’re unusually handsy,” he teased.

You paused, your hand still resting on his arm, your fingers lightly tracing the fabric of his uniform. It wasn’t just that you missed him or that you were excited to have him home—it was something about the uniform itself. You suddenly realized that maybe it wasn’t just the comfort of his presence that was making you cling to him so tightly. You could feel your chest tighten as you looked at him.

“I don’t know,” you muttered, but then it clicked. His uniform. That was it. You shifted uncomfortably as the realization dawned on you.

Soobin’s eyes widened as he caught on. “Wait a second... you’re being extra clingy because of the uniform?”

You couldn’t hide your embarrassment, and your cheeks flushed a deep red. You averted your gaze, fiddling with the edge of your sleeve. “Maybe…”

He chuckled softly, his hand gently brushing your hair away from your face, though his expression still held a hint of confusion. “You’re so weird sometimes.”

But then it hit him—that moment when he pieced it all together. He wasn’t just an adorable sight in the uniform; it was the fact that you felt possessive of him, protective, maybe even a little jealous.

“Wait, is this why you hate it when I wear this to pick you up from school?” He continued, stepping a little closer to you, his hands gently resting on your shoulders. “It’s because you don’t like the idea of other girls looking at me.”

You bit your lip, suddenly feeling exposed. You didn’t want to admit it, but there was no denying it. “Maybe,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. 

Soobin’s gaze softened, a gentle smile playing on his lips as he leaned down to kiss the top of your head. “You don’t need to worry about that. I’m not going anywhere.”

You looked up at him, the conflict in your heart still there, but it eased just a little at the tenderness in his eyes. He really didn’t get it, did he? The fact that you couldn’t bear the thought of sharing him. It wasn’t about other girls; it was about how much you needed him for yourself.

“I know. But still,” you muttered, not quite ready to let go of your insecurities just yet.

He chuckled, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you into his side, his warm embrace comforting you more than you expected. “If it makes you feel better, I’ll stop wearing it outside the house,” he teased, but there was no teasing in his voice—just pure affection.

You snuggled closer, burying your face in his chest. “Don’t be ridiculous. You can wear it whenever you want… just… maybe not when you’re picking me up from school.”

Soobin laughed softly, “That’s how I feel every time you walk out of the house.”

“Really?” You rolled your eyes.

“Walking out like that, looking naturally cute, is a heart attack waiting to happen,” Soobin said, his voice almost too serious.

You laughed, “Don’t be ridiculous.”

“I’m not! You don’t see the stares you get outside?” Soobin sighed.

“No, I don’t, because when we’re out together, I only see you,” you teased.

“All these sugary words, you do know we’re still not dating, right?” Soobin said, raising an eyebrow.

You crossed your arms. “Doesn’t this morning count? I lost my—”

“I still haven’t asked you out, though,” Soobin interrupted, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

“Okay, go ahead, ask me.”

“Like this? With me in my work uniform and you in a dirty apron?”

“There’s no better timing. Besides, I’d say yes to anything if you ask me in your uniform.”

“Oh, so that’s how I’ll get you to agree with me now?” Soobin grinned.

“Not everything. I still have a conscience and morality.”

“You do now?”

“Mhm,” you nodded playfully.

“Okay then,” he said, pulling you closer. “Wanna be my girlfriend?”

“That’s so lame.”

Soobin chuckled, his hands resting on your waist as he pulled you even closer. “What’s so lame about it?”

“You’ve got this serious, pilot face, and then you hit me with ‘Wanna be my girlfriend?’” You rolled your eyes, but there was a smile tugging at your lips. “You could’ve at least tried to make it more dramatic or something.”

He raised an eyebrow, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Oh, I see how it is. You want the grand, swoon-worthy proposal, huh?”

“Something like that,” you teased, leaning into him.

Soobin smiled, his grip tightening around you as he leaned in close. “Well, if you want drama…” He paused, eyes locking with yours, the air between you thick with tension. “How about this?”

Before you could react, Soobin leaned in and kissed you softly, but with a touch of urgency that left you breathless. When he pulled back, he looked into your eyes, a playful smile on his lips. “Now, will you be my girlfriend?”

You were stunned for a moment, your heartbeat racing. “Okay, fine. Yes,” you said with a laugh, feeling your cheeks flush. “But don’t get used to the cheesy lines.”

“I’ll take it,” he said with a grin, his voice full of satisfaction. “Guess that means we’re officially together now.”

The house was quiet. Blissfully, wonderfully quiet. Y/N was home alone for the night—her dad and stepmom were out, likely at some event or gathering. It was Friday, and for once, she didn’t have to worry about the noise or tension that seemed to fill the space when they were around.

Y/N sat at her desk, curled comfortably in her chair, her legs pulled up beneath her. The small TV in the corner of her room, just to the right of her desk, cast a warm glow as her favorite drama played. It was a scene she had been waiting for—the moment the lead characters finally realized their feelings for each other. The soft instrumental built up, and Y/N held her breath, her pencil pausing mid-shade as the male lead reached out, tucking a strand of hair behind the heroine’s ear.

She exhaled, fully immersed in the drama.

The world outside her little room didn’t exist—not even the stress of the day could bother her. Just this moment, just the quiet hum of the television, the soft scratch of her pencil against paper, and the warmth in her chest as the characters on screen shared a long-awaited confession.

Her desk was a small but cozy space, the surface covered with neatly arranged art supplies and small trinkets that made her feel at home. Her latest piece sat in front of her—a carefully drawn night sky over a peaceful cityscape. Deep purples and blues blended under her careful hand, the colors rich and dreamy. She wasn’t doodling this time. This one mattered. It was the kind of drawing she’d take her time with, layering colors until it felt just right.

The scent of kimchi ramen filled the room, steam curling up from the bowl resting on a coaster beside her. Every so often, she paused to take a slow slurp, savoring the spice, the warmth spreading through her chest. Next to it, a bottled green tea sat unopened, condensation gathering against the plastic. A packaged strawberry cream bread rested nearby, waiting for when she was ready for something sweet.

On-screen, the tension between the leads melted into something softer. The heroine hesitated, her voice trembling as she admitted her feelings, and Y/N found herself gripping her pencil tighter.

"Do you think... I could ever be enough for you?" The female lead’s voice trembled as she spoke. She was beautiful, too beautiful to be the underdog, but just like any other typical drama she was cast as the loser. 

Y/N’s breath hitched in her chest, her fingers momentarily pausing in their motion across the sketch of a cozy night sky. This was the moment she’d been waiting for. The male lead stepped closer, his gaze softening as he stared into her eyes, a quiet intensity between them.

"You’re more than enough," he whispered, his voice low and steady, his hand reaching out slowly toward hers.

Y/N leaned in, her heart pounding in her chest. She could feel the heat of the confession radiating through the screen, her breath caught in her throat. The music swelled, a soft piano playing in the background, and she couldn’t tear her eyes away. Her pencil paused once more mid-air as her attention was fully captivated by the scene.

"Say it," Y/N whispered under her breath, leaning in slightly, almost as if she were the one waiting for the words.

The male lead’s lips parted, pausing for a moment to consider his words. "You’re everything to me," he finally said, his voice thick with emotion, pulling her in even closer to his body.

Y/N's heart soared, and without thinking, she stretched her legs out from underneath her, sitting up straighter, getting closer to the screen as though that might make the moment real. Her feet kicked out excitedly under the desk, her heart fluttering at the confession.

Just as the heroine closed her eyes and the male lead leaned in to kiss her, the door slammed open with a loud, dramatic noise, followed by a voice shouting, "Well isn’t this just picture perfect!”

The moment shattered instantly. Y/N’s feet kicked out again in frustration, a quiet groan escaping her lips as she slouched back in her chair. She stared at the screen, her heart sinking with the interrupted kiss. "Nooo," she whined softly, and pouted at the TV as the scene cut away.

With a huff, Y/N slouched in her chair even more, feeling the pull of the unfinished moment. As if on cue, her phone buzzed on the desk, snapping her out of her dramatic reverie.

It was a message from Beomgyu.

Y/N and Beomgyu spent yet another evening together at the library earlier, chatting and writing about random thoughts. They learned more about each other, really listening to the little details. They discussed what his favorite video games were, Y/N’s dream vacation, and even why Beomgyu had such a deep hatred for mint chocolate chip ice cream. Beomgyu: I just realized I have a test monday. Do you think I should start studying or accept my fate? Helppp

Y/N smiled softly, the weight of the interrupted drama moment lightening as she typed back.

Y/N: Depends. How bad is it? Y/N: Also?? A test on a monday?? gross.

She didn’t have to wait long for his reply.

Beomgyu: Bad enough that I should’ve started a week ago. But also? Not bad enough that I will. I'm cooked either way

Y/N giggled quietly, a soft chuckle that felt good to release.

Y/N: Sounds like fate it is~

She set her phone down with a satisfied smile, but just as she was about to settle back into the quiet of her room, another message appeared.

Beomgyu: Btw, you made it home safe, right?

Y/N blinked, a warm feeling crept up her spine.

And then another text appeared.

Beomgyu: I hope??

Her fingers hovered over the keys again, her heart swelling with a strange happiness she hadn’t expected. She took a breath, her smile softening before she typed back.

Y/N: Yeah, just relaxing.

A few seconds later, another message from Beomgyu popped up.

Beomgyu: Good. Sleep well, okay?

Y/N stared at the screen, her heart fluttering as she reread his words. There was something so simple, yet so sincere about them. A small smile tugged at her lips as she typed back.

Y/N: You too! (:

With a sigh, she set the phone aside, leaning back in her chair. The peace of the room settled around her again, and she let the soft voices from the TV wash over her. Her mind lingered on the warmth of Beomgyu's messages, even though the drama was still playing, she wasn’t paying as much attention to it anymore. The soft feeling of being thought of—that was the thing that lingered, making everything feel a little bit more right. Y/N carefully put the last few strokes on the night sky, adding a shimmer of stars to the deep blue and purple hues. The room felt completely silent now, the only sound the soft scratch of her pencil against the paper as she focused. The drama had finished, and she was all caught up for now, having turned off the TV afterward. It was just her and her drawing now, and the peace of the moment. The emotional tension of the show had faded, replaced by the quiet calm of her room and the soothing rhythm of her hand moving across the page. She glanced up at the clock. It was getting late, but for now, there was no rush. No one was home. No one to hurry her along or pressure her into anything. Y/N set the pencil down and stretched her arms, letting out a content sigh. The house was silent, except for the occasional creak and pop of the old house settling. 

With another stretch, she stood up and grabbed her empty ramen bowl, its warmth still lingering against her fingertips. Her strawberry cream bread sat untouched on the desk, wrapped tightly in its package. The faint, sweet scent of it lingered in the air, just enough to tempt her, but she wasn’t quite in the mood for it anymore. She carried the bowl to the kitchen, the silence wrapping around her like a warm blanket. She paused for a moment in the kitchen, savoring the quiet that filled the space. No shouting. No nagging. No sharp words cutting through the air like they did so often.

The emptiness of the house, rather than feeling lonely, felt comforting. It was her time to be free, to breathe without fear of being judged or corrected for the smallest things. She didn’t have to shrink down, didn’t have to hide herself.

After rinsing her bowl and placing it in the drying rack, she walked back to her room, the stillness following her like an old friend. She returned upstairs with a fresh towel, wiping down her desk and tidying up her space. The simple ritual of cleaning brought her a sense of peace, and comfort, a comforting routine before she prepared for bed. Not to mention, she’d spilled some ramen broth earlier, leaving behind a small mess.

As she brushed her teeth, a smile tugged at the corner of her lips. She could still feel the warmth of Beomgyu’s presence earlier that evening, and despite the time she spent alone now, his memory lingered in her thoughts. 

She rinsed her face, glancing at her reflection in the mirror, and for a moment, she couldn’t help but let out a small sigh. Why am I thinking about him so much?

The thought made her pause. Her stomach did a little flip, and she felt that warmth again, the fluttering feeling that had started creeping in over the past few weeks. Beomgyu had a way of making her feel like she was more than just the quiet girl sitting at the back of the class.

She quickly finished her bedtime routine and changed into comfortable clothes. She pulled the blanket up to her chin, the soft fabric settling around her as she slid under the covers. Her thoughts were still on Beomgyu. I guess I’ve never really had a guy who’s treated me like this before, she thought to herself. It’s... nice.

But it was more than that. As much as she tried to brush it off, she knew there was a growing attraction. She found herself replaying little moments from earlier in the night: his smile, the way his eyes softened when they looked at her, how natural and comfortable it all felt.

It was also the fact that she thought about Beomgyu even on days she didn’t see him, he always crept back into her mind, thinking about him came easily. Not just because he was handsome and sweet… and goofy… beautiful even, but because he truly cared about her. He wanted to get to know her for her, he didn’t care that she didn’t speak. 

It was obvious that Y/N had a crush on him. It was funny how easy it felt to admit it to herself now, after all the time she’d spent avoiding those types of feelings. She hated liking someone, it was complicated and she hated complicated feelings, especially when she couldn’t properly express it. It was just easier to not have feelings for someone, that way she couldn’t get hurt. She was afraid of feeling this way, she knew it could tear her apart on the inside. And yet, here she was.

It’s okay, she reminded herself. It’s just a crush. A small one.

Just as Y/N’s eyes fluttered close, she heard the soft vibration of her phone on the wooden side table next to her bed. She didn’t budge at first trying to have some self-control but it only lasted five seconds until her eyes snapped open. Y/N reached her hand out to grab her phone off the table, it was another text from Beomgyu. She couldn’t help it, a soft smile quickly appeared on her face. Beomgyu: Okayyy soo, I know you’re most likely sleeping by now but I was wondering if maybe you wanted to hang out tomorrow?

Her heart fluttered as she read over the text twice. Beomgyu: I mean if you’re not busy already? Since it snowed all week I figured maybe we could go ice skating, I’m sure it won’t be too busy considering the season just started?

Before Y/N could even think about what she was agreeing to she sent a quick reply.

Y/N: Sure (: sounds like fun!

Beomgyu: Sorry, did I wake you? ):

Y/N: No it’s okay!!

Beomgyu: Okay cool. Oh, unlike last weekend, I won’t force Taehyun to be involved. Just us (:

Y/N’s eyes widened slightly as she reread the message. No Taehyun this time? She thought about it for a few moments. It would just be her and Beomgyu, which she was okay with they spent time together often now, just the two of them but never outside of the library.

This was different, this would be outside her comfort zone, out in public with Beomgyu. On top of it, she didn’t know how to ice skate.

Y/N groaned loudly as she realized what she agreed to, an entire evening of making herself look like a fool in front of Beomgyu. How embarrassing, she thought, squeezing her eyes closed for a couple of seconds.

“Stupid,” Y/N told herself softly as she looked back at the text messages.

Y/N: Oh! Cool!

She sent the message before even thinking about it, she cringed overthinking it now, it was too short it felt like she was uninterested. Y/N quickly double-texted.

Y/N: I’m excited, it will be nice hanging out… not in the library like usual (:

Beomgyu: I know, we need to hang out outside of school haha

Beomgyu: How about I pick you up from your place? That way we can just go together

The first thought that ran through her mind was her family, she didn’t want Beomgyu to meet them, not yet at least. Especially, her stepmother, she wanted that woman to stay far away from Beomgyu. Y/N had a feeling that her stepmother would do everything she could to embarrass Y/N and make Beomgyu run off.

Y/N couldn’t let that happen, her stomach turned just at the thought, she didn’t want to lose him. The two had begun to grow close together. She figured she’d just watch out the window for Beomgyu like a hawk. Once he pulled up she would just make a run for it, giving him no time to get out of the car.

Y/N nodded to herself as she thought out her escape route.

Y/N: Yeah we can do that

She then sent another message, one that had her address in it.

Beomgyu: Perfect (: I’ll see you around 6:30?

Y/N: That works for me!!

Beomgyu: Okok please go to sleep, you’ll need the rest! Sweet dreams!

Y/N: Sweet dreams~

After Y/N sent that final message she went back to her other messages to Jiwon’s contact. With a few quick swipes, she began typing a message to her best friend.

Y/N: Jiwon. Please tell me you’re not busy tomorrow. I need to facetime you. I need help picking out an outfit ))):

With a deep sigh, Y/N locked her phone and placed it back on the table, she knew Jiwon was sleeping and wouldn’t reply until the morning.

Y/N wanted to sleep but now she was giddy and anxious about tomorrow. She had too many thoughts running through her mind. What was she going to wear? How should she do her hair? Should she wear makeup? This wasn’t a date, was it?

“Oh god…” Y/N rolled onto her side facing the wall, her hand gripping the edge of the blanket and pulling it over her shoulder, she kept a tight grip on it afterward.

Eventually, the thoughts swirling in her mind were enough to lull her to sleep, the nerves didn’t quite calm down though. As Y/N slept, she tossed and turned all night, even her anxiety crept into her dreams. They were filled with every possible thing going wrong the next day.

With a loud huff, Y/N turned to face her phone that sat leaning against a pile of books. She was trying outfits on for Jiwon, she wanted to look good for when she went to hangout with Beomgyu. “I…” Y/N glanced at her reflection in the phone. “Jiwon, I’m not wearing this.” She shook her head, thinking the choice of clothing items were insane. “What–” Jiwon dragged out in a whine. “Why not? It looks adorable on you,” Y/N wore thick tights, a flowy skirt that rested at her mid-thigh, a long-sleeve shirt, and leg warmers. She glanced at her outfit with uncertainty. “Okay, and I’m going ice skating? Which I have never done before… Shouldn’t I be wearing pants or something? I feel like I need more coverage on my legs.” “Beomgyu won’t let you fall,” Jiwon said quickly. “Come on, this is your first date with him-” Before Jiwon could continue talking Y/N stared at her with a hard glare. “Not a date.” “Sure, whatever,” Jiwon rolled her eyes. “Okay, fine, if you’re really such a scaredy cat about getting hurt then wear those cute pants you wore to my birthday party a few months ago…” She took a second to think about the top option. “That… one cute top you have.. And that super cute jacket you wore the other day.” Y/N couldn’t help but laugh at how many times Jiwon had said cute. Y/N walked out of frame to find those items, she dug around in her dresser with shaky hands. She was so nervous for tonight, she wanted to make a good impression on Beomgyu. Eventually, she ended up finding the clothing items Jiwon was talking about then swiftly changed into them, minus the jacket. “This?” Y/N walked back into the frame, she stood there awkwardly, her fingers playing with the bottom hem of the shirt. “Not as cute as the last outfit but this will do, you still look perfect.” Jiwon nodded in approval. Y/N let out a soft huff of air, finally feeling slightly better that she finally had an outfit to wear. The knots in her stomach continued to tighten as the clock ticked closer and closer to the time Beomgyu said he would be picking her up. “Honestly.” Jiwon started, Y/N’s eyes wandered back to the screen to watch her friend take a sip of water before she spoke again. “You look hot, the pants really show off your body, in a good way.” Y/N’s cheeks flushed immediately, not being able to handle the compliment. “Stop…” Y/N whispered, her arms crossing to cover her waist. “What? It’s giving body,” Jiwon told her, “Come on give me a little pose,” Jiwon loved hyping Y/N up, she loved seeing the light in her eyes and how flustered she got, it made her feel like she was doing a good job at being a best friend. Y/N awkwardly placed a hand on her hip and then stuck her left leg out at an angle. “Okay, so, uhm… awesome. Next time I see you we’re gonna practice posing for photos because what the hell are you doing.” Jiwon shook her head with a soft laugh. Y/N covered her mouth as she began to quietly giggle at Jiwon’s words. She knew she looked silly, she always felt weird posing, it felt so unnatural to her. “So, if he asks to take a photo of you tonight, don’t do that. That smile was so forced,” Jiwon continued to laugh at her friend, not in a mean way. Jiwon would never purposely say something to upset Y/N, she knew her boundaries and this was just light teasing for the two. “Okay okay,” Y/N smiled at the phone, her lips curved naturally this time as she was enjoying Jiwon’s teasing. “That! That was perfect Y/N, remember to smile like that,” Jiwon clapped her hands together as she watched Y/N. “Jiwon, I doubt any pictures are going to be taken anyway… wouldn’t that be weird?” Y/N asked Jiwon in an unsure tone. “Why would that be weird? You’re on a cute date– I mean adventure… Don’t you want to remember it? Post it to Instagram?” Jiwon was so happy for Y/N, this is all she wanted for her best friend. 

Sometimes it felt like Y/N would never go on a date with someone, considering how shy and anxious she got around people. Y/N never really put herself out there. Jiwon had dreamed of the day where they would talk about boys and get ready for dates while on facetime. “I mean… I guess?” Y/N said unsure of her own response, was that normal? Did people take photos like that all the time? Y/N bit her lip as she thought about it more. New thoughts of insecurity sinking in. She didn’t want to look bad in the photos, she knew how awkward she could be, it was beginning to eat away at her. “Y/N,” Jiwon spoke, pulling Y/N out of her thoughts. “Yeah?” She glanced at her phone. “You zoned out… I was wondering when Beomgyu was going to be there to pick you up?” Jiwon scooted closer to the camera her face right in front of it now. Y/N glanced at the time, “Oh crap, like in a few minutes.” Her heartbeat spiked as she began looking around her room to make sure she had everything she wanted to bring. “Okay don’t forget your scarf, gloves, wallet.” Jiwon began listing off things to help Y/N calm down, she could see how nervous Y/N was just by her jerky movements and shaky hands. Just as Y/N was pulling her jacket on a message popped up across the screen. Beomgyu: I’m here (:

“Oh god…” She repeated a few times. “He’s here,” Y/N's voice was a bit more high pitch now, due to the butterflies swirling about in her stomach. “Jiwon, he’s here. I love you, bye,” Y/N ended the call not even meaning to say farewell like that, she couldn’t think straight. “Oh gosh,” She said softly, grabbing her small bag that contained her wallet and lip balm. She grabbed her phone shoving it in her jacket’s pocket before sprinting down the stairs, forgetting her scarf and gloves on her messy bed. Her room was a disaster at this point, with clothes strewn everywhere from the outfits she’d tried on, and her makeup was scattered across the desk. She promised herself she’d clean it up when she got home later that night. Her eyes immediately fell on her father’s figure who stood at the window in the living room peering out at the street. Y/N ran over to the front door, slipping her shoes on. Her stepmother was in the kitchen washing the dishes. This was perfect, this meant her stepmother would have no idea about Beomgyu being outside. Y/N gave her father a quick wave and a weary smile. “Who–” Before her father could even finish asking his question Y/N was out the door. Her cheeks burned as she saw Beomgyu was already halfway up the steps, she stopped mid step as she looked into his warm eyes. “Hey,” He chuckled softly, a small friendly smile sat on his lips. Y/N took a deep breath before showing him an awkward soft smile, she slowly brought her hand up as if to say hey back. “I figured you didn’t see my text so I was going to knock,” He explained before stepping backward off the steps, with ease. Y/N nodded her head before following behind him, they walked in step to his car, and Beomgyu opened the passenger for her. She nodded her head to him to say thank you before she slid into the warm seat. Beomgyu rounded his car to get into the driver's seat. “Are you cold?” He asked glancing over at Y/N as he typed in the directions to the outdoor ice rink. Y/N shook her head, she was somewhat sweating due to her father almost answering the door. Her eyes fell to her shaky hands, she made the mindful effort to grab onto her sleeves to try and relax herself. Beomgyu turned on some music before he shifted the car into drive. The music was soft, but not drowned out by the engine of the car. He could tell that Y/N was nervous, so he wanted to try and comfort her as best as he could. He waited a few minutes before speaking so she could collect herself. He glanced at Y/N who was looking out the window of the car door. He took in her appearance, she looked beautiful as always, but he noticed a very subtle difference, she was wearing very light makeup. He couldn’t hide his smile, he liked seeing her like this, it was different.

“Have you ever been ice skating before?” Beomgyu asked, his eyes shifting from the road to Y/N. Y/N shook her head and pressed her lips together, feeling awkward, maybe she should’ve told him last night that she didn’t know how to skate. She didn’t want him to feel upset that he had to babysit her the whole time. “What?” He let out a breathy laugh, “There’s no way.” He turned his attention back to the road. Y/N gripped the sleeve of her jacket even tighter, trying to press the nerves away. “Don’t worry, I’ve been skating since I was like… ten… maybe?”  He wasn’t sure if he was a year or two off. Y/N raised her eyebrows slightly at his response, that was a long time. “I used to go skating with some of my old friends all the time, you’ll pick it up fast.” Beomgyu would be lying if he said he wasn’t excited about Y/N not knowing how to skate. It was a great excuse to stay close to her, hold her hand, and keep her from falling. This night was going perfectly for him so far. The rest of the ride was filled with Beomgyu telling Y/N stories, he figured he’d do what he’s best at and yap her ear off. He made sure to glance at her every so often to make sure he wasn’t boring her to death. To his surprise she was listening quite closely, her facial expressions were very responsive to what he was saying.

Once, Beomgyu shifted the car into park he glanced at Y/N with a huge smile. “Ready?” Y/N nodded shyly before grabbing her bag off the floor of the car. “Oh, don’t worry, you can leave your bag here. Tonight’s on me, plus I would feel better leaving your bag in here… I don’t trust those lockers sometimes.” Beomgyu said. Y/N was surprised by him, she quickly pulled her phone out and typed. Are you sure?? I don’t mind paying!

Beomgyu’s eyes fell onto her phone screen, the soft blue light hitting his face. “Please, don’t worry, I want to.” Y/N’s heart picked up once again. Her fingers hit the keyboard quickly. Thank you (: Beomgyu smiled softly at the message before he got out of the car, Y/N following his lead. She stayed in step with him but stayed slightly behind him as if he was like some safety shield for her anxiety. As they walked towards the counter Y/N realized she was going to have to let the worker know her shoe size. Y/N pulled her phone out once again and typed her shoe-sized down to show the worker, they were behind a few people so there was still a ton of time, but the nerves gnawed at her. She had to be prepared just in case. Beomgyu noticed her note prepared and smiled softly, he looked ahead and kept quiet. After a few moments, it was their turn. They both signed a waiver then Beomgyu spoke saying both sizes they needed, that way Y/N didn’t even need to show the woman at the counter her phone. Y/N glanced up at him feeling a bit surprised, it warmed her heart that he did that without even saying anything to her. She grabbed the pair of skates that the woman handed over to her, once Beomgyu received his they made their way over to a bench. Beomgyu was quick to switch over into skates, he opened the rental locker and threw his shoes in. He turned back towards Y/N who was still trying to tie her skates. “Here,” He spoke softly, he knelt down slightly and tied the skates for her, making sure they were tight enough.

Y/N’s eyes glanced around the area, looking at the people around them, wondering what they were thinking of her and Beomgyu. Did they think she looked stupid? Before she could let her negative thoughts spiral into something bigger, she shook her head and looked down at Beomgyu as he finished tying the skates. Beomgyu grabbed her shoes and threw them into the locker with his own, he made sure it was locked before shoving the key into his pocket. He took a deep breath trying to relax his own nerves, he slowly turned back to Y/N with a smile on his face. “Let’s go,” He held a hand out to her. Y/N glanced at his hand surprised by the gesture before her soft hand slipped into his, it fit perfectly. His warm hand wrapped around hers like it was a normal occurrence. She stood up on her feet with good balance.  “Walking to the ice is the easy part,” He said, guiding them to the rink. The ice rink was large, surrounded by the crisp evening air and the soft hum of cheerful chatter. A canopy of warm, golden string lights weaves around tall, wooden poles encircling the rink, casting a gentle glow that reflects off the smooth ice. The lights flicker softly, their golden hues blending with the deep night sky, where wisps of snow drift lazily from above.

Around the rink, festive winter decorations enhance the cozy, magical atmosphere. Garlands of pine branches, dusted with fresh snow, wrap around the poles alongside twinkling fairy lights. Festive red ribbons and bows are tied neatly along the railings, adding pops of color against the icy backdrop. Wooden crates filled with pine cones and frosted berries sit at intervals, giving the scene a rustic charm. 

Soft holiday music drifts from nearby speakers, mingling with the sound of skates gliding across the ice and the occasional laughter of skaters. Families, couples, and groups of friends move fluidly across the ice—some gracefully gliding, others stumbling and giggling as they hold onto each other for support. Beomgyu turned to face Y/N and took a backward step onto the ice, he did it with such ease, it was natural to him. He stood in place holding Y/N's hand still. He could tell she was feeling unsure about stepping onto the ice. “I promise I won’t let you fall,” He told her, his grip becoming a little more firm on her hand. Y/N nodded, she took a brave step onto the ice, it didn’t feel slippery yet. As soon as she placed her other foot onto the ice she lost her balance. Beomgyu couldn’t help but giggle as Y/N grabbed onto his forearm with her free hand. He kept his promise though and steadied her.

"Okay, okay, I got you," Beomgyu laughed more, steadying her by the waist as she clung onto his arm as if her life depended on it. "You're so tense—you gotta relax a little. If you keep locking your knees like that, you’re just gonna make it harder." Y/N gives him a panicked look, her feet felt like they were slipping slightly beneath her.

"Alright, the first thing you need to keep in mind is balance. Keep your weight centered, not too far forward or back. If you lean too much, you’ll—whoa—" Beomgyu quickly catches her as she wobbles, with a huge grin he pulls her closer to him. "Yeah, like that."

Y/N’s cheeks and neck flushed, she couldn’t breathe being pulled close to Beomgyu like this, his hands were all over her. She wasn’t sure what she was expecting but it wasn’t this, she would have never thought Beomgyu would have her pulled close like this.

Beomgyu brought his hands back up to Y/N’s small hands, and he held onto them gently. "Bend your knees just a little, don’t stiffen up. And when you move, think of it like... pushing off to the side, not straightforward. Like… watch." He smoothly glides backward, demonstrating effortlessly, he pulled her with him.

"See? Small pushes, one foot at a time. You try." Beomgyu encouraged with a sweet smile. Y/N glanced down at her feet and the ice before looking back up at Beomgyu, she shook her head no, she didn’t think she could do it. Her hands grip his tighter, and Beomgyu mindlessly brushed his thumbs across the back of her hands. "You can do it," he reassures, his voice softer now. "I'll go slow, I'll move with you. Just trust me."

With a deep breath and still holding onto him, Y/N hesitantly shifts her weight, attempting the smallest push. It's wobbly, but it works—kind of.

"There you go! See? Not so bad." Beomgyu’s grin is warm and encouraging. "You'll be skating circles around me in no time." 

It earns a soft, quiet giggle from Y/N, one of his new favorite sounds. Eventually, after guiding Y/N around the rink a few times, she managed to push herself forward—slowly, but surely. Beomgyu still held onto one of her hands, keeping them moving with his own steady momentum. “Wanna take a break? Maybe get some hot chocolate,” Beomgyu offered, Y/N was quick to nod, ready to enjoy something warm, she was a bit cold now.

Beomgyu nodded and led them toward the exit of the rink, he helped Y/N over to a bench before he went to a small stall to order hot chocolate for the both of them. While Beomgyu was gone, Y/N let herself sink into the moment, replaying everything that had happened tonight. It felt like a dream, like something out of a story she’d never imagined herself in. The way he held her close, the warmth of his hand never straying far from hers… it was starting to feel like a date, even if he hadn’t said it outright. Her thoughts didn’t linger long, Beomgyu was back in no time with two warm paper cups filled with hot chocolate. “Here,” He murmured, as he sat down next to her on the bench. Y/N accepted the cup with a small smile, the heat seeping into her fingers as she curled them around it.

Beomgyu’s free hand reached out, dusting the snow from her hair with gentle, absentminded touches. He took a sip of his drink, wincing slightly as the warmth stung his tongue. “Are you warm enough?” His voice was soft, laced with quiet concern. Y/N hesitated before offering a small shrug and slight nod as she tilted her head. Letting him know that she was somewhat cold. She took a sip of her drink before cradling it in both of her hands, warming her palms once more.

Beomgyu shifted beside her, his thigh brushing against hers. Without a word, he set his cup down and reached for the dark blue scarf wrapped snugly around his own neck. Y/N watched him, eyes curious as he pulled it off, his fingers working effortlessly. Without saying a word, he gently draped it over her, wrapping it carefully around her neck with slow, precise movements. His touch was light, almost hesitant, as he adjusted the fabric to make sure it sat comfortably. “This should keep you somewhat warm,” His fingers lingered for just a moment, smoothing over the soft wool before finally pulling away. Beomgyu was gazing at her with soft eyes, a small, satisfied smile playing on his lips. Y/N glanced up, realizing just how close their faces were—probably the closest they’d ever been. Her eyes flickered over his sharp features, taking in every detail, but it was his scent that overwhelmed her senses. It was soft yet vibrant, it wrapped around her like a cozy embrace. The rich, slightly tangy sweetness of pomegranate stood out first, fresh and bright, as if she had just broken open the fruit herself. Beneath it, delicate floral notes softened the edges, blending into something light and airy. With a light clear of his throat, Beomgyu decided to roll his shoulders back in an attempt to relax. He sat up more straight, and averted his gaze from hers, suddenly all too aware of how close they had been.

Before reaching for his hot chocolate again, his hand lifted to adjust the beanie on his head, tugging it down slightly. It was a small, nervous habit as he processed the lingering warmth of their proximity. The pair sat in comfortable silence as they finished their hot chocolate. Once again Y/N had Beomgyu tongue-tied, his mind scrambling for something to say, yet coming up empty. With a soft sigh, Beomgyu took one final sip of his drink before turning toward Y/N again. “Alright,” He had a playful glint in his eyes. “Think you can keep up with me now?”

Y/N quirked a brow at him, unimpressed by his tease. He stood up, holding out a hand for her. After a brief hesitation, Y/N placed her hand in his, letting him pull her to her feet. Before heading back to the rink Beomgyu threw their empty cups out. Once they were back at the entrance to the ice, Beomgyu let go of her hand and stepped down onto the ice, he adjusted himself so he was skating backward once more. It honestly impressed Y/N with how skillful he was on the ice. Beomgyu flashed her a teasing smile. “Maybe, we could race around the rink?” She gave him a nervous smile and a shake of the head, she wasn’t ready for that yet. She had only just gotten the hang of pushing off the ice, and only with Beomgyu right there beside her. “Come on, try getting on the ice by yourself this time,” He encouraged her.

Y/N's fingers gripped the edge of the barrier as she carefully placed one foot onto the ice. Taking a deep breath, she followed with the other foot, her hold on the barrier tightening as she wobbled slightly, trying to steady herself. “You’re gonna be pro in no time,” Beomgyu chuckled softly as he watched her struggle onto the ice. Y/N smiled softly, she was expecting him to grab a hold of her by now but Beomgyu had other plans. He slowly skated a few feet backward, he wanted her to try and skate to him without his help. “Skate to me,” He told her with a huge grin. “I know you can do it, just trust yourself.” Y/N glanced at the people skating by them, she felt a bit silly for not being able to skate, she felt like everyone’s eyes were on her. 

“You got this,” Beomgyu pulled her out of her thoughts. She nodded a few times before she slowly let go of the barrier. Beomgyu was probably five feet away, he wasn’t far whatsoever.

I can do this, she told herself as she pushed her foot against the ice like he had shown her to do.

Beomgyu watched proudly as she began to slowly skate towards him, he decided to take it a step further and began to slowly skate backward so she would have to skate further without him. He was close enough to her if he needed to jump in and keep her from falling. Y/N gasped softly as she saw him move away from her, she was so surprised that she had almost spoken, she had almost told him to stop, that she needed him. The feeling in her throat surprised her, she didn’t know what to think of it, it’s been a while since she’d felt this way with someone she hadn’t spoken to before. Just the thought of her speaking to him had her cheeks burning, she was glad that it was cold out so she could play it off as if the cold was making her cheeks turn color. As Beomgyu skated, his skate slid across the ice a certain way making him slip and fall onto his bum. A small laugh bubbled up in Y/N's chest as she saw him sitting on the ice, she let it escape her mouth as she saw Beomgyu looking up at her with a pout on his face. However, her laugh quickly faded as she realized Beomgyu never taught her how to stop. She wasn’t going fast, so it wasn’t dangerous, but she was heading straight for Beomgyu.

Beomgyu seemed to notice this as well, he tried to quickly stand up but he wasn’t fast enough. Y/N bent her knees more and leaned forward more than she needed to as she finally reached Beomgyu making her balance completely thrown off. Beomgyu decided the best thing to do was to catch her fall so their skates wouldn’t get tangled up, he didn’t want anyone getting hurt from the blades. She ended up falling toward him, her hands instinctively landing on his chest to catch herself.

To keep her from completely toppling over, Beomgyu reached out to steady her, grabbing her upper arms. Her knees gently hit the ice between his legs, but it wasn’t hard enough to cause any real pain.

Y/N’s ears went red, she gave him an apologetic look, but Beomgyu brushed it off with a smile, laughing softly. His carefree laughter made her giggle too, the tension of the fall disappearing as they both shared the moment.

“You okay?” He finally asked her, he slowly began to help the both of them to their feet.

Y/N nodded then pointed to him and gave him a thumbs up, asking if he was okay as well. “Yeah, I’m okay, my butt is a little wet from sitting on the ice but I’m okay,” He laughed, and his hand went back down to grab a hold of Y/N’s hand, it was a natural action, with no hesitation behind it. “Okay, I guess… let’s just skate together, I don’t want you getting hurt,” His voice was soft again. Y/N nodded, agreeing with Beomgyu. As the night went on, the two continued skating and having fun. At some point, Beomgyu made sure to snap a selfie with her, grinning as he held up his phone. He told her it was to commemorate her first time on the ice, but in reality, he just wanted a picture with her. He figured this was a pretty smooth way to do it without making things awkward. 

Once they were tired they returned the rental skates and made it back to Beomgyu’s car. “You learned a new skill today,” Beomgyu pointed out as he started his car. Y/N nodded her head, offering him a soft smile.

“Honestly, I must say you did really well for your first time,” He smiled back at her. She knew Beomgyu was just saying that to be nice but she appreciated the compliment anyway. Beomgyu turned on the music, keeping the volume low. Y/N noticed that Beomgyu always had to have some kind of noise around him. She didn’t mind though, she just found it interesting. Most of her peaceful moments were filled with silence meanwhile his were filled with the comfort of noise. He entered her address into the maps app before starting to drive toward her home. Like the ride to the ice rink, it was mainly filled with Beomgyu talking about whatever came to mind while Y/N listened to him, nodding here and there when he would glance at her. The ride felt shorter this time, she wished it wouldn’t end so soon. Being with Beomgyu was comforting, far better than facing what awaited her at home. The cold presence of her stepmother lingered in her mind, making her want to stay wrapped in the warmth of Beomgyu’s car just a little longer.

As Beomgyu pulled up in front of her house, Y/N felt a familiar heaviness settle in her chest. The warmth of the car, the quiet hum of the engine, and Beomgyu’s presence made it hard to step out into the cold night. She stared at the porch light glowing dimly, her fingers tightening slightly around the sleeve of her jacket. 

Beomgyu turned to her. “You okay?”

She hesitated, then nodded. But deep down, she wished she didn’t have to go inside just yet. Y/N pulled her phone out, the dim light casting across her face, she began to type a message. Thank you for tonight, I had a lot of fun (: Oh! And thank you for paying! A small smile appeared on Beomgyu’s face as he read the message. “Seriously, no problem, you don’t have to thank me.” Y/N let a soft smile form as she looked up at him. “I also had a really nice time with you though,” He paused for a moment, feeling a slight knot in his stomach. With a deep inhale he continued. “Maybe we could do this more often? Hanging out together outside of school?” A light pink tint appeared across his face but it was too dark in the car for Y/N to even notice it.

Y/N nodded her head a few times. 

“Cool, well… I’ll talk to you later then?” Beomgyu said with a soft tone, he was excited that she wanted to hang out more, he was trying to keep his cool. Y/N typed one last message to him, she turned her phone so he could read it. Good night (: get home safe!! It was a simple message but it was enough to warm his chest. Y/N grabbed her bag, before slipping out of his car. She turned and gave him a wave as she walked up to the front door of her home. Beomgyu made sure to sit there and make sure she made it inside before he pulled off. As soon as he was on the road, Beomgyu wasted no time connecting to a hands-free call with Taehyun. His excitement bubbled over, he had to talk about everything. “Hello?” Taehyun’s tired voice filled the car. “Taehyun, it was perfect.” Beomgyu had a huge grin on his face. Even in his drowsy state, Taehyun let out a chuckle. “Well… tell me about it.”

The drive back to Beomgyu’s dorm felt like it flew by as he couldn’t stop talking to Taehyun about the night. He went on and on about how fun ice skating was, how Y/N’s nervous laugh was the cutest thing he’d ever heard, and how they had hot chocolate.

At first, Taehyun was half-listening, his tiredness still lingering from a long day. But it didn’t take long for him to notice the shift in Beomgyu’s usual energy. His voice was still upbeat, but there was something extra in it—an almost nervous excitement that made it clear how much he’d enjoyed the night. He wasn’t just talking, he was gushing, like a kid telling a story he couldn’t wait to share.

“Man, you’re really into her, huh?” Taehyun said, sounding amused but not at all surprised. “I’ve never heard you talk this much about a girl before.”

Beomgyu paused, momentarily flustered. His hands gripped the steering wheel a little tighter as he thought about how to respond. “I… I don’t know, it just felt... easy, you know? I was nervous at first, but once we started skating... it just felt like we were both in the moment.”

Taehyun raised an eyebrow, smirking to himself. “You guys looked pretty cute in that picture. Your scarf looks good on her, yeah?” Of course, Beomgyu sent his best friend the photo they had taken together. 

Beomgyu laughed, feeling heat creep up to his face. “I didn’t say that, but yeah, she looked... really cute." His grin spread wider, his mind replaying the way Y/N had looked up at him when he wrapped the scarf around her neck. It had felt like the whole world had paused for a second.

Taehyun, now fully awake, could hear the soft fondness in Beomgyu’s voice, and something told him this was more than just a casual crush. He could practically picture his friend’s goofy grin as he drove. “Look at you, man. You’re grinning like an idiot. I can hear it.”

Beomgyu couldn’t help it. “I... I guess I am,” he admitted, his smile softening as he thought about Y/N again. “I don’t know what it is, but it feels different with her. I want to see her again. I can’t stop thinking about her.”

Taehyun was quiet for a moment as if weighing his friend’s words. “Well, that’s a good thing, right? Just don’t overthink it, man. If she’s the one you’re thinking about, then you’re on the right path.”

Beomgyu’s grip loosened slightly on the steering wheel, his heart lighter. "Yeah... I think so." He sighed softly.

The next afternoon, Y/N sat at her desk, her fingers gliding over the smooth surface of her sketchbook as she absentmindedly shaded a drawing. Her phone, propped against a candle jar, displayed Jiwon’s face—bright-eyed and animated as she recounted the details of Y/N’s night with Beomgyu for what felt like the tenth time.

“Girl, I told you a picture would be taken. And thank God you didn’t do that forced smile thing,” Jiwon teased, her eyes flicking to the ice rink photo on her screen. A grin spread across her face. “Ugh, you guys look so cute together. I’m so happy.”

Y/N paused mid-shading, her grip tightening slightly around her pencil. “Jiwon… it wasn’t a date,” she muttered, though even as she said it, something in her chest fluttered.

Jiwon let out an exaggerated sigh, dramatically flopping back onto her pillows. “Yeah, yeah… you keep telling yourself that.”

“He never called it a date,” Y/N insisted, her pencil moving in slow, careful strokes as she focused on the sketch. It was easier to concentrate on the lines than to acknowledge the warmth creeping up her neck.

Jiwon hummed knowingly. “Maybe not. But let’s be real, would a guy who doesn’t like you give you his scarf and look at you like that?”

Y/N swallowed, her eyes flickering to the scarf still resting at the foot of her bed. She hadn’t meant to keep it there. She had meant to return it, maybe fold it neatly in her bag for when she saw Beomgyu next. But last night, when she got home, she had hesitated—her fingers brushing over the soft fabric, the faintest scent of his cologne still clinging to it. And now, it was just… there. A quiet reminder of him.

Her lips twitched into a small, unbidden smile. “It was really sweet of him,” she admitted softly, her voice carrying the weight of something unspoken.

Jiwon gasped dramatically. “Oh my god. You’re so whipped.”

Y/N’s head snapped up, her cheeks instantly burning. “I am not,” she denied, far too quickly.

Jiwon grinned like a cat who had just caught a mouse. “Mmm. Right. And that’s why you’re staring at his scarf like it’s some kind of sacred relic?”

Y/N immediately turned back to her sketchbook, willing herself to ignore the giddy feeling in her chest. “I was just… thinking about how nice he is,” she muttered, but even she wasn’t convinced by her own words.

Jiwon smirked. “And how cute he is?”

Y/N still refused to look up, but she could hear the smirk in Jiwon’s voice, and it made her want to sink into the floor.

“So,” Jiwon continued, twirling a strand of her hair lazily around her finger. “When are you seeing him again?”

Y/N shrugged, pretending to be unaffected. “Probably at school.”

Jiwon hummed in response.

A comfortable silence settled between them for a moment, Jiwon lounging on her bed while Y/N focused on her sketch, her tongue poking out slightly in concentration.

“So,” Jiwon said, breaking the quiet, “what are you sketching over there?”

Y/N hesitated for half a second—too long.

“Oh, it’s nothing really…” she said quickly, too quickly. She lowered her head, her fingers fidgeting against the edge of the paper. She didn’t dare meet Jiwon’s gaze.

Jiwon narrowed her eyes. “It’s not nothing. Show me.”

Y/N clutched her sketchbook tighter. “Just doodling some animals. Nothing special.” She avoided eye contact, but the way her fingers hovered protectively over the page gave her away.

Jiwon’s smirk widened. “Come on, please! I won’t judge.”

Y/N shook her head furiously, but Jiwon had the patience of a saint and the persistence of a menace.

“You know I won’t leave you alone until you show me.”

With a dramatic sigh, Y/N reluctantly lifted her sketchbook, her stomach twisting into knots. She barely peeked at Jiwon’s reaction, her whole body burning with embarrassment.

Jiwon’s breath hitched. “Oh my god… Y/N. You’re sketching him?”

Y/N immediately lowered the sketchbook, gripping it tightly against her lap as if that could somehow erase what just happened. “I didn’t mean to,” she mumbled, her voice small. “It just… happened.”

Jiwon was silent for a second before she burst into laughter, her voice teasing but warm. “Oh my god, you have such a big crush on him. You literally sketched him. He’s stuck in your head!”

Y/N’s gaze stayed glued to the page, her fingers tightening around the pencil. She knew Jiwon was just teasing, but the words struck a different kind of nerve.

Because it was true.

No matter how much she tried to push it down, to reason with herself, to tell herself this was just another fleeting crush—Beomgyu was there. In the quiet moments. In the way her heart stuttered whenever she thought about his stupid, lopsided grin. In the warmth of his scarf wrapped around her. In the gentle way he spoke to her, like he saw her.

And that scared her.

She had been here before. Letting someone in, getting too comfortable, only to end up hurt in the end. The realization settled in her chest like a weight, her grip tightening around the sketchbook.

Jiwon, observant, caught the subtle shift in her demeanor. Her laughter faded slightly, replaced with something softer. “Hey…” she said gently, her voice careful. “You okay?”

Y/N forced a smile, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Yeah. Just… thinking.”

Jiwon studied her for a moment before nodding. “Just don’t overthink yourself into a hole, okay? Beomgyu’s not like that.”

Y/N swallowed hard, her eyes flickering back to the sketch. She wanted to believe that.

She really did.

But the fear still lingered, unshakable. Would he prove her wrong? Or would this end like all the others? For now, she didn’t have an answer. Before the conversation could continue, a soft knock tapped against her bedroom door. Panic flared in Y/N’s chest like a struck match. Without thinking, she flipped her sketchbook to a blank page, the pencil nearly slipping from her fingers. Her grip tightened around her phone. “I gotta go,” she whispered hurriedly, ending the call before Jiwon could respond. She set the phone down carefully, as if pretending nothing had happened would erase any evidence of it.

The silence that followed made her pulse race. She didn’t speak, but after a moment, the door creaked open, and her father peeked his head inside. His expression was hesitant, searching. When he spotted her sitting at her desk, he stepped in, closing the door softly behind him.

“Hey,” he said gently.

Y/N glanced up at him, offering a small, cautious smile. She wasn’t sure why he was here, but she waited, hands resting stiffly on her lap, her fingers twitching slightly. The air between them was quiet, uncertain.

“I just wanted to check in on you,” he said after a beat, his voice careful, like he was afraid of overstepping. “You rushed out of the house yesterday.”

Her chest tightened slightly. She had. And she hadn’t looked back.

As her father’s gaze drifted toward her desk, something else caught his attention. A paper, slightly off to the side, where the bright red 100% stood out against the crisp white page. A test. Multiple-choice answers were sloppily circled.

His brows lifted. “Hey, 100?” He stepped closer, picking up the paper to look at it properly. “That’s awesome.”

A flicker of warmth spread through her. Y/N ducked her head slightly, a shy smile tugging at her lips. Moments like this—when it was just them, without the tension of her stepmother’s presence—were rare. She wished they weren’t. She wished she could talk to him more, let him into her world the way she used to when she was younger. But she didn’t know how anymore.

“Did you have a good time last night?” he asked, his voice casual, but his stance betrayed him. He shifted slightly, hands in his pockets, the way he always did when he felt awkward.

Y/N gave him a small nod, her eyes dropping back to the blank page of her sketchbook.

Her father hesitated, then added, “He seemed like a nice guy.”

Y/N stiffened. Her fingers clenched slightly against the edge of her desk, and a grimace flickered across her face before she could stop it. This—this—was the last thing she wanted to talk about with her dad. It was hard enough processing it with Jiwon teasing her about it.

“Okay… okay, I’ll leave it,” he said, raising his hands in surrender. There was the faintest trace of amusement in his voice, but he let it go. “Just wanted to make sure you had a nice night.”

She pressed her lips together into an awkward smile, glancing up at him briefly.

A beat of silence.

Then, in a quieter voice, he said, “I’m proud of you, you know.”

Y/N’s head lifted in surprise.

“For getting out there,” he continued, his tone sincere. “I know it’s not easy for you.” He gave her shoulder a gentle pat, something warm and steady in the gesture, before turning toward the door.

Y/N watched him go, her chest tightening—not in anxiety this time, but in something softer. Warmer.

She barely heard the door click shut before she exhaled, sinking back into her chair. The words settled inside her, wrapping around the parts of her that often felt unseen.

I’m proud of you.

Her gaze lingered on the empty doorway for a few more seconds, soaking in the quiet comfort of the moment.

Then, finally, she turned back to her desk. Without hesitation, she reached for her phone and pulled up the ice rink photo.

Jiwon was right. Beomgyu had been lingering in her thoughts long after the night had ended. She turned back to the sketch of Beomgyu.

Her fingers moved instinctively, pencil gliding across the page, sketching out the curve of his smile, the messy strands of his hair that fell into his eyes. But no matter how much detail she added—the softness of his features, the light in his gaze—she knew it wasn’t enough.

Her art could never quite capture how beautiful he actually was. But still, she kept drawing.

Because if she couldn’t say it out loud, at least she could pour it into something real. Something she could hold in her hands.Something just for herself.

A few hours had passed, Y/N was now at the café, working through her shift. Today, the schedule was overstaffed, which usually meant one thing for her—cleaning duty. It wasn’t that she minded tidying up; in fact, she liked keeping things in order. But days like this always made her feel a little out of place. While her coworkers huddled behind the counter, laughing and chatting freely, she scrubbed surfaces and organized supplies, an outsider in the very place she worked.

They weren’t mean to her. They acknowledged her presence and smiled in passing, but they never truly included her. Every time she finished a task, another would be handed to her without question, as if her silence made her the default choice for the grunt work. It wasn’t their fault, she supposed. It was easier this way—for everyone. Still, she couldn’t help but wish they’d talk to her the way they talked to each other.

At least there was Hajoon. He was different from the others, always making an effort to ensure she was comfortable. He didn’t just give her tasks—he showed her how to do things, explained the ins and outs of the café, and most importantly, treated her like she was part of the team. She was grateful for him.

With a quiet sigh, Y/N wiped down the large café windows, watching as her coworkers joked around at the register. The glass gleamed under her touch, reflecting the warm glow of the café lights. She was exhausted, her arms aching from the repetitive motion. She just wanted to go home, curl up in bed, and disappear into the comfort of her favorite drama.

The chime of the front door startled her from her thoughts. She turned,  her heart stuttered at the sight. It was Beomgyu, Taehyun following behind him.

Her grip on the cloth tightened instinctively. The moment Beomgyu spotted her, he grinned, his entire face lighting up. He raised a hand in an enthusiastic wave before heading to the counter with Taehyun to order.

Y/N hesitated, debating whether she should go over and greet them, but instead, she remained rooted in place, forcing herself to focus on her task. She stole quick glances their way, watching as they laughed and chatted while waiting for their drinks. Beomgyu looked so effortlessly comfortable, so naturally vibrant, that it made her chest ache.

Once they had their drinks, the two of them didn’t head to an open table near the back like she expected. The two men sat at the one closest to where she was cleaning. Her stomach flipped.

“Hey,” Beomgyu greeted her with a smile, his voice warm and familiar.

Taehyun gave her a small nod in greeting, his expression soft.

Y/N swallowed and lifted a hand in a small wave. Then, remembering something, she held up a finger, silently asking them to wait a moment before slipping behind the counter. She dug through her bag, fingers brushing against the soft fabric, and pulled out Beomgyu’s scarf. She had neatly folded it before her shift, making sure it stayed clean. As she returned to their table, she hesitated for just a second before holding it out to him.

Beomgyu blinked, momentarily surprised. “Oh… wait, did you bring your own scarf today then?”

Y/N shook her head.

Beomgyu frowned, then, with a stubborn grin, pushed the scarf back toward her. “Then keep it again. I’m fine without it.”

Taehyun, who had been silently watching, exhaled through his nose and rolled his eyes. He saw right through Beomgyu’s act. He wasn’t just lending her the scarf—he wanted her to have something of his. A quiet, thoughtful gesture. But Taehyun knew Beomgyu well enough to recognize that he wasn’t going to admit it.

Y/N tilted her head, questioning if he was sure.

Beomgyu nodded. “We were thirsty, so I figured we’d stop by and see you.”

Something warm spread in her chest, that new feeling that she began to welcome instead of shy away from it. She pulled out her phone, fingers tapping quickly across the screen.

How are you guys?

Beomgyu glanced at her screen and smiled. “We’re good. Had a lazy Sunday, honestly.”

From the counter, two of her coworkers watched with mild curiosity. They had never seen Y/N interact like this before. To them, she had always been quiet, isolated. But here she was, engaging—laughing silently, typing responses, exchanging glances filled with an ease they had never witnessed. One of the girls, Juha, tapped a finger against the counter, making a mental note. Maybe they had been wrong to assume she didn’t want to be included.

Back at the table, Beomgyu suddenly leaned forward. “Oh, hey… next weekend, there’s gonna be this party. Did you maybe want to come?” He bit his lip slightly, his gaze searching hers. “No pressure, I just thought you could meet some more of my friends.”

Y/N froze.

A party.

Her mind immediately conjured images of crowded rooms, loud music, and unfamiliar faces pressing in on her. The thought alone made her hands clam up. She’d never been to a college party before—what if it was too much? What if she got overwhelmed? What if people expected her to talk? Was it like what she saw in movies? 

Before she could respond, Taehyun cut in. “Wait, that’s not next weekend.”

Beomgyu frowned. “What? Dude, yeah it is.”

“No. It’s not. Check the group chat.” 

Beomgyu sighed, pulling out his phone to scroll through his messages. His lips pressed together when he saw Taehyun was right. Taehyun chuckled, a smug smile sat on his face.

“Well,” Beomgyu looked back up at her with an easy grin, “not this upcoming weekend, but the one after. So I guess you’ll have more time to think about it.”

Y/N exhaled slowly, relieved for the extra time but still uncertain. She wanted to go, she wanted to say yes. But she wasn’t sure if she could handle it, this was something way too out of her comfort zone.

“But uh, if you’re not working this upcoming weekend, maybe we could still hang out?” Beomgyu continued, shifting slightly. “Maybe a movie at my place?”

Y/N hesitated, then quickly checked her work schedule. She turned her phone to show him, her shift ended late on Saturday.

“8:30 too late for you to come over?” Beomgyu asked.

She shook her head.

“Perfect. It’s a date then.” The words left his mouth before he could stop them.

Both of them stiffened.

Y/N felt her entire face heat up. Her brain short-circuited. Date?

Beomgyu’s eyes widened as realization dawned, his expression morphing into pure panic. “I mean—uh—hangout? Not a date. Or—” He groaned, rubbing his temples. “Oh my god.”

Taehyun let out a quiet, suffering sigh. “Wow. That was painful.”

Beomgyu opened his mouth to dig himself into a deeper hole, but Y/N quickly typed out a response, her hands trembling slightly.

Sounds fun! I’d like to watch a movie (: Don’t sweat it!!

Beomgyu read her message and let out a breath. “Perfect. I’ll text you later about it.”

Before they could say more, her coworker called her name. Y/N shot Beomgyu and Taehyun a small wave before disappearing to the back. They needed her to handle a few things in the back of the store before her shift ended. 

The moment she was gone, Taehyun turned to Beomgyu, deadpan. He couldn’t believe his best friend.  “Dude. That was awful.”

Beomgyu groaned, dropping his head into his hands. “I know.”

“But,” Taehyun shifted in his seat, a slight smirk appeared, before he took a sip of his drink, “she still said yes.” Y/N stepped into the storage room, the air cooler and quieter than the café outside. She set down Beomgyu’s scarf on a nearby shelf and ran her hands over her warm cheeks, she exhaled a breath she hadn't realized she was holding.

A date.

Her fingers trembled slightly as she reached for the first box of supplies, stacking cups into their designated spot. The word played on repeat in her mind, making her stomach twist in nervous knots. Beomgyu hadn’t even meant to say it, that much was clear from how flustered he got afterward—but still, the thought of it sent a rush of heat down her spine.

But suddenly her thoughts began to wander toward the party.

Her hands slowed as she tried to picture it. Conversations she wouldn’t be able to escape from. Would Beomgyu stay by her side the whole time? Would she even belong there?

She swallowed hard and focused back on sorting the lids and straws. It wasn’t like she had to say yes. She could just not go, save herself from embarrassment. 

But the way Beomgyu had looked at her, the hopeful smile on his face, the one that made her chest tighten. She liked spending time with him. Even now, just knowing he had come here to see her made her feel lighter.

Her hands found the soft fabric of his scarf, still resting on the shelf beside her. She clenched it gently, then exhaled, trying to push away the doubts clouding her mind.

One thing at a time, she told herself. The hangout was first. Just a movie, something familiar and safe. She could handle that. As for the party… well, she had time to think about it.