sweetvenomnet

Too late. The snowball splattered against my arm, icy wetness seeping into my sweater. I shrieked, half from the cold, half from disbelief.

“You’re the worst!” I cried, swatting at him as he burst into laughter.

“And yet, you still sit with me every day,” he said with a smug grin.

I rolled my eyes, trying not to smile. “Yeah, well, I make terrible decisions.”

The cold breeze picked up, but the silence that followed felt warm somehow. Comfortable. The kind that only came with someone who really knew you—someone like Jungwon. I was just about to tease him again when he let out a sigh. Not a dramatic one, but the kind that felt… tired. Heavy.

I glanced at him, pretending not to care. “What’s with the sigh? Don’t tell me you’re already tired of bullying me.”

He chuckled, but his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Nah. Just… still trying to figure out how to get Courtney to like me.”

My heart stuttered.

I blinked at him, then looked away quickly, forcing a small smile even as the familiar ache bloomed in my chest. “Still on that, huh?”

He groaned. “I’ve been looking everywhere—YouTube, Reddit, all those random advice pages. Nothing helps. She’s just… hard to read, y’know?”

I nodded, even though I didn’t trust my voice enough to speak right away.

“I thought maybe if I kept it simple and honest, she’d notice me, but…” He trailed off with another sigh.

I knew this story too well. He’d been crushing on Courtney—my tablemate, of all people—for months now. Ever since I told him I didn’t want to help him court her (because I couldn’t, not because I didn’t know how), he’d been trying to figure it out himself. And I? I just watched from the sidelines. Like I always did.

“Hey, don’t give up,” I said, finally. My voice was quieter than I meant it to be, but steady enough. “You’re—charming, in a weird, annoying kind of way. She’ll see it eventually.”

He laughed, nudging my shoulder. “You always know how to hype me up.”

I smiled. Just barely.

Three years. It’s been three years since I met Jungwon. Three years since I watched him smile at me across a crowded classroom and felt something inside me shift. Three years of laughs and late-night calls and shared secrets. And three years of him never noticing. I’ve never told him. Not once. Because he’s happy with the way things are, and he’s never seen me as anything more than his best friend. And really, what could I say? Hey, I know you like my tablemate, but I’ve been in love with you since we met—surprise?

No. That would ruin everything. He picked me—out of everyone—as his best friend. The only girl in his friend group. That had to be enough.

Even if it hurts. And so, I smiled again, ignoring the pain blooming quietly in my chest. Just like always.

“You don’t get it,” Jungwon groaned, flopping back on the bench like the world had personally wronged him. “I said ‘hi’ to her this morning and she just nodded. That’s it. No smile, no ‘hey Jungwon,’ no sparkle in her eyes, nothing. What does that mean? Is that a bad sign?”

I glanced at him, then at the sky, exhaling slowly through my nose. Not that he noticed.

Funny, really. I noticed everything about him. The way he tapped his fingers when he was nervous—usually in threes. The way his nose twitched slightly when he was fighting back a laugh. The way he always looked down and chewed the inside of his cheek when he was upset but trying to hide it. Right now, he was fiddling with the drawstring of his hoodie. Anxious. Second-guessing himself.

I knew all of it. Like the back of my hand. And yet—he only knew the things I told him.

I bit the inside of my lip. This is what it meant, didn’t it? Liking someone who didn’t like you back. You got to know all their little secrets, their moods, their silences—and they didn’t even know they were handing them over.

It felt like having a gift you could never unwrap.

“I mean, maybe she just had a bad morning,” I offered, voice light, like my heart wasn’t currently crumbling under the weight of every word he spoke.

He groaned again, dragging his hands down his face. “That’s what I thought! But then I saw her laughing with her friends like ten minutes later. So maybe I’m the bad morning?”

I let out a breathy chuckle, more out of habit than amusement. “You’re not that bad. Slightly annoying, but tolerable.”

“Gee, thanks,” he muttered with a mock glare.

I shrugged, eyes fixed on the snow-covered path in front of us. “Just telling the truth.”

He leaned his head back, closing his eyes, still ranting. “I just don’t get it. I’ve tried complimenting her, I gave her my notes for physics, I even—God, I even laughed at that weird joke she made about pigeons.”

He was still talking. And I was still listening. Each word is like a sharp crack against glass. It was kind of poetic, in a cruel way. He was busy whining about how hard it was to get someone’s attention, and I was sitting right beside him, breaking quietly, again and again, while never once asking him to look my way.

People always say love is beautiful. But they never mention how quiet it can be. How one-sided. How exhausting. I sighed softly—quiet enough he wouldn’t hear it.

Is it really an advantage, knowing all of him, when it doesn’t change anything? When he only sees me as the friend who listens?

The bench creaked a little as he shifted, still ranting, still lost in his thoughts about her. And I just sat there, holding the shards of my own heart in silence, smiling because that’s what he needed from me.

I tuned out a little.

His voice was still talking beside me, words about Courtney blending into the breeze like background noise. My mind wandered—like it often did when it got too hard to stay present. I thought about the first time we met. That stupid pen I dropped during roll call and how he picked it up, grinning like an idiot and saying, “Looks like fate wants us to be friends.”

He had no idea how seriously I took that.

Three years later and not much had changed, really. He was taller now, a little leaner, hair shorter, smile softer. But that same boy—the one who made me feel seen for the first time in forever—was still here.

“Y/N,” he whined suddenly, voice rising into a fake sob.

I blinked out of my daydream just in time to feel him grab my hand with both of his. Warm, solid, grounding.

“What—Jungwon?” I blinked at him, startled, caught off guard by the sudden affection. I looked down at our hands, his fingers wrapping around mine like it was nothing.

Because to him, it probably was. To me, it felt like everything.

He sniffled dramatically, tugging at my hand like a sulking kid. “Pleaseee help me. Just this once. I’m begging you. Courtney doesn’t even know I exist!”

I gave him an annoyed stare. “No. For the hundredth time. No.”

“Y/NNNN,” he dragged out my name, swinging our joined hands like we were five-year-olds on a playground. “Come on! You’re her tablemate! You could, like, casually drop my name, or I don’t know—sneeze it into her lunch or something!”

I yanked my head away with an exaggerated grimace. “Ugh. Stop. That’s so gross. You’re so gross.”

But he didn’t let go. Instead, he squeezed my hand tighter, his voice dipping into something almost sincere beneath the dramatic act.

“Just one help,” he said softly. “I just need you to get Courtney’s attention on me.”

I looked at him—and suddenly it felt hard to breathe.

There it was again. That face. That earnest look. That boy who, somehow, hadn’t changed at all since the day I fell for him. And I hated that he was asking me—of all people—for this. Like asking me to hand over my own heart, knowing it wasn’t going to be returned. 

My brain screamed at me. Don’t. Don’t help him. He’s asking you to carve a piece of yourself out for someone else to enjoy. But when I looked at him—really looked at him, with his ridiculous hopeful eyes and dumb puffy cheeks—I sighed. Again.

“…I’ll consider it.”

His eyes lit up immediately.

“You’ll help me?!”

“I said I’ll con—”

“THANK YOU, Y/N!” he shouted, jumping up off the bench like he just won the lottery, dragging our still-connected hands upward.

I just sat there, speechless.

His joy practically buzzed through the air, already lost in whatever fantasy he was playing in his head. Maybe imagining Courtney swooning over him. Maybe thinking of some over-the-top confession scene.

The next day, you were early. Earlier than usual, which was saying something—because you weren’t exactly known for being the first to arrive. You sat at your seat, fidgeting with your pen, tapping it against your notebook in a rhythm that didn’t really exist.

I looked around, trying to compose myself, while he giggled like a child high on sugar beside me. And all I could do was sit there quietly.

_

Why were you early?

It wasn’t because you were suddenly passionate about being punctual. No, of course not. You were early… because a small, pathetic part of you hoped Courtney might walk in, glance at you, and ask, “Why are you here so early?”

Maybe that’d spark a conversation. Maybe that would make it easier. Maybe you could start doing what Jungwon wanted you to do—help him. Even if it felt like you were setting your own heart on fire.

The classroom was mostly empty still, sunlight cutting in through the windows in soft golden lines. You adjusted in your seat, glancing at the door every time footsteps echoed down the hall.

You and Courtney had spoken before, sure. A few short conversations—passing notes when the teacher wasn’t looking, asking each other about formulas or homework, or sharing a ruler during pop quizzes. That kind of thing. Civil. Functional. Not exactly friendly.

Honestly? You were more of an acquaintance to her than anything else. She lived in a world of popularity, fashion, and attention—none of which you ever asked to be a part of. Her circle was loud, and bright, and shallow in ways you’d never quite understand.

You didn’t hear those things from Courtney herself, though. No, her friends told you. Not directly, of course. But they spoke freely—loudly—right in front of you as if your seat beside Courtney was invisible. As if your ears weren’t working. As if you weren’t even there. You didn’t look at them when they talked. You didn’t have to. Your ears always perked up the moment they said her name.

They said she had a new boyfriend every month. They said she was already bored of the guy she was dating now. They said she liked guys who knew how to spend on her, and Jungwon—well… Jungwon still split his lunch bills with you.

You never told him these things. Not really. Because he saw her as his goddess, his fairy, his queen. Untouchable. Perfect.

Except once.

Once, you’d dared to mutter it out loud: “She’s a playgirl, you know.”

And he—stupid, stubborn, hopeful as ever—smiled at you. Smiled.

“Don’t worry. I can change her,” he said.

And oh, how you wanted to smack him with the nearest textbook. Shake him out of that dreamland and make him see the real picture. But instead, you just sat there. You’d only rolled your eyes and sighed, not bothering to argue.

Now, whenever he brought her up, you didn’t say anything. Just a little shake of your head, like a tired habit.

You were still fidgeting when Courtney walked into the room. She was alone for once, eyes skimming the classroom before she spotted you already seated. And for a split second—just one—you thought she might say something. Ask why you were early. Ask anything, even just a hey.

But instead, she walked past you with a nod and sat down, pulling out her lip gloss and a compact mirror like you weren’t even there.

No words. Not even a glance. And yet here you were—trying to help the boy you loved win over a girl who didn’t even know you existed, despite sharing a desk with you for almost a year. You leaned back in your chair, exhaled through your nose, and stared up at the ceiling.

You sighed, defeated. Might as well scroll through your phone while waiting for class to start. If nothing else, maybe texting Jungwon would kill some time—or maybe knock some sense into him.

You pulled your phone from your pocket, the sleek, brand-new model catching the light as you adjusted it in your hands. It was a recent birthday gift from a relative—something you didn’t ask for, but accepted anyway. The matte finish shimmered under the classroom lights, and for a moment, the screen reflected the face you were trying hard to keep neutral.

You opened your messages, scrolling to Jungwon’s name.

[You]: I think I’m gonna bail on this whole “get Courtney’s attention” mission.

You hesitated, thumbs hovering over the send button. You weren’t sure if it was selfish to type it out. You weren’t even sure if it mattered—if he’d listen. But your thumb hadn’t even hit send when—

“Wait… is that the new Galaxy Z Nova?”

You blinked. That voice was not in your head. You turned slowly, surprised to see Courtney—actual Courtney—leaning a little toward you, eyes fixed on your phone like it was made of diamonds.

“Uh… yeah?” you said, unsure whether you were dreaming.

Her eyes widened. “No way. That’s the one I’ve been wanting. Look at the color—it’s so pretty.”

You blinked again. Processing. Did she just… talk to you?

For the first time—not about school, not about formulas, not about exam schedules. A real conversation.

You straightened a little in your seat, awkwardly angling your phone so she could see it better. “It’s um… yeah, it’s a gift. I wasn’t expecting it, but it’s nice.”

“Seriously, I love that shade,” she said, eyes lighting up as she leaned in a bit more. “Is it heavy? I’ve been trying to convince my mom to get me that exact model. The flip version, right?”

You nodded, stunned. “Yeah, it’s the flip. Lighter than it looks, actually.”

Courtney smiled—smiled—like you’d just offered her the moon. And somewhere in the back of your mind, a very small, very reluctant voice said: Well… Jungwon’s plan worked. Sort of.

You glanced down at your phone again, the unsent message to him still glowing on the screen. The words “I think I’m gonna bail” staring right back at you.

And now? Now, Courtney was looking at you like you were more than just the girl she shared a desk with. Like you were… interesting. All because of a stupid phone.

“Does the camera quality really live up to the hype?” she asked next, flipping her hair over her shoulder.

You hesitated, then smiled—tight-lipped, forced, but polite. “It’s actually pretty amazing.”

“Ugh, I need it,” she laughed, tapping her manicured nails against her desk. “You’re lucky. I’ll probably have to beg for it till the end of the semester.”

You didn’t know what to say, so you just nodded, letting the conversation drift into a silence again. Your phone buzzed in your hand. Jungwon.

[Jungwon]: Y/N!!! Tell me you made progress today. I’m manifesting this. I even wore my lucky socks.

You stared at the message, then back at Courtney—who was now reapplying her lip gloss and scrolling through her own phone, like the past minute of interaction had never even happened.

And just like that, the strange, fleeting moment of attention ended. You didn’t know what to feel. But one thing was clear—Courtney had finally noticed you. You just weren’t sure if that was a good thing.

Break time came faster than you expected.

You found Jungwon right where he always was—slouched at your usual spot under the stairs, snacking on some chips like he wasn’t anxiously awaiting your report. He looked up the second he saw you, eyes wide with anticipation.

“You talked to her?”

You sighed as you sat down. “Yeah, technically. She started the conversation.”

He straightened up like someone just injected adrenaline into his veins. “No way. What did she say? What did she do? Was she smiling? Did she—”

“She noticed my phone,” you cut in, raising the device slightly, “and talked about how she wanted the same model. That was it.”

For a second, Jungwon paused.

Then his eyes widened even more. “So… so should I get her a new phone for her to notice me? I should, right? Yeah, I should.”

And before you could even blink, he was already halfway to standing up, dusting imaginary dirt off his pants like he was about to march straight into the nearest store and splurge. You groaned and grabbed the back of his collar, yanking him down with enough force to make him plop right back onto the bench with a grunt.

“Firstly, no.” You pointed at him for emphasis. “Not now. Not later. You don’t even have the money to buy this kind of phone.”

You waved yours in front of his face. “This is not some vending machine item, Jungwon.”

He opened his mouth to argue, but you raised your voice just slightly.

“Secondly—and more importantly—girls’ instinct.” You gave him a pointed look. “You do not buy her a phone just to get her attention.”

“But—”

“No,” you cut him off again. “Pay attention to her interest in men first. I don’t want you wasting money just to end up as her sugar daddy with zero romantic feelings in return.”

He blinked at you. Hard.

“…Sugar daddy?”

“Yes,” you said, deadpan. “Congratulations in advance on becoming the emotionally drained, financially bankrupt fool who hands over expensive gifts just to be left on read.”

He narrowed his eyes on you. “You’re being dramatic.”

“I’m being realistic.”

There was a pause. You didn’t break eye contact. He didn’t either. And then, as if on cue, he sighed and slumped back against the bench like all the air had just left his body.

“…You really think she wouldn’t like me back?”

Your stomach twisted. God, if only he could see how you looked at him.

You gave a noncommittal shrug, choosing your words carefully. “I think… She's not the type of girl who falls for someone just because they’re sweet or thoughtful. She likes… flash. She likes attention. That’s what her friends said, remember?”

Jungwon frowned. “I can give her attention.”

“But not the kind she wants,” you said gently.

He didn’t respond this time. Just looked down at his hands, fidgeting with the hem of his hoodie. You didn’t want to say it, but it was already written all over your face: I could give you everything she couldn’t. If you’d just look at me once the way you look at her.

But of course… you said nothing. Because the moment you did, everything you had with him would change. And maybe—just maybe—being his best friend, the one he trusted most, was still better than not being in his life at all.

After break ended, you returned to class and, as expected, Courtney’s circle was already gathered around her seat—chattering, laughing, voices bubbling with the kind of drama they carried around like perfume. You didn’t need to guess twice. You knew the moment you sat down, you were going to hear something. You always did.

So, like routine, you took your seat quietly, pulled out your phone, and opened your favorite game. Not really to win—just something to keep your hands busy while your ears did all the real work. As per usual, they didn’t acknowledge you. You’d mastered the art of invisibility by now. 

Tap. Tap. You let your character die in the game, but your eyes stayed on the screen anyway.

“…Nishimura seems cool.”

You froze. Your thumb hovered over the screen mid-tap. Courtney said that. And though you didn’t react outwardly, something inside you blinked—surprised, confused, and maybe just a little… uneasy.

“You’re interested in that guy?” one of her friends responded with an incredulous scoff. “That guy’s emo. I don’t think you’re into that type?”

Courtney giggled. “Maybe he’s a fun type of emo.”

Your grip on your phone tightened slightly, the game screen fading into the background.

She’s interested in… Nishimura? And now, a different kind of storm brewed inside your chest.

One alarm was going off loud and clear: Tell Jungwon. She’s interested in someone else. Save him now before it’s too late. But another voice—the one you hated admitting existed—whispered just as loudly: Don’t say anything. Let him see it for himself. Let him realize she’s never going to be his.

It was cruel. But you were tired. Tired of watching him try.

Your mind drifted to Nishimura Riki. You’d seen him around—same year, same school. Quiet. Kept to himself. Sometimes wore earbuds even when music wasn’t playing. People labeled him as “emo” just because he wasn’t loud like the rest of them.

But Jungwon once corrected you when you’d asked about him during lunch, purely out of curiosity.

“Riki? He’s not emo, he just acts mysterious for fun. He’s actually really mischievous. Like, you’d be surprised. That guy once replaced all the teacher’s chalk with soap sticks.”

You hadn’t thought much about Riki since then. Your attention had always been reserved for Jungwon, after all. But now? Now Courtney was looking in his direction. Your stomach twisted, unsure what that meant for the next few days—whether Jungwon would get his heart broken, or worse… keep chasing someone who’d already changed direction.

School ended, finally.

You were packing up slowly, expecting the usual: walk home with Jungwon, maybe complain about homework, maybe let him ramble about Courtney again while you tried not to flinch with every word.

But today? Today came with a twist.

“Yo,” Jungwon called out as he jogged up to you, backpack bouncing off one shoulder. “Riki’s joining us today. He wants to hang at my place after we drop you off.”

You blinked. “Riki?”

As if summoned, Nishimura Riki appeared from behind him—quiet, hands in his pockets, hair slightly tousled from the wind, a calm expression on his face. His eyes, sharp and unreadable, were already on you. You hummed a noncommittal reply, nodding lightly as you adjusted your bag strap. 

But then you looked at Riki again. He wasn’t saying anything. Just standing there, casual but not sloppy. Detached but somehow still present. He had that kind of energy that drew your eye even when he wasn’t trying. And clearly, he wasn’t trying.

You glanced sideways and immediately regretted it.

Laughter. Loud, sharp, familiar. 

Courtney.

She was standing near the front gates with her group, still talking, still drawing attention like a magnet. Her eyes scanned the area casually—too casually—and you saw the exact second she spotted him.

Her eyes landed on Riki. And then on you. Your heart stopped. Not for romantic reasons this time—no, this was survival mode.

Because you saw it happen, clear as day: the assumption in her eyes. You were standing close to him. He was standing close to you. Jungwon was on the other side, talking easily like this was your trio’s daily routine.

It was all the ingredients she needed. You could already hear her sugary voice floating in the air tomorrow:

“Hey… I saw you with Riki yesterday. You guys are friends?”

“Can you maybe, like… pair me up with him?”

You almost shivered. Not from the cold. From that wild thought that might not be so wild at all. And so, without another word, you turned to Jungwon, grabbed the sleeve of his uniform jacket, and pulled.

“Let’s go,” you said quickly.

“Huh? Wh—?”

“Now.”

He stumbled forward, following you as you dragged him away from the school grounds with more urgency than necessary. Riki, ever silent, fell into step behind you both without a word, hands still buried in his pockets, like this was all part of some vague plan he didn’t care enough to question.

Courtney’s laughter faded behind you. So did the tension in your shoulders. You didn’t turn around. You didn’t have to. You knew she was watching. And you knew she’d get ideas. You didn’t want to be the middle person. Not again. Not with Riki. Not when Jungwon’s heart was still clumsily tied to her, and you were barely holding yours together.

As you walked down the sidewalk with Jungwon talking about what snacks they had at his place and Riki quiet beside you, you stared ahead and sighed.

Your sigh slipped out quietly—but apparently not quiet enough.

“Stop sighing. You’re polluting the air,” Riki muttered.

You gasped, looking up at him in surprise. Only to realize—wow, he really was tall. Your gaze landed somewhere around his forearm, and the height difference felt more insulting than endearing.

You stepped away quickly, narrowing your eyes at him. “What kind of line is that?”

He shrugged, not even looking at you, just casually scanning the snack aisle like you hadn’t just had your existence called out. Jungwon was still at the far end of the store, crouched in front of a shelf, debating between two different chip brands with a level of intensity you wished he used for life decisions. You glanced at him briefly, then back at Riki. And that’s when Riki said it—his voice soft, but sharp enough to cut through every wall you had built.

“If you don’t want to do anything to him, then stop whatever you’re feeling and move on.”

You stopped breathing.

Your grip on your phone tightened, your fingers twitching as you stared at him like he’d just read your diary out loud in front of a crowd. You had never told anyone. Not a soul. And yet here he was, saying it like he’d known for years.

You barely managed to whisper, “How…?”

Riki didn’t even look apologetic. If anything, he looked bored. “It’s obvious,” he said simply. “You stare at him with your loving eyes.”

Then he scrunched up his face in mock disgust. “Yet at the same time, I want to puke while seeing that happen.”

Your arm moved on instinct, landing a soft punch to his side. He flinched slightly but didn’t complain.

“How funny,” you muttered bitterly. “You saw that. He doesn’t.”

You pointed across the aisle where Jungwon had finally made up his mind and was now standing at the cashier, chatting with the lady and placing his snacks down like this was just another fun hangout with his two friends.

“Because he’s stupid at relationships,” Riki said bluntly.

“You’re stating the obvious.”

“So are you, when you decided to accept his request to get Courtney.”

You scoffed and rolled your eyes. “Have you heard from him that I declined the offer before?”

“Yeah. And what makes this time different?” he asked, eyes trained on you now.

You paused.

Jungwon turned then, holding up the bags of snacks triumphantly like he just won a game show. “Let’s go?”

You met Riki’s eyes again, and this time your voice dropped, quiet, but firm. “Because I honestly wish I can end it once and for all.”

Your heart ached at the words, but you meant them. Riki didn’t respond, just stared at you with that unreadable look, neither pity nor judgment, only… understanding, maybe.

“What are you guys talking about?” Jungwon asked as he approached, still smiling, completely oblivious to the emotional warfare you were barely holding together.

“Nothing,” you and Riki said in sync.

And then the three of you began walking again, down the familiar path toward your house—with a little more silence between your steps, and maybe, just maybe, a shift in the air that only you and Riki could feel.

You closed the door behind you softly, leaning your forehead against it, feeling the weight of your own body pressing against the wood like it could somehow hold all the emotions crashing down inside you. The conversation with Riki echoed in your mind, sharper now that you had the space to breathe:

“Yeah. And what makes this time different?”

“Because I honestly wish I can end it once and for all.”

Your heart ached for Jungwon, more than it ever had. But you weren’t taking back what you said. It had to be said. You couldn’t keep pretending forever.

Moving on—you thought about what that truly meant. To move on, you had to put distance between yourself and Jungwon. No more lingering in his orbit, no more pretending everything was okay when your heart had been silently shattering piece by piece every time he talked about Courtney.

And the hardest part?

Not prioritizing friendship. Because that was the only thing that had ever kept you grounded, and yet, now it felt like it was the very thing holding you back from healing.

He wasn’t suffering. He never even noticed.

You wiped away the one tear that had escaped your eyes. You weren’t going to break down now. Not after everything you had already held in. You stood up, shaking off the residual ache that still pulsed in your chest. Taking a deep breath, you walked toward your room, determined to wash the day off.

The warm shower did little to soothe the storm inside, but it was the only thing that gave you any semblance of clarity. When you finally emerged, refreshed but still heavy-hearted, you dropped onto your bed, the towel slung over your shoulder. You reached for your phone absentmindedly, your fingers trembling as you unlocked it.

And there, at the top of your notifications, was a message. From Riki.

“I know you didn’t have my phone number.”

“If you want to move on, tell me. I’ll help you.”

You froze. Your breath caught in your throat, and for a moment, you just stared at the screen, blinking as if the words would change if you looked hard enough.

Riki? Nishimura Riki, of all people, was offering to help you?

You almost laughed out of pure disbelief. Riki? An emo actor, an enigma, a guy who couldn’t care less about what people thought of him, offering to help you move on from Jungwon? That was absurd. But… intriguing, wasn’t it?

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at the thought. This was beyond strange. It felt like some twisted offer from someone who barely knew you—barely knew what you were feeling, but still somehow felt compelled to swoop in with this offer.

You let out a long sigh, biting your lip. Do I actually consider this? you thought, your mind racing.

You didn’t know. You didn’t know if you should feel disgusted or slightly relieved. The idea of Riki—of all people—helping you move on was ridiculous. But maybe it was exactly what you needed, in some bizarre way. He seemed to see right through you, after all. And maybe… just maybe, there was something to the strange offer he was throwing your way.

You stared at the message for a moment longer, then dropped your phone on the bed.

Moving on… It sounded so simple. But deep down, you knew it wasn’t. And part of you felt like Riki might understand that—maybe even more than Jungwon ever could.

With a frustrated sigh, you ran a hand through your damp hair. Maybe you didn’t have all the answers. Maybe you weren’t ready to take that step yet. But whatever you chose to do next, the first move was up to you.

_

Saturday. You didn’t expect much. Weekends had become routine: Jungwon would disappear to visit his grandmother, leaving you with your own thoughts. You’d stay inside, indulging in your comfort zone, avoiding the reality of your feelings for him and the strange turn your life seemed to be taking.

But this Saturday… was different.

You were still in your room, music playing softly, mindlessly scrolling through your phone, when you heard the knock on your door. You froze. Who could it be? You didn’t recognize the knock. And it was too early for anyone else to drop by. With a sigh, you got up and walked to the door. When you opened it, your eyes widened in shock.

There he was.

Riki.

Standing on your doorstep, hands in his pockets, looking almost too casual for someone who had no business being here.

“Riki?” you blurted out, blinking at him. “What are you doing here?”

He smirked slightly, leaning against the doorframe. “Well, you said you wanted to move on, right? So here I am. Time to drag you out of your comfort zone.”

You stared at him, disbelief still taking root in your chest. “How did you even find where I live?”

He shrugged, completely unbothered. “Street nerd. I remember the route when Jungwon and I walked you home.”

Your mind quickly replayed that one time—the time when Jungwon had casually walked you home, laughing at some stupid joke. It felt like years ago.

“But… it was just one time?!” you protested.

He raised an eyebrow, a glimmer of amusement in his eyes. “And one time is enough.”

A shiver ran down your spine as you processed his words. You stepped back, instinctively trying to put more space between you and him.

“Jeez. You creep me out,” you said, trying to cover up the uncomfortable feeling crawling under your skin.

Riki didn’t seem phased. Without warning, he reached out, using his index finger to lightly press against the center of your forehead, giving you a gentle push.

“Don’t worry,” he said, a smirk playing on his lips. “I have no interest in stalking you.”

You blinked, trying to figure out if you were more disturbed by his sudden appearance or the calm way he was casually pushing his way into your space. The guy was unpredictable—like an enigma wrapped in a hoodie.

“Well, you’re already here,” you muttered, more to yourself than to him. “What exactly do you want from me?”

Riki’s smirk turned into a more genuine grin. “I’m here to help you. No more sitting in your little bubble. Let’s go do something real.”

You hesitated, still thrown off by the fact that he was standing at your door. But despite the unease gnawing at you, you couldn’t deny the tiny spark of curiosity that tugged at you. This was… unusual. A little terrifying. But also strangely freeing.

“Okay, fine. Just don’t… don’t do that weird push thing again,” you said, shaking your head as you opened the door wider for him.

He chuckled, stepping past you and into your house. “I’ll try to be on my best behavior.”

You eyed him suspiciously, half expecting him to pull something else bizarre, but instead, he just made himself comfortable. It wasn’t what you expected, but it was definitely something you didn’t know you needed.

You watched as Riki walked further into your living room, his presence somehow taking up more space than it should. The air between you two felt thick, and you couldn’t shake the sense of discomfort that crept up your spine. His smirk—always so confident, so sure of himself—only made you more uneasy.

You cleared your throat, trying to push the awkwardness down. “So, how exactly are you going to help me move on?” you asked, still skeptical. It was hard to imagine him helping you with something as personal and complicated as your feelings for Jungwon. But you had already let him in your house—part of you wondered if maybe, just maybe, he’d surprise you.

Riki, who had been casually looking around, turned his gaze back to you. His smirk didn’t fade; if anything, it deepened, as if he knew exactly how unsettled you were, and he was enjoying it.

He took a step closer to you, his eyes narrowing slightly, studying you in a way that made your chest tighten. His presence loomed—almost too much.

You felt your heart race, but not in the way you’d expect. Instead of the fluttery nerves you might get when Jungwon was near, this was different. This was a slow burn of anxiety building in your gut, and you couldn’t place why.

He closed the gap between you with an easy, deliberate step.

You swallowed, backing up a step unconsciously, but the more you backed away, the closer he seemed to come. He was so much taller than you, and the way he moved made your pulse quicken—not in excitement, but in dread.

“Riki—what are you—?” You tried to ask, but your voice trailed off.

He was so calm, so composed. There was something in his quiet confidence that unsettled you even more. It was like he knew what you were thinking before you said anything, and it made the space between you feel more dangerous than it should have been.

“Just relax,” Riki said, his voice low, but there was something about the way he said it—almost like a challenge. He stopped right in front of you, his smirk unwavering, and for a moment, you couldn’t help but feel that familiar unease creep into your bones. He wasn’t threatening you, not directly, but the way he carried himself was almost like he was pushing your boundaries just to see how you’d react.

You shifted uncomfortably, still unsure of what he was trying to do. He had been so casual about helping you move on, but now… now it felt like something else. Something deeper. More complicated.

“Are you going to help me, or are you just here to mess with me?” you finally asked, your words sharp, trying to mask the uncertainty you were feeling.

Riki’s smirk faltered for just a second before it returned, even sharper than before. He took another step, his presence practically closing off the space between you. You couldn’t back up anymore, your back pressing into the armrest of the couch.

“I’m here to do both, actually,” he said with a casual shrug. “But mostly, I’m here to make you face things. Things you’re too scared to confront.”

You felt a chill run down your spine. There it was again—his knowing. He always seemed to be one step ahead of you, as if he understood something about you that you weren’t even willing to admit.

“Face things?” you asked, your voice quieter now, unsure what you were even asking for anymore.

“Yeah.” His eyes never left yours as he stepped even closer, lowering his voice just enough to make your heart race in a completely different way. “Like the fact that you’re not really over Jungwon. You’re still caught up in him, and until you admit that, nothing’s going to change.”

Your breath caught in your throat. You had been trying so hard to hide it, to bury it deep down, but somehow, Riki had figured it out. You couldn’t deny it—he was right. Your feelings for Jungwon were still there, maybe more than they ever were, and it hurt to even think about letting go of them.

You opened your mouth to say something, but the words didn’t come out. Riki tilted his head slightly, as if waiting for you to say something—anything—but you were frozen. The reality of his words hit you harder than you expected, and suddenly, the weight of your own emotions felt too much to bear.

Riki didn’t wait for you to speak again. He took a step back, crossing his arms casually. His smirk was still there, but it didn’t feel playful anymore. It felt… like he’d just cracked open something you’d been keeping locked away.

“You’re stuck, aren’t you?” he asked softly. “You want to move on, but you can’t. Because you still think there’s a chance with him. But you and I both know, there’s nothing left for you there.”

You stayed silent, your heart hammering in your chest. His words echoed through your mind, each one hitting harder than the last.

You couldn’t help but feel a mixture of frustration and… something else—something unfamiliar—welling up inside you. Riki’s words hit too close to home, and despite yourself, you wanted to lash out.

You crossed your arms tightly over your chest, narrowing your eyes at him. “You think you know everything, don’t you?” you shot back, voice dripping with sarcasm. “You know nothing about me. Or how I feel.”

Riki raised an eyebrow, that damn smirk still tugging at his lips. He took another step toward you, but this time, it didn’t make you feel trapped. Instead, you were more annoyed by his cocky confidence than ever before.

“Of course, I do.” His voice was a taunting whisper now. “You’re predictable. You think hiding your feelings is gonna make them go away. You think if you avoid facing them, they’ll magically disappear.”

You exhaled sharply, trying to suppress the sting of his words, but his bluntness cut deeper than you wanted to admit. “It’s not about hiding,” you said, your voice rising a little in frustration. “It’s about not wanting to deal with people like you, who think they have the answers to everything.”

Riki clicked his tongue. “Yeah, well, if you weren’t so busy hiding, maybe you’d see things for what they are. You think you’re just gonna walk away from Jungwon like it’s that easy?”

“Shut up,” you spat, glaring at him. “You don’t know anything about me. You think I’m some fragile thing, just because I don’t walk around wearing my heart on my sleeve like you.”

Riki tilted his head, his grin still there. “Oh, believe me, I know enough. It’s so obvious when you’re in love with someone, but you’re too scared to do anything about it. You think you’re fine, but every time his name comes up, you act like someone just took your favorite toy.”

You ground your teeth together, your hands clenching into fists at your sides. “And you think I care what you say about it?”

“Oh, I know you do.” Riki’s eyes gleamed, the challenge in his tone unmistakable. “The way your eyes follow him when he walks into a room, the way you act like his opinions are the only ones that matter. It’s painfully obvious.”

You didn’t want to admit it, but every word he said hit a little too close to home. The worst part was that it was true. He was right, and the reminder made you feel like you were suffocating.

“Why do you even care, Nishimura? You don’t even know me,” you said, frustration dripping from every syllable.

Riki leaned back, rolling his eyes like you were the most predictable person in the world. “Because I can’t stand watching people like you play pretend, like pretending everything’s fine is somehow going to fix things. It’s pathetic.”

Your pulse quickened, your chest tightening. “You don’t know anything about what’s been going on in my life, so stop acting like you’ve got the answers.”

“Oh, I’ve got plenty of answers,” he shot back, his voice thick with mockery. “You’re afraid of moving on. You’re afraid of admitting what you really feel, because it’s easier to stay in the comfort of your denial. You just don’t want to let go of Jungwon, even though he’s too busy chasing after other girls.”

The words stung, but there was truth in them, even if it wasn’t the truth you wanted to hear.

Without thinking, you took a step toward him, furious. “You think I don’t know that? You think I don’t see what’s happening? You think this is easy for me?”

Riki raised his hands in mock surrender. “Oh, I don’t know. Seems pretty easy for you to just sit back and do nothing while the guy you claim to like slips away.”

That was it. The frustration you’d been holding inside for so long finally exploded. “You think this is easy? Do you have any idea how much I’ve been holding back? You think I don’t know what’s happening? You think it doesn’t kill me every day to see him not notice me, to watch him go after someone else while I stay stuck in this mess?”

Riki stared at you, no longer mocking or teasing. He was studying you, like he was finally seeing the layers of frustration and pain you’d been hiding.

“Fine,” you snapped, catching your breath. “I’ll stop hiding. I’ll stop pretending. But you know what? That doesn’t mean I’m going to be fine. It doesn’t mean that I’m suddenly going to get over Jungwon because you say so.”

Riki paused for a moment before his smirk returned, though it was softer this time, almost like a challenge. “I didn’t say you’d get over him. But you sure as hell won’t get anywhere sitting here crying about it.”

You exhaled sharply, frustration boiling beneath your skin. “So, what do you expect me to do, huh? Walk away from everything? Move on like it’s nothing? Easy for you to say, since you don’t have anything to lose.”

Riki’s eyes darkened, but the smirk never left. He took another step back, breaking the tension in the room. “Yeah, because running away from everything is such a great idea. But if you want my advice, you might as well try something new.”

You both stood there for a long moment, the silence stretching between you. Your heart was still racing, your thoughts chaotic and scattered.

Then, with a frustrated sigh, you shook your head and muttered under your breath, “Fine. Let’s go. Get me out of here. Maybe I’ll forget about it for a while.”

Without another word, you turned toward the door, walking out of your house with Riki right behind you. You could feel the tension easing slightly as you stepped outside, but there was still a weight in your chest.

The walk was silent for a few moments, the tension between you and Riki still palpable, but as time passed, it started to feel less like an argument and more like an odd truce.

Riki, ever the instigator, broke the silence first, turning to you with that usual mischievous grin. “So, where exactly are we going, Miss ‘I’m Done With It All’?”

You rolled your eyes at his tone, but a small smile tugged at the corner of your lips. “I don’t know. Maybe a café or something. Somewhere I can actually get a good coffee and stop thinking about how you think you know everything about me.”

“Ah, the ‘coffee and forget about it’ method,” he replied, an amused twinkle in his eyes. “Classic. You really know how to run from your problems, huh?”

You playfully shoved his shoulder. “Shut up. It’s better than sitting around sulking all day.”

“True, true,” he agreed, chuckling. “And hey, you might learn something new about yourself while you’re at it.”

You looked over at him, raising an eyebrow. “And what would that be?”

Riki shrugged, his hands in his pockets. “Who knows? Maybe you’ll learn that there’s more to life than just moping over one person. Maybe there’s more to people than you think.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you said, though you were starting to feel more at ease around him. “Like you, right? Mr. Emo, ‘I hate the world, but I’m secretly a softie’ type.”

He laughed, loud and carefree. “I’m not emo. I just don’t care what people think. You’re the one who’s too busy worrying about how other people see you.”

“Not true,” you countered, though you were laughing too. “I just don’t need to advertise how I feel all the time. Unlike some people.”

“Hey, I don’t advertise it. It’s just who I am,” Riki said with a shrug, looking at you sideways. “But you? You’re the one who thinks pretending it’s all fine is gonna make everything okay. Guess what? It won’t.”

The words stung less this time, and you found yourself thinking about them longer than you expected. “Yeah, I get it now,” you muttered, more to yourself than to him. “Maybe I’ve been a little… too okay with everything. Maybe it’s time for a change.”

Riki’s eyes softened just slightly, and for a brief moment, you caught a glimpse of something other than his usual teasing demeanor. “Good. Change is good. Besides, you deserve better than being stuck in some silly cycle with someone who doesn’t even know you feel like this.”

You nodded, thinking about his words. He didn’t know the full story, but somehow, he’d already started to chip away at the walls you’d built up around yourself. You were so used to keeping things in, but for some reason, when Riki was around, it felt like you could let it out a little without fear of being judged.

“So, if you don’t want me to get all ‘emo’ on you,” you said with a smirk, “then what do you suggest I do? Just let go of Jungwon and forget everything?”

Riki grinned, nudging you with his shoulder again. “Not forget, but definitely move on. Life’s too short to hold onto things that keep you stuck.”

You didn’t say anything right away, but you let the words sink in. As you both walked further down the street, it became clear that this strange, dissonant interaction was actually something you kind of enjoyed. The little moments of teasing, the way he kept pushing you to think outside your comfort zone—it wasn’t as annoying as you’d initially thought.

The awkwardness that had once surrounded Riki faded little by little, and what remained was a comfortable silence between the two of you, broken only by the occasional snarky comment or laughter.

Eventually, you found yourself genuinely enjoying his company. It was like he wasn’t trying to get anything from you, but at the same time, he was also never too serious. He was there, just there, and it felt good to just be around someone who wasn’t trying to change you or make you fit into a box.

And honestly, you were starting to like that feeling.

You arrived at a small café, the warm aroma of fresh coffee greeting you both as you stepped inside. You ordered your drinks, and as you sat down at a table, Riki continued to joke around, but there was something different about the way he spoke to you now. He wasn’t just the guy who liked to mess with you for fun—there was a subtle understanding in his words, as if he actually cared about what you were going through, even if he didn’t always show it.

“So, this is a nice change of pace,” you said, finally letting yourself relax as you sipped your coffee. “I don’t think I’ve ever had a normal conversation with you, without the back-and-forth.”

Riki leaned back in his chair, grinning. “Well, I’m a complicated guy.”

“Yeah, well, you don’t seem that complicated to me anymore,” you said, feeling a warmth spread through you. “You’re just… you. And it’s actually kind of nice.”

His grin softened, but only for a moment. “Don’t get used to it. I’m still a pain in the ass.”

You laughed, feeling lighter than you had in a long time. “I don’t mind. A little chaos never hurt anyone.”

As the two of you continued to talk and tease, the walls inside you started to crumble, and for the first time in a long while, you felt like you were actually enjoying the moment. Riki might have been a little mischievous, a little cocky, but in his own weird way, he was helping you see things differently.

And maybe, just maybe, you were starting to see him in a new light, too.

As the days passed, the hangouts with Riki slowly increased, and you found yourself starting to look forward to spending time with him, even if it was just a casual walk or a trip to the café. At first, the idea of spending so much time with him felt odd—after all, he was the guy who had once teased you endlessly, the guy who was always on the edge of sarcasm and mischief. But slowly, as you got to know him more, his presence didn’t feel as irritating. Instead, it became somewhat comforting.

You began to notice the little things—how he was surprisingly good at listening when you needed it, how he didn’t judge you when you just needed to vent about your frustrations. He was a mischievous guy, yes, but there was a certain depth to him that you hadn’t expected.

One afternoon, while you were hanging out in a park with Riki, you casually mentioned how you were still dealing with Jungwon. The familiar ache crept into your chest as you thought about him. “He’s still hung up on Courtney, you know,” you said, trying to keep your tone light, but Riki’s eyes immediately softened as he heard your voice falter.

“You’re still helping him with this?” Riki asked, his tone unusually serious for someone who always joked around.

You sighed, looking down at your hands. “Yeah. I’m still trying to help him. He’s my best friend, and… well, I don’t want him to get hurt.”

Riki scoffed, his expression hardening. “It’s a cycle. He’s never going to notice you if you keep doing this. If you keep helping him chase after someone else, you’re just letting yourself stay stuck in the past.”

You shifted uncomfortably, the words hitting too close to home. “I know. But it’s hard. I can’t just stop helping him. He’s… he’s always been there for me. I can’t just—”

“I get it,” Riki interrupted, his voice softer now, but firm. “But you can’t keep putting yourself through that. You deserve better. You deserve to not be the one always left behind while he chases after someone else.”

You swallowed, biting your lip to stop the tears that threatened to surface. “I know,” you whispered, “but it’s just… hard to let go.”

Riki, who had been leaning against a nearby tree, pushed himself off and walked closer to you. His usual teasing grin was gone, replaced by an understanding expression. “I don’t know why you’re so obsessed with him, Y/N. You’re better than that. And you deserve someone who sees you for who you are, not as someone to run to for help all the time.”

The truth stung more than you expected, but you didn’t push it away. You didn’t argue with him. Maybe he was right. Maybe you did need to stop letting yourself be caught in this endless cycle with Jungwon. But it wasn’t easy, and you didn’t know how to let go.

Days passed, and you continued to hang out with Riki. Sometimes it was just the two of you grabbing a coffee or going for a walk, while other times, you’d invite him to join you and Jungwon for lunch. It became more of a routine, and with each day, Riki’s presence became more natural. He’d show up with his usual grin, but now there was something more relaxed about it.

One day, Jungwon looked up from his phone and raised an eyebrow as you casually invited Riki to join the group. “Wait, you want Riki to join us?” he asked, his voice laced with surprise.

You shrugged, pretending to be casual about it. “Yeah, why not? He’s been hanging out with me more lately. Plus, you know… it’s good to have a variety of people around.”

Jungwon just nodded, his mind clearly somewhere else, likely still thinking about Courtney. He didn’t ask too many questions, but you could tell he was confused about the growing presence of Riki in your life. It wasn’t until a few weeks later that he seemed to catch on.

It was late in the evening, and you, Jungwon, and Riki were sitting at a small table in a diner, eating fries and talking about random stuff. Jungwon was quiet as he scrolled through his phone, but you couldn’t help but notice how his attention kept drifting between you and Riki.

Finally, he set his phone down with a sigh. “So, you two really hang out a lot now, huh?”

You shrugged nonchalantly. “Yeah, I guess we do.”

“Just…” Jungwon hesitated, looking uncomfortable. “What’s going on between you two? You’re always with him now.”

You opened your mouth to say something, but Riki beat you to it. “You know, Y/N doesn’t need a permission slip from you to hang out with me,” Riki said, his voice playful but sharp enough to make Jungwon pause.

Jungwon looked at him, surprised by his response. “I didn’t—”

“I know you didn’t mean anything by it,” Riki cut him off, leaning back in his chair. “But Y/N’s not your project. She’s not here just to help you get your crush, you know?”

The air between them grew heavier, and you quickly changed the subject before things could escalate. “So, Riki, what do you think about the movie we were talking about last time?”

Jungwon, still clearly lost in his thoughts, barely participated in the conversation after that. But you didn’t mind. You were too focused on Riki and the way he seemed to always know exactly what to say when you were struggling with your feelings for Jungwon.

It wasn’t immediate, the healing process, but you started to notice small changes in yourself. Riki’s words stuck with you. Every time you saw Jungwon get lost in his world of Courtney, you realized it hurt less. You didn’t feel as left behind. You started to see yourself as someone more than just the person helping out the guy she liked. Riki didn’t make you forget about Jungwon, but he did make you feel seen in ways that Jungwon couldn’t, even if he tried.

And as the days went by, the ache you felt slowly lessened. It wasn’t gone, not yet. But now, you were no longer just a spectator in your own life. You were part of it, with Riki right beside you.

A month had passed since you started hanging out with Riki, and surprisingly, things had begun to shift in a way you hadn’t expected. You had successfully helped Courtney get to know Jungwon more, and in the process, you had started to distance yourself from the suffocating feelings you had for him. The pain, while still there, was now just a dull ache in the background, no longer consuming your every thought.

You could see Jungwon now, telling you about his latest interactions with Courtney, and even though he was practically glowing with excitement as he told you how she had asked for his phone number, something inside you didn’t hurt anymore. You didn’t feel that familiar ache. You didn’t feel that sting. You just… smiled. A genuine smile, the kind that had been absent for so long, the kind that felt lighter than anything you had experienced in months.

It wasn’t that you were thrilled for Jungwon, though. You were happy for him, yes, but there was something else there—a sense of relief. The sense that you had finally let go. And for the first time in a while, it wasn’t just a temporary distraction; it felt like a real change.

That night, after Jungwon had walked you back home, you sat down in your room and grabbed your phone. Your fingers hovered for a moment, and then you quickly typed out a message to Riki.

Hey, Riki. I just wanted to say thanks… for everything. I really think I’ve moved on, and I owe a lot of that to you.

You stared at the message for a moment before you hit send, feeling a flutter in your chest. The message felt right, and even though you weren’t sure what kind of response you’d get from him, you still waited for his reply. You kept your phone close, just in case he texted back quickly.

Minutes turned into an hour. Then two. You could feel your anticipation rising, but there was no reply.

You couldn’t help but smile anyway.

You had spent so much time agonizing over moving on, about healing, but now, it felt effortless. Riki’s odd mixture of teasing and care had gotten you through this in ways you hadn’t expected, and in some strange way, you were thankful for his antics. They had distracted you, kept you occupied with something other than your unrequited feelings.

Eventually, your phone buzzed. The screen lit up, and there it was—the familiar, snarky response.

“You’re welcome, princess. Just don’t expect me to go soft on you now that you’ve moved on. And don’t get too comfortable, I’m still the one who has the best advice.”

You chuckled at the message, clicking your tongue. You should have expected that. It was Riki, after all. But for the first time, it didn’t annoy you. Instead, it made you laugh—a real, honest laugh.

You quickly typed back: “I’ll treat you to food as a thank you. I know, I know, you don’t need my pity food, but still… you’ve earned it.”

You hit send, already picturing the look on his face when he read it. It wasn’t exactly a “thank you” in the way he’d expect, but somehow, it felt fitting. You had come to appreciate Riki’s weird, mischief-filled ways.

To your surprise, Riki didn’t keep you waiting this time. His response was quick, as usual.

“Pity food? You think I’d accept anything less than gourmet from you? Alright, I’ll come. But don’t think I won’t judge your choice of restaurant.”

You grinned, knowing Riki was probably half-joking but still serious about his food standards. You were more than happy to oblige, though. You were glad to treat him, not just because of his advice but because his presence had made everything easier.

The days of agonizing over Jungwon were over. You weren’t just moving on from him anymore; you were looking forward to what was next. And maybe, just maybe, what was next wasn’t just about moving on—it was about what you had right in front of you now.

You set your phone down and got ready for the evening. You still couldn’t believe how much your life had changed in just a month.

The atmosphere between you and Riki was oddly comfortable, something you hadn’t expected when you first started hanging out with him. Sure, you had your usual back-and-forth teasing, but something about today felt different. It was light-hearted, easy. It had been a while since you could just breathe without the weight of your unspoken feelings for Jungwon hanging over you.

You both sat across from each other at the restaurant, and you found yourself staring at the menu, your mind wandering. For the first time in ages, your thoughts weren’t consumed by Jungwon and his situation with Courtney. You could actually focus on yourself.

You muttered more to yourself than anyone, half-lost in thought as your finger traced the lines on the menu. “If only… who I liked was you, Riki. You’re actually really good at helping me move on.”

You didn’t think much of it, simply lost in your own world. But, the moment you said it, you instantly regretted it. You kept your eyes glued to the menu, waiting for your moment to order so you could move past the awkwardness. The words had slipped out of your mouth without thinking. And now, your heart was racing in a way that made you regret it even more.

Riki, however, didn’t respond immediately. There was an eerie quiet that followed, and you couldn’t bear to look up to see his reaction. You focused hard on reading the specials, pretending like you hadn’t just made the biggest blunder. When you finally decided you were ready to order, you looked up only to find Riki blinking at you, his face partially hidden behind the menu.

He blinked once. Then twice. Then he lowered the menu, his expression unreadable for a moment before he spoke again.

“You know what you want?” he asked, his voice strangely soft, almost guarded.

You nodded quickly, trying to regain composure. “Yeah, I know. Uh, I’ll go with the pasta… thanks.”

He ordered in his usual confident way and then, out of nowhere, shifted the conversation to something more serious. His voice became less playful, more solemn.

“Now that you’ve moved on… the next thing,” he began, his gaze steady as he looked at you, “is to love yourself before you take another step in loving your future partner.”

It was so unlike Riki to be so serious, but the way he said it caught you off guard. You blinked, unsure how to respond to the sudden weight of his words. But then, almost without thinking, you spoke—half-joking, half-serious.

“And what if you’re what I want as my future partner?” you asked, your voice teasing, but the words coming out before you could stop them.

As soon as you said it, a small gasp of realization escaped your lips. You didn’t mean to sound so bold. You had no idea what had gotten into you. Before you could even process your own words, you erupted into a fit of laughter, cringing at how ridiculous it had sounded.

But Riki… Riki didn’t laugh with you. Instead, he went completely silent, his mouth hanging slightly open as he stared at you, unblinking. You quickly tried to apologize.

“Sorry, sorry, just too cringe. I didn’t mean to say that, really,” you stammered between laughs, unable to stop yourself.

Riki, still speechless, ran a hand through his hair, looking flustered for the first time since you’d known him. “You… you can’t say that out of nowhere!” His voice was flustered, but there was no denying that he was caught off guard by your sudden honesty.

You couldn’t help it. You laughed even harder, wiping tears from your eyes. “I swear, I didn’t plan that! It just came out! I’m so embarrassed,” you said between breaths, trying to catch your breath from laughing so much.

Riki finally broke into a grin, shaking his head with a chuckle. “You’re lucky I’m not some random guy. Otherwise, I’d be questioning what’s wrong with you.”

“You’re not wrong,” you replied, still giggling, “but I promise I’m just a little crazy. You get used to it.”

Riki rolled his eyes but couldn’t hide the slight smile tugging at his lips. “You’re lucky I don’t hold grudges,” he said, still looking at you with that half-amused expression. “But honestly, you’ve gotta stop putting me on the spot like that.”

As the conversation continued, you both moved past the awkwardness, the laughter still lingering between you two. But as the night went on, you couldn’t help but realize that Riki’s words had meant more than you first let on. He was right, in some ways. Maybe this was the next step: not rushing into anything with someone else, but focusing on yourself, on the people who actually cared for you, and not just the ones you wished would.

And maybe—just maybe—you had started to appreciate Riki in ways that were hard to admit.

_

Two months had passed since that ridiculous yet surprisingly meaningful conversation with Riki. Life had taken on a new rhythm. The days had been a blur of learning to let go, finding pieces of yourself you’d forgotten existed, and, surprisingly, sharing it all with Riki. You’d gone from two people who would barely tolerate each other’s teasing to two people who were constantly looking out for each other, joking, and sharing moments of vulnerability.

Jungwon, after months of chasing after Courtney, finally got what he wanted. She agreed to be with him, and you couldn’t help but feel genuinely happy for him. Despite the sting of watching him with her, a sense of peace settled within you. You had helped him, like you promised, and seeing them together was bittersweet but ultimately freeing. Jungwon deserved happiness, and Courtney—whether you liked it or not—was the one who made him happy.

But now, you were focusing on yourself. Really focusing. Riki had made it clear that before anything else, you needed to find your own worth. And he was determined to help you see it, even though at times you didn’t feel like you could. His quiet encouragement, his sharp and sometimes teasing words, his off-hand gestures of care—they were all chipping away at the walls you’d built around yourself.

There was a part of you, a piece of your heart that you couldn’t ignore, that began to see Riki differently.

You never imagined that you would grow so close to him. He was supposed to be this quiet, mysterious guy—an “emo actor” as some people called him—but the more time you spent with him, the more you realized there was so much more to him. He was thoughtful, patient, and surprisingly manly in a way that made you look at him in a new light.

His confidence was subtle but unmistakable. There was something about the way he carried himself, the way he didn’t need to boast or try hard to get attention. He just… existed in the moment. And every time he laughed, every time he teased you, every time he gave you advice or simply stayed by your side, you realized that the feelings that had once been wrapped up in confusion and heartbreak were slowly transforming into something else.

It wasn’t just admiration anymore.

It was something deeper. Something you couldn’t quite put into words yet, but the more you spent time with him, the more it became undeniable.

One evening, after another quiet dinner together, you found yourself walking side by side with Riki. The streetlights cast long shadows on the pavement, and there was a soft cool breeze in the air. You were walking toward your house, the end of the evening coming too soon. But as you talked about nothing and everything at the same time, you realized something.

You had always thought the path to moving on from Jungwon would be a straight line. But in this winding, unpredictable road, you’d found something unexpected—someone unexpected.

Riki, with his sharp words, his unpredictable smiles, his occasional teasing, and the quiet way he listened to you. He had become something more than just a friend.

You felt it in the way your chest tightened whenever he was close, the way your heart raced when he made you laugh, or when his words cut through your thoughts, forcing you to think deeper than you ever had before. You felt it in the moments when he didn’t have to say anything at all—just when he was there, sharing the silence with you.

You weren’t sure when it happened, but you were beginning to like him. Truly like him.

The realization hit you one evening when you were sitting together in his room, the two of you on his bed after a long day. Riki had been talking about some random movie plot, and you had been half-listening, your mind too caught up in how your stomach fluttered every time he glanced your way. But then, when you caught yourself staring at him, you knew.

This wasn’t just friendship.

You like Riki.

Your heart stumbled in your chest, but it was a strange kind of feeling. You weren’t overwhelmed with fear, but with a sense of warmth, a sense of understanding. The hurt from before had dulled, but Riki had become something else—someone you were starting to care for in a way that was so much more than just a friend.

But the question now was: did he feel the same way?

You weren’t sure yet, but one thing was for certain. As much as you had learned to love yourself, the journey wasn’t over. There was still more to discover, not just about yourself, but about Riki, and where you both might go from here.

From the moment you realized your feelings for Riki, you decided you weren’t going to make the same mistake twice. You’d silently watched from the sidelines for far too long, letting your feelings simmer in secret, quietly aching from a distance. But not anymore. You weren’t going to hide your feelings, not when everything about him was making your heart race in ways you hadn’t expected. You wanted to show him—show him that you liked him, not just with words but with actions.

So, you started small, doing things that made you both laugh, but also things that made your intentions clear.

It happened one afternoon after school, as you were walking side by side with Riki. You were both casually chatting, laughing at something he said, when you suddenly felt the urge to do something bold.

Without thinking twice, you grabbed the opportunity. You walked a little ahead, turned around, and then, in one swift motion, you pushed him against the nearest wall. His eyes went wide in surprise, and you leaned in, making sure to trap him with your hands resting against the wall above his head.

The height difference between the two of you was obvious—Riki was a lot taller than you, and you couldn’t help but notice how funny it must have looked to anyone else. Still, it didn’t matter. You weren’t doing this for anyone else. You were doing this for you.

Riki blinked, completely caught off guard. He was speechless for a moment, clearly not expecting this. You looked at his shocked face and couldn’t help but smirk. His lips parted, and for a brief second, you thought he was going to say something, but instead, he just stared at you, flustered.

“Y/N…?” he started, clearly unsure of what to make of your actions.

You just grinned and shrugged, not moving an inch. His face was flushed, his usual calm demeanor completely shattered by your playful boldness. You didn’t break the silence, just keeping him locked in place, your eyes never leaving him.

Finally, after a few seconds of awkward stillness, Riki laughed nervously. “You really know how to get me, huh?”

You gave him a teasing grin. “You’ve got that right.”

Riki smirked, leaning slightly into the wall as he adjusted his posture. “You’re insane, but I don’t mind it.”

You pulled back with a light chuckle, satisfied with the reaction you got, and just like that, everything was back to normal, but with something else lingering in the air.

One day, as you two were walking home, you found the perfect moment to make your move. He was walking ahead, distracted by his phone, his head down, absorbed in the screen. You grinned to yourself and suddenly stepped in front of him, blocking his way. The way he looked up, surprised by your sudden interruption, made your heart flutter. But you weren’t backing down.

You pulled him by the wrist, guiding him across the street like he was the one who needed the help. He blinked at you, a mix of confusion and amusement in his eyes, but you just smiled back, pretending like you didn’t notice how his gaze softened at the touch. It felt right, the way his hand fit so easily into yours, the way he didn’t pull away.

Another time, you were in his room, and Riki had just woken up. His hair was all over the place, and he was rushing to get ready. You couldn’t help but smile at the sight of him looking so… human. So real. You couldn’t hold back. Without a word, you walked up to him, grabbed the collar of his shirt, and gently tugged him down so you could fix his messy bed hair.

His face turned red in an instant, his eyes wide as he looked at you with surprise. “What are you doing?” he stammered, but you just shrugged nonchalantly, pushing his hair out of his face with a grin.

“I couldn’t let you leave looking like this,” you teased, pulling your hands away and admiring the now slightly tamed hair.

He huffed, flustered, but you could see the little smile tugging at his lips, even if he was trying to hide it. That was the reaction you lived for—the way he got all bashful around you, even if he tried to act cool. It was clear he wasn’t used to being treated like this, but you enjoyed watching him slowly soften around you.

And then there was the time in the cafeteria. You couldn’t help yourself when you saw a little dab of whipped cream stuck at the edge of his lips. It was the perfect opportunity, so without thinking much about it, you leaned in, wiped it off with your finger, and then casually wiped it on your napkin. His eyes widened, his face turning red in an instant, and you could see the confusion battling with the surprise.

“Y/N!” he exclaimed, though there was a small smile playing on his lips.

“What? I had to save you from walking around with that on your face,” you said, grinning mischievously, trying to act nonchalant even though your heart was doing somersaults inside your chest.

You noticed the way he looked at you a little differently after that. Not in a bad way, but more like he was finally seeing you through a new lens. He couldn’t help but laugh it off, but there was always something a little extra in his gaze now—something warmer, something more open.

You kept pushing yourself to show him how much you cared, and with every little gesture—whether it was you pulling him aside to help him with his books, or you playfully calling him out when he was being too stubborn, you noticed the difference in the way he responded to you. He wasn’t as distant anymore. He didn’t pull away when you made physical contact. His smiles were more genuine, more frequent. And when you spoke, he listened. Really listened.

You couldn’t deny it anymore. You saw it. You saw the little glances he gave you when he thought you weren’t looking. You saw the way his hand would brush yours when you passed him something, and the brief moments where his gaze would linger on you a little longer than necessary. He was still as mischievous as ever, but now, there was something else in his eyes—a flicker of something more, something you hadn’t seen before.

You could tell that Riki liked you too. Slowly, you began to realize that your actions, your little touches, and your playful teasing were breaking down the walls between you. You had no idea where this would go, but you knew one thing for sure: you weren’t afraid anymore. And for the first time, you were able to look at him and see the possibility of something more.

It wasn’t about moving on anymore. It was about taking a step forward. And maybe, just maybe, that step forward was towards something you’d been blind to before. Something that felt so much more real than the quiet ache you had for Jungwon. Something that could possibly lead you to love again.

And this time, you weren’t going to let fear hold you back.

Three months had passed since you and Riki had started hanging out more, and the bond between you two had grown stronger. The playful teasing, the quiet moments, and the support Riki had given you as you learned to move on from Jungwon had all shaped something deeper. He was no longer just a friend helping you get over someone—it was starting to feel like he was someone you genuinely cared for in a way that went beyond the friendship you both shared.

But now, here you were, standing at the crossroads of uncertainty. You weren’t sure if Riki felt the same way, but the more time you spent with him, the more you couldn’t ignore the feelings growing inside of you.

You had learned to love yourself, but somewhere along the way, you had also learned to like Riki. Maybe it was the way he made you laugh, the way his eyes softened when you needed him, or maybe it was just the fact that he had been there for you through everything.

But, no matter how much you felt, the uncertainty still lingered. Did he feel the same way about you? Was he even capable of feeling that way about you? You couldn’t say for sure, but you knew that if you didn’t at least try, you’d regret it.

So, you made up your mind. You were going to confess.

The moment came on a quiet evening, when you two were hanging out in a nearby park, the sun dipping low on the horizon. It had become a routine—walking around, joking with each other, and just being together in a comfortable silence. You had never felt more at peace than in these moments with him.

But tonight was different. You could feel the weight of your thoughts pressing down on you, and you knew that if you didn’t say something now, you might never get the chance. You took a deep breath and stopped walking, turning to face him.

Riki, ever the teasing one, raised an eyebrow at you. “What’s up with you? You look like you’re about to say something dramatic.”

You smiled a little nervously, trying to steady your heart. “I guess… I guess I’ve been thinking about something for a while now.”

“Yeah?” he replied, his tone softening just a little. “What’s on your mind?”

You hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to word it. But then, you just decided to say it. You had come this far. “Riki, I… I like you. I really do. More than just a friend. And I know I’ve never said this before, but I wanted you to know.”

Riki blinked at you, his usual teasing expression replaced with something unreadable. For a split second, there was silence. You felt your heart race in your chest, wondering if you’d made a huge mistake. Maybe this was too much, maybe you were asking for too much.

But then, Riki let out a soft laugh, one that was more genuine than anything else. He stepped closer to you, looking down at you with a faint smile. “I was wondering when you’d figure it out.”

Your heart skipped a beat, but you stayed silent, unsure of how to react.

He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “Honestly, I’ve been waiting for you to say something. I’m… not great with feelings, but yeah, I like you too. Maybe more than I’ve let on.”

You blinked, surprised. The confession was out there now, and to your relief, it wasn’t a rejection. You couldn’t help but smile, a weight lifting off your chest. It wasn’t a dramatic confession, but it was real, and that was enough for you.

“Seriously?” you asked, almost disbelieving.

He nodded, his smile growing a little. “Yeah, seriously. You’re a bit of a pain sometimes, but you’re also… well, you. And that’s kind of what I like about you.”

You laughed softly, feeling the warmth spread through you. The answer you had been hoping for was finally there, and it felt like everything had fallen into place.

“Well,” you said, “I guess this means we’re officially more than just friends now, huh?”

Riki smirked. “Yeah, I guess it does. Took you long enough.”

You playfully shoved him, both of you laughing. But beneath the teasing, you couldn’t ignore the feeling of contentment that settled in your chest. No matter where things went from here, you were happy.

You were happy because Riki had been by your side, helping you through the tough times, supporting you even when you didn’t know what you needed. And now, you had him in a way that was more than just friendship.

And for that, you were grateful.

_

Three months after Riki had come into your life, things were different—better, even. From that moment on, things changed. You were no longer just friends with Riki or “the girl who helped him move on from Courtney.” You were something more. You and Riki still teased each other, still had your playful banter, but there was an undeniable understanding between you two. You weren’t just friends anymore; you were partners, navigating this thing called a relationship together.

Jungwon had already gotten what he wanted with Courtney, and you were happy for him. He was in a good place, and you had finally found your own happiness with Riki. It was a strange but satisfying sense of closure—your heart was no longer stuck in the past.

Despite all the playful teasing from your friends, including Jungwon and the others, they all secretly saw how well you and Riki suited each other. Your relationship wasn’t perfect, but it was yours, and that was enough.

And even though you both still bickered, and your friends still teased you about being a “childish couple,” one thing was clear to everyone—you and Riki were exactly what each other needed.

You smiled to yourself as you walked side by side with him, the world ahead of you and no more regrets to hold onto. Everything had fallen into place, and you were finally ready to embrace it all.

The two of you were walking down the street, the familiar banter filling the air between you. Riki was teasing you about something silly—probably your choice of snacks, or maybe how you’d taken an extra long time choosing a place to eat. Whatever it was, you were both back to your usual bickering, a playful tension between you two that had become so normal, it felt like second nature.

“You know,” Riki said, his voice smug, “you take forever deciding where we eat. You’re lucky I’m patient.”

You shot him an exaggerated glare. “Oh, really? I take forever? You spent ten minutes last week debating between two brands of chips, Riki. Don’t lecture me.”

He let out a mock gasp, holding a hand to his chest. “That’s different. I was making a very important decision about snacks. There’s a huge difference between chips!”

“Uh-huh,” you rolled your eyes. “Sure, whatever you say.”

The usual teasing flowed easily between you both, but the difference this time was that your hands never parted. You had been walking side by side, fingers loosely intertwined, the warmth of his hand a comforting reminder of everything that had changed. Even as you bickered, neither of you let go, even when you could feel the playful tension turning into something deeper—something that you couldn’t quite put into words.

“Don’t roll your eyes at me. You know I’m right,” he said, nudging you with his elbow.

“I’m just saying,” you replied, trying to pull your hand free, “I’m not the one who can’t decide on food.”

He smirked and tugged you closer, not letting your hand slip away. “You really think you can get away with that, huh?”

“Nope,” you grinned, shaking your head but not resisting. “Guess not.”

Even in the midst of the bickering, you both knew the truth. Neither of you wanted to let go. Not of each other, not of this feeling you shared. The world around you seemed to fade as you walked together, hands firmly clasped, as if no matter what silly argument you’d get into, you’d always find your way back to each other.

And in that moment, as the bickering continued but the laughter lingered, you realized how perfect it all was. You and Riki—still teasing, still pushing each other’s buttons—but always together.

In the end, you got what you wanted: you were no longer stuck in the past, you had moved on, and more importantly, you had someone by your side who truly cared about you. And that someone was Riki.

He's never at rest when he's with you. He sleeps when he can, but never lets his fatigue show in front of your mother and his fellow guards. He never lets his shoulders sag, he never lets his eyes get low as he follows behind you to wherever you're going. 

He finds it hard to remind himself that it's just a job when you softly christen him with the petname my heart.

He finds it hard to remind himself that it's just a job when you pull him into the library, and sit on the thickly carpeted floor. You always make him sit with his back to the wall, your dress brushing his thighs as your hands splayed gingerly across worn leather books and yellowed pages. He finds it hard to remind himself it's just a job, when you whisper that he can sleep, and you'll wake him if you hear your mother. He finds it hard to remind himself that you're just part of his job when he wakes up to your warm hand gently patting his cheek, finding he's fallen asleep and resting his head on your shoulder. You always smile warmly as he opens his eyes tiredly, your laugh is soft as you ask him if he's feeling well rested.

The answer is always no, but he never says it.

You're the kindest person he's ever had the pleasure of meeting. You're not soft spoken by any means – always assertive, always dominating the conversation when it comes to anything that has to do with your kingdom. You're flirty, even if you don't realize that your words mean more than meets the eye. You're generous, smart, beautiful…you're…everything.

You're everything to him.

And he knows better than to ever let that be a thought at the forefront of his mind, even when you give yourself to him so willingly. Even when your lips trace the slope of his neck, when your moans fill his ears and make him feel insane.

Even when you make him feel loved.

Amongst the positive attributes you have, you have a few bad habits in the eyes of your mother. The Queen has no problem with reprimanding you – her hand often carrying a wooden ruler that pats your chin gently when you speak out of turn, lightly tapping the small of your back if you're slouching. Just as the Queen is strict, she is gentle, she is fair.

The Queen was once bright. She wore the brightest, most colorful of dresses – pearlescent satins, shimmering tulles, beaded and sequined. She was the prettiest flower in the garden, the warmth of her smile being felt for miles throughout the kingdom. She was the sole collector of all the books in your library, the seamstress of all your dresses, the sole ruler because the kingdom was only ever truly hers – and soon, yours.

Of course, all good things come to an end. 

He grew up just outside of the kingdom, his family settled in a soft cottage in the thriving forest surrounding the castle. During his younger years, he awoke every morning to the sound of horses trotting past, the sound of your mother's skilled hunters chasing after deers and elk. He and his father would often go foraging, bringing home their own catches – rabbits, salmon speared at the flowing river. Every once in a while, they managed to pelt the unsuspecting deer, his heart always sinking in his chest as he watched their eyes lose their light.

He became a skilled hunter despite the sinking feeling, and easily manuevered his way through the forest on foot. His father made a bow and arrow set for him on his fifteenth birthday, and it'd been put to use for many years since – birds, squirrels, even the occasional frog.

His mother was an apothecary that managed a small shop and garden out of the back of their cottage. She sold the wild berries and any herbs Jay and his father managed to forage, and that was how he met your parents. Your father was incredibly ill, draped across a mighty steed that your mother steered to the best of her ability in her state of distress.

As it turned out, your mother had grown up with his – and trusted no one more than her to help your father. They stayed in his cottage, in his bedroom, for three days and three nights. 

After he recovered, your mother tried to pay a hefty sum of gold. His parents adamantly refused, and through the door of his bedroom he heard his mother ask that the Queen take care of him, should he ever need something. A job, education, something.

And your father agreed, without hesitation.

But there was still a heavy sack of gold sitting in the corner of his home when he woke up the next morning.

When he thinks about it, the King was an insane visual compared to your mother. He dressed in nothing but black, his shoulders covered by a thick bear's pelt and feet clad in heavy boots. His knuckles were almost always smeared with dirt and blood, and his voice was gruff and intimidating to the unfamiliar. He was scary to most of the townspeople with his dark eyes and solemn face, and they cowered in his presence – but he never, ever scared him.

Your father admired that.

The King became a frequent visitor at the shop Jay's mother ran. He bought berries almost exclusively, and usually the entire stockpile. Jay remembers his life being slightly easier during those times – and he felt it in the way his parents wouldn't hesitate to buy any book he picked up during their visits to the market on the weekends. He felt it most when he'd have warm soups to eat during the winter when berries and herbs were scarce.

However, the King once arrived on foot, guiding his horse by the lead and talking gently. Usually he'd be atop his horse, but instead – you were sat upon it. You wore a simple, champagne dress with ivory bows along the belled sleeves, and your hair was worn pinned back. You were smiling brightly, your eyes wide as you took in the greens of the forest and the spots of the sunlight on the forest floor, the chirps of the birds gathered in trees high above.

Your eyes landed on him, covered in dirt and carrying a deer on his back. He remembers the way his heart lurched – and he nearly fell under the weight of the cervid. And he remembers the laugh that slipped from your mouth as your father stopped in front of the shop. It was so beautiful, hidden behind your hand and so melodic.

"Jongseong! Good to see you, son. Is your mother in?"

He couldn't reply then, watching the way your lips shaped around your silent repetition of his name. He remembers blinking, clearing his throat.

"Your Majesty. My mother is at the market this weekend, I've been left to tend the shop. Is there something I can get for you?" He'd dropped the deer on the workbench with a grunt before turning around to tend to your father, only hearing your voice as you pulled at your father's pelt.

"He's cute."

He felt his cheeks grow hot, his eyes darting away as he stood behind the display of berries and pretended he didn't hear you. He remembers the way your father rolled his eyes, a smile gracing his features. He'd never seen your father smile.

"Go on, pick your poison." He'd helped you off the horse, your hands folding behind your back as you approached the display. Jay couldn't help but follow the glow of your dress in the spotty sunlight, before your father cleared his throat behind you.

"It's her birthday." He said warmly, and Jay remembers the way you rolled your eyes as you picked a blackberry from the display, rolling it between your fingers.

"It's not that special. He always makes it a big deal." Your gaze was playful, but your words were serious. "It's really just another day."

"Isn't every day we rise with the sun worth celebrating?" 

You stopped then, your teeth sinking into the delicate flesh of the berry in your hand as you glanced up at him. Your father laughed heartily behind you, before you tilted your head.

"Will you be coming to the feast tonight? My father has invited the whole of the kingdom." 

Your eyes were expectant, and he shifted slightly under your gaze. Your father had the same eyes, albeit darker.

"I can't make it, Your Highness. I've got prior committments." He had jerked his thumb in the direction of the deer, making you nod. "That's a shame…I'll take these, then." You sounded disappointed then, as you picked up the large crate of blackberries. Your father swept to your aid, grabbing the wooden crate quickly and firmly attaching it to the side of the horse's saddle. You smiled softly, "How much do I owe you?"

"Oh, don't worry about it. Have a safe trip back, have a nice birthday." He shook his head, giving you both a curt bow before turning on his heel and disappearing into the shop. He heard the horse trot off moments later, murmurs shared from you and your father too muffled to digest.

However, even as nightfall came and went – he couldn't get you out of his mind. The gentle slope of your neck, the shimmer of thin beeswax on your lips. A small, gold locket resting on your chest over your dress, with the crest of the kingdom engraved into it. 

The softness of your eyes. You returned the next day, this time, only accompanied by your horse. You donned a dark green dress with gold flecks across the fabric, your hair in disarray around your face as you slowed to a stop in front of the shop. He was drenched in sweat, the midday heat exhausting as he lugged firewood towards the cottage. His mother had just arrived for lunch, wrapping an apron around her waist as you rung the bell in the window.

"Princess! What brings you to this neck of the woods?" 

His back tensed as he packed the wood in the corner of the kitchen, only to hear his name slip from your lips.

"I've just brought something for…Jongseong." He still remembers his mother's face of surprise when she called for him, his cheeks flushed from the heat (or so he tried to convince himself) as he made his way over. "Yes?" "The princess is here for you, son."

She slipped away then, leaving you in his presence alone. He tilted his head, before realizing you had a box in your hand, wrapped in a soft green bow. You held it out to him, a smile gracing your lips. 

"For you. I made it." He took it gingerly, "Thank you."

You only nodded, stepping away from the shop. "Enjoy."

He didn't explain anything to his parents as he slid the small box on the kitchen table, their eyes curious as he unwrapped it to the sound of your horse bolting in the distance. It was a tart – lemon curd with blackberry preserve swirled throughout in a shortbread crust. There was a note attached to the side of the box, but he shoved it in his pocket to read in the privacy of his room later that night.

My father seems to like you. He doesn't like anyone. Should I expect you at the suitors' ball this winter? – Y/N ♡ 

He didn't see you again after that, the seasons moving forth as if he'd never met you. 

The suitors' ball would not happen, either.

He was soon awoken by royal knights banging his door down – on orders from the Queen to gather all able-bodied young men to fight in an ambush in the wooded mountains, brought forth by Fort Allingham claiming a broken alliance with the King. Despite his mother's protests, he went – wide eyed and scared, but he trusted himself. He trusted his knowledge of the woods and his skills as a hunter would get him through it.

They say even the mighty fall.

He felt dirty; covered in splatters of blood of men he'd never met. Men who had families, surely, and it haunted him. He wanted to close his eyes and end the nightmare of it all – fallen bodies, the crimson brew of life seeping through clothes and into patches of grass sprouting through the thick layers of snow atop the mountains, the feeling of the arrow's pile that speared through his shoulder. He wanted to hide, to cower, to unsee all he'd lived the moment he left the cottage. The worst of it all?

He was the one to find your father – bloodied and bruised at the base of the mountains, his sword tossed into the flowing river and his fingers nearly purple with frostbite. The remaining soldiers gathered with him, word spreading to those from Fort Allingham that the target had been hit. It made his stomach turn.

He tried what he could – the warmth of a fire, muddling medicinal herbs into a paste…but he slipped away by morning. He could only picture you and your mother's faces as he and the remaining soldiers walked for three days to return to the limits of the kingdom. He held nothing on his back but your father's pelt, the bloodied sword and his bow. He carried it like it held all the weight in the world to him, because he knew it would to you.

He remembers the crestfallen look on your mother's face as he and the soldiers hobbled into the throne room. They all knelt before her, the pain in his face evident as he tried to hold the bloodied sword over his head.

That was the last time he saw your mother wear something bright. A cream dress that glittered in the early winter sunlight, a singular tear stain on the skirt.

The soldiers had their injuries treated by town apothecaries and fed by the palace cooks while the townspeople were in mourning. The death of the King took a toll on them all – and a flourish of stories of his kindness spilled from every crevice of the kingdom. Your father was well loved and your mother proved it – a three-day feast was thrown in his honor, all of his favorite dishes displayed across the palace courtyard. Nights of loud music, drinking and dancing.

Nights that you spent away from it all, deep in the forest. Wading in the river, your hands blistered from climbing the rocks that lined the streams. Your face swollen from crying, your back covered in the thick pelt that once belonged to your father.

It was all you had left. Your mother asked him to work for the kingdom soon after. She practically begged, in fact – and Jay went home to think about it. He spent the rest of the winter there – coping with the loss, with the fear, with his pain. He took the time to relearn to use his bow with his injured shoulder, he shoveled snow from the pathway to the cottage. He spent his nights in the warmth of his room, reading and reading the books he'd collected, and sitting on the decision of whether or not to go forth to the palace.

Until the winter solstice brought the Queen barreling back to his cottage, seeking his mother and her medicine once more. This time, for you – your skin was sweltering even as you were stripped to nothing in a warm bath, your lips chapped from the dry winter air. His room was once more taken, with your mother glued to his windowsill and staring at the falling snow. The sound of your pained groans made his chest hurt as he pressed cool compresses to your face and neck through the night – waking up to your mother gone and a sore neck from sleeping in a cot.

You stayed for two days longer, his mother carefully and quietly tending to you. She fed you warm soups with lots of garlic and ginger, hot feverfew tea with honey and lemon, even drawing you hot baths to soak in. She had Jay rub analgesic oil into your scalp after your baths, and the repeated stroking would ease you to sleep.

It was on the third day that your mother returned, her hands gripping a dark blue dress in hopes you'd be feeling better. You were still stricken with fatigue, but you managed to make your way out of the cottage with a weakened thank you. Your mother once more asked Jay about coming to work for her at the palace as she helped you climb onto the horse, your cloak just thick enough that the winter air didn't make you shiver too much.

And, he agreed. Without hesitation, without much thought – he told your mother he'd report to the palace in one week.

Dinner with his parents was very quiet that night, with only a murmured apology from him as he cleared the table. His mother insisted he had to do what he felt was right, that his duty was to his heart.

But where has his heart led him? It's gotten him an injured shoulder. It's shown him death, up close and personal. It's shown him how deeply a person can mourn, how thoroughly the end of life can rip someone to shreds.

Nevertheless, he packed his clothes and his favorite books, and he went. He was stationed in the room next to yours, the constant warmth and hearty food a luxury he yearned for his parents to experience. He didn't check in with you, instead finding your mother in her study – in a long, black dress.

He then learned that you were his assignment. 

"The loss of her father has left Y/N incredibly fragile." The Queen started, her pen gripped tightly in her trembling hand. "She's not the same, which was to be expected. She feels it's her fault."

The Queen went on to explain why – you'd told your parents that you weren't one with the idea of an arranged marriage.

Your father had been the first born son of the King of Fort Allingham – and it was only by chance that the Queen had fallen in love with him. They'd met at the suitors' ball many some years ago when it was your mother's turn to inherit the throne – and had become immediately enamored. It worked well in your grandparents' favor, as they had long been in bad standings with the opposing kingdom over unclaimed land.

The marriage between your parents meant a truce, that said unclaimed land would remain untouched.

Desrosiers, named aptly after the rose gardens that spread vast and wide across their land – was another kingdom just south of Decelis that also had ties to the same plot of unclaimed land. The truce there?

You'd marry their first born son. It'd been set in stone by your grandparents, and was something your parents had been looking for a way out of since before you'd even known about it. 

However, the marriage between your parents was untraditional – the Decelis throne belonged to your mother, and as the only heir, there wasn't any way she'd give it up. Your father moving across kingdom lines raised some concerns, but at the end of the day – it was marriage, and it meant peace.

Your father's youngest brother became the King of Fort Allingham shortly after your father's departure. However, he was never fond of the fact that your father left. Something about betrayal, something about treason – but over all, your father had something that he wanted.

Your mother's love.

He, too, had been at the suitors' ball that winter so many years ago. He too, yearned to dance with your mother in the low light of the ballroom, to earn her affections, to be hers.

They say greed is the root of all evil – if he couldn't have your mother, no one could. He didn't care about the land, it was truly only a bonus.

It had been discovered a few weeks after your father's death that he, too, had been killed in the ambush. By none other than the first born son of Desrosiers – and with no heir to the throne of Fort Allingham, the Queen of Fort Allingham took over and cut ties with both kingdoms. The land was up for grabs, and your mother traveled to Desrosiers when you were sick to settle things. 

The Prince of Desrosiers had no interest in marriage, and willingly gave up the idea of a truce with your kingdom if it meant he got the land. No devil in the details, no exceptions, no ifs, ands or buts.

"She told me that she feels that though she may have won the battle…" The Queen hesitated, clearing her throat as tears filled her eyes. She blinked them back, tonguing her cheek. "We've lost the war." Jay finished for her, and she nodded. "It's not her fault. She has to know that, deep down somewhere."

"I don't know anymore. I know it's a lot to ask, too. She needs to be waited on hand and foot, and I can't lose my composure. I have a kingdom to run." The Queen had gestured to the air around her, making him nod in understanding.

"All I ask is that you…nuture her. Keep her company, get her outside. Show her that love still exists, even if the world seems bleak. It's not her fault. It never will be."

"I will try my best, Your Majesty." And, that led him to this point. By your side, at all hours of the day. 

It'd been two years since then, and you'd seemingly progressed – you drifted through the gardens, you settled on the carpet in the massive library. You visited his parents with him, and they treated you like their own. He taught you how to hunt and forage, and often caught you lingering at the end of the riverbend. Your feet in the water, your hands clutching your dress high so as to not get it wet. You closed your eyes, taking in the soft song of the birds flying through the trees and the chitter of the squirrels.

And he couldn't hear you cry yourself to sleep through the door anymore.

Instead, he was subjected to your soft looks and subtle comments. You'd sweep his hair out of his eyes, you'd adjust the hood of his cloak. You'd lean into him a little too deeply when he helped you fix your posture while shooting arrows. You'd bake him things, read him things, even ask him to sit outside with you deep in the night to stare at the stars. You'd point out the brightest one, and say it was your dad.

He hated the way his heart warmed up to you. You'd always been something interesting – from the very moment he met you that fated day at the shop. He wondered, still, if you would have chosen him if the suitors' ball had happened, and if your father would've given him his blessing.

He wonders if you feel the same things he does when he bids you goodnight – the yearn to kiss your lips softly, to lay next to you and hold you close. To breathe you in, become one with your soul and feel the fire of a million bursting suns.

He wondered then if you wanted him, too.

He wouldn't have to wonder for long.

"PRINCESS, IT'S LATE. YOU SHOULD BE SLEEPING."

Jay's voice was stern as you tugged him out of bed, still awake as the clock struck two in the morning. The moonlight was seeping through his open window, and you only pouted as you stomped your foot. He sighs, setting his book down on the nightstand to give you his full attention.

"First of all, I told you to stop calling me that. I'm Y/N to you. Or, baby." You climb onto the end of his bed with a wink, and Jay only groans, falling back against his pillow and grabbing the other to hold over his face. "Second of all, come on! I haven't seen you all day!" Jay gives another grunt into the pillow as you jump up and down the empty side of the bed, before throwing it back. "Because I went to go see my parents, and you didn't wanna come!"

You stop jumping, a sly smirk sliding onto your lips as he sits up abruptly.

"Don't you dare. Someone could hear you." He points a menacing finger at you, but you only laugh as you sink onto the soft bed. "Y/N." "Ooh, I like it when you say my name like that. So scary." You're teasing him, knowing it'll get him to do whatever it is you want without a fight as long as it means you'll get the hell out and shut the fuck up. Granted, he always wants to do what you ask of him, he just likes the little game of cat and mouse.

"What do you want? Quickly, I'm tired." He runs his hand over his face, before carding his fingers through his hair and pushing it off his face. He doesn't like the way you nibble on your lip before you look over at the door, his cheeks growing hot as you scamper off his bed to lock the iron knob. He raises a brow, attempting to appear nonchalant as you also close his window.

"It gets hot in here, why would you do that?" He feigns interest in your actions as you walk back over, rolling your eyes as you climb back onto his bed. You push the covers down, sliding in next to him. He instinctively moves over, the sheets cold beneath him as you snuggle into the warmth he's left behind.

"Spies." You shrug, fighting a smile as you lay your head on his pillow. He tongues his cheek as your hand traces shapes into his arm, before inching closer to rest your chin on it. You peer at him with the most charming look known to man, and he feels his resolve breaking.

"Y/N." "Jongseong." He sighs, before extending his arm out. You smile giddily as you snuggle into his side, your fingers ghosting over his bare chest. He wraps his own around your shoulders, gently poking your ribcage and getting a squeal out of you.

"You're horrible for my health, you know?" He murmurs, before feeling you smile against his skin. "I missed you, Jjongie." You admit, your fingernails drawing featherlight patterns into his stomach. He allows it, but you know his senses are on high alert should your mother make a surprise nightly round and not find you in your bedroom.

"I missed you, baby. But you know we can't keep doing this." He laments, feeling his heart sink as he feels you pout, your breath warm against his chest before you nod. 

"Is it love at all, if in the dark?" You ask, before looking up at him. 

He nods slowly, "I think so. I don't think I'd ever want to exist in a world where you're not all I am."

He swipes your hair back, before softly pinching your cheek between his knuckles. You scowl, shoving it away with your own hand, but he interlaces your fingers. He brings your knuckles to his lips, pressing a soft kiss on the warm skin before holding your hand to his chest. "Don't do that." You mumble, your eyes softened as you pull your hand away reluctantly. He knows what you mean – don't kiss you. Don't kiss you if he's not going to kiss you everywhere, if he's not going to remind you that there will never be someone who loves you as he does. Even if hidden, even if both of you are so full of adrenaline any time you're under the covers together, you know it – the love Jay holds in his heart is uninhibited, it's unmatched, it's irrevocable.

And it's all yours, all for you.

"Mmh." He presses another to your forehead, your eyelids, your cheeks.

"Jay. Stop." You huff, your skin growing hot under his lips as he plants a kiss on your nose. "But I've missed you." He whispers against your lips, "I've missed my pretty girl."

"Jay." You pull back, only for him to trail his lips down your neck softly. "This is not what I was looking to do tonight." "Are you complaining?" He nips at your clavicle, and you laugh softly as you shake your head. "No." You move back, your nose bumping his as he meets your eyes. "I love you." "I love you." He mumbles back, before you press your lips to his chastely. Once, twice, three times. "What did you do today?" "Mmh, wonderful question from thee Park Jongseong." You cradle his face in your palm, absently stroking his cheek with your thumb. "I had lunch in the gardens with my mother. The Queen expects much of my attention, you see. I'm a very busy woman." He snorts, "So busy." You grin, "Incredibly. I wasted away today, however, because the love of me wasn't here. I spent my hours locked away in the library like a princess held captive, reading books of lovers who never abandon their soulmate–" "You are so dramatic." He buries his face in your neck, sinking his teeth into the muscle of your shoulder as you yelp. "Be quiet, someone could hear you." "As if you're not sinking your teeth into me like I'm some piece of meat." You scoff, pushing his head away to reveal blushing cheeks. "And I'm not dramatic, you abandoned me." "I 'abandoned' you on my given day off, and I invited you! You wanted to lounge in bed all day." He protests as you tug at strands of his jet black hair, "You just want me when it's beneficial, I know you." "Not true, I want you all the time." You snort, before swinging your leg over his hip and pull him closer. You press a kiss to his lips, "I need you all the time." "Need me, huh?" "Now who's being dirty?" He only laughs, his hand sliding high on your thigh as he pulls you impossibly closer. He slots his lips with yours, feeling you melt into his touch carefully. He can taste mint and chamomile on your tongue as you slip it into his mouth, a soft whine from your throat as sucks on it gently. "I missed you." He breathes against your lips as he moves to hover over you, but you don't get a chance to respond as he settles himself between your thighs, your dress riding high on your hips as your lips meld with his. It's slightly desperate, like he hadn't kissed you in years – but still so full of love, of adoration, of yearning.

Your fingers tangle in his hair, earning a groan from his lips as he pulls your hands away from him, pinning them above your head with one of his own. He kisses down your jaw chastely, before his teeth tug at your earlobe.

"Behave." "Do the tongue thing." You pant out, feeling his teeth graze the skin of your neck again as he laughs. "Please, please–" "You don't have to beg." He soothes, his free hand moving to the underside of your thigh. You lamely clench around nothing as he keeps kissing your neck, down your chest before you feel his teeth pull at the buttons of your nightgown. "Jay." "So impatient, princess." You huff, opening your mouth to argue when his cool fingers ghost over your bare slit. A squeak leaves your throat, making him laugh as you try and buck your hips into his hand. He pulls it away, tugging at the fabric of your nightgown.

"Wanna see you, pretty. Can we take this off?"

You nod eagerly, sitting up quickly to pull it over your head. He shoves his pants down his legs, and tosses both items to the other side of the bed before pushing you onto your back, pressing a kiss to your lips. You jerk slightly as you feel the weight of his cock against your hip, your mouth watering slightly at the idea of it stretching you out.

It hadn't, yet. Ever, actually.

"I love you." "I love you, Jjongie."

He smiles, your cheeks growing hot as you feel his lips trail further. His hands are soft against your skin, gently rubbing your hips and sides. He trails up your breast, his tongue darting out from between his lips to flick against your nipple. Your hand immediately flies to his hair, tangling in the dark locks as he does it again.

"Feel good?" You can't respond, feeling almost embarrassed at how worked up you've gotten over almost nothing but kissing.

But it's not just kissing, is it?

It's missing him, wanting him. Hating the feeling of knowing this could be a secret for the rest of your life. You know he knows that's where your mind goes as he continues, because he thinks the same thing. It always floats back to you when you're bare in front of each other, baring more than just your bodies. Your hearts, souls. Everything you yearn to hold in your hands, and know you do – but only behind closed doors.

He's on the other side now, the slight scrape of his teeth on your pebbled nipple pulling you back to the moment and drawing a breathy sigh from your throat. Your free hand covers your mouth, before feeling him suck the sensitive bud between his lips. He rolls his tongue against it, earning shaky, bitten-back breaths and your grip tightening in his hair.

"J-Jay–" "Mmh?" 

He trails down your body, peppering kisses on your soft belly with carefully timed nips of his teeth.

"So beautiful, my love."

He murmurs against your hip before he presses a chaste kiss to it. He always did it, for whatever reason, before his hands splayed on the underside of your thighs and pushed them up. You feel his lips trail the inside of your thigh, feeling his teeth sink into the plush flesh and ripping a moan from your throat. He laps his tongue against the marks of his teeth, before he really pushes your thighs up and away – and you feel a bit of shyness settle in your belly as he sighs.

"Fuck, baby." He leans in, making you jolt as his nose bumps your clit. He wraps his arms around your thighs, inhaling deeply before flattening his tongue against your pussy. You bite back your groan, your eyes rolling back as he laps at your wet cunt like he can't get enough. He's savoring you, and you feel your breath get caught in your throat as he wraps his lips around your clit and sucks. He lets you rock your hips into his face, his own slowly humping against the mattress at the sheer taste of you. Your pants of yes, yes, oh my God bounce off his ears before he slides his hand down, tracing your hole with a finger. He draws gentle circles into your clit with his tongue as he eases it inside you, and you feel embarrassed at the wet sound that you hear as he carefully works in another.

This is the fullest you'd ever been, your pussy clenching around his fingers as he makes a mess of you on his tongue. He curls them slightly, your thighs threatening to close around his head as you feel your belly fill with warmth. Your moans are slightly breathier as he pushes his fingers in and out of you, your vision spotty as he curls them perfectly into that spongy spot inside you. 

"Jjongie." You whine loudly, your free hand moving to your chest. Your fingers trace over your nipple, still slick with his spit; your body writhing against his tongue and fingers with the added sensation. He hums into you, and you feel your body tense against his face, a choked whimper sliding out of you as your orgasm washes over you. 

You feel his fingers slip out of you, the wetness being smeared on your thigh as he buries his tongue inside your sloppy hole. You can feel him moan into you, your senses in overdrive as he cleans you up, his lips placing a teasing kiss on your thigh before hovering over you. He presses a soft kiss to your mouth, your hand moving to the base of his neck to keep him in place as you slide your tongue into his mouth. You both groan as the taste of yourself fills your mouth, tart and heady in the back of your throat as you feel him press against your thigh unconsciously.

"Baby…want you." "You have me, sweetheart." You shake your head, your hand snaking between the two of you to touch him. His eyes flutter shut as your hand wraps around his cock, the tip dribbling with a bit of precum that you spread with your thumb. He lets out a shaky breath, rocking his hips into your hand when he hears you speak again.

"Want you inside me. Wanna feel you." You mumble against him, squeezing your hand around his tip. He groans, bucking into the sensation involuntarily.

The idea of going all the way had been on the tips of your tongues for months, since you started this, really. It was a flame neither of you dared to touch, but the desire for it only grew the more either of you denied it. You resorted to kissing, touching…his tongue between your thighs any time you had a handful of minutes. You only got to return the favor with your mouth if your mother was out of the palace the next day – which, unfortunately for the two of you, wasn't very often.

"You know why we can't." "I don't care, I want you."

Your eyes are wide and wet as you work him in your hand, feeling him shudder above you as you brush your lips against his cheek.

"Please. Please, my heart."

He sighs shakily, his eyes squeezing shut as you slow the pace of your hand.

"You'll tell me if I'm hurting you, right?" His forehead is rested on your shoulder, pushing your hand away from him. You nod quickly as he physically wipes your hand against the sheets before folding his fingers into it, and sighing. "And this doesn't…change anything, right? You still…" He trails off, and you press a kiss to his shoulder. "I love you, no matter what happens."

He nods against your skin, "Okay."

He steadies himself above you, letting go of your hand to spread your thighs gently. He breathes out, one of his hands moving to align the tip of his cock with your entrance, but you're still so wet from the first round that he slides between the folds. His tip kisses your clit, making your stomach cave in in a breath. Your hand claws at the sheets, gripping them tightly as he mumbles a dazed apology.

His brows are furrowed slightly as he does it again, watching the way you shudder at the feeling. He files it to the back of his mind, before lining himself up carefully. "Are you sure? We can stop any time. We can stop right now." He licks his lips nervously, but you shake your head. "Please, I'm ready. I want you, all of you."

He pushes forward carefully, his eyes fixed on your face. You smile softly at him, your hand reaching for his. He takes it gently, interlacing your fingers as he sinks in deeper. Your nose scrunches slightly, and he stops. You swallow slightly, squeezing his hand with a nod of your head. He moves a bit more, a soft whimper from your throat making him stop again when you shake your head, squeezing his hand again to signal that you're okay.

He sinks into you the rest of the way, trying not to close his eyes at the warmth of your gummy walls surrounding him. You let out a breath through your mouth, his hand on your thigh moving to trace circles into your clit. The way you clench around him nearly makes him fall forward, but the scrunch in your brows starts to dissipate the more he does it; before you move his hand, away. "Move, Jjongie." You whisper, before feeling him move to hover over you once more. His lips brush against yours gently, your hands cradling his face to kiss him. He uses the moment to pull out slightly, before pushing back in. You grimace, feeling his hand slide to your hip, squeezing as he kisses you again. He moves, trying to hold a groan back as you squeeze around his cock.

"Jay…" Your voice is breathy against his lips, and he sighs shakily before thrusting into you again carefully. You moan in his ear, feeling his head fall against your shoulder as your hands move to his back. You feel him mutter soft curses into your skin, whimpers filling your ears.

"I love you." You whisper as he peppers kisses along your skin, feeling your eyes water as you hear him say those precious words back. "I love you, my heart."

He feels so good, filling you to the brim with shallow thrusts that are somehow angeled perfectly to hit that spot inside you. Your legs wrap around his hips as a tear slides down your face, locking your ankles as the sound of your pussy swallowing him fills the room.

When you feel a wet drop on your neck, a muffled fuck in your ear as he thrusts particularly hard, knocking the wind out of you.

"Shit, I'm s–"

You silence him with your lips smashing into his, the feeling of his cock dragging against your walls so overwhelming that you feel dizzy. His movements grow slightly sloppy as your pussy flutters around him – the same familiar feeling in your lower belly growing as your nails dig into his back as he pulls away from your face and buries his nose in your neck. "Say you're mine." His voice is breathy, making you shiver as you nod eagerly, your voice nothing but a whine as you mouth at the small scar on his shoulder.

"Yours. Only yours."  Your thighs tighten around his hips as you cum around him, a groan from his throat filling your ears as he spills inside you. He kisses the side of your neck tiredly, the shallow thrusting of his hips slowing to a stop as he carefully pushes off you.

Your pants fill the room, eyes fluttering closed as his hands knead the soft flesh of your thighs.  "Are you okay?" He murmurs, hands moving to squeeze at your hips and sides. You nod lazily, humming in his direction as if asking the same. He nods in response, planting a soft kiss to your lips before carefully pulling out. You wince at the sudden emptiness, running a hand through your hair as you look to see he's slipped off the bed, rustling around his dresser. He returns with a towel, pressing a kiss to your knee before gently wiping you clean.

"You are absolutely terrible for my health, princess." He mutters, earning a scoff from you as you nudge his hip with your foot. He snickers, giving your side a soft pinch and making you squeal before swatting his hand away. "You love me, Park Jongseong." You retort as he smiles, tossing the dirty towel to the hamper. He nods, nuzzling his nose against yours as you pout. "Tell me you love me." "I do love you, angel. You know that." He gives you a pointed look as he lays next to you, before kissing your lips softly. "I will love you, until the end of my days. Don't pretend like you don't know I'd give my life for you." You huff as he pulls the blanket over you, his han on your back pulling you close. You allow it, swinging your leg over his hip and resting your head on his bicep. He presses a kiss to your hairline, your own lips peppering over his collarbone.

"What happens tomorrow?"

Your voice breaks the silence, and he sighs. He knows tomorrow starts a long week of festivities, ended by a Saturday morning gathering of the entire kingdom – for you to step up to the throne as Queen. Your mother had made it clear that the death of your father would not push back your growth within the kingdom, and you'd be taking over come Saturday morning. You'd be sat in your best dress, your hair swept back and donning your heaviest jewels. You'd be sat in front of the entire kingdom, presented with your mother's crown and her staff.

You'd be Queen, and he'd be left to yearn behind the scenes.

"I don't know, my love." "I won't marry if it's not you, you know." "I won't either. You know that."

He looks down at you, your eyes wide as you scan his face. He feels his cheeks warm as he cradles your face gently, your hand moving to his wrist.

And just for this moment, you're not the Princess of Decelis. You're not the princess of anything, you're nothing but his. His to hold, to cherish, to love. His to kiss and worship, to kneel before and ask forgiveness for his sins. The queen of his heart.

"I love you, Jongseong." "I love you, Y/N."

IT'S THURSDAY EVENING, AND IT'S THE FIRST TIME HE'S GOTTEN A MOMENT TO HIMSELF SINCE THE START OF YOUR FESTIVITIES.

He's sitting at his windowsill, resting his cheek on the heel of his palm. A glass of wine sits untouched next to him as he stares at the stars. They're dim, but they're there – freckling the sky and accompanying the moon, the beauty of it reminding him of you. The kingdom is quiet aside from the trotting of a few horses on the cobblestone, the laughter of teenagers echoing through the town as they sneak pints of mead and bottles of wine from the back of the local brewery.

He hasn't been able to speak to you much since that night in his bedroom, and he feels his stomach turn every time you make a moment to talk to him – only to be pulled away. By a childhood friend wanting to dance, or a man thinking he has a chance to win your heart – he always lets you go, seeing the bit of anger flare in the back of your eyes as you slip away. He misses you, and you're only ever two or three inches away. He walks alongside you, his hands folded behind his back as yours rest in front of you. With every move of your arms, the collar of your dress reveals the dotted bruising of his teeth against your shoulder – to the point that he adjusts your hair over it several times.  No one thinks anything more of it. Just a devoted guard that cares for the safety and image of the Princess of Decelis. 

He misses when you were just his heart. The reason behind the wild thundering of it in his ribcage, the sole reason he breathes and lives. He hates the way your gold locket burns under his clothes, hidden under the collars of his shirts since you clipped it on him on Sunday morning with a silent kiss to his lips.

Now?

You're moving throught the gardens below with your mother, he spots you a few feet into the rose bushes. The moonlight illuminates the satin of your baby blue dress, the glitter catching his eyes as you stop suddenly. You turn around, your eyes dancing around before you look up, meeting his. Yours widen, lips parting before your mother speaks and you close it.

"Don't look at me that way, Y/N. It worries me." His brows jump, and he sees the way your eyes fill with guilt before you look away from him. "Everything worries you, Mother." You respond, your hands clutching the fabric of your dress as the Queen comes into view. Her dress is a deep sea blue, the belled sleeves gathered around her hands as she folds them in front of her. "Y/N, I run a kingdom and make thousands of decisions in just one day. Now, I've got an daughter that picks at her food in front of guests, of course I worry. What has gotten into you? Please tell me now, lest I pull it out of you."

Your mother's voice is quite soothing to him, and he feels a rift in the air as he hears the heels of your shoes click on the cobblestone.

"Mother, I…I don't want you to be upset." "Darling, please. Spit it out before I get collywobbles."

Your face crumples slightly, and he sits up quickly when he sees you cover your face with your hands. Your mother quickly pulls you into her embrace, her hands smoothing over your hair as you cry into her chest. She shushes you as one does a baby.

"I could never be upset with you, Y/N. You're everything to me, you have to know that." She rubs her hand over the back of your head, carefully tucking your hair behind your ears. "Everything I do, I do for you. The kingdom, the feasts, everything is for you, Y/N. As long as you're happy, I'll never have any reservations." Your head lifts, and the moonlight shines on the sheen of tears down your cheeks.

"What happens when I become Queen? Will I have to marry someone of your choosing?" 

Your mother looks taken aback, before shaking her head. Her hand carefully adjusts the bejeweled tiara on your head, before tucking her hands behind her back.

"I married for love." She says softly, but it's still heard in the still of night. She turns, walking carefully down the pathway to one of the stone benches. "I married for love, and mighty me, did I love." The Queen sits on the edge of it, looking up at you making your way in front of her. She smiles softly, and he sees so much of you in her. "This is about Jongseong." He feels his heart stop, the sound of his name from your mother's lips so foreign. She awarded him curt nods, gentle smiles since his station at the palace, but nothing more. 

He looks to you, seeing the tiara in your hand and you picking at the silver framework. "It wasn't on purpose." "Yes, it was."

His brows furrow at the admission, only to see you mirroring his expression. 

"What?" The Queen shrugs, a small smile gracing her features as she plucks one of the roses off the bush next to her.

"Your betrothal wasn't a thought that crossed my mind until your father came to bed after your celebration feast." She picks at a petal, letting it float to the ground beneath her feet. "I'd long run my options into the ground, I was trying to pull any and every string to get you out of the alliance marriage with Desrosiers. It was eating me alive."

You knelt before her, eyes riddled with curiosity as he leaned further out the window.

"He said you thought Jongseong was cute. That you were in the kitchen with the chef, and making him a pastry with the berries you bought that day. I remember I went to check your bedroom when he said that, and you weren't there. I asked one of the maids to find you, but she told me you were busy making a lemon curd." She nods, a fond smile gracing her lips as she picks another petal off the bud.

"And then, you wore your favorite dress the next day when you left the stables. I saw you from my bedroom, and you had the giddiest smile on your face." She laughs, her fingers gently spreading the unbloomed bud to reveal the anthers. "Your father smiled the same way, you know, when we met on the night of my suitors' ball. We snuck out to this very garden, sat on this bench and looked at the stars."

"I catch the two of you out of the corner of my eye quite often. When you're visiting his parents in the forest, and he helps you onto your horse. When you're in the library, reading all the books he recommends and he falls asleep on your shoulder. When he's teaching you things that he loves, and you listen instead of scrunching your nose and turning away. That's…that's something I could never arrange, ally, or even enchant. You don't find that anywhere, not like this." 

He hears a soft sniffle, before seeing her slide the rose over your ear.

"He's done just as I've asked of him. In a world so bleak, where the devil is in the details…he's shown you love." Her hands cup your face gently, "You…are everything to me. You're the apple of my eye, and I know I could never, ever take something so pure away from you. The crown, the throne, the kingdom…it's all yours. Yours for the taking, the ruling, all of it. And it's something you've never had to earn, even if you've worked hard for it." The Queen stands, pulling you to your feet and into her arms.

"You don't just get love. You earn it. You earn every caress, every kiss, every moment of companionship. That boy…you've won him over so dearly. He's kind, and gentle. He's responsible and I know he'd love you until the end of your days." 

She pulls away, cradling your face in her hands with a stern look settled in her brows.

"Don't you dare break his heart, Y/N."

"I would never." You smile mischievously, your hands circled her wrists as he presses a kiss to your forehead.

"Is this what you've had your stomach in knots about? Jongseong?" Your mother trills her lips, pinching your cheeks. "Go on, off to bed you go. You've got quite the rehearsal tomorrow."

"Yes, Mother. And…" You glance over her shoulder, your eyes pinning him in place as his cheeks burn in embarrassment. "Thank you." "I'd bring the stars down if you asked, my darling. Now, scram. I've got many things to do before tomorrow's festivities." She wiggles her finger at you as you clutch your dress in your hands, your tiara grasped in one of them as you nod. You turn on your heel, the click of them against the cobblestone getting louder as you made your way back to the castle.

He watches fondly as the fabrics flow behind you, his chest warm as you disappear into the north tower entrance. He goes to move from the windowsill, but something stops him as he sees the Queen's shoulders sag. She sits down once more, a sigh from her lips as she takes the heavy golden crown atop her head and thumbs at the large gems. She sets it down in her lap, her hands reaching around her neck and a locket similar to yours appears in her palm. She opens it, her finger tracing the photo inside it with sigh. She holds it to her chest, a deep breath slipping through her lips.

"Oh, my heart. How I miss you, so." She sniffled, before inhaling shakily and closing the locket. He hears the door of his room open, but he doesn't turn around as he feels your arms snake over his shoulders. His hand reaches for yours, interlacing your fingers as your lips brush his cheek.

"She's so…sad." He murmurs, feeling your thumb trace soft circles into his skin. He can feel your lips open to say something, when your mother speaks again.

She looks up to the sky, the brightest star shining to the left of the moon.

"I know you're looking down, my heart. Do you think they'll marry? She'll miss you there." She stands, holding her crown in her hand before taking a deep breath and placing it atop her head once more. "But, I'll see you there. I know it." She clasps the locket around her neck once more, tucking it beneath the collar of her dress before another sigh comes out.

"Goodnight, my heart. I love you dearly." The Queen folds her hands in front of her, her head bowed as she quietly made her way through the garden. He sighs, before turning to you. Your brows are furrowed as you stare into the night, the cogs in your head turning before you pull him away from the window. He allows it, following you down the hall with his hand interlaced with yours.

"Come, we've got work to do before my coronation."

THE DAWN OF SATURDAY WAS BROUGHT FORTH WITH SERENE SILENCE.

He was taking a deep breath in front of your mother's bedroom, having reluctantly left the safety of your arms. He held the bouquet he'd arranged the night before, with Friday being bursting with activities and way too much on your plate.  Marigolds, Grand Cru lilies, with speckles of baby's breath and the touch of white bouvardia. A bouquet you saw much of during your parents' marriage – with gifts of berries from Jay's family, pastries made by your father's careful hands, songs played by the royal orchestra at your father's order. 

You'd seemed like a madwoman last night, darting around in the kitchen and giving him things to do. He'd muddled berries, kneaded pastry dough, settled a lemon curd. He'd wrapped the flowers in wax paper, tied together with an ivory bow you'd stolen from your mother's collection – one she'd worn the night of her suitors' ball so many years ago.

"You haven't got all day, my love."

Your voice echoed down the hall, and he looked up to see you carefully clipping in your earrings. Your hair had been tied back and you weren't close to being ready, but he felt his heart all too warm as you smiled and waved him forward with both hands. He turned back to the heavy oak door, his hand grabbing the iron knocker and tapping it to the door three times. 

"Your Majesty? It's Jongseong." He speaks clearly, but feels his stomach flip as he hears the click of her shoes on the marble tile. He looks back up to see you've gone, closing his eyes as he takes another deep breath. He hears the door lock click open, before a shred of the morning light peeks through.

Your mother looks down at him, her eyes wide as she pulls the door open further.

"Yes?" Her voice is soft, and he opens his eyes to see her dressed in a bright, golden yellow dress. His eyes widen, hand tightening around the bouquet. Her eyes fill with worry, "Are you alright? Is that…for me?" "I…yes. Yes, it is. From…the Princess and I." He holds it out to her, her hand hesitating to take it as her eyes rake over it. "The Princess?" She whispers, before thumbing at the petals of the lilies. She takes it gently, her eyes filling with something of suspicion as she examines them. "Is she…planning something? She's a daring little thing, you know." "Not to my knowledge, Your Majesty." He lies through his teeth, his eyes catching the morning light reflecting off the glittering dress. "If I may…you look lovely." The Queen tenses, her hand moving to the bodice of her dress. She shifts quietly, before looking back at him.

"It's the least I could do for her. She complains that I never wear colors anymore. I figured…it's not too flashy, is it? She always liked this one best." The Queen turns to the grand mirror against the wall, and he cleared his throat.

"It's not about what I think, is it?" He smiles softly, earning a laugh from the Queen. It's rich, but airy and playful.

"I suppose today is all about her. I'm sure she'll love it, she has to." She soothes herself, before catching his eyes in the reflection of the mirror. "Jongseong?" "Yes, Your Majesty?" He straightens, and she turns on her heel, placing the hefty bouquet on her pillows. The bell sleeves of her dress come forward as she folds her manicured hands in front of her, her head tilted slightly under her sparkling bejeweled crown.

"You'll keep her safe, won't you? If you marry?" 

He feels his chest warm and swell with pride, his cheeks flushing as he bows at the waist. "It would be my honor, Your Majesty."

"And you'll love her, until the end of her days? 'Til death do you part?" Her voice grows stern, her brows furrowed at the center as he lifts his head. Her eyes are steely, only hardening more as he nodded.

"I'd give my life." He admits softly, her eyes softening. The Queen nods, and his eyes widen as she, too, bows at the waist with her eyes closed.

"Then I give you my blessing to take her hand in marriage." She whispers, before straightening and folding her hands behind her back. "Through sickness and health, for richer or poorer." "To love and cherish." He murmurs, folding his hands behind his back as he meets her eyes. "I give you my word, Your Majesty." She only nods softly, before reaching around her neck and unclasping her necklace. A thick, gold band is hanging next to the locket, and he recognizes it as the ring the King used to wear when he would visit. Without letting go of her locket, she carefully pulls at her left ring finger.  He can't help but feel his eyes widen as she holds the hefty gold bands out to him. She gives him a pointed look, flicking her wrist for him to take the jewelry. He does so carefully, before she smiles.

"I've had them blessed by the town priest, so don't worry. Now…see to it that everything is in place in the gardens, will you? It's going to be a very busy day."

He nods, "Of course, Your Majesty. Thank you…for everything."

"It's my honor, Jongseong. Please, go." He reaches for the door without another word, closing it gently behind him before he makes his way down the hall, his hands cool against flaming hot cheeks.

Jay is strolling through the garden as the trickle of guests begin arriving, greeting them gently as the royal orchestra plays soft music at the edge of the rose garden. You'd be crowned Queen in the marigold garden, the courtyard decorated to your liking – cream and ivory ribbon tied in all sorts of bows, glittering vases filled with refreshing spring water on the long table covered in fruit and meat and soft, spongy cakes.

Your mother's throne sits at the end of the court yard, the Decelis staff and coronation crown sat on a purple velvet pillow. They sparkle in the sunlight, with the people of the kingdom fawning over it from a distance – a royal guard standing on high alert next to the throne.

"Oh, this is beautiful."

He hears a familiar voice at the entrance of the lily garden, his eyes widening as he sees his parents slip in. He rushes over, a smile on his face as his mother waves him over.

"You're here! Did the Queen send for you?" He embraces them warmly, but hears your voice before they can respond.

"I sent for them, Jongseong. Mrs. Park, Mr. Park. It's an honor to see you again. I'm sorry I couldn't make it back last weekend, I had a terrible case of the lollygag." The three of them look up to see you smiling brightly – your dress long and sparkling in the morning sun, of glittering alabaster tulle and a billowing skirt in the soft breeze. Your arms are covered in sparkling sleeves, belled at the wrists and your shoulders peeking from the lowered cuffs. Your hair is pulled back, not a single strand out of place under your twinkling tiara. Your ears don simple gold hoops, your necklace the crest of the kingdom on an ovaled pendant.

"Oh, my stars." Mrs. Park's hand covers her mouth, "Look at you, Princess."

"Oh, you flatter me. Please, come in. Make yourselves comfortable, there's a table reserved for you at the front." You give them a quick curtsy, giving Mrs. Park a quick hug and Mr. Park a soft handshake. "I'll see you all during the feast, yes?" "Of course." Mr. Park nods, before Jay watches them slip away. You glance at him, your smile softening as you inch near – not close enough to catch attention, but seemingly just a princess speaking to her guard about something worrisome.

"I love you." You whisper, only to earn a scoffed laugh.

"You're going to be the death of me, look at you." He whispers back, and you hide your laugh with a bite of your lip. "I love you, my heart." "I'll see you after, yes? Sit with your parents." You pat his arm, and he nods, before disguising a tiara adjustment as an excuse to touch you.

"I have to talk to you after, okay? We can meet in the library." He whispers, and your eyes fill with worry. "Is everything alright?" "Of course, my heart. Why would I worry you on such an important day?" His smile is warm, and you give him a suspicious one with a pat to his chest. "Well…I'll see you. Go, sit while I mingle. I need you up there when I get crowned." You wiggle your brows, and he lets his eyes flicker to your lips. You stick your tongue out at him, "Not here." "I know, I know. But…you know, right?" He pretends to adjust the tiara again, watching the way you fight yourself from leaning into the touch. "You have to know." "I do. I love you. Now, go, beloved." You point your gaze, and he retreats his hands to his back, giving you a curt nod.

"As you wish, Your Highness." He grins as you scowl, laughing to himself as he turns away and walks towards his parents. They're seated quietly, with two glasses of water poured in front of them and a plate of sliced fruit. They smile at each other as they pick at the berries chosen from their shop, and he slips into the chair next to them.

"Does the Queen know?" His mother whispers, and he clears his throat quietly. "Yes." He tries not to let the giddiness climb up his throat, and she smiles softly. "Are you happy?" His father questions, and he nods discreetly.

"It's the softest thing I've ever felt." He looks up before picking at the plate of fruit, piercing a blackberry with a toothpick as he sees you take a flute of sparkling cider off a passing waiter's tray. You hand it to the younger woman in front of you, before tucking her hair behind her ear. You give her a soft nod, before turning away and leaving her in awe.

Much like you've always left him.

"Welcome, welcome! Ladies and gentleman, it is such an honor to have you all here for this incredibly important day in our kingdom's history. Today, we witness the spring equinox be christened with the crowning of a new Queen, of a new ruler." 

Your mother is standing bright and tall at the end of the marigold garden, with everyone in utter astonishment at the return of her colorful wardrobe. She's practically glimmering in everyone's eyes – and she holds her composure at everyone's loving eyes as she continues to speak.

"Through the years of my time as Queen, I've seen many things. Even as just a part of this world, I've seen so much. I've seen death, I've seen birth. I've seen renewal and growth, I've seen the sick be healed and the healed lose their minds in utter despair at the idea of loss. There are some special gratitudes I'd like to put forth, particularly to the Park family." She smiles warmly at their table, and they smile quietly. 

You're standing with Jay next to the throne, your hands folded behind your back when you sneak at a glance at him. Your eyes catch his, and he raises a brow as he looks between his parents. "The Park family has not only brought forth an incredibly bounty – the juice of their fruit so sweet on our tongues, the magic of Mrs. Park's medicinal genius curing our sickness…but the blanket of love they have covered my family in. For decades, I've entrusted my life in their hands, my daughter's…my heart, the King." The crowd of townspeople hum in mourning, and your mother rolls her shoulders gently. Her hands cover her chest, fingers curled around each other as she breathes in.

"With death, comes life. Though the loss of the King has been long in the past now, I still feel it. I feel the pain, deep in my heart. As though a piece of my soul has gone with him, as though I'm no longer complete." Her voice remains strong and steady, but her eyes water slightly as she rolls her shoulders once more.

"I remember when I first introduced Y/N as the Princess of Decelis. Everyone, as far as the eye could see, became incredibly enamored with her. And I could feel it, I could feel the adoration of everyone who came to see her. It was one of the proudest moments of my life, and…through her, every time I see her…" She turns to look at you, standing next to her throne with your head held high.

"It's like the King never left. She is so full of light, love and life. Life, what we are all surviving when we should be living. What more could I ever ask of her? When I know she'll be a wonderful ruler, a fair and just Queen. What more, I ask, could I ever want? When I know she will be happy, with the love that she gives and the light that she shines upon us all?"

Jay glances at you through the corner of his eye, your eyes watering as you step forward. You don't see the way his fingers clench at his side, wanting to comfort you.

"The Princess has some thoughts she'd like to share before we continue. Please, a standing ovation."

The Queen steps back, her smile soft as you take her place. Everyone in front of you has the same bright smile, but the only ones that matter are behind you.

"It is truly an honor to be in front of you all today to accept the next step in my journey. The Queen and I have gone through many things together, and though I've seen only what half has she, I…know the love. The light that shines on this kingdom, not brought forth by me but by her. So much kindness, and generosity, even through her own tribulations. Wouldn't you agree?" Your smile garners the cheers of the townspeople gathered throughout the gardens, and you clap along them softly. Your face grows slightly solemn as you clear your throat. "Three years ago this winter, our kingdom was ambushed by Fort Allingham and Castle Desrosiers. A plot of land just south of our kingdom was unclaimed, and it is said that greed is the greatest root of all evil. Land, gold, riches in oil can all be taken; when a life is taken to stake their claim, when life a many is taken…it cannot be in vain. The King…he died with honor. His sacrifice, and his memory will not be thrown away or forgotten. With this, I ask for a moment of silence for the royal orchestra to play something I've asked to honor him today, as well as the indescribable love he had for my mother."

You watch as the people of your kingdom turn to the orchestra in the rose garden, your mother's brow slightly furrowed as she does the same.

Her eyes widen as the opening notes of Salut D'Amour float through the garden.

Soft murmurs fill the garden – because everyone who knows the story of your mother and father knows that it was the first and only song they danced to during the suitors' ball where they met. Everyone who went to the royal wedding and sat in that sacred ballroom, knows that Salut D'Amour played as their first dance together.

Everyone who was at the feast to honor your father, knows that Salut D'Amour played during the last dance of the night.

Salut D'Amour – Greeting of Love.

The Queen hums along quietly, her eyes watering as she sways from side to side. The townspeople do the same, and you feel the heat of Jay's eyes on you as everyone else is turned away. You meet them, a soft smile on your lips as you tilt your head.

The song ends, and the garden is erupted in cheers as your mother steps to you, resting her forehead to yours.

"Thank you, darling." She steps aside, and you garner their attention once more.

"My father was a wonderful man, father and king. I hope to only live up to my mother's legacy, and his. Thank you for being with me on this very special day." You take a quick bow as they clap gently, before taking a step back next to the thrown. Your mother smiles, stepping forward alongside her royal guard that holds the pillow. She grabs the staff in her right hand, before you turn to face her. Jay places a thick cushion on the ground for you to kneel onto, gingerly taking your hand to help you down. He lets his touch linger, before another guard hands him a matching pillow for your tiara.

"Today, we witness a wonderful transition for the Decelis Kingdom." She touches the end of the staff to your left shoulder, "Princess Y/N will honor the crest of the kingdom, the glory, the honesty and the truth…" She touches it to your right shoulder, "She will make her decisions of sane heart and mind, and bring forth only fruit to the kingdom. She will be just, and fair…" She touches the staff to the top of your head, "And she will bestow mercy upon us all. Do you choose to venerate these honors as I have read them to you?"

"I do." You hold your hands out for the staff, and the Queen gingerly places it in your hands. You lean your head forward, your mother carefully lifting your tiara and placing it on the pillow in Jay's hands. He hands it off to another royal guard, who steps back with it and stands rigidly. She turns slightly, taking the coronation crown in her hands and Jay holds his hand for you to take as you stand. You transfer the staff into your right hand, bowing your head as your mother places the heavy crown atop your head.

"Crowned on this 80th calendar day, on the first equinox of the year; I present the honorable Queen of Decelis."

You turn to face the people of your kingdom, your cheeks hurting as the entire garden fills with screams and cheers, a few whistles sounding off from the somehow tipsy men in the corner. You give the Parks a warm smile as they stand and clap, before you speak again.

"Well, what are we waiting for? Let's celebrate!"

"You have no idea how many people asked when I'm getting married, and if I'd be having a suitors' ball. Apparently, it's unheard of for a prospective Queen to advance to the throne without being betrothed. How incredibly modern of me." You're slumped over the end of your bed, earning a soft laugh as he pulled at the strings of your dress. You sighed in relief at the loosening of the bodice around your torso, stretching slightly. He pulls the zipper down with ease, his knuckles digging lightly against your back as you groan. "And what did you tell them?" You huff, before rolling on your back. There's a guilty look in your eye, and he feels suspicion cross his features as he leans over you. He raises a brow as you look away from him.

"Y/N." "Don't say my name like that, then I can't ignore it."

You cover your face with your hands, but he pulls them away from you, pinning them above your head as he gives you an expectant look. You sigh, tonguing your cheek before rolling your eyes.

"I told them that I was already betrothed." You mumble, making him groan slightly. "I don't believe in jinxes! So we're fine! It's fine!" "Honey, you can't do that. People are going to stir up a flurry of rumors." He scolds, but you only jut your lip out in a pout.

"Don't chastise me right now, I saved you from having to ask me! And I've had a long day!" You try and reason, but he only shakes his head, leaning closer. He feels your breath hitch as his lips brush yours as he speaks.

"And what makes you think I don't want to ask you to marry me? Why do you get to make that decision for us?" You blink carefully, before sighing. Your tongue darts out to wet your lips, before you shrug in defeat.

"I guess I jumped the gun." "Oh, but you've had such a long day." You scoff, "Don't patronize me." He smiles, pressing a kiss to your lips. You frown as he pulls away before you can kiss him back, but he lets go of your hands entirely and slides off the bed. You try not to look disappointed as you slip in front of your vanity, pulling pins out of your hair and rubbing your fingers against your scalp. Your eyes roll slightly, before you feel Jay's fingers begin to pluck the rest of the pins out.

"Your mother spoke to me this morning when I delivered her flowers. She's quite scary sometimes." He nods as you look at him through the mirror, your eyes wide as you attempt to turn to look at him. He smirks, holding your head in place with his hands as you scowl. "My mother is not scary." You grumble, tonguing your cheek before you feel his dull fingernails scrape lightly against your scalp. You lean into it, and he bites back a laugh as he massages the back of your head. He leans down slightly, pressing his lips to your temple before whispering.

"She gave me her blessing." He watches your eyes widen in the mirror, before you twist in your seat. "You asked her?" "She didn't give me a chance, she just asked me if I'd keep you safe." You turn fully as he crouches in front of you, carefully pulling your heels off. "And what did you say?" "That it would be my honor. She asked if I'd love you until the end of your days, 'til death do us part. I said I'd give my life. The way I see it, your mother practically married us already."

You snort, nudging his thigh with your foot. "You haven't even asked me yet."

He smiles, feeling his heart warm as you realize that that's precisely what he's about to do. "No, Jay, not right now! I look a mess, and I'm half dressed–" "And yet, you're still the love of my life. Funny how that works, isn't it?" He grins as you pout, your eyes filling with tears as he reaches into his pocket, pulling out the gold bands that belonged to your mother. "She gave me these."

Your pout only deepens as you cover your face with your hands, a soft sob falling from your lips as he coos.

"Oh, sweetheart. Come on, don't cry. I haven't even asked yet."

You uncover your face, a furrow in your brows as your voice sounds off, thick with tears. "It doesn't even matter if you have, I know you're going to and I'm going to say yes so just put the damn thing on me already!" "You really have had such a long day, I'd hate to make it longer." He can't help but smile wider, making you scoff.

"I'm in tears and you're smiling at me! You're cynical!" You wipe at your face with your hands as he bends one knee on the floor, only for your face to crumple the moment it hits the ground. "Jongseong!" He takes your hand gently, your lips pouty as he presses a kiss to your knuckles. "I love you, you know that?" He starts, "You are the softest, purest form of love I've ever been subjected to and I don't think I could ever fathom a life where I don't come home to you every single night. I love you when you're sick and throwing a fit because it's too hot, I love you when you hog the blankets in my room even though you're technically not even supposed to be in there." You scoff, but don't interrupt as he runs his thumb over your knuckles.

"I love you like every day will be my last, and I worship the ground you walk upon until I can no longer crawl behind you. If my dying day was spent by your side…I could never ask for more." 

He glances up at you, your eyes wide and wet and full of love.

"Marry me." He whispers, and you nod your head frantically. "Yes, I intend to. Hurry up!" You splay your fingers, making him snort as he shakes his head.

"You're so impatient." He rolls his eyes, but doesn't miss the tremble in his fingers as he carefully slides the ring on yours. Your hand grabs his, pulling him forward and pressing a warm kiss to his lips before grabbing his face and squeezing his cheeks between your hands. You pepper kisses all over it, with murmurs of I love you sprinkled in before you stop suddenly, your eyes wide as you pull back.

"You're going to be King." You blurt, and he shrugs but you shake your head, still holding onto his face as you ramble. "Jay, you're going to be King. There is so much my mom is going to have to teach you, and she–"

"Honey." "She's going to have to set up the wedding because I don't know how to do that, and what if she–" "Y/N." You stop, embarrassedly letting go of his face. "I'm sorry." He takes hold of your hands, standing from his spot in front of you and pulling you with him. He plants a kiss on your hairline, before tucking a loose curl behind your ear.

"Where you go, I go. Doesn't matter what I am, as long as I'm yours. We'll figure it out in due time." He presses a chaste kiss to your pouted lip, before cradling your face in his hands. "What do you say I help you decompress from your oh so long day?" You raise a brow, "Are you gonna–" "Do the tongue thing, yes." "Lock my door. We may be engaged, but I'm still a lady."

THE WEDDING WAS HELD THREE WEEKS LATER AND WAS A HUGE SUCCESS – WITH MANY TOWNSPEOPLE TALKING ABOUT HOW EASY IT WAS TO FIGURE OUT THAT IT WAS HIM YOU WERE ENGAGED TO.

How, you may be asking? Neither of you are as subtle as you think. Apparently, neither of you could stop sharing glances during the last feast of your coronation festivities, and a few of the straggling women spotted him press a kiss to your shoulder as he helped clean up the garden. Not to mention the fact that several huntsmen had also been in the forest every time you and him went to visit his parents. As it turns out, you don't usually end up making out against a tree during regular archery lessons, but hey – life is short. Foragers had also spotted the two of you about, and you're embarrassed to know that one of the fishermen in town had come across you and Jay canoodling while roasting a wild salmon over a campfire. Mr. Lee insisted it was fine, that it was cute – and also, none of his business.

The wedding had been grand – and quick. Jay was always right, you were incredibly impatient; but you saw no reason for something to take so long to plan when you had everything perfectly accessible. Your ceremony was only family and a few scattered friends – but the reception was a huge feast that gathered all the townspeople in your garden once more. Your first dance was to Salut D'Amour, and you got slightly tipsy off a few flutes of champagne. Your dress was something delicate, worked on from the morning after your coronation to the morning of your wedding – and every single sparkle of glitter was perfect in the beaming sunlight.  As for Jay? He was crowned King in the privacy of your mother's throne room, with his parents and you present. No one in town made a fuss about it, seemingly aware that he was a private person – after all, you managed to keep a relationship of three years secret…for the most part. He admitted he didn't really care for the title, only taking it because it meant a great deal of support for you as Queen. 

He moved his belongings into your bedroom, and you could tell the way things really hit him as he put away the last book in his collection onto your shelf. 

"...So this is us, huh?" He murmured, slipping under the covers as you snorted, resting your head on the heel of your palm as he turned on his side to face you. "We're married." "We are." You smile, "It's insane to me to know that me telling my father I thought you were cute has led us here."

"I love knowing that you fell first." "Oh, shut up. You fell harder." "I'm not refuting that, I'm just saying…you like me." "I love you, idiot." You roll your eyes as he scoots closer, and you swing your leg over his hip. "Just wait until everyone starts asking about heirs. I swear, it will feel like the most awkward thing ever." "We just got married, they can wait a year or two." He snorts, and you raise a brow.

"A year or two? More like three or four." You scoff, and he smiles. "Don't smile at me like that, it's like you're plotting something." "Three or four years?" He moves to hover over you slightly, making you groan as he presses a chaste kiss to your lips. "Jay." "Mmh?" "You are horrible, terrible, no good for my health." You huff embarrassedly as he trails down your jaw, his hand pushing the hem of your nightgown up. "Awful, even. Bad." "Mhm, mhm." His fingers curl around the waistband of your underwear, "Have you tried detrimental to? Maybe ghastly?" "You're parlous for my health, my beloved husband." You roll your eyes as he smiles, before feeling the fabric of your underwear being pulled down your legs. "Jay." "Consider this a practice round." He presses a kiss to your lips, "Just wanna make you feel good, okay?"

And of course, it's okay. It's always okay – it's you and him, forever.

That's why you're never against him, either. You'd never felt so safe in the arms of someone who didn't owe you anything – because he didn't. He didn't owe you the kindness of his heart, the warmth of his love or the solidness of his honesty. He didn't owe you friendship, because when this started – it was just a job. To protect you from harm, to watch over you, to help you hop along.

When he first came into your life after your father's death, he helped you see there was a way to have your cake and eat it too, to win the battle and the war.

There didn't have to be more than that to your relationship – more than the subtle reminders of unbreakable love, of yearning desire, of undying patience.

There didn't have to be anything more to you as a person – nothing but who you were already, sprinkled in with what it was like to be loved by Jay. It was warm, it was patient and kind…and it was everything to you. Jay was everything to you, and you felt ease knowing it could now forever rest at the forefront of your mind – because he is proof that you can win the battle, and conquer the world.

"Honey?" "Yes, my heart?" "I love you." "I love you, angel."

You might have to kill Mr. Park, preferably with something incredibly sharp.

Every remark your boss throws at you, verbal or handwritten, trickles down your body like acid. It's a wonder you haven't been eaten alive by his criticisms already, the CEO cruel in his meticulous focus and scathing remarks.

These estimates look terrible.

My dog could create a better spreadsheet than this—before he chewed it up, anyway.

Do you always lack focus on projects like this?

Just because he's the head of Daydream Media does not mean he gets to parade around with the energy of a pompous cockatiel. As soon as the thought comes up, though, you shut it down. Cockatiels are much cuter than him, and probably a lot cuddlier too.

Working under the guy for twelve months, you know how unrelenting his desire for perfection can be. Starting his company straight out of high school, the business went from a passion project in his garage to a multi-tier musical instrument and audio equipment manufacturer that could make Yamaha blush.

Park's admirable work ethic drove you to apply for a job at his company in the first place. Yet, his need to micromanage others quickly overpowered all the qualities you first admired about the man. His head status practically ensures all he needs to do during work hours is oversee company meetings and sit prettily at his desk. So why did he have to be such a prick?

You're grumbling to yourself as you type out your response to his last email regarding your monthly sales report. Every clack of your laptop's keyboard feels and sounds like gunshots in your ears. You try to remember to stick to facts, keep your response level, and do all the things you've learned from years working with pretentious dickheads like Park.

But there's something about him specifically, the irritation he stirs in you so deeply ingrained beyond the surface of your dignity you can't seem to think rationally.

Your cubby mate, Sunghoon, notices the tension pervading your shoulders and neck, the veins in them close to bulging from your skin. He slaps you on the back with a manila folder, and you roll your eyes in response.

"What crawled up your ass and took a vacation?"

You give him your best fake smile as you punctuate your email's last sentence with a period. "Who do you think?"

"Santa Claus? I hate that fucker." Sunghoon's smirk can usually put you out of any funky mood you're in, but not today. You smile with closed lips instead, hoping the message gets across well. I love you, but it's not the best time.

You close the email and rotate your chair in his direction. Sunghoon may put too much gel in his hair and annoy you to no end, but he's your best friend, regardless. He's partially the reason you stick around the hell-ridden office you've made a home in for a year. "Mr. Park," is the only answer you give him to curtail his initial sardonic guess.

"Ah, head honcho." He flicks his gaze toward your boss's office, a stray hair whipping into his forehead. "What's he mad about now?"

"My latest stats for the new snare kits." You huff out a breath of air. Rubbing your temple, you try to curtail the impending headache on the horizon. "Don't know if he's pissed they're not selling as predicted or because I didn't make the headers on the sheet the right shade of green."

"Hey!" Sunghoon points one of his slender fingers in your face. "You know the guy uses night mode on his fancy PC all the time. He needs to see the projections, you heathen."

Just as a laugh is ready to escape your mouth, your computer pings. The notification reads the email is from the devil himself. As you click it to pop open the application in full-screen mode, you wonder what Park could say so quickly after you gave him a three-paragraph-length explanation on your report.

When you read the single line of text, any semblance of happiness turns to bile in your throat.

You'd think with your degree, you'd be able to spell "acquisition" correctly.

All the composure you tried to muster dies. Your jaw muscles tighten and your teeth gnash against each other as the words replay in your head over and over. He has no right, and yet he does at the same time. He didn't need to say it the way he did, and yet it's here in black and white for you to spiral because of, the exasperated and petulant tone practically hitting your eardrum in the way only his voice can.

You ruminate on your initial thought of murder, and you know even now—despite the ever-present reason to put the guy in a casket—it's childish.

But if you can't kill him, the less drastic option is to at least give him a piece of your mind.

Your chair bangs against the cubby opposite of yours when you stand up, and Sunghoon flinches. "Hey, don't do something you'll regret," your best friend warns.

"Trust me, I won't," you mutter quickly before storming off in the direction of the executive offices.

At lightning speed, you're in front of Jay Park himself. The man's ready to dig into a chocolate cupcake when you approach him.

"Do you get off on being an asshole?" The words come out biting and high-pitched, but every knot in your gut unfurls when you say it. His eyes bug out, and that gives you the perfect signal to continue before he can open his mouth with a witty comeback.

"I spelled one fucking word wrong in an email, and it was another excuse for you to pick me apart and prove you're the one calling the shots here. But having millions of dollars to your name or a shitload of success doesn't make you a good person. You treat so many people in this company like disposable pieces of garbage, when the only one who should feel like that is you!

"You're an arrogant, self-centered, irritable…" Your last words disintegrate on your tongue when you see the single pink candle strewn across his desk. The flame was puffed out long ago, but it tells you all you need to know.

You're giving your boss the proverbial middle finger on his birthday.

In the second between realizing you've been telling him off to considerable lengths for a long minute and the fact you've done so on his birthday of all days makes you flush. Your entire body drains of its color the longer you remain silent. How could you forget this day? Why did you have to find courage at the worst time?

He doesn't yell back, scoff, or do any of the telltale things you expect from him by now. Instead, all he does is laugh. He almost smashes his face into the cupcake in front of his lips as the chuckles exit his mouth.

"I thought Chaewon in accounting giving me this would be the highlight of my day," he lifts his cupcake for dramatic effect as he speaks, "but that…tirade has to be the best present I've had in a long time." He sets the cupcake down and stands up from his desk, but not before rolling the cuffs of his button up to his forearms, wiping the crumbs off of his fingers with disinterest.

You stutter, unsure how to continue now or what he plans on doing. As you try composing an apology, the automatic blinds to the windows that give Jay a bird's-eye view of the employee floor from his office come down. You slowly watch the people outside of the room leave the corner of your eye, and you gulp. "I—"

"I admire your courage, you know. Walking in here with that angry pout and little performance. I thought you couldn't get any cuter."

"I didn't pre-plan it," you interrupt him, some of your flare coming back in full color. Even as you say it, your mind hangs on his last word like a clothespin. Cuter?

You never would've expected that word to come from his mouth. Not in relation to you, anyway.

"Of course." His smile remains plastered across his face, but it doesn't meet his eyes. "Do you remember that team-building retreat in Seosan? It must've been around your three-month mark here with us."

You nod vigorously, going back to the memories of that vacation in your mind's eye. That word fits better, you think, when you recall sipping cocktails and lounging by the pool with Sunghoon and your mutual friend in sales, Jake. You did your typically professional routine by day, attending meetings and learning seminars like an astute employee. The nights that accompanied them were filled with fun and laughter you were glad to have with your new coworkers.

"Yes, I remember." You stand stock still even as he steps closer, the professional bubble on the precipice of being popped with every step he takes to get closer to you.

"Do you ever stop to think when my…excuses to pick you apart, as you said, began to occur?" He holds his fingers under his chin, pretending to contemplate the answer to the question with you, and while it riles you up, it leaves you more confused.

"It must've been…" You bite your lip, unsure what intentions are hiding behind his questions. "I'm not sure."

"One of the first emails I sent to you was marked right after we came back from the trip."

"I—I don't understand."

Jay laughs again, the sound hollow. "For an incredibly brilliant woman, it seems you need things made explicitly clear to you."

He's so close now, you smell the mint on his breath. It's intoxicating mixed with his cologne—Prada, you think. The mixture combined with his proximity makes your knees buckle a fraction. "Maybe something about you caught my eye, sipping Mai Tais one minute and being so prim and proper the next, and I've been spending the past excruciatingly long nine months trying to figure out what. All I know is that it's definitely not your penchant for spelling." His eyes gleam with sincerity, a rawness that you've never witnessed in his presence. This is the first time you've ever been alone together, truthfully.

"Respectfully, sir, there's nothing particularly eye-catching about me," you say meekly. "It's not like I'm the one with the company—"

Jay's lips slamming into yours is the last sensation you planned on feeling because of him. You can live with displeasure, annoyance, exasperation, but this is entirely new. He captures the inside of your mouth with his tongue, pressing in and probing like he's never felt someone more worthy of exploring before.

His fingers find purchase at your waist, and he takes your bottom half in both of his hands as he continues navigating your mouth. The spank he lands to one side pushes you further into him, and his body rumbles in delight. He's searching for the answer to his previous question; you can tell. What is it about you that's been driving him crazy, and continues to do so?

His intense physical analysis of you and your body makes you cry out, eager for more and not settling for anything else. Has this been always sitting under the surface, the tension you so adamantly assumed was hatred? You should've noted the way he stared at you from across the bar all those months ago, lights twinkling behind his head as he quietly observed you in all of your alcohol-flushed but starlit stupors.

Again, the words run around the two of you like a marathon, practically screaming in your ears: it's always existed, this tie between you both that you once assumed was founded on disdain.

Boy, were you fucking wrong.

Jay pulls away when he hears your moan fill the room. "Forgive me," he starts, "I just couldn't help myself." You must look breathless, seem dumbstruck, for him to hold you with such care and tenderness. You barely recognize the man in front of you, the tyrant you purported to know long gone.

He runs a finger across your bottom lip, and you can't fight the urge to take the digit into your mouth. When you bite down on the soft skin of his index finger, he groans. "I just apologized for my lack of control. Don't make me lose it again, princess."

The pet name shoots you in between the legs, your body jelly in his hold when his eyes stare you down so intensely. "What if I want you to…sir?"

He takes your throat in one palm and kisses you deeply, cutting off your breathing just a touch for you to focus only on his mouth. Like he's the only thing that can keep you breathing if you just give into him.

"I thought you hated me," he confesses in between kisses. He peppers them across your cheeks and takes a long pull at your mouth again before pushing you into the edge of his desk. You squeal when he lifts you up and sets you down on the glass tabletop, not stopping his barrage of kisses and licks to your skin.

"B-Because it's not normal to feel the opposite. To have a crush on your very powerful and intimidating boss isn't exactly smiled upon in the code of conduct, sir," you whisper as he trails his lips down your neck, across your collarbones. He even goes so far as to dip his nose towards the center of your cleavage. You never hated him, you realize. He frustrates you to no end, for sure, but that emotion clearly has many facets that you never dissected before.

"So you think I'm intimidating now?" Jay questions you with a lilt of humor that is unmissable. He unties your blouse and unclasps your bra in record time so both articles of clothing fall to the floor like raindrops, insignificant now that they're out of the way. It would be incredibly easy to get lost in the beauty of your chest, the peaks of your nipples and curve of your breasts, details Jay wants to take to his short and long term memory, but he's got a one-track mind that points south. If he enjoyed making you squirm with words before, he smirks to himself at how different it'll be for you when uses his body this time.

"I've always thought you were," you confess. You gasp when he bunches your skirt between his fingers to sit the material at your hips, exposing your lace panties. The fabric is soaked by now; you swear you can feel a damp spot forming under you and on his desk.

But he looks more than satisfied.

"Fuck, this is how wet you get?" The question is more for his ears than yours, and you whine from the lack of his touch on your skin, although you've had a plethora of that merely a second ago. You thought you were burning before, but now you're on fire and close to becoming ash before he's even truly done anything.

"Mr. Park, p-please," you beg, slightly gyrating against the glass desk for some relief. It's better than doing nothing to fix the ache he's created.

"It's Jongseong," he interrupts you with a smile. "Jay if it's easier pretty, but I do love it when you use my surname like that." He nips your lips again, licking inside your mouth lewdly.

"Lie back," he commands. It's hard to do as he asks with so much in the way, but the problem's immediately solved when he throws the contents on his desk—including his laptop—to the side. Everything clatters to the floor, but you fight the urge to react outwardly. The only physical reaction is your eyes going wide at the sound the clattering of his pencils, books, and electronics just made. Your reaction causes him to scoff, the sound on the edge of wickedness. "I can get all of this brand-new in a second. Don't focus on that," he says with his hands rubbing the outside of your thighs in tender circles, "and focus on laying down now, princess."

You let your bare back softly hit the glass. The desk is cold against your naked skin, but the sensation's immediately replaced by the warmth of Jay's breath against you. "You're beautiful. Just like I dreamed," he whispers, partly amazed and fully intoxicated, before diving in.

Jay immediately laps and sucks along your folds—the sounds of his mouth working your hole reverberating across the walls—as if he's been starved for decades. He takes your clit between his lips as a finger prods your center. The digit hooks inside of your core without issue. He eats you out like no man has ever done to you or for you before, his method alternating between long strokes of his fingers and little flicks of his tongue. How could heaven be so attainable with someone you initially saw as the devil incarnate?

"You asked me if I get off on being an asshole," he whispers into your cunt. "I don't. But I just might from touching you. You taste impeccable." He slaps your clit abruptly, making you keen. He presses the hand originally at your neck against your chest, your heartbeat thrumming against his palm. The tempo is all for him, a beat he wishes to hear on loop forever.

“It's like you were made for me," he whispers, "the perfect little slut splayed out like this." He inches your thighs further apart to see the way your hole glistens with his spit and your gathering arousal. The sight makes the strain of his erection in his slacks a touch more painful. It begs for him to do something else fast to relieve the surmounting pressure, but he puts off the urge for now. "I fucking love it."

"Jong—sir—I'm gonna come," you announce, the lower half of your center bumping into his chin harshly from how hard you're following the movements of his mouth. You shouldn't chase it so fiercely, but you want him to pick you apart in this way. You've never wished for anything more in your life.

And you know he'll put you back together just to repeat the process all over again.

"Come for me, princess. I want to feel it on my tongue." He replaces his finger with the wet muscle, dipping inside of you to lap up all of you before you completely crumble. Jay takes it all beautifully, allowing his face to be covered in you in the aftermath. You scream out as your release continues overtaking your better judgement. Your brain doesn't care how loud your cries of pleasure must be or have been.

Your coworkers saw you walk in here moments ago; they have to know what you're getting up to, legs spread for your boss and letting him use you for all of his fantasies. But, as you float back to consciousness, you don't seem to give a fuck about any of them.

"You did so well for me, pretty." Jay unbuckles his belt and unzips his fly just a touch to pull his cock from his pants. He hisses when he touches himself, and you know he must be aching from no stimulation prior to this moment. "Think you can handle one more?"

"Yes, sir, please." You say it with such a twinkle in your eye, Jay doesn't seem to care if he breaks the Italian-made iron of his desk. He has to have you, to cover your body with his and push you beyond your limits again.

Jay does exactly that, squishing you between his white button up and the glass underneath you, but you wouldn’t mind if he collapsed your lungs at this point. He's taken you to the edge of breathlessness by now, so there's nothing stopping him from fully toppling you over.

He slides inside of you without issue, your previous arousal creating the right amount of slip. But he's so big, his cock tightly filling your pussy with every inch, the tears that fill your eyes are unavoidable. "S-sir, it's t-too much—"

Jay halts the lie on your lips with his own, his teeth tugging at your bottom lip with a fierce power. "It's not nearly enough, pretty. You feel incredible, so tight. Such a tight little cunt, and all mine."

You nod your head as he thrusts, fat tears falling down your cheeks as he sets a relentless rhythm. The iron fixtures of Jay's desk squeak and tremble from how hard his hips snap up into you, but the only sounds he focuses on are your mewls and labored breaths. You're a vision, fucked out and trembling, and he can't picture a moment where you don't captivate his very being.

The answer to his earlier question hits him like a flutter of wind to the face: it's everything about you. Your relentless effort to every minute task that mirrors his own, your smart retorts to his endless critiques, the way your eyes crinkle at the edges when you laugh. It's all that pervades his mind, but the new images of your slung mouth and sounds you make on the brink of your second orgasm take precedence on the list of ways you enthrall him.

He reaches in between you to pinch and roll your clit against his thumb and index finger, feeling his own release on the tip of his tongue. "Come with me, princess. Let me feel it."

You don't need to hear it a second time to listen to his words clearly. You rattle around his cock like thunder that follows a stroke of lightning, your body shaking as your body surges with endorphins. If your first orgasm was bright and blinding, this one is all-encompassing and soul-shattering, threading into every seam of you so you don't forget how it feels to be pleasured so well, loved so thoroughly.

Jay comes right after you, his warmth flooding you as his body goes taut from his own shocks of numbing pleasure. You know he feels the same, with the way his brows knit together and his jaw slacks. His hips stutter to a full stop, and he can barely pull out of you without his body quaking. He watches the traces of his cum leak out, mixing with the arousal still surrounding your hole, and he knows he's in it now. He'll never go back.

You slump against him when he lays back on the table. The staccato of his heartbeat sweeps through your right eardrum. The muscle's tempo is an exact match for your own racing chest.

"I can't believe I was so loud," you murmur into the silence that follows your labored breaths. Jay looks down at you with a dazed smirk, and you giggle with a shy smile before tucking your face in between your fingers.

Jay takes both palms in his own to kiss, and semblances of the sweat on his skin touch you like dew. It's beautiful to be so wrong about someone, this gentleness he's displaying proving that fact perfectly. "The glass is laminated, and the rest of the walls are soundproof, princess. Nobody could hear you in here unless I truly gave it my all."

You smirk, unruffled by the fact your boss always thinks one step ahead of everyone, even in situations like this. "That wasn't your all?" You blush and tuck your face into his neck, the question rhetorical and teasing. "Seems you have a lot to show me."

"That I will." He takes your jaw between his fingers when he kisses you again. Mint still lingers on his tongue behind the traces of your arousal, and you could become a puddle again from how unreal it all seems. The past thirty minutes, the preceding moments before you walked into his office, and the plans that lay ahead for the future. "But not before I take you on a proper date."

Months later, you sit at your desk with only your boss on your mind, his eyes lingering on you even as his CFO Lee Heeseung discusses something menial with him. You try to go back to your laptop screen, the seasonal trends report for the new line of guitar strings begging to be completed, but it's no use. You're enthralled with the man across the office space, just like he is with you.

So when the email to meet him in his office for an "oral report" of the latest documented projections comes a few moments later, you don't question him, the man you love.

You thought you wanted to kill your boss before, but it was truly unexpected how many deaths—both little and enormous—Jay Park seemed to have in his pocket for you.

@gyubakeries @loserlvrss @jjunberry @frenchkisstheabyss @prkhaven @tinycatharsis @fangel @aaa-sia @yvnempire @addictedtohobi @innocygnet @filmnings @lovetaroandtaemin @xylatox @dawngyu

𝐍𝐄𝐓𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐊𝐒 ── .✦ @kstrucknet @k-films @kvanity-main @lapydiaries @/moadiarynet @/pirateeznet @/thediamondlifenetwork @sweetvenomnet @violetanet @whipped-kpop-creators

“This is so warm,” Heeseung grumbled, stretching his limbs from the denim jacket confining them, trying his best to get it off while still remaining balanced. “Too hot.” 

You looked at him as you rounded the corner, his eyes slit open slightly and an uncomfortable look across his face. It was a sight to take in, but you couldn’t stop staring through the dim lighting at the cute flush his neck and ears had. It also didn’t help that he was wearing a black undershirt, showing off his straining muscles and collarbones as he tried his hardest to free himself.

He’d gotten your door closed within the chaos, back now turned to you—you’re not even sure if he knew you’d made it down the hallway at him until your voice broke through his groans, “Take it off then, I'll help you.”

He turned quickly, clutching at the wall for support and his head from dizziness. A smile crept to your lips, twinging them as a chuckle crawled up your throat. 

“Do not touch,” his hand went out, “Sorry, lady. I have a girlfriend. And she can bite.” 

Your mouth dropped open, “Hee,” you replied, further approaching him, “What are you talking about?” 

His open palm that faced you suddenly turned into a pointed finger, “Baby?” he questioned, “Baby! Did you see that lady? I told her I have a girlfriend, don’t worry.” His hand came to his chest, a smug smirk meeting your gaze.

Your eyebrows furrowed from concern, helping him slip his arm from the sleeve, “Heeseung, how much have you had to drink?” He just waved you off, dropping the jacket on the floor.

“Two,” 

“Gallons? Babe, you thought I was someone random… in my own house.” 

“Bottles—by myself! Are you proud of me? I’m not your lightweight boyfriend anymore, y/n!” You wrapped an arm around his waist as he stumbled, holding him steady so he could slip his shoes off, kicking them to be sort-of against your multiple pairs. “Babe, have you had Sake before? Because we had an expensive one like two weeks ago, and it was so good for being alcohol. It’s kinda like Soju… Oh! You like the peach Soju, the one with the pink cap! You also like pink! Remember I got you that My Melody plush from Japan? We should go to Japan, It was so—” 

You laughed, interrupting his long-winded monologue. 

Though his voice got softer when he was intoxicated, he by no means knew how to shut his mouth, especially not around you. He could talk your head off all night—whether you let him or not—even if he passed out halfway through. 

“Beautiful.” he finished, “Like you.” 

Now you were the one blushing slightly, “Thank you,” 

“And the cherry blossoms were still blooming. You should’ve been there… I swear, everything reminded me of you.” He was smiling from ear-to-ear as he reminisced his time on the island, “That’s why I took so many pictures! You got them, right?” 

“Of course I did,” His face turned to you, lips inches apart due to the angle. You swear you heard his breath hitch, “And every good morning, and good night, and did you see the fancams from the concert? And didn’t my outfit look hot? And I miss you, and—” 

“I love you.” He confessed breathily, “I’m so in love with you.” 

Heeseung hands you the controller to take over his character. He ghosts his fingertips under your hoodie as you try with no success to aim a shot at one of your competitors. His touch is its own form of gunpowder, ready to set you aflame with the smallest spark.

“You have to focus, babe,” Heeseung whispers in the shell of your ear. He grinds your hips against him just enough to make you whimper, touching the underside of your naked breasts at the same time. You drop the controller onto the floor without a care, letting the character on the screen be shot and taken off the map.

You screw your eyes shut and try to slam harder onto your boyfriend’s cock, but he holds you firmly in his grip. “How am I supposed to do that when I just want you to fuck me, Hee?”

Heeseung chuckles and turns the mic settings on his headphones to mute. The second the screen notifies him the sound is off, he bucks his hips up harshly, making you cry out. His cock is already coated in your essence from the hour you’ve spent sitting on top of him, so the sounds of Heeseung finally fucking into you filling the room are of no surprise.

You spread your hands out on his desk and begin to move, your hips running wild now that Heeseung’s given you free rein. “Fuck, you need to play with me more often,” you joke as he runs his fingers over your clit.

“Just wait until I teach you to play League,” he jests before you roll your hips in a way that has his head falling back into his seat.

If this is the way you become a gamer, so be it.

@gyubakeries @loserlvrss @jjunberry @yvnempire @addictedtohobi @innocygnet @filmnings @lovetaroandtaemin @frenchkisstheabyss

𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 ౨ৎ˚₊: @kstrucknet @k-films @kvanity-main @lapydiaries @moadiarynet @sweetvenomnet @onedoornet @violetanet @deoboyznet @whipped-kpop-creators

Heeseung made it clear when it all started that it was strictly a sexual relationship between you both. Three months of unattached physical encounters proved what he was after. You didn't object to it, because you wanted it in the same way.

But that didn't give him the right to pull you from your conversation with the person you came to the party with, rudely passing over your date with an eye roll before taking you away. And it definitely didn't give him a license to corner you in the small room you're in now.

If he wanted it to be strictly sexual, why was he acting this way?

But all the questions, thoughts, and reservations melt into nothing when his fingers go inside of your underwear and rub against your wet walls, your pussy already soaked from the terribly minimal foreplay.

He keeps his other hand inside your tank top, firmly palming your breast over your bra. "Oh no," he suddenly says with a mock expression of fear, "I think you forgot to lock the door, sweetheart."

You turn to see Heeseung is, in fact, right. You want to smack the growing smirk on his face away. "Shut up," you bark. You're partially agitated, but your mind remains clouded by pleasure.

"You know what that means, right?" He kisses your neck as he presses a finger inside of your cunt, a squelching sound following shortly after. You mewl at the sudden intrusion, wanting more and nothing else. "That means anyone could walk right in and see you like this. Even your little boy toy out there. But you want that, don't you?"

He bites down on your neck, suckling the skin as you try to quiet the moans leaving your lips. "You want everyone to know we're together. Such a dirty girl, aren't you?"

You want to contest his argument. Say it's not true, that you can easily leave any second, walk away and not need him again. That you aren't pleased you struck some kind of nerve in him that made him want to prove himself, if only to you and nobody else.

But you can't, so you don't. Instead, you let Heeseung get on his knees before you and slip your underwear to the side so he can attach his lips to your clit and push a second finger inside of you.

And the idea of anyone accidentally walking in and seeing you both together doesn't matter anymore. If it means you both get to share the end of the night together, semi-public orgasms aside, it may just be worth it.

@gyubakeries @loserlvrss @jjunberry @yvnempire @addictedtohobi @innocygnet @filmnings @frenchkisstheabyss @lovetaroandtaemin

𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 ౨ৎ˚₊: @kstrucknet @k-films @kvanity-main @lapydiaries @moadiarynet @sweetvenomnet @onedoornet @violetanet @deoboyznet @whipped-kpop-creators

⋅˚₊‧ ଳ JAY

mr. park jongseong. the first thought that popped into my head when writing this was the whole “who pays on dates” debates. now, i whole heartedly believe jay is a feminist, BUTTTT there is no way on god’s green earth you’re ever paying for anything while you guys are out together. he gives me strong “i care for what’s mine” vibes, and that extends to finances, regardless of how well off you may be. jay covers the bill everytime, and happily so. there is absolutely NO room for arguments. if you even move your hand towards your phone and wallet he’ll sternly say “no”, without even looking at you. if you try and pull the “i’m gonna use the bathroom” trick, he’ll raise a brow (you know exactly which look i’m talking about) and either walk you there or ask you to put down your wallet and phone first. no, means, NO. even if he’s abroad, he’ll order food for you to arrive perfectly for your time zone so you can eat your meals warm:( genuinely gets offended and pouty if you pay for anything while you guys are out together. he loves sharing this wealth with you, it’s his way of showing you he’s dependable and able to take care of you.

jay has stated that he’s a bit embarrassed to speak english at times (which wtf bby pls just yap we all wanna hear it), but without a second of hesitation this man is ready to speak in any and all languages if it means standing up for your if you need his help. even if it’s something minor like the waiter getting your order wrong, his embarrassment be damned, you’re getting your food spicy!

another thing is how much of a gentlemen he is?? usain bolting to open doors for you. both regard doors and car doors! before you can even twitch your finger to touch a handle he’s already out and ready! expect a lecture if you don’t sit/stand patiently while he spoils you. LOVES having you depend on him. it just itches his brain the right way idk.

last but not least, since you said “yes”, this man’s hand has virtually not left your thigh. it's partially to assure himself that you are safe, but also just takes genuine comfort in having you close to him. also a silent warning to anyone who has the audacity to look at you.

i think jay is a born provider, and he takes pride in being able to perform that roll well! loves it when you let him. he knows you don’t need it, but the fact that you let him take control is such a turn on <3

⋅˚₊‧ ଳ JAKE

jake is your resident flirt, dude even has the typical frat boy name. but with every interaction between you two, it’s clear how much pride he takes in being your s/o.

he knowns how attractive you are and part of him can’t help but want to show you off, whilst also showing you’re his. he’s pretty easy going, never stricts what you wear, who you talk to, nothing like that. however, expect him to put a hand on your thigh whenever he pleases. or better yet, expect him to tap his thigh to get you to sit on his lap. especially if you’re taller/close to him in height, it would reassure him that he’s still got you wrapped around his fingers~. around new people, best believe he will be holding your hand, thumb working over time sooth any nerves you might have. around people he knows, like the members or his friends, expect to still not be off the hook; jake will have an arm around your shoulder when you hangout with other people, and seeing you lean into him would gas him up so bad. jake would only ever introduces you as “my s/o”, “my love”, etc. you are his after all, no?

OHHHH another thing is how he fixes up your clothes before you leave the house! or, how he wipes off your lipstick with his thumb, kisses you, and asks you to pick another shade that, in his humble opinion would go much better with your outfit/complexion. if you listen, it would be on his mind for WEEKS. internally giggling and kicking his feet. on the topic of outfits, he would fix your shirt/bra strap if it’s falling. this isn’t so much an attempt to fluster you, more something he’d just do to ‘protect you’, as he puts it.

last but not least, eye contact. jake is the type of guy to grab your chin and tell you to look him in the eye while talking. thrives off of your flustered expression~.

overall, though he’s definitely got that flirty streak in him, i think he genuinely just loves taking care of you. he loves you so much, seeing you depend on him and get all flustered just feeds his ego, but he’d be willing to do all this regardless~.

⋅˚₊‧ ଳ SUNGHOON

sunghoon is surprisingly self-aware of this stuff. at first, his intention wasn’t to fluster you, but he definitely did ramp things up once he realized you’re into it~. with him, it’s small acts; readjust your clothing, fixing your collar, holding your coat for you and gently brushing your hair back into place if it gets stuck, pulling your chair out, wrapping a scarf around your neck, very mundane things he’d do for you anyways. there, it was easy to blame the frosty winds for your flushed cheeks, but when he hold your hand as you cross the street, and pulls you back when you forget to look left and right, and your reaction is to stare at him wide eyed, cheeks pink, boy oh boy does he take advantage of it.

expect him to not let go of your hand from now on, thumb running over the back of your hand, whether you’re walking or sitting. or better yet, he’ll grab your arm and hold you by the wrist instead of your hand. if you try and let go, he’ll tighten his grip until you tell him where you’re going (not in a weird way, just so you don’t get lost in crowds and such). mr. clean freak would also clean dirt of your face softly with a handkerchief he always seems to carry with him.

people often say he isn’t very express, but i think if you pay close attention to him, it so obvious when he cares for someone and how he’s feeling. to him, he’s able to make sure you’re okay in his own way, and seeing you get so flustered is incredibly fun to him. it’s his way of reminding you that, despite his often unassuming exterior, he puts care into every interaction with you:((

⋅˚₊‧ ଳ SUNOO

i’ve mentioned this before in my sunos f2l headcanons, but i truly believe enhablr misrepresents sunoo. or rather, ignores his more proactive side. sunoo is cute, but don’t let those squishy cheeks fool you, he can and will take charge.

i don’t think it’d be intentional at first; brushing hair out of your face for you, putting it in different styles (eg. attempts braiding it if you're too tired), or just plainly fixing it into place. this extends to your clothing as well: tying, zipping, lacing something for you, be it your shoes, your jacket, or a dress, this man has you covered! once he realises how red you get, he’d tease you relentlessly~. eventhough he’s a younger brother, he just loves taking care of others naturally. this applies to doing your skincare, giving you a bedtime (lmao), and even answering questions meant for you. he likes that, for once, he gets to make decisions and be taken seriously. the fact that you get all blushy is just an added bonus~.

something else i can see him doing is placing a hand on your lower back to remind you to fix your posture. gives you a stern look and will scold you if you complain! he likes how, despite whining and pouting, you listen. unfortunately, people don’t always take him seriously. he’s mentioned on a live before how he wants to stop doing as much aegyo and ‘graduate’ from that identity, so seeing you listen to him and rely on him would make him feel seen and cherished. the fact that you respect him and take him seriously would unlock something in him for sure.

⋅˚₊‧ ଳ JUNGWON

jungown is still pretty young but has been the leader to a group of 6 other people since he was 16 years old. so while i do think his acts would be much more subtle, they’e definitely there if you look carefully!! the most obvious one would be how he asks you to send him food pics. gets upset when you refuse because it means you didn’t eat:( of course if he’d never force you, but it would make him worry. even if it’s just a cup of tea for breakfast he wants to know you’re taken care of, since he can’t always be there to do it himself:( it’s his way of watching over you even when he's not around (also lowkey reminds him he needs to eat as well, but you didn’t hear that from me LOL). if you’re talking to someone he’ll make his presence known without explicitly mentioning, “hey, that’s my partner”. just by the way he carries himself, everyone around you both knows and boy does it get you~.

an exmaple of the more subtle things he’d do would be how he opens things for you. well, duh, ofc you can open a water bottle but like… boom, he’s already done it for you. if you blinked you wouldn’t have caught it~. also does this thing where he grips your waist as he walks past you, or holds on to your wait while you’re walking down a step you both encounter on the street. would also zip up your bag or tighten your hair tie if it gets loose.

for jungwon, because of how young he is, i don’t think he’s super ‘possessive’ quite yet. many seem to believe the doesn’t give off the ‘natural leader’ vibe, but i think if anything, that’s pushed him to work harder. it’s clear he cares for and knowns his members well, and he’s more than capable of taking charge. and the extends to you as well! he cares for you deeply and, despite having the burden of being a leader tied onto his back, he’d still take an immense amount of pride in seeing you get flustered or shy when he does handle things for you. he also just wants to take every opportunity to remind you of his love towards you <33

⋅˚₊‧ ଳ RIKI

oh riki, the lover boy you are…. riki loves silently and owns the non-sexual dominance title imo~. if you watch enha content closely you’ll see he does it all the time! he pays attention to the little things so much, especially in regard to his members, (eg. putting a pillow behind their back, opening bottles for them, remembering their dietary habits, etc). if you guys have access to their hulu japan series i highly recommend watching it, there's a ton of cute moments like that in there!

but back to you;) it’s not often that riki chooses to be confrontational, both from a cultural standpoint and in terms of his personality, i don’t see him picking unnecessary fights. but when it comes to you, he’ll always speak up and defend you! sure, you’re an adult and he really does trust you to take care of yourself, but its more about the principle? say, someone accuses you of something, he’d jump to your defence with “y/n would never do that, they’re not that kind of person”. even if you don’t need him to he can’t help but want to do it. if you really convince him he doesn’t need to speak up for you in a certain situation, he’d still have an hand on your knee or his hand on yours, just to reassure you that he’s still there should you need him <3

riki would love picking outfits and accessories for you!!!! he likes it when you pick out his too, but when he gets to decide about what you’re wearing? his heart does a thing… it’s like, even if you’re miles apart across the globe, you’re out there wearing things he chose for you. it’s his silent mark of love on you. you’d easily be able to tell when he misses you by the frequency of ‘do you know what you’re wearing this week? let me pick it out’ texts. ofc he’d never admit to all that LOL. “it’s not my fault your fashion taste sucks, one of us has to carry the fits and it’s definitely not you. if anything you should be thankful i’m helping!”, emo tsuntsun alert!

oooo another thing he loves to do is the sidewalk thing THOSE OF YOU WHO KNOW KNOWWWW. even if the street is empty, no cars for miles, he’s still make sure you walk on the inside of the road. if you call him out on it, he’d shrug it off with “i’m left handed so i prefer having you on my left side, don’t read into things too much” STFU RIKI WE ALL KNOW YOU’RE AMBIDEXTROUS. similarly, he loves drying your hair after you shower. he says it’s because he hates it when you get the couch/his pillows wet, but in reality his just a sappy mf. another big one is reading things aloud to you. man does it boost his ego if you’re laying on his round couch thingy, head pressed against his arm, hanging on his every word. to those of you who’ve seen the audio book enhypen did a while back or the teaser for the “君と僕を結ぶ星空” (konica minolta planetarium collab) already know how beautiful his voice is <33 and he knows it too! (re: clip of him announcing asmr pt2 KSDJSKDHSKH) but still, actually seeing the way your relax and pout at him to talk just a little bit longer, even if it’s about the most mundane things boosts his ego to no end. it makes him feel needed and wanted:<

in general, riki is a silent lover. it’s okay to tease him every once in a while, but don’t call him out too much. just silently appreciate that he goes out of his way and consistently thinks about you and your comfort <333

nana's notes : two exams left + a group project so i might be a little mia for the next ~2 weeks, but i still have some content to put out:')) sighhh who told me to study physics, right~? there’s an appalling amount of grammar and spelling mistakes in here (probably lol). this is honestly just an accumulation of notes i've taken while consuming enha content so it's a litttle disorganized, i think you can tell by the flow (or lack there of) hehehe. nevertheless, i hope you all enjoy it:)) as always, i'm excited to hear your thoughts!

taglist : open! @kstrucknet @sweetvenomnet

Jake doesn't laugh or flit away the nerves on your face, instead planting soft kisses all over it. He knows he's not your first, nor are you his, but those facts don't completely dissuade a person from asking the obvious questions. He can see them all in your eyes. What if we don't fit sexually? What if it goes in a way that we didn't expect? What—

Jake finally kisses your lips again as he drags your underwear down, the concerns on your mind fading away like fog on a windshield the longer he teases you. He's unsurprised to find wetness pooling at your center when the pads of his fingers touch between your legs.

He quirks an eyebrow up when your whimper into his mouth. You feel foolish in an instant, the concerns you came into this situation with baseless. If you're already this slick with want, he may not even need to prep you at all.

It doesn't stop him from asking, though. "Do you need me to finger you first?" he asks before biting down on your bottom lip.

Your eyes roll into the back of your head as he runs his index and middle finger over your clit, your hips bucking up at the contact. "If you don't want me to last long, then sure."

Jake chuckles and trails kisses down your jaw. "I have all the time in the world, especially to make my girl come."

@gyubakeries @loserlvrss @yvnempire @addictedtohobi @filmnings @g0r3wh0rre

𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 ౨ৎ˚₊: @kstrucknet @k-films @kvanity-main @lapydiaries @moadiarynet @sweetvenomnet @onedoornet @violetanet @deoboyznet @whipped-kpop-creators

As he pushes himself deeper into you, his hands hooking around your thighs to push your legs higher around his waist, you try to remind yourself of exactly what this is. Unattached, no strings to tie you together, basic but mind-blowing sex to satisfy both of your needs.

Yet, you fail miserably. Every time you're together like this, his hips kissing yours so intimately, he looks at you like all he'll ever want or need for the rest of his life is this experience. This moment, shared with you and you alone.

It's unsurprising how much it tugs at your heart, makes you drench his cock in your arousal, and creates the feeling in your bones that this is more than what you promised it would be when this all started.

Unexpectedly, he flips you over so your hands and knees dig into the mattress below you. He slaps one of your ass cheeks, making you arch your back higher and moan unabashedly.

"You look so good on your knees like that, baby." He pulls out just slightly so you feel the full force of his cock ramming back inside of you. He snakes his arm around your waist to pinch your clit with his thumb and index finger. "Does it feel good like this?"

You whimper and push your body back into him. "Yes, fuck." It's like he knows you needing to feel him so deeply it's all you'll feel tomorrow, the next day, possibly forever. You let him grasp your hip so tight with his other hand that you know it'll bruise tomorrow, just so he can give you all he has.

And Jay loves it.

He hopes with all his might that one day you'll look past the lust and realize that he means it when he fucks you with every ounce of passion he possesses. Kisses you like you've captured his very soul, because you have.

Sure, maybe it was sex three encounters ago. But now, he knows he can't have another person the same way again. How could he?

@gyubakeries @loserlvrss @frenchkisstheabyss @lovetaroandtaemin @yvnempire @addictedtohobi

𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 ౨ৎ˚₊: @kstrucknet @k-films @kvanity-main @lapydiaries @moadiarynet @sweetvenomnet @onedoornet @violetanet @deoboyznet @whipped-kpop-creators

Your voice doesn’t waver. There’s no room for doubt. You’ve thought about this long enough.

But before anything can happen—before the process begins—you remember.

You are a wife. A mother.

And yet, standing here in this cold, sterile room, none of it feels like it belongs to you anymore.

You remember the past year—how it changed everything. How giving birth to your daughter should have been a beautiful moment, but instead, it shattered you. You tried. God, you tried. But nothing was enough.

Now, Lee Heeseung, the man you once loved, wants to take full custody. The arguments, the exhaustion, the blame—it all led here, to the edge of divorce, to a life where you are the villain in his eyes. Maybe Heeseung never thought about erasing memories, never needed to. But you?

You have suffered enough. And when you search your mind, the pain outweighs the love.

It’s all bad memories now.

"Alright," the doctor says, breaking the silence.

This is your last chance to turn back.

But you don’t.

Because you suffered after pregnancy depression, the endless sleepless nights, you slowly felt worthless. You lost a lot of weight. You just couldn’t take a breather anymore.

The cold air in the room did nothing to soothe the exhaustion in your bones. You sat still in the medical chair, fingers trembling slightly as you gripped the armrests. The doctor stood beside you, expression unreadable, a digital screen floating in front of them. The holographic interface flickered as they typed, confirming your request.

"Once the microchip is wiped, all memories will be erased. The only information remaining will be what you choose to retain."

"I want to keep my parents’ memories," you said softly.

The doctor nodded, making the necessary adjustments. The rest of your life—every joy, every sorrow, every moment that had led you here—would be gone. But the people who had brought you into this world, who had once loved you unconditionally, would remain in the fragments of your mind.

"Understood. Beginning the process now."

A faint hum filled the air as the machine activated. A sharp, cool sensation spread from the base of your skull, crawling through your head like an invisible force wiping everything clean.

And so, when the process began, you were forced to shut down.

And then—

Darkness.

Your body slumped in the chair, unconscious. The process had begun.

💗₊˚🌷♡︎₊˚⊹౨ৎ        ♡₊˚ 🦢・₊✧🩶.           ♡︎༻🌸༺♡︎

When you woke up, it felt like you were a newborn—but one who already knew how to speak, how to think, how to exist.

Your head ached, a dull throb at the base of your skull, but it wasn’t unbearable. Blinking away the lingering dizziness, you slowly sat up, your muscles stiff from the unfamiliar stillness.

Your eyes wandered around the room. White walls. A clean, clinical scent. The steady beeping of a machine filled the silence.

A hospital?

Judging by the surroundings—the plain sheets, the IV drip beside you, the faint murmur of voices outside—you could only assume so.

Taking a slow breath, you swung your legs over the bed and slipped your feet into the hospital slippers placed neatly by the bedside. The floor was cold beneath them.

With careful movements, you stood. A little shaky, but nothing too concerning.

Your fingers reached for the sliding door, hesitating for just a moment before pushing it open.

A small plaque was attached to the wall just beside the entrance. Your gaze fell on it immediately.

Your name.

Y/F/N.

You stared at it, your mind blank. There was no sense of recognition, no emotional attachment to the letters before you.

Just a name.

Yours. But at the same time, not.

You proceeded further down the hallway, watching as nurses and doctors moved back and forth, their expressions focused, their voices murmuring instructions and updates. No one seemed to take notice of you, as if you were just another presence in the sterile, white corridors.

That was until you reached the counter.

You smiled politely at the nurse behind the desk.

"Hello," you began, ready to introduce yourself—

But before you could finish, the nurse jolted in shock, her eyes widening as she gasped.

"Oh my, you’re already awake! Please wait a moment while I contact your doctor."

She quickly reached for the phone, dialing a number with urgency.

You said nothing, though curiosity flickered inside you. Was it not normal to wake up so soon? Had they expected you to sleep longer?

You remained patient, watching as she spoke in hushed tones to someone on the other end of the line. Her gaze flickered toward you every now and then, as if confirming you were still there.

Not long after, a doctor arrived in front of you, a warm yet professional smile on her face.

"You're awake earlier than expected," she said, studying you briefly before gesturing toward the hallway. "Let’s head back to your room."

You nodded and followed her, your feet moving instinctively even though everything felt unfamiliar.

As you walked, she glanced at you.

"How is your head?" she asked.

You blinked, processing the question before finally answering.

"A little sore, but nothing too bad."

The doctor hummed in understanding, leading you back to your room.

"Why am I hospitalized?" you ask, glancing at the doctor beside you.

She smiles at you, calm and unbothered, as if she’s had this conversation a hundred times before.

"You decided to erase your memories. And so here you are."

She slides open your room door, gesturing for you to enter first. You step inside hesitantly, the sterile air filling your lungs. The room is just as you left it—white sheets, beeping machines, an unfamiliar space that is supposed to be yours.

"Oh."

That’s all you can say as your mind struggles to process her words. You erased your memories. But what did you erase? You try to reach for something—anything—from your past. And that’s when it happens.

A sharp, unbearable pain explodes in your head. It feels like something is clawing at your brain, forcing you down to your knees.

You barely register the doctor's hands gripping your arms, steadying you as she helps you back onto the bed.

"No forcing yourself to remember," she says sternly. "You came to erase your memories, and that’s it."

You nod weakly, pressing a hand to your temple as the pain gradually subsides. The doctor sighs in relief, then picks up a tablet from the counter.

"Let’s take a test, shall we?" she says, tapping on the screen before turning it toward you.

A photo of an older couple appears—your parents.

"Do you remember them and your memories with them?" she asks, her pen pointing at their faces.

You nod without hesitation.

She swipes to the next photo. A man.

"Do you remember him?"

You frown, staring at the image for a long moment. But no matter how hard you try, there’s nothing. No familiarity, no warmth, nothing at all.

You shake your head. "No."

The doctor hums, sliding to the next image.

A baby.

"What about this baby?"

Once again, you shake your head. But this time, something stirs inside you—not recognition, but curiosity.

"But the baby is a cute one," you say, tilting your head. "How old is the baby?"

You look up at the doctor, expecting an answer. But she only smiles, slipping the tablet away without responding.

"Good," she says simply. "This shows that the surgery was successful. You can be visited tomorrow and will be discharged the day after."

With that, she turns on her heel and leaves the room.

You stare at the closed door, a small frown forming on your lips.

Why didn’t she answer?

The next day arrives, and with it, your parents.

Their hair has turned white and grey, fine wrinkles etching their faces with time. Yet despite the years that have passed, you recognize them instantly.

Warm arms wrap around you as soon as they see you, holding you tightly as if afraid you would slip away.

"You’re fine. You’re well." Your mother’s voice trembles slightly, though she masks it with a soft laugh. Your father squeezes your shoulder, his touch reassuring.

Strangely, they never ask why you are hospitalized. They never mention anything about you erasing your memories.

Maybe… you told them beforehand. Maybe they had already come to terms with your decision before you even woke up.

So, you don’t question it either.

Instead, you enjoy the moment.

You talk, you laugh, and for a while, everything feels light. Like the past—whatever it was—doesn’t matter.

At some point, your parents bring out a small envelope filled with old photographs. Your childhood memories, frozen in time.

"Look at this one," your father says, pulling out a photo of a tiny you, covered in mud with the biggest grin on your face.

Your mother chuckles. "You fell into the garden pond trying to chase a butterfly."

"Did I?" you ask, amused.

"You were crying when we pulled you out, but the moment you saw the butterfly land on your nose, you started laughing instead," she recalls fondly.

And at the end of each story, the three of you burst into laughter.

Photo after photo, story after story, you listen, you learn.

These are the memories that remain. The ones you chose to keep.

Time flies past so quickly.

Before you know it, you’re standing in front of your house, suitcase in hand. The place feels familiar, yet distant—like something you’ve seen in a dream but can’t quite place.

Stepping inside, you take a slow breath.

It smells like home.

You move through the space instinctively, your feet guiding you to your bedroom. The moment you step in, a sense of comfort washes over you.

Everything is as it should be.

The same soft scent lingers in the air, wrapping around you like a warm embrace. Your bed, neatly made, invites you in.

You set your suitcase aside, unpacking with ease, though there’s no real attachment to the things inside. Clothes, essentials—nothing that tells you who you used to be, and yet, nothing that feels out of place either.

Once done, you let out a small sigh and collapse onto the bed.

Soft. Familiar. Yours.

The hospital bed was stiff and clinical, but this—this is comfort.

Your eyes flutter shut for a moment.

For the first time since waking up, you feel at peace.

A soft knock on your door pulls you from your thoughts.

"Sweetheart, lunch is ready," your mother’s voice calls gently from the hallway.

You blink, momentarily disoriented, before realizing how much time has passed since you lay down. Pushing yourself up, you take a deep breath and step out of your room.

As you descend the stairs, the aroma of home-cooked food greets you warmly, filling your chest with a comforting sense of nostalgia. The moment you step into the dining room, your eyes widen slightly.

The table is covered with dishes—every inch of it filled with steaming plates of your favorite meals.

Your father, already seated, grins at you. "Come on, sit down. It’s a special meal to celebrate you being discharged."

Your mother nods eagerly, pulling out a chair for you.

Something about their smiles, their warm gazes, makes your heart squeeze. You settle down, picking up your chopsticks, and take a bite.

The flavors hit your tongue instantly—familiar, rich, comforting. A warmth spreads through your chest, and before you can even process it, a single tear escapes and lands on your plate.

Your hands freeze.

Why?

Why does it feel like you’ve missed this for so long?

You quickly wipe your cheek, laughing awkwardly. "Ah… I don’t know why I’m crying."

Your mother reaches out, placing a gentle hand over yours. "It’s okay," she says softly.

Your father simply gives you a small smile before reaching for his own bowl. "That just means you really love your mother’s cooking."

You nod, forcing a chuckle, but the heaviness in your chest doesn’t leave.

At every bite you take, the tears just keep coming.

You don’t even realize it at first—how they slip past your lashes, how they land softly onto your bowl, disappearing into the broth.

You try to keep eating, swallowing past the lump in your throat, but the more flavors burst onto your tongue, the more overwhelming it feels.

It’s warm. It’s familiar. It’s… home.

Yet, for some reason, it feels like something you haven’t had in a long, long time.

Your mother watches you silently, her eyes soft with understanding. Your father says nothing, only passing you a napkin while continuing to eat as if giving you space.

"I don’t know why I’m crying," you whisper again, voice shaking.

Your mother reaches out, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. "It’s okay, sweetheart. Just eat."

You nod, gripping your chopsticks tighter, and take another bite.

More tears fall.

You keep eating, the warmth of the food filling your stomach, but the ache in your chest only deepens.

Every bite feels like a memory just out of reach—like something important slipping through your fingers, no matter how hard you try to grasp it. The more you eat, the more the tears fall, and yet, you don’t stop.

Your parents say nothing, only offering small smiles and quiet comfort. It’s as if they expected this, as if they knew this would happen.

The meal continues in silence, except for the occasional sound of chopsticks against bowls and your quiet sniffles.

When you finally set your spoon down, you let out a shaky breath and wipe your face with the napkin your father gave you.

"That was… really good," you murmur.

Your mother chuckles softly, patting your hand. "I’m glad you liked it."

Your father nods. "You should eat like this more often. You lost a lot of weight."

You blink at him, tilting your head slightly. Had you really? You hadn’t noticed. Your reflection in the hospital mirror seemed fine—just… empty.

Your mother sighs. "Don’t worry about it. You’re home now. Take your time, okay?"

Home.

The word lingers in your mind, heavy and uncertain.

You nod, offering a small smile, even if something inside you feels out of place. "Okay."

But as you help clear the table and wash the dishes, the feeling doesn’t go away.

That feeling stays with you long after lunch is over.

You help your mother wash the dishes, watching the water swirl down the drain as the warmth of the meal still lingers on your tongue. Your father moves to the living room, turning on the television, but you barely register the noise.

There’s an odd quietness inside you—a silence that doesn’t belong.

As you finish drying the last plate, your mother suddenly speaks.

"Why don’t you rest for a bit? You must still be tired from the hospital."

You glance at her. There’s warmth in her smile, but also something else. A hesitation. A carefulness, as if she’s walking on eggshells.

You nod anyway. "Yeah… I think I will."

Drying your hands, you head back upstairs to your room, stepping inside and closing the door softly behind you.

The familiar scent of your space greets you once more, but this time, it feels… different.

Your fingers trail over your desk, your bookshelf, the neatly arranged trinkets. Everything seems untouched, like no time has passed at all.

And yet, you can’t shake the feeling that time has passed. That you’ve been gone for longer than you remember.

You sit on the edge of your bed, staring at your hands.

Why does it feel like you’re missing something?

Like a part of you isn’t here anymore?

You shake your head, trying to push the thought away. No forcing yourself to remember.

The next morning, sunlight filters through your curtains, casting a warm glow across your room. You wake up slowly, your body feeling heavy, as if weighed down by something unseen.

For a moment, you stare at the ceiling, your mind blank. But then, a strange unease washes over you—like you had a dream you can’t quite remember. Something important.

You sit up, rubbing your temples. The faint echo of laughter lingers in your mind, but the moment you try to grasp it, it slips away, leaving only a dull ache behind.

With a sigh, you push yourself out of bed and head downstairs.

The scent of breakfast greets you first—warm rice, eggs, and miso soup. Your parents are already at the table, your mother pouring tea while your father flips through a newspaper.

"Good morning," your mother says with a smile, glancing up at you.

You nod, forcing a small smile in return. "Morning."

As you sit down, you pick up your chopsticks, but the first bite makes you pause.

That ache in your chest is still there. That strange, suffocating emptiness.

Your mother watches you carefully. "Are you feeling okay? Did you sleep well?"

You hesitate, then nod. "Yeah… I think so."

Your father hums in approval. "That’s good. You need rest after everything."

You don’t ask what he means by everything.

Because you know if you do, the answer won’t come.

And yet, as you continue eating, something about the silence in the house feels wrong.

Like it's missing something.

Or someone.

Your parents told you earlier that your company had given you some time off, letting you rest after your hospital discharge. You didn't question it—you simply accepted it. And so here you are, outside in the crisp morning air, jogging under the beautiful weather, music playing in your ears.

It’s supposed to be a normal morning run. Just something to clear your mind, to feel the rhythm of your body again.

But strangely, you find yourself out of breath too soon.

Your legs feel weaker than they should, your chest rising and falling too quickly as if you’ve been running for miles when, in reality, it’s only been a few minutes.

You slow down, pressing a hand to your stomach, confused.

"Why am I so tired…?" you murmur under your breath, shaking your head before forcing yourself to continue.

Maybe you just need time to adjust. Maybe it’s just because you haven’t exercised in a while.

Still, something doesn’t sit right.

As you jog through the park, the cool breeze brushing against your skin, your eyes catch sight of something—a family sitting on a picnic blanket. A young couple, laughing together, and between them, a baby reaching out, giggling as the father tickles her tiny hands.

A sharp pain pierces your chest.

You freeze mid-step, panting, your heartbeat erratic for reasons unknown.

The laughter echoes in your ears, too loud, too familiar.

"Mama!"

You stumble.

Your breath catches as a cold shiver runs down your spine.

Your vision blurs for a moment, the sound of your breathing drowning out the world around you.

Then, just as quickly as it came, the feeling fades.

You blink, shaking your head, willing the strange sensation away.

You don’t understand. You shouldn’t feel this way.

There’s nothing missing, right?

…Right?

You press play on your music again, trying to drown out the unease settling in your gut.

And so, you continue running.

Running away from the ache in your chest.

As you finally reached back home, drenched in sweat from your morning jog, you wasted no time getting into the shower. The warm water cascaded over you, washing away the exhaustion, leaving you feeling refreshed.

You had just finished drying your hair when a loud commotion outside caught your attention.

Frowning, you quietly stepped toward the window, peeking through the curtains.

A man was kneeling on the ground just outside your parents’ house. His shoulders trembled as he pleaded for something, his voice raw with desperation.

Your father stood before him, furious, his hands clenched into tight fists.

Then, to your shock, he shoved the man onto the ground.

"Did she really erase her memories…?" the man whimpered, lifting his head, eyes filled with something unexplainable—grief, pain, regret?

Your breath caught in your throat.

Your father’s voice boomed, filled with anger.

"And whose fault is that?! Now get out of my house!"

Without another word, he turned and slammed the door shut, his entire body shaking.

Your mother was by his side immediately, gently placing a hand on his back. "Calm down," she whispered, rubbing soothing circles on his shoulders.

Your father exhaled sharply, running a hand through his graying hair. "That bastard… after everything, he dares to come back?"

Your fingers curled around the fabric of your shirt, an unexplainable tightness forming in your chest.

You didn’t know who that man was.

You didn’t know what he had done to make your father so furious.

But most of all…

You didn’t know why his broken voice made your heart ache.

A few days after your discharge, you were finally allowed to return to work. Excitement bubbled in your chest as you walked into the office, feeling happy and jumpy. Even though you had lost all your memories of working here, you weren’t afraid to start anew.

You had a second chance. A fresh start.

Stepping into the building, you took in the sight of busy employees, the sound of ringing phones, the scent of fresh coffee lingering in the air. It was unfamiliar yet strangely comforting.

Determined, you approached the front desk and asked where your workspace was. A friendly receptionist pointed you toward your assigned area, and you made your way there eagerly.

As you reached your desk, you let out a small gasp. It felt like it belonged to you. The neatly arranged stationery, the small potted plant sitting in the corner, the sticky notes with scribbled reminders—this was your space.

You took a deep breath, feeling a sense of ownership settle in.

Throughout the morning, you asked your work desk neighbor, a kind woman named Mina, for help whenever you ran into trouble.

"Hey, Mina, do you know my login password?" you asked sheepishly.

She blinked at you before chuckling. "You forgot?"

"Uh, yeah. Just a bit," you said, scratching your head.

Mina shrugged and handed you a sticky note with your credentials. "You wrote this down before you went on leave, just in case. Guess past you was looking out for future you."

You grinned. "Guess so."

The day went on smoothly—emails, reports, short meetings. Even though it felt like your first day, nothing could stop you.

You were back.

And for now, that was enough.

The day went by in a blur—paperwork, emails, small talk with colleagues. Before you knew it, the sun had dipped low, painting the sky in soft oranges and purples. Soon, night settled in, and you found yourself taking the subway back home.

The rhythmic sway of the train was oddly soothing as you leaned against the pole, watching the city lights blur past the window. People around you were lost in their own worlds—some scrolling through their phones, others nodding off after a long day.

When the train finally reached your stop, you stepped off and made your way to the bus terminal. The air was cool, carrying the faint scent of street food from a nearby stall. As you stood waiting for the bus, your phone buzzed in your pocket.

Pulling it out, you saw a message from the hospital:

[Reminder] Please visit the hospital for regular checkups following your memory removal procedure. Your next recommended visit is within two weeks.

You stared at the message for a moment.

A part of you wanted to ignore it. You felt fine—better, even. What was the point of revisiting something you had already erased?

Still, you sighed and saved the reminder, tucking your phone away just as the bus arrived.

Stepping in, you found a seat near the window, letting out a small exhale as you plugged in your earpiece. Music filled your ears as you watched the city pass by, neon lights flashing across your reflection.

Everything felt peaceful.

As the bus rolled to a stop, the automated voice announced the location.

You weren’t really paying attention—until a certain word echoed in your ears.

"Next stop: Blossom Childcare Center."

Suddenly, a dull ache pulsed through your head. It wasn’t unbearable, but enough to make you wince.

Your gaze drifted outside, landing on the small, brightly lit building with colorful decorations on the windows. Tiny chairs and tables could be seen inside, and a few parents stood outside, chatting as they picked up their children.

A childcare center?

What did that have to do with you?

You clenched your fists slightly, feeling an odd sense of familiarity creeping in, yet there was nothing in your mind to connect it to. It was like a ghost of a memory trying to resurface but unable to take shape.

Quickly, you looked away and closed your eyes, pressing your fingers against your temple. It’s nothing, you told yourself. Just an aftereffect of the surgery. Don’t think about it.

The bus started moving again, pulling away from the childcare center, and with it, the ache in your head slowly faded.

You exhaled quietly, sinking into your seat.

Whatever that was… it didn’t matter.

It shouldn’t matter.

Days turned into weeks, and weeks into months. Life carried on, steady and uneventful.

Your parents often commented on how much healthier you looked. Your cheeks were no longer hollow, your body no longer frail. The exhaustion that once clung to you like a second skin had faded, replaced with energy you hadn’t felt in a long time.

"You’re finally gaining weight again," your mother said one morning as she set down a plate of breakfast. "It’s good to see you looking like yourself."

You smiled, taking a bite. "I didn’t realize I lost that much before."

Your father nodded approvingly. "You’re doing well. Working, exercising, eating properly. Keep it up."

And you did.

Your morning jogs became a routine, your stamina improving with each run. At work, you were productive, efficient—colleagues praised your efforts, and even your boss acknowledged your progress.

It was a good life. A simple, peaceful one.

Yet sometimes, in the quiet moments—when you were jogging past certain places, when you caught glimpses of things that felt oddly familiar—a dull ache would settle in your chest.

One day, your boss told you to join him and a group of office workers for an important meeting.

At first, you declined. "I don’t think I have the right to join, sir. I’m just a regular office worker."

But your boss gave you a firm look. "I want you there. Just observe and take notes."

And that was how you found yourself sitting in the meeting room, your fingers lightly tapping against the table as you waited for the client to arrive.

From what you gathered, today’s discussion was about a potential collaboration between companies. It was a big deal, and you couldn’t understand why you, of all people, had to be there.

Your colleagues chatted quietly amongst themselves, some reviewing documents while others straightened their suits. The air was thick with anticipation, but you remained silent, glancing at the empty seats across from you.

Then, the door clicked open.

A group of people walked in, their presence commanding attention.

You sat up a little straighter, prepared to stay professional—until your eyes landed on one of the men.

Your heart suddenly pounded in your chest.

He looked vaguely familiar, though you couldn’t place him.

Tall, well-dressed, with sharp yet tired eyes that scanned the room. But when his gaze landed on you—

He froze.

For a fleeting second, his composed expression cracked, his breath catching as if he had seen a ghost.

You frowned slightly.

Why did he look at you like that?

The tension in the room shifted almost immediately.

Your boss stood up, extending a polite hand to greet the clients, exchanging formalities as everyone else followed suit. But you? You remained seated, unable to tear your gaze away from the man who had just walked in.

The moment felt stretched, like time had slowed, yet neither of you spoke. Heeseung—though his name was unknown to you—was staring, his fingers tightening slightly at his sides as if grounding himself.

It was your boss’s voice that snapped the silence.

“Let’s get started, shall we?”

The meeting proceeded as usual. Numbers were discussed, strategies laid out, agreements negotiated. You kept your head down, taking notes just as your boss had instructed.

But every so often, you could feel his gaze on you. A quiet, unwavering intensity.

At one point, you chanced a glance in his direction. His lips were pressed together, his brows slightly furrowed—like he was thinking, hesitating.

It wasn’t until the meeting neared its conclusion that he finally spoke.

“Before we wrap up…” His voice was smooth, controlled, but there was something beneath it. Something unsteady. “May I speak with Miss Y/F/N privately?”

You blinked.

Your boss raised an eyebrow but ultimately nodded. “If she’s comfortable with it.”

All eyes were on you now. You hesitated for a moment before nodding slowly.

And just like that, the room emptied, leaving only the two of you.

Heeseung exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair before finally meeting your gaze again.

"You really don’t remember me, do you?" His voice was quiet, almost desperate.

Your breath hitched.

“…Should I?”

Heeseung let out a shaky exhale, his hands clenching into fists before loosening again. He took a slow step forward, as if approaching too fast would scare you away.

"You don’t remember anything at all?" he asked again, his voice barely above a whisper.

You frowned, trying to search your mind, but all you found was emptiness. It wasn’t like trying to recall a forgotten childhood memory—it was nothing. A blank space where something should be.

“I don’t,” you admitted, and something in his expression broke.

He let out a bitter chuckle, running a hand down his face. “Of course. You really went through with it…”

Your heartbeat quickened. "What do you mean?"

He looked at you for a long moment, searching, hesitating. You could see the storm of emotions behind his eyes—frustration, sadness, something unreadable.

Then, finally, he spoke.

"You erased me," Heeseung said, his voice carrying a weight that made your stomach twist.

You froze.

The words shouldn’t have meant anything to you. You shouldn’t have felt anything.

But for some reason, an ache bloomed in your chest. A hollow, unfamiliar pain that made your throat tighten.

"I…" You swallowed, shaking your head. "I don’t understand."

Heeseung’s lips pressed into a thin line. He took another step forward, his gaze never leaving yours.

"You erased everything," he repeated, voice softer this time. "Our fights. Our struggles. But also… her."

Something sharp stabbed at your temples, making you wince. You pressed a hand to your head as flashes of something—someone—flickered in the darkness of your mind.

A small giggle. Tiny hands reaching out.

A childcare center.

Pain pulsed through your skull.

Your breath hitched as you looked up at him, your voice barely a whisper.

“…Who did I erase?”

Heeseung watched as you clutched your head, your face contorted in pain. You were struggling, fighting against the void that had taken over your memories.

"You need to stop," he said, stepping forward. "You're hurting yourself—"

"No," you interrupted, your voice trembling but determined. "Tell me. Who did I erase?"

Heeseung hesitated, his throat tightening. He looked down, his hands shaking at his sides. Then, with a heavy breath, he finally spoke.

"Our daughter."

The words barely registered before the pain in your skull became unbearable. A deafening ringing filled your ears, and the world around you tilted.

Daughter?

The image of tiny hands. A small giggle.

A childcare center.

Your vision blurred, your body going weak. You felt yourself falling, but before you could hit the ground, strong arms caught you.

Heeseung.

His voice was calling your name, panicked, desperate.

But you couldn't hold on any longer. The darkness swallowed you whole.

When you woke up, you are at the hospital again, this time, with a doctor standing right next to your bed, smiling.

"Hey, you awake."

"Where am I?" You struggle to talk as you slowly get up from the hospital bed, hand clutching hard on your head.

"Your surgery is successful. Do you remember me?" The doctor asks, and you shake your head no. She nods in understanding before turning toward the door, sliding it open to reveal your parents.

"Mister, madam, here's your daughter," she announces. Then, in a softer voice, she adds, "Be sure not to let her see the people she wanted to erase again."

She steps aside, allowing your parents to enter.

Your parents rush to your side, their faces filled with relief and concern. Your mother reaches for your hand, squeezing it gently.

"Sweetheart, how are you feeling?" she asks softly, her eyes glistening.

You blink at them, feeling a strange sense of familiarity yet distance. "I… I feel okay, I guess. Just a little dizzy."

Your father exhales deeply, running a hand through his graying hair. "That’s normal. The doctor said there might be some disorientation, but you’ll be fine."

Your mother strokes your hair as if reassuring herself that you’re really there. "Don’t push yourself too hard, okay? We’re here for you."

You nod slowly, still feeling like there’s something missing—something just beyond your grasp. But you shake the thought away.

The doctor clears her throat. "She’ll need some rest, but she should be able to go home soon. Just make sure she follows up with her checkups."

Your parents thank her before turning back to you.

"Let’s go home soon, sweetheart," your mother says, her voice warm but cautious.

You glance at them and force a small smile. "Yeah… Let’s go home."

But deep inside, you can’t shake the nagging feeling that something important is gone—something you chose to forget.

A few weeks later, you find yourself sitting across from the doctor once again, the sterile scent of the hospital lingering in the air. She reviews your chart before looking up at you with a calm yet serious expression.

"You reset the microchip in your head for the second time," she states matter-of-factly, tapping her pen against the clipboard.

You stiffen slightly. "And what does that mean?"

The doctor exhales, leaning forward slightly. "It means that if you go through this process a third time, there’s no guarantee of what will happen. You might recover all of your lost memories, or…" she pauses, choosing her words carefully. "Or you might wipe everything—including your parents."

Your fingers clench on your lap. "So… it’s a risk."

"A huge one," she confirms. "Which is why I’m telling you to be careful. Your parents were given strict instructions to keep you away from certain people, and you need to trust them on that. No unnecessary risks."

You swallow, nodding slowly. "I understand."

The doctor watches you for a moment before leaning back. "Good. Just focus on your present life. Don’t let curiosity push you into dangerous territory."

With that, she dismisses you, and you step out of the hospital, your thoughts weighing heavier than before.

Outside, the sun is shining, people are passing by, and life continues as normal. But to you, it suddenly feels like you’re walking on thin ice—one wrong step, and everything you know could shatter.

A few days later, your parents sit you down at the dining table, their expressions unreadable yet firm.

“We’ve arranged for your work address to be transferred,” your father says, setting down an envelope with official documents inside.

Your eyes widen. “Transferred? Why?”

“It’s for your own good,” your mother interjects gently. “The new office is closer to home, which means less travel time for you. It’s also a better environment—your boss agreed it was a good decision.”

You hesitate, glancing at the documents before sighing. You know better than to argue. Ever since your last hospitalization, your parents have been extra cautious, and you don’t want to make things harder for them.

“Alright,” you say, picking up the papers. “I’ll do it.”

Your mother smiles in relief, and your father nods approvingly.

And just like that, you find yourself in a new office, a fresh start once again. This time, however, you can’t shake the feeling that this transfer isn’t just for convenience—it’s to keep you away from something. Or someone.

A few years have passed, and life has moved forward, even if some things remain in your heart.

Standing before your parents’ tombstones, you offer a small, sad smile. The wind is gentle today, carrying the faint scent of flowers from the bouquet you just placed before them.

“I miss you both,” you whisper, kneeling briefly to adjust the flowers. “But… I’m doing okay.”

It wasn’t easy at first—losing them, learning to navigate life alone—but you managed. You worked hard, climbed your way up, and now, you’re the secretary of your company. A position you never thought you’d reach, but one that proves how far you’ve come.

“I hope you’re proud of me,” you murmur before standing up.

Taking one last look, you give a nod of farewell before turning away, making your way toward the city. It’s time to start your day, another step forward in this life you’ve built.

Your boss decided to send you to your previous company, as they needed some help, and you agreed without hesitation, moving your stuff to the company that you had no memory of.

As you stepped inside, a strange sense of déjà vu crept over you. The lobby, the scent of freshly brewed coffee in the air, even the way the sunlight streamed through the large glass windows—it all felt oddly familiar. But you pushed the thought aside. This was just another workplace, nothing more.

The boss of the company greeted you with a professional smile and a firm handshake. “Welcome. We appreciate you stepping in during this transition period.”

You nodded politely. “I’ll do my best as your secretary until you find someone to take the position permanently.”

“Good,” he said, before motioning for you to follow him. “Let me show you to your workspace.”

As you walked through the halls, something tugged at the back of your mind. It was as if the walls whispered stories you couldn’t remember, as if your footsteps had already echoed here before. But no matter how hard you tried to grasp onto the feeling, the memories remained just out of reach.

Finally, he stopped in front of an office space. “This will be your desk,” he informed you. “If you need anything, let me know.”

You nodded again, setting your belongings down on the desk. It was neat, organized, waiting for you to claim it as your own.

A fresh start, you reminded yourself. Even if it didn’t feel as new as it should.

There were a few occasions when you asked your boss about the company’s history and the details of its collaborations over the past few years. Each time, he patiently explained, ensuring you understood everything necessary for your role.

One day, during a casual conversation, you asked, “So, what led to this company’s collaboration with my previous one?”

Your boss leaned back in his chair, tapping his fingers against the desk. “It all started a few years ago, thanks to Lee Heeseung.”

The name didn’t spark anything within you. You simply nodded, taking mental notes. “Lee Heeseung?”

“He’s the one who pushed for the collaboration,” your boss continued. “Brilliant guy, really. He was persistent about working with us, convincing both sides it would be a beneficial partnership. And well… here we are.”

You listened attentively, absorbing the information, but there was no emotional reaction—no flicker of recognition, no sense of familiarity. The name held no meaning to you.

“Awe,” you muttered, genuinely impressed by Heeseung’s influence but feeling nothing personal about it. “That’s interesting.”

Your boss chuckled. “Yeah, he’s something, alright.”

With that, you returned to your work, fingers flying across the keyboard as you organized schedules, reviewed documents, and handled emails. 

One specific day, your boss informs you that you’ll be joining him for a meeting with Lee Heeseung. You nod in understanding, grabbing your notepad and tablet before following him toward the meeting room. 

But when you step inside and see him, something in your chest tightens.

Lee Heeseung.

Your heart skips a beat, an unfamiliar rush coursing through you. His presence is striking, his posture confident as he stands to greet your boss with a firm handshake. His eyes shift toward you, and for a moment, your breath catches. It isn’t nervousness or intimidation. It’s something else—something unexplainable, something warm.

Could this be love at first sight?

The thought makes your cheeks flush slightly, and you scold yourself internally. No way.

Then, as your gaze subtly trails down, you see it.

A ring.

Oh. He’s married.

You blink rapidly, snapping yourself out of whatever ridiculous thoughts had started forming. This is a professional setting. Focus.

Taking a deep breath, you straighten your posture and nod politely in greeting. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Lee.”

Heeseung’s eyes linger on you a second longer than necessary before he nods in return, his expression unreadable. “Likewise.”

With that, you take your seat, flipping open your notes as the meeting begins. Whatever momentary foolishness you just experienced is pushed aside. 

The meeting progresses smoothly. Your boss and Heeseung discuss ongoing projects, potential expansions, and future collaborations. You take diligent notes, making sure to capture every key point, yet there’s a lingering tension you can’t quite shake.

Every now and then, you feel Heeseung’s gaze flicker toward you. It’s brief—almost imperceptible—but enough for you to notice. You keep your focus on your notes, refusing to let your thoughts wander.

When the meeting finally concludes, your boss stands to shake Heeseung’s hand. “As always, it’s a pleasure working with you.”

“Likewise,” Heeseung replies smoothly before his eyes settle on you again. “And you—how are you finding your new position here?”

The question catches you off guard. It’s a simple inquiry, yet something about the way he asks it makes your stomach twist.

You offer a professional smile. “I’m adjusting well, thank you.”

Heeseung hums, nodding slowly. There’s something contemplative in his expression, but before you can decipher it, your boss gestures for you to follow him out.

As you exit the room, you hear Heeseung’s voice behind you—low, almost hesitant.

“You really don’t remember anything, do you?”

You pause mid-step, heart skipping, but when you turn around, he’s already looking away, adjusting the cuff of his sleeve as if he never said anything at all.

A strange chill runs down your spine.

You don’t understand why, but those words leave an unsettling weight in your chest.

The next few days went by in a blur, and soon, your boss approached you with a request.

"Heeseung has a few personal troubles, so he can’t work in the office for now," he explained. "Would you be able to handle his paperwork for the time being?"

Without much thought, you agreed. Work was work, and you were more than capable of taking on extra tasks. Your boss handed you Heeseung’s work address, along with a list of documents that needed processing.

That’s how you found yourself here, stepping into Heeseung’s office. It was neat, organized—though the faintest signs of exhaustion lingered in the air. A few scattered papers, a half-empty coffee cup. You settled at the desk, ready to begin, when something caught your eye.

A framed photograph.

You reached for it hesitantly, fingers grazing the glass surface.

Three people.

Heeseung, standing beside you. A baby nestled in your arms.

Your heart skipped a beat.

You frowned, staring at the image. You looked… happy. Heeseung, too. And the baby—who was it? When was this taken?

A dull ache formed in your temples, your mind struggling to place the memory. But nothing came. The harder you tried, the sharper the pain became, until you finally let out a shaky breath and placed the photo back on the desk.

Before you could dwell on it further, the door creaked open.

"You’re here," a familiar voice said.

You turned, meeting Heeseung’s gaze. His expression was unreadable, but something flickered in his eyes—something you couldn’t quite place.

You quickly stood up, bowing politely. "Mr. Lee, I hope you're doing well. Has everything been resolved?"

Heeseung gave a small, sad smile, his lips parting slightly before he hesitantly nodded. "Yeah… more or less." But he said nothing further.

You noticed the exhaustion in his posture—the slight sluggishness in his movements, the faint dark circles under his eyes. He didn’t look like someone ready to return to work anytime soon.

"If it’s alright with you," you offered gently, "I can handle your workload for now. You don’t seem in the best condition to push yourself."

Heeseung blinked, almost like he wasn’t expecting that. His lips parted again, as if he wanted to say something, but instead, he let out a quiet sigh and gave a small nod. "Do whatever you think is best."

With that, you sat back down, rolling up your sleeves as you focused on sorting through his paperwork. Heeseung, instead of leaving, moved to the couch in his office, rubbing his temple before leaning back against the cushions.

For a while, the only sounds in the room were the faint scratches of your pen and the rustling of paper. Every now and then, you glanced toward him. He was still awake, staring at the ceiling, lost in thought.

You wondered—just for a second—what kind of troubles he had been facing. And why, of all things, there was a picture of you in his office.

After hours of working through Heeseung’s paperwork, night had finally fallen. You leaned back in your chair, stretching your arms above your head before standing up, rolling the stiffness out of your shoulders.

You glanced at Heeseung, only to find him fast asleep on the couch. His breathing was steady, his features relaxed in a way that made him look vulnerable—far different from the composed man you had met in the meeting room.

You hesitated before stepping closer, gently reaching out to shake his shoulder. "Mr. Lee," you called softly. "I’m heading out now."

Heeseung stirred, groaning lightly as he blinked himself awake. His eyes were laced with drowsiness as he slowly sat up, rubbing the back of his neck. Then, just as you turned to leave, he reached out, his fingers gently wrapping around your wrist.

"Can I at least get your phone number?" His voice was soft, almost sheepish. There was something about the way he asked—hesitant, like he wasn’t sure if you’d say yes.

Your first instinct was to refuse. There was no reason for you to give him your number. And yet… something inside you told you it was okay. That this wasn’t just some simple request.

So instead of answering, you watched as Heeseung sleepily laid back down. Quietly, you grabbed a sticky note from his desk, wrote down your phone number, and placed it beside him.

With one last glance at him, you grabbed your things and headed out, the cool night air greeting you as you stepped outside.

A few days had passed since that night, and in the midst of your usual work routine, your phone buzzed with a message.

Heeseung: Hey… I’m sorry for making you give me your number.

You stared at the message for a moment before replying.

You: It’s alright.

You expected that to be the end of it. A simple exchange, a brief acknowledgment, nothing more. But your wish to end the conversation didn’t come true.

Heeseung: Are you at work?

Your fingers hovered over the keyboard. Why was he still messaging you? He didn’t seem like the type to initiate small talk.

You: Yes, I am.

Heeseung: Busy?

You: A bit. Why?

Heeseung: Just wondering.

You frowned at your screen. That should’ve been the end of it. But then another message came in.

Heeseung: Do you drink coffee or tea more?

What kind of question was that? And why now? You sighed, realizing that he wasn’t planning on letting the conversation die out. Despite being at work, you found yourself replying, curiosity sparking in your mind.

You: Coffee, usually. But I drink tea when I need to relax.

Heeseung: I see. You seem like a coffee person.

You: What is that supposed to mean?

Heeseung: I don’t know. Just a feeling.

You shook your head at his vague response, yet you couldn't stop yourself from typing back. Before you realized it, the conversation continued to flow, messages exchanged between tasks, as if Heeseung had no intention of letting silence settle between the two of you.

A few days later, while you were focused on your paperwork, a cup of coffee was placed in front of you. You blinked in surprise and looked up, only to find Heeseung standing there, hands tucked into his pockets.

"You look like you needed one," he said casually.

You scanned the cup before wrapping your fingers around it, feeling the warmth seep into your skin. The aroma was unmistakable—it was your favorite coffee flavor.

Your brows furrowed. You had never told him this information.

"How did you know?" you asked, looking up at him.

Heeseung tilted his head slightly, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "Lucky guess," he said, but something in his tone made you doubtful.

Your grip on the cup tightened slightly. "You don’t seem like the type to rely on luck."

He chuckled softly. "Maybe I just pay attention more than you think."

A strange feeling settled in your chest. Something about his words, his actions—there was familiarity in them, as if he had known you far longer than you knew him. But before you could dwell on it further, Heeseung stepped back.

"Enjoy your coffee," he murmured before walking away, leaving you staring at the cup in your hands, thoughts swirling in your mind.

The next moment, whenever Heeseung had a schedule at your boss’s company, he would always arrive with either your favorite coffee or your favorite tea in hand. It became a habit—one you hadn’t expected.

At first, you thought it was a coincidence. Maybe he just liked bringing drinks for others. But the way he would casually place it on your desk without a word, as if it were second nature to him, made you question it.

You never once told him your preferences. Not in passing, not in conversation. And yet, every time, the drink was exactly what you would have chosen for yourself.

"You're oddly thoughtful," you remarked one day as he set a cup of tea in front of you.

Heeseung chuckled, leaning slightly against your desk. "Is that a bad thing?"

You shook your head, staring at the cup before looking up at him. "No, but… how do you know what I like?"

Heeseung held your gaze for a second too long before he answered with a teasing smile, "Lucky guess."

The same excuse as last time.

Your fingers tightened around the cup. Something about this didn’t sit right with you. There was familiarity in the way he treated you, in the way he paid attention to little details that even your closest colleagues didn’t know.

And yet, despite the questions bubbling in your mind, you found yourself sipping the tea anyway—because, once again, it was exactly what you needed.

Days with Heeseung slowly became too easy, too comfortable. Conversations flowed effortlessly, and he always seemed to know exactly what to say to make you smile, even on the most stressful days.

At some point, you stopped questioning how he knew your favorite drinks, how he always noticed when you were feeling off, or why he lingered near your desk after meetings. It was just Heeseung. And somehow, having him around felt… right.

But then, there were moments—fleeting but sharp—where reality hit you like a slap.

He is married.

You weren’t supposed to forget that.

And yet, you did.

Not always. But sometimes, when he smiled at you a second too long or when he showed up with your favorite drink without you even asking, it was easy to forget. Too easy.

You told yourself it was harmless. That this was just friendship. That you were overthinking it.

But deep down, you knew.

Something about Heeseung felt too familiar. Too close.

And you weren’t sure if you wanted to find out why.

The days continued as usual, with Heeseung seamlessly blending into your routine. He showed up at your office whenever he had a meeting, sometimes bringing you a drink, other times just stopping by your desk with a casual smile.

It was becoming a habit—one you didn’t know how to break.

One afternoon, as you were typing up a report, Heeseung leaned against your desk, watching you with an amused expression.

"You work too hard," he commented, placing a neatly wrapped sandwich beside your laptop.

You blinked at it. "I—"

"You skipped lunch," he cut in before you could protest. "I noticed."

You stared at him, something stirring in your chest. Not many people noticed the little things about you, but Heeseung did—effortlessly.

"Thanks," you murmured, picking up the sandwich.

Heeseung smiled, but there was something unreadable in his gaze, something that made your heart clench.

That evening, as you packed up your things, Heeseung lingered by your desk again.

"Hey," he called out softly.

You looked up.

"Can I take you somewhere?"

Your breath hitched. You shouldn’t. You knew you shouldn’t.

But when you met his gaze—warm, hesitant, pleading—you found yourself nodding.

"Okay."

And just like that, you found yourself following him, the weight of his wedding ring still heavy in the back of your mind.

Heeseung led you outside, where his car was parked by the curb. The city lights flickered in the distance, painting the streets in a soft glow. You hesitated for a moment before finally getting in, fastening your seatbelt as he started the engine.

The drive was quiet at first, the low hum of the radio filling the silence. You stole a glance at him—his grip on the steering wheel was firm, but his expression was unreadable.

"Where are we going?" you finally asked, breaking the silence.

"You'll see," Heeseung replied, offering you a small smile.

Minutes later, he pulled up to a quiet park on the outskirts of the city. It wasn’t anything extravagant—just an open space with benches, a small fountain, and a few trees swaying under the night breeze. You stepped out, inhaling the crisp air, before turning to Heeseung in confusion.

"A park?"

He chuckled. "Yeah. I figured you could use a break. You’re always buried in work."

You frowned slightly but followed him as he walked toward one of the benches. The night was peaceful, the world around you quiet and still.

For a while, neither of you spoke. Then, Heeseung let out a deep sigh.

"I used to come here a lot," he admitted, staring at the fountain ahead. "It’s one of the few places that helped me think."

You tilted your head. "Think about what?"

He hesitated, his fingers clenching slightly on his lap. "Everything."

There was something heavy in his voice, something he wasn’t saying. You wanted to ask—wanted to understand—but at the same time, you were scared of what his answer might be.

Instead, you said, "It’s nice here."

Heeseung turned to you, his gaze softening. "Yeah," he agreed. "It is."

And for a moment, sitting under the dim streetlights with him, you almost forgot about everything else—the office, his ring, the unspoken boundaries between you.

Almost.

The night breeze carried a quiet stillness, wrapping around the both of you as if pausing the world for just this moment. You sat side by side on the bench, staring at the fountain in silence.

"You seem tired," Heeseung murmured, breaking the stillness. His voice was soft, careful, as if he were afraid to disturb whatever fragile peace had settled between you two.

You let out a small chuckle, shaking your head. "Work keeps me busy. It’s nothing new."

Heeseung hummed in response, his fingers idly tracing patterns on his knee. Then, after a pause, he asked, "Do you ever feel like… you’ve forgotten something important?"

Your heart skipped a beat.

The question felt too pointed, too close to something buried deep within you. You turned to look at him, finding his expression unreadable, yet there was something in his eyes—something distant, like he was looking at you but thinking of something else entirely.

You swallowed. "What do you mean?"

Heeseung exhaled through his nose, shaking his head. "I don’t know. Lately, it just feels like something is missing."

Something in your chest tightened. You had no idea why.

You forced a small smile, trying to shake off the strange heaviness in the air. "Maybe you’ve just been overworking yourself. Even you need to rest sometimes, Heeseung."

He turned to you then, eyes locking onto yours, and for a brief second, you felt like he wanted to say something—something important.

But instead, he just smiled. A sad, almost knowing smile.

"Yeah," he said. "Maybe you're right."

The night stretched on, but the conversation never returned to that strange, lingering thought. Instead, you both sat there, letting the silence speak for you.

And yet, as you watched Heeseung staring into the distance, you couldn't shake the feeling that there was something more to this—something slipping through your fingers, just out of reach.

The atmosphere was just right—so perfect that neither of you noticed how close you had gotten. Your breaths mingled, hearts racing in sync, and before you could think twice, your lips met.

It was soft, hesitant, yet something about it felt oddly familiar. But just as you were about to lean in deeper, you felt something wet against your skin. Heeseung was… crying?

Shocked, you pulled away instantly, eyes wide as you searched his face. His lips trembled, and his expression twisted with raw emotion. Before you could say anything, he suddenly wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a desperate embrace.

"I missed you," he sobbed, his grip tightening around you. "I missed you so much…"

Your body stiffened at his words. Confusion clouded your mind. "Heeseung… what are you talking about?"

He didn’t answer, only burying his face deeper into your shoulder. His body shook, his cries muffled against your shirt. You felt your heart ache at the sheer pain in his voice, but no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t recall ever being close to him.

What was he talking about?

You hesitated, your hands hovering over his back, unsure whether to comfort him or push him away. Your heart ached at the way he clung to you, as if you were something precious—something he had lost and just found again.

"Heeseung," you tried again, your voice softer this time. "Why are you saying this? I don’t understand."

Heeseung pulled away slightly, just enough for you to see the tears streaming down his face. His eyes searched yours desperately, as if willing you to remember something—something that remained lost in the depths of your mind.

"You really don’t remember, do you?" His voice cracked.

Your lips parted, but no words came out. Heeseung let out a shaky breath, his fingers brushing lightly against your cheek.

"I should’ve known," he whispered, almost to himself. "I should’ve expected this…"

You furrowed your brows, frustration bubbling inside you. "Expected what?"

He opened his mouth but quickly shut it, looking away. His jaw clenched, his hands curling into fists. Whatever it was, he was struggling to say it.

A tense silence filled the room before Heeseung exhaled deeply. "I can't do this here." He wiped his tears hastily and stepped back. "Not now."

Your heart pounded as you watched him pull himself together. What was it that you were missing? And why did it feel like something inside you was screaming to be remembered?

"Heeseung, tell me," you pleaded, stepping closer. Your voice trembled slightly, but you needed answers.

Heeseung shook his head frantically, taking a step back as if distance could shield him from your words. "No. I can't. I won’t." His voice was firm, yet filled with pain.

"Why?" Your hands clenched into fists. "Why won’t you tell me?"

"Because I don’t want you to remove me from your memories again," he said, his voice cracking. His eyes glistened with unspoken emotions. "I don’t want you to collapse in front of me again."

His words sent a chill down your spine. Again?

Your breath hitched as a distant echo of a memory—blurred and indistinct—tried to surface in your mind. A sharp pain throbbed at your temples, but you forced yourself to focus.

Before erasing your memories the first time, something must have happened between you and Heeseung. Something big. Something painful enough for you to willingly choose to forget him.

You stared at him, realization creeping in like a slow tide. "Heeseung… What did I forget?"

Heeseung said nothing. No explanations, no answers—just silence. Instead, he pulled you into a tight embrace, his arms trembling as he buried his face in your shoulder.

You felt his uneven breaths, the way his body shook as if he were trying to hold himself together. His grip on you tightened, as if afraid that if he let go, you would disappear.

You wanted to ask again, to demand the truth, but the weight of his sorrow pressed against you, making it impossible. So you stayed quiet, letting him cry everything out.

Your hands hesitantly came up, resting against his back. You didn’t remember what happened between you two, but at this moment, you could feel the depth of his emotions—how much pain he carried, how much he missed you.

For now, you let the silence speak for both of you.

A few days passed, and you found yourself learning more about Heeseung. You listened as he talked about his life, his work, and—most importantly—his marital status.

He told you he was married. He had a wife. And a daughter.

You weren’t sure why it made your heart sink slightly, but you brushed the feeling aside. There was no place for such thoughts.

One afternoon, as you both sat in his office, Heeseung suddenly turned to you with an uncertain expression.

"Would you like to visit my daughter?" he asked hesitantly.

You blinked at him, surprised. "Are you sure?"

He nodded, a small but hopeful smile tugging at his lips. "Yeah. I think she’d really like you."

Something about the way he looked at you made it impossible to say no. So, without thinking too much about it, you agreed. "Okay."

Heeseung’s smile widened slightly as if relieved, but there was something else in his eyes—something you couldn’t quite read.

The weekend arrived faster than expected, and you found yourself standing outside Heeseung’s house. It was modest but warm-looking, with a small garden lining the walkway. Heeseung led you to the door, hesitating for a moment before unlocking it and stepping inside.

"Jieun, I’m home," he called out gently.

A small pitter-patter of feet echoed from the hallway before a little girl appeared, her big round eyes staring at you curiously. She had soft features, a little button nose, and—most notably—Heeseung’s eyes.

"Hi, baby," Heeseung said as he knelt down, opening his arms. The girl ran into them immediately, giggling as he lifted her into his embrace.

Then, her gaze shifted back to you. "Daddy, who's that?"

Heeseung glanced at you before answering, "She’s a friend of mine. Her name is—"

Before he could finish, Jieun suddenly squinted, tilting her head. Then, in a quiet voice, she said something that made your breath hitch.

"But I already know her."

You blinked. "What?"

Heeseung immediately stiffened, his arms tightening around Jieun. His expression darkened slightly, but he quickly masked it with a forced chuckle. "Jieun, sweetheart, that’s not possible."

Jieun, however, remained unconvinced. She stared at you for a moment longer before mumbling, "I remember her."

Your heartbeat quickened. There was something unsettling about her words, about the way Heeseung looked away as if trying to hide something.

What was going on?

And why did it feel like she might be telling the truth?

Heeseung let out a small chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck as he turned to you. "Sorry about that," he said, his voice laced with an awkwardness that didn’t quite match his usual demeanor. "Jieun has a wild imagination sometimes."

You glanced at the little girl, who was now completely engrossed in the movie playing on the television. Though the moment had passed, a strange unease settled in your chest.

"It’s alright," you replied, offering a small smile. But deep down, the question still lingered—why did Jieun say she knew you?

And why did Heeseung look so… relieved that she was distracted?

You watched as Heeseung sat down on the couch, his gaze still fixed on his daughter. The way his shoulders eased as he watched her made you wonder—just how much did he love her? How much had he gone through to protect her?

You sat beside him, careful to keep a bit of distance. “She’s really cute,” you commented, hoping to ease the strange tension lingering between you two.

Heeseung smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Yeah… she is.”

You hesitated before asking, “Does she look more like you or…?”

At that, Heeseung tensed slightly. He didn’t answer right away, as if weighing his words carefully. “She looks like her mother,” he finally said, his voice quieter than before.

Something about the way he said it made your chest tighten. You weren’t sure why. You should feel nothing about this—after all, he was married. He had a daughter. But then, why did his words feel heavier than they should?

Before you could dwell on it, Jieun turned around, her small hands gripping the edge of the couch as she grinned up at you. “Aren’t you gonna watch with me?”

You blinked at her, then at Heeseung. He was staring at you again, his eyes unreadable.

“…Sure,” you finally said, shifting your attention to the screen. But even as you tried to focus, the strange feeling in your chest wouldn’t go away.

As the movie played, you found yourself glancing at Heeseung more than you should. He was watching Jieun with such fondness, but there was something else—something almost melancholic in the way he looked at her.

Jieun, completely absorbed in the film, laughed at a funny scene, kicking her legs slightly. She was adorable, and for a brief moment, the atmosphere felt light.

Then, Heeseung spoke, his voice quiet. “She really likes you.”

You turned to him, surprised. “Huh?”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “Jieun. She’s usually shy around new people, but with you… she warmed up so fast.” His fingers traced the rim of his coffee mug, a thoughtful look in his eyes. “It’s almost like she remembers you.”

Your breath hitched. That… shouldn’t be possible. You had never met her before. Had you?

You frowned, trying to recall anything, but your mind was blank. You had no memories of Jieun, no recollection of Heeseung being in your life before your recent encounters. But the way he spoke, the way he looked at you—it made you feel like you were missing something.

Instead of answering, you focused on the movie. “She’s just friendly,” you said, forcing a small smile. “Maybe she likes me because I don’t treat her like a kid.”

Heeseung hummed in response, but he didn’t look convinced. He was still staring at you, searching for something in your expression.

The rest of the evening passed with casual conversations and Jieun occasionally dragging you into her world of cartoons and stories. But when you left Heeseung’s house that night, the weight of his words stayed with you.

It’s almost like she remembers you.

And the worst part was… a part of you felt like you should remember her too.

That night, as you lay in bed, Heeseung’s words echoed in your mind.

"It’s almost like she remembers you."

It didn’t make sense. You had no memories of Jieun. You were sure of it. And yet, there was something strangely familiar about her—the way she smiled, the way she clung to your sleeve when she wanted your attention. It felt… natural. As if it had happened before.

Your head throbbed slightly, a dull ache settling behind your eyes. You took a deep breath and decided not to dwell on it. Maybe Heeseung was just overthinking things. Maybe Jieun was just a friendly child.

But as days passed, the feeling never left.

Every time you met Heeseung, you caught him staring. Every time you interacted with Jieun, she would hold onto you a little longer, as if afraid you’d disappear.

And then one evening, Heeseung broke the silence.

“Do you believe in fate?” he asked suddenly, setting his coffee down as he leaned forward, eyes locked onto yours.

You blinked. “Where is this coming from?”

He hesitated before sighing. “I… I just wonder if some people are meant to find their way back to each other, no matter what happens.”

There was something heavy in his words, something filled with meaning that you didn’t understand. Or maybe you didn’t want to understand.

You forced a chuckle. “Sounds like something out of a drama.”

Heeseung smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Maybe.”

The conversation ended there, but your heart didn’t stop racing.

Something was wrong.

And you were starting to feel that the past you had forgotten—the past you had erased—was slowly trying to catch up to you.

The days following that conversation, something between you and Heeseung shifted.

It wasn’t drastic—just subtle changes. The way he lingered a little longer when you spoke, the way his hand would sometimes brush against yours when passing documents, the way his eyes softened when looking at you.

And then there were the moments outside of work.

Heeseung would invite you over more often, claiming Jieun enjoyed your company. But you knew it wasn’t just for Jieun. The way he’d steal glances at you while she played, the way his voice took on a gentler tone when he said your name—it was as if he was seeing someone he had lost long ago.

One evening, as you helped clean up after dinner, Heeseung stood beside you at the sink, drying the dishes. The warmth of the small kitchen made the air feel heavier, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. In fact, it felt… intimate.

“You’ve been coming over a lot,” Heeseung murmured, placing a plate on the rack.

You wiped your hands on the towel. “You’re the one who keeps inviting me.”

Heeseung chuckled. “That’s true.” He paused before turning toward you, his voice quieter. “But you never say no.”

You glanced up at him, heart skipping a beat at the closeness. His gaze was unreadable, but there was something there—something that made your breath hitch.

“I like spending time here,” you admitted softly.

His lips parted slightly, as if he hadn’t expected you to say that. Then, without thinking, he reached up, fingers lightly brushing a strand of hair from your face.

Your breath caught in your throat.

The moment stretched between you, filled with unspoken emotions, lingering touches, and the undeniable pull of something neither of you could put into words.

“Heeseung…” you whispered.

He smiled—a soft, almost sad smile. “I won’t ask for more than what you’re willing to give.”

Your heart ached at his words. But deep down, you knew.

This wasn’t just a blooming romance.

This was something unfinished, something the past had tried to erase—only for fate to bring it back again.

The next few weeks felt like a dream you weren’t sure you were supposed to be having.

Heeseung wasn’t doing anything grand—no extravagant gestures, no confessions—but the way he treated you spoke volumes. It was in the little things.

Like how he always had your favorite drink waiting when you arrived at his office. How he’d listen, truly listen, when you talked. How he’d reach out absentmindedly, fingers brushing against yours before pulling away too quickly, as if catching himself.

And then there were the moments with Jieun.

She had grown attached to you, always reaching for your hand instead of Heeseung’s when you walked together. Always climbing onto your lap when the three of you sat on the couch. Always beaming whenever you appeared at their home.

One night, after Jieun had fallen asleep, you and Heeseung found yourselves on the balcony, looking out at the quiet city.

“You make her happy,” Heeseung murmured.

“She’s a sweet girl,” you said, turning to him with a smile.

But Heeseung was already looking at you.

Your breath hitched. The night air was cool, but the warmth in his gaze made you feel anything but cold.

“You make me happy too,” he admitted softly.

Your heart stuttered.

It wasn’t a love confession, but it was enough to make your chest tighten. Enough to make you realize that whatever was happening between you two wasn’t just a fleeting attraction.

It was something real. Something deep. Something terrifying.

“…Heeseung,” you whispered.

He took a slow step forward. You didn’t move away.

“I know this is complicated,” he murmured, his fingers hovering near yours. “But I don’t want to lose you again.”

“Again?” The word slipped from your lips before you could stop it.

Heeseung’s expression faltered. It was brief, barely a second, but you caught it.

He swallowed, shaking his head. “I just— I don’t want to mess this up.”

You weren’t sure what to say, so instead, you let your fingers brush against his.

And just like that, his hand closed around yours, warm and firm.

Maybe you didn’t remember the past.

But in this moment, it didn’t matter.

Because the way Heeseung held onto you—gently, yet desperately—made you feel like you were exactly where you were meant to be.

The moment stretched between you, the weight of his words settling deep in your heart.

Heeseung wasn’t asking for an answer, not really. He was simply laying his feelings bare, waiting, hoping. But something in the way he held your hand, the way his thumb brushed against your skin so delicately, told you that he had been holding this in for a long time.

Maybe even longer than you could remember.

Your lips parted, hesitant yet sure. “Heeseung… I don’t fully understand everything yet. But what I do know is—” You took a breath, steadying yourself. “—I don’t want to lose you either.”

His eyes widened, something unreadable flickering in them. He squeezed your hand tighter, as if grounding himself in your words.

“Are you sure?” His voice was barely above a whisper, filled with raw emotion.

You nodded, smiling softly. “Yes.”

The tension in his shoulders melted, his expression shifting into one of pure relief. He let out a shaky breath before pulling you into a gentle embrace. His arms wrapped around you securely, as if afraid you would disappear if he let go.

You let yourself sink into the warmth of his hold, resting your head against his chest. His heartbeat was steady, but you could tell he was overwhelmed.

After a moment, he pulled back just enough to look at you. His hand cupped your cheek, thumb grazing over your skin as he smiled—tender, full of something you weren’t sure you deserved but were willing to accept.

“I won’t take this for granted,” he murmured. “I promise.”

You believed him.

And as he leaned in, pressing his forehead against yours, you felt something stir deep inside you—something that told you that maybe, just maybe, this was meant to be.

The years had passed like a dream, each one sweeter than the last. Heeseung had never missed a single Valentine’s Day with you. No matter how busy life got, he always made sure to spend the day with you—whether it was a grand gesture or a simple dinner at home, it was always special because he was there.

Jieun was growing up fast, already preparing to enter middle school. Watching her grow filled you with a warmth you never knew you needed. And just recently, you and Heeseung had finally held your wedding—a beautiful, intimate ceremony surrounded by loved ones.

This Valentine’s Day was no exception. Heeseung had left early for work, promising to come home on time. You, however, had taken the day off, feeling unusually restless.

The test in your hand trembled slightly as you stared at the results. Positive.

Your heart raced, emotions flooding you all at once. Joy, excitement, a little nervousness—but most of all, happiness.

You spent the day preparing a little surprise, wrapping the pregnancy test in a small box with a ribbon. It was simple, yet it held the biggest news of your life.

When Heeseung finally walked through the door that evening, he looked exhausted but immediately brightened upon seeing you. “Happy Valentine’s Day, love.” He leaned down to kiss your forehead, his smile soft.

You grinned, hiding your excitement. “Happy Valentine’s Day. I have something for you.”

His brows raised in curiosity as you handed him the small box. “A gift for me?” He chuckled, taking a seat beside you before carefully untying the ribbon.

As soon as he opened the box, his movements froze. He stared at the pregnancy test in disbelief, blinking a few times as if making sure he wasn’t imagining things.

Then, his eyes met yours, wide with emotion. “Is this…?” His voice cracked slightly.

You nodded, tears pricking your eyes. “We’re having a baby.”

For a second, he didn’t move. Then, in an instant, he pulled you into his arms, holding you tight. His body shook slightly, and when you looked up, you realized he was crying.

“Heeseung…” You cupped his face gently.

“I’m just—” He laughed, wiping at his tears. “I’m so happy. This is the best Valentine’s gift ever.”

You smiled, leaning into his embrace. “I thought you’d like it.”

He placed a hand on your stomach, his touch gentle and reverent. “Thank you, love,” he whispered. “For everything.”

And just like that, another Valentine’s Day became unforgettable.

In the end, you never got to know why you erased your memories, and Heeseung never told you either. There were moments when you wondered—little flashes of something unfamiliar yet oddly familiar, questions that lingered at the back of your mind. But Heeseung would always smile, hold your hand, and tell you that the past didn’t matter as long as you were together now.

And so, you chose to believe him.

You and Heeseung decided to face the future, embracing the life you had built together once more. Your daughter was growing, your family expanding, and love surrounded you in ways that felt too precious to question.

But in Heeseung’s mind, the truth remained.

He had done everything to win you back, to make you fall in love with him again. And you had—so completely, so beautifully, just like before. Now, you were wearing the same wedding ring that once adorned your finger before your memory was erased. The wedding had taken place at the same venue, with vows spoken under the same sky.

Yet, the one thing you didn’t know—what he could never bring himself to say—was that, on paper, you and Heeseung weren't divorced.

He had never signed the divorce papers. He never could.

Back then, when everything crumbled, when you had chosen to erase your memories, he thought he had lost you forever. But fate gave him a second chance, and he vowed not to make the same mistakes. This time, Heeseung was up for being a better man for you.

So even if the past remained hidden, even if the truth was buried deep in his heart, Heeseung knew one thing for certain.

This time, he wouldn’t let you go.

you honestly couldn’t believe it! the day before Valentine’s Day is when your boyfriend, now ex, decides to rip your heart out and throw it in the shredder. a relationship that you spent putting your all into for three years was flushed down the drain with a simple text message. a part of you should have known that something was wrong, for weeks he had been so distant and withdrawn and constantly swearing that everything was okay. did he meet someone else? did you do something wrong? you laid in your bed for hours with a tub of cookie dough ice cream thinking of the many ways that this day could get any worse. and, of course jinxing yourself seems to be the one thing that is a constant in your life.

you could hear distant knocking on the door of your dorm room, loud pings of text messages coming in over your phone from your friends. they varied from the typical criticism you received when it came to your relationship. ”we told you he was an asshole. why didn’t you break up with him first? you better not be crying over that loser.” and while your friends were right most of the time you just didn’t want to be beat down more than you already were even if it is the truth. you pulled your body out of bed, every step taken felt like it took a million seconds to complete. the loud knocking increased in volume as you neared the door, pulling it open with a heavy sigh.”if you all came over here to make me feel terrible please don’t i already feel like shit.”

your friends gasped, trying their hardest not to crack a smile. they hate that you got your heart broken but they were honestly waiting for this relationship to end months ago. they missed who you were before your ex was the only one that mattered in your life. they missed the weekly sleepovers and days at the spa, deep down you missed all of it too.”of course we didn’t come over here to say i told you so, we came to drag your cute ass down to the bar and don’t even think about saying no. we have a heart break tradition to uphold! we go out, we get tipsy together and then we come back here to sing karaoke!”

it was sort of sad but also funny that out of all of you, your friends had more relationships than you could count on your fingers. you had to admit though the heart break tradition was fun even if you are the one with the shattered heart this time around. they all crowded around you, their arms embracing you and for the first time in a while you felt grounded and safe. that feeling alone was enough to never make you go back to the guy who couldn’t even dump you in person.

you sucked in a deep breath as you soaked in all of the love given to you in that moment. that bound circle quickly broke as your body was pushed back towards your bedroom.”get dressed, put something tight on and nice a pair of heels! we are going to have fun tonight!” you found yourself genuinely smiling as you ran off into your closet. that pain is still simmering in the pit of your stomach. flashbacks of the happy times you and your ex had spent together fueled your drive to not let him ruin this night for you.

you walked out of your closet in a red dress that stopped right above your knees and hugged you tight in the right places. you fastened the straps on your pumps and let down your hair, shaking the disheveled curls loose. you even applied a nice layer of your favorite red chanel lipstick not caring much about how anyone perceived you tonight. this was your first step towards starting anew without a man beside you that didn’t appreciate you anyway.

you confidently walked out of your room, your head raised up high as you slid your purse up onto your shoulder.”okay, let’s do this before i change my mind and crawl back into bed!” you laughed softly as your friends scattered towards the door. this felt right, this felt like everything would be okay even if you had no one to spend that special day with. you ran out of your dorm room, slamming the door shut as you and friends walked down into the town square to the college bar.

of course, it was packed to the brim even on a thursday night no one really had classes on a friday and even if they did no one would pass up a chance at getting a little tipsy and dealing with the consequences of a hangover the next morning. one of your friends tapped her hand against the bar top to get the bartender's attention, a playful smirk on her lips. knowing her you wouldn’t be surprised if she planned on leaving here with a handsome stranger tonight.”can i get a round of tequila shots, salted rim and a lime wedge please?” the bartender gave her a smile of confirmation in return.

your eyes fell upon the crowd, the music bustling through the air, couples enveloped in a shared dance of heated passion. you missed that, you wanted that more than anything. you smiled a bit before turning back towards your friends.”you know you were all right about him. im sorry that it took me so long to realize that he wasn’t worth spending all my time on.” for the first time in years you could actually hear yourself and not the robotic responses you always had prepared whenever it came down to defending him and his actions.

they all just smiled, looking at one another before your shots were placed down on the countertop.”you don’t have to apologize, y/n. we have all been blind and in love before but this is why we always have to preserve our friendships. we are all we have once the love ends.” you each grabbed a shot glass and raised it up high in honor of years of friendships and a big fuck you to every single guy that dared to break your hearts.

you licked the salt off the rim and tossed the shot back, you squeezed the slice of lime into your mouth and instantly regretted it. you weren’t much of a tequila drinker but tonight why not add something new to try to your list? the atmosphere started to feel like it was blurring together, shot after shot you felt your nerves disappear. that liquid courage gave you that boost you needed to start dancing, your hips loosely swaying to the hypotonic rhythm of the beat.

“oh my gosh, how did we not notice that heeseung and the jerk squad were here? you know he’s been staring at you for like ten minutes now.” your friend gently bumped your shoulder with a playful laugh falling from her lips, trying to not make it obvious that you were all looking in their direction. your heart was racing, your mind was spinning, fuck how many shots did you have? and why was the most popular guy in school looking at you? heeseung was the one guy you never had the pleasure of ever speaking to. your ex was the captain of the baseball team and loathed anything that had to do with basketball and especially heeseung.

you honestly chalked it up to the competitiveness of sports, they both ruled over two different worlds but those egos seemed to always get in the way. the instant your eyes met it felt like he found some magical way to take your breath away. your cheeks were heated, probably painted some color of a red that you couldn’t see underneath the dark lights of the bar. you looked away, opting to toss back another shot, your friends already long gone and wrapped up in the middle of the dance floor. you cracked a smile, before the presence of someone else near you made goosebumps rise up on your skin.

“you know this is the first time i haven’t seen you attached to your boyfriend’s hip.” the voice was deep, his words laced with a hint of sarcasm. you slowly turned to face him, your mouth running dry at the sight of heeseung. you’ve always seen him from afar, in pictures, videos and sometimes in passing in the gym whenever you would stop by to bring your boyfriend . . . ex lunch. he was hot in every sense of the word, his muscles showing through his shirt. you felt like your mouth was on the floor, opting to nervously laugh to save yourself from embarrassment.”wow, did i always appear as some pathetic hip magnet? i always thought my friends were just exaggerating. but, we aren’t together anymore so there’s that.”

the instant the words left your mouth it was already too late to take them back. surely, he was just trying to make conversation but it was obvious you piqued his interest the moment you said you were available. you could practically see the wheels in his head turning, a smile gracing his lips as he leaned against the bar top.”is that why you're in the bar tonight? finally single and able to show some skin again? don’t get me wrong, the whole turtleneck and tights combo was great but wow you look incredible in red.”

a part of you wanted to be offended but he was pointing out the obvious. you changed how you dressed because of your ex, thinking that he would appreciate you more if you didn’t show any skin. it took only a single interaction with heeseung to realize how others must have viewed you. you honestly don’t know when the tears started to form but heeseung’s body language instantly changed.”hey, hey don’t cry i'm sorry i wasn’t trying to be a dick or anything. i'm just saying you look really great in a turtleneck and in a dress too.”

you laughed and even though those tears kept falling that raw moment of honesty was something you could appreciate.”it’s not you it’s just that you’ve never spoken to me before and all it took was a few words for you to help me see how fucked my relationship really was. here i am drinking in a bar, something i stopped doing a while ago because it was something he didn’t like. you know that asshole had the nerve of dumping me over text? we spent a month making plans for Valentine’s Day just for him to leave me.” you looked down and sniffled, shaking your head because you probably looked absolutely miserable right about now.”all i wanted was to feel like i was special. i'm sorry i don’t know why i’m telling you any of this.”

if heeseung were being honest he came over here to flirt, knowing that it would piss off your boyfriend, ex if he had found out about it. two captains of different sports teams that just could never get along. to be fair heeseung didn’t care about the aspect of competition they never crossed paths on any court or field but that asshole always had to make it known that the baseball team had the most trophies. he should have been focusing on his relationship but he truly didn’t deserve you in the end. “let me be your cupid. tomorrow i can take you out and we can do something fun and make you feel special. even if that feeling may be short term, you are way too beautiful to be crying, especially over a dick like him.”

was he serious? you found yourself stunned because he didn’t laugh at you, he didn’t get turned off and walk away to leave you wallowing in your pool of tears. he raised his hand up to brush your tears away, an earnest smile spreading across his face.”why would you do that for me? is this some sort of joke or a way for you to get back at him or something?” heeseung laughed at that, it was nice to see. his smile and everything about him was just so perfect and pretty. he shook his head as he pulled out his phone, and opened up his instagram.”i could care less about him and despite what most think about us athletes we aren’t all like him, y/n. let me have the chance to prove that to you.”

your heart felt like it was fluttering, butterflies tickling the inner lining of your stomach.”okay, i believe you. i would really like to spend the day with you, heeseung.” you took his phone into your hand and typed in your username, you finger pressed firmly on the follow button before handing it back to him. you could hear the hushed whispers and giggles from your friends behind you. heeseung took a small step forward, his eyes soaking in your beauty as he pressed a kiss onto your forehead.”ill message you, get home safe okay?” you gave him a soft nod as he walked away to engross himself in a conversation with his teammates.

the instant he walked away it was like you could finally breathe again. did that actually just happen? did heeseung just ask you out? okay, sure it’s just for the day but you were honestly happy that you didn’t have to spend it in bed alone. your friends rushed forward to surround you, one paying off the tab before they all started to ramble at once.”okay, what the fuck! heeseung was talking to you! what happened? what did he say? spill it tell us everything!” you took the chance to spare one more glance at him and once again he was staring right back at you. he shot a playful wink in your direction as your friends pulled you out the doors of the bar.

the cool night air hit your skin and wow, getting dumped honestly didn’t seem to hurt that much anymore.”he came over to compliment my dress and i made a fool of myself. i cried and told him about what happened. i thought he was going to laugh in my face and walk away. but, he fucking asked me out! he wants to spend the day with me tomorrow!” you squealed as the reality of it all started to set in. all of you couldn’t stop laughing and smiling, you had the intention of getting wasted and falling asleep at the end of the night. but this turn of events was much better than want you had planned.

“okay, forget karaoke, you need to go get some rest for your date tomorrow! and then you have to tell us everything we want descriptive details! gosh, i can’t believe you caught the eye of two captains!” your friend laughed and squeezed your shoulder in an act of comfort. you all exchanged goodbyes as you reached your dorm. the time melted together because you don't even remember when you got upstairs but damn that was the best night of sleep you had gotten in awhile.

you awoke the next morning feeling lighter than you had the night before. you didn’t feel like you had to worry, or stay in bed and cry over someone you should have let go months ago. you were always so in love with the idea of love that you were willing to sacrifice who you were at heart to keep someone who only appreciated you in private. a soft sigh passed your lips as you smiled, leaning over to grab your phone, your eyes lighting up at the notification from heeseung.

@theheeseung_official: hey, good morning! wear something pink for me, yea? i have a surprise for you. ill be waiting at the fountain near the square.

@sosunkissed: something pink? gotcha. also, thank you again heeseung, you really didn’t have to do this for me.

@theheeseung_official: don’t thank me, i wanted to. 🩷

you checked the time and smiled as you pushed back the covers and crawled out of the bed. it was nine am, which gave you plenty of time to tear through your closet to find someone cute to wear for your date. the weather was a little crisp today, not too cold to wear a coat but cool enough to get away with wearing a cute sweater. you picked through every item that you deemed cute enough for a date. it looked like a tornado ripped through your room with the different articles of clothing scattered across the floor by the time you were done.

you did a twirl in the mirror, as you finally picked the perfect outfit. you settled on a light pink fuzzy sweater, with a pink and white pleated skirt with white and pink trimmed thigh high socks with a pair of light pink uggs to match. your eyes darted over to the wall, the clock striking 10:30 am. did it really take you an hour and half to find an outfit? you laughed softly to yourself as you stripped out of your outfit and laid it out neatly on your bed.

you ran into the bathroom to shower, singing along to your “soft mellow vibes” playlist. you scrubbed your body clean with a sweet vanilla scented body wash. minutes passed as you rinsed off and stepped out onto the shower mat. the overhead fan clearing out the steam as you dried off and rushed to do your hair. you settled on a cute ponytail, leaving out a few strands of hair to cascade along the sides of your face. you pulled out your makeup brushes, rubbing moisturizer on your skin before you dolled yourself up with a soft glam look. you finished with a nude lipstick with hints of pink in the base, a genuine smile spreading across your lips at how satisfied you were with the result.”perfect, you look great, you got this!”

it was damn near 11:30 am by the time you exited the bathroom, you rushed around your room putting on lotion as you prepared your purse for the day. you honestly weren’t expecting to have sex tonight but that didn’t stop you from putting on a matching black panty and bra set. you slipped on your skirt, sweater, socks and boots before finishing your look off with spurts of a flowery perfume. you sucked in a deep breath as you grabbed your purse and gave yourself one last pep talk before leaving your dorm.”this day will be great, let yourself have fun.”

by the time you made it down to the town square it was already filled with couples in matching outfits and taking pictures together. you stopped alongside the fountain, waiting patiently for heeseung to arrive. you were only a few minutes early but that didn’t stop you from being anxious about being the only person alone here. thankfully you didn’t have to wait for long, heeseung finally came to view and wow he looked even more handsome in the daylight.

he approached you with a bouquet of pink tulips a warm smile gracing his lips as he looked you over from head to toe.”wow, y/n you look beautiful, you always look great but you know i always had to keep that to myself.” he laughed softly as he handed you the bouquet of flowers, it didn’t take you long to bring them up to your nose, inhaling the fresh scent. “thank you, and you look handsome as always. i see why you told me to wear pink, you wanted to match with me, huh?” you giggled softly as you playfully nudged him in his side with her elbow.

you could spot the light pink hue rise up over his cheeks at your compliment, if only he knew how he was making you feel on the inside. you were internally freaking out but somehow you were managing to keep it all together in front of him.”i thought it would be something you’d like besides i bought this sweater awhile ago and haven’t had the chance to wear it yet.” he smirked as he interlocks his fingers with your own, sparing you a glance before leading you through the square.”ready to have some fun?”

you practically beamed, giving his hand a firm squeeze and nod as he whisked you away. there were so many people around the two of you but in your mind this world was only occupied by you and him. the two of you walked hand in hand, playing the usual game of “getting to know” one another. from favorite snacks, to colors, favorite tv shows and even the games you both liked to play. conversations like this didn’t occur often with your ex, they used to but after awhile it seemed like he never cared about what you liked and enjoyed.

heeseung brought you to the first stop on his “special day” list, a beautiful art gallery that you always wanted to go to but never had the chance to. “when i went home last night i was looking up places that had anything special dedicated to the day of love and saw that some local artists in the area were going to have some art up on display. i thought you might like it.” and there was that smile again, so pretty, so wide and captivating, you absolutely loved it. you almost felt like crying because wow he took the time to plan something out even if it was last minute. “it’s perfect, heeseung. thank you.”

your grip on his hand tightened as you walked through the gallery, admiring the unique pieces that lined the walls. the various shades of pink, red and white looked so vibrant and painted a perfect perspective of love. you pointed out your favorites, the smile that was temporarily obscured was now shining bright. your eyes remained on the artwork but heeseung couldn’t take his eyes off of you. ever since the first time he saw you on campus he was captivated not just by your beauty but also by how smart and dedicated you were. of course, he kept his distance you had a partner and while he used to be one of those guys that wrecked relationships that wasn’t the person he wanted to be anymore.

he watched and admired you from afar even when you thought he wasn’t looking. every class you shared together he listened to you speak and wished that he could talk to you someday. but, now that his “competition” wasn’t in the way he wasn’t going to let this opportunity go to waste. even if it were for just a day, he would cherish every minute spent with you. by, the time the two of you reached the last painting he could see how happy you were. he took a mental picture of that smile, storing it in the back of his mind for later. your sweet voice pulling him back to reality.”this was so much better than laying in bed all day. everything is so beautiful and different.”

you looked up at him and smiled, his gaze meeting your own.”good, im glad you liked it but now we have a few other places to see before the day is over.” your eyes lit up at that, your feet naturally following as the two of you walked out of the gallery. the best part of living in a town near campus was that anything you wanted to see or visit was always within walking distance. the two of you visited the aquarium next, you could tell how excited he was to tell you random facts about sharks and beluga whales. you both shared laughs and smiles, pointing out the animals you had loved the most and the ones you were the most curious about.

the time ticked on but it still felt like everything was going in slow motion, you wanted to savor every second and minute the slight worries of this day not going well leaving your mind. you spent three years attached to someone who never wanted to humor you with topics about animals and nature. heeseung genuinely seemed excited to unload every single thing he loved and you admired how easy it was for him to open up and communicate with you. it honestly highlighted your own bias about him, you assumed that all popular athletes were the same. that they only cared about sports, getting laid and cheating on exams.

“you know i was wrong about you, heeseung. i always thought that most athletes were all the same. you know the type that were douchebags who cared about the status quo and only wanted to fuck around and harass people to do their work for them.” you were being real and honest and definitely didn’t didn’t expect him to laugh about it. he shook his head and smiled as he looked down at your hands interlocked together.

he brought them up to his lips and pressed a kiss onto your hand.”thank you for giving me the benefit of the doubt, believe it or not though i used to be that way freshman and sophomore year but after awhile i felt like it was just time to grow up. at some point it was fun feeling like i was on top of the world but it got old quick i didn’t care about any of it anymore. i love basketball, i love my friends and partying sometimes but that’s about it.” you kept up with every word as he spoke, his raw honesty opening your eyes to how easy it is to speak to someone that realized the error of their ways.

the last place he took you was the park, the sun finally started to set over the water on the lake. the two of you found a bench to sit on, his hands boldly gripping your hips to pull you down onto his lap.”don’t get your skirt dirty, besides my lap is the best seat ever i promise.” you laughed softly as you made yourself comfortable on his lap. you sat there in silence for a moment, the rapid sounds of your hearts beating in unison filled your ears. you turned to look at him.”this day has been the best day that ive ever had and i can’t even begin to tell you how much i appreciate you, heeseung.”

you could tell that he was trying to form the words to reject your thank you, everything he did today came from the heart, it came from a place of want because all he’s ever wanted was to be seen by you. he wrapped his arms tightly around your frame, pulling you close as he leaned forward. he looked down at your lips before he asked the question he had been dying to ask all day.”can i kiss you, y/n?” you smiled at the question because you were dying for him to ask it all day. you brought your hand up to cup his cheek, closing the distance as you confidently captured his lips in a passionate kiss.

it felt like the stars had aligned to place the two of you together in that moment, his lips were soft, and the sweet taste of your lipstick on his own made your insides warm. his hands carefully held you against his chest, not wanting to be too forward or make you uncomfortable. you honestly didn’t want this night to end and it made you happy to know that he didn’t feel the same. he was reluctant to break the kiss, but couldn’t stop smiling as he pulled away.”would you be mad if i said i didn’t want this night to end just yet?”

you looked down for a moment and smiled as you tried to pull yourself together, shaking your head as you leaned forward to press a kiss onto his cheek.”i don’t want this night to end either.” that’s all he needed to hear before he scooped you up into his arms, you both laughing as you held onto your flowers. he held you tight in his arms as he carried you all the way back to his apartment off campus. he placed you down on your feet as he pulled out the key and unlocked the door.”after you, beautiful.” he chuckled as he pushed the door open. you playfully curtsied before you walked through the door, removing your boots and placing them off to the side.

the lights flickered on and for some reason that familiar bias about men and cleanliness flooded your mind, this place was absolutely spotless. you giggled softly as you walked in and looked around, everything was so neat and the decor? it actually matched.” if you are impressed the lady down at the furniture store picked everything out for me.” he laughed as he walked into the living room, turning on the tv before he strolled into the kitchen.

“kudos to her because she has impeccable taste.” you beamed as you walked over to the sofa and plopped down onto the cushions. he walked back over and joined you, passing a bottle of water in your direction. it didn’t hit you until now that you both were finally alone together. he turned on the tv and put on a random movie, you could say he was just as anxious as you were or more likely probably holding back. the lights were dimmed and of course a heated scene of intimacy had to play on the screen.

you rubbed your hands along your thighs, nervously tugging on the fabric of your skirt. was it weird that you were expecting him to make a move on you? maybe he’s trying to respect your space but for the first time in a long time you had this burning desire to have sex. you can do this, if he rejects you can just run out of here embarrassed that you read the signs wrong.

the couple on the screen was doing exactly what you wished the two of you were doing. every kiss seemed to be so deep and passionate, driven by lust and desire, that’s exactly what you wanted. you sucked in a deep breath before you boldly crawled over to straddle his lap. his eyes widened not because he minded the action but because he just wasn’t sure what you wanted, at least not until now. “heeseung, i want you more than ive ever wanted anyone before and you can totally say no and i would understand.”

he just looked at you with a smile on his face, his hands moved down to your hips to pull you forward.”are you kidding? ive been hard since we walked through the door i just didn’t want to do anything that you didn’t want to do, y/n.” he leaned forward to press a kiss onto your lips, it was hungry, deep, passionate just like how you wanted it. your hips rolled into him, pulling a muffled groan from his lips. it made your mind fuzzy feeling how hard he was in his jeans. you tugged at his shirt, it didn’t take any more words to the guide the next series of events.

fabric by fabric, piece by piece articles of clothing were flying across the living room. he sat there bare chested in a pair of boxers and you hot and wet in your panties and bra. he moved his hands down to cup the back of your thighs, he got up onto his feet as he carried you down the hall to his bedroom. every step of the way your lips were locked, stuck like magnets. your hands couldn’t stop exploring his chest, every perfectly cut muscle felt like sweet hot lava under your touch.

he gently laid you down on his bed, reluctantly breaking the kiss. he reached over to open the drawer to his bedside table, pulling out a condom before he made himself comfortable in between your legs. he wanted you to feel every inch of his cock pressing firm against your panties. your teeth dug into your bottom lip lightly as you squirm underneath him, embarrassed at how wet you were for him.”please, i want this, i want you.”

he gave you soft knowing smile, his hands moving to slid underneath your back, unclip your bra. he gently pulled it down your arms and tossed it onto the floor as you impatiently pushed your panties down and off your legs. he wanted nothing more than take his time but cock ached to be inside of you. you watched him as he removed his boxers, and fuck, was he huge, thick, veiny and curved you could practically feel the stretch and burn already and you yearned for it.

he tore open the condom, his eyes never leaving your own as he stroked himself slowly before placing the rubber across the top of the head. he hissed as he rolled it down his shaft until it fit snuggly at the base. he dropped forward onto one of his forearms, as he guided the head towards your entrance. shaky breaths being shared between the two of you as he slowly rolled his hips forward. his head dropping down onto your chest as you both moaned. your hands cradling him against your breasts, fingers needing something to dig into.

your breath hitched as inch by inch his cock sunk inside of you, carving a comfortable home for itself. you could feel the way he twitched, his own soft whimpers and whines making your walls squeeze him tight. words were no longer shared from that moment on. the two of you communicating with your bodies with what the two of you had wanted. he raised his head up as his hips advanced forward in a long, languid motion, his bottom lip quivering as he tried to keep himself grounded.

the shared symphony of moans was something you wish you could have recorded and put on replay. you relished every second that passed by as he fucked you hard and deep but kept that sweet gentle pace. every roll of his hips made everything so euphoric, your moans growing louder in volume you could care less about anyone that could possibly hear you. he littered your breasts with kisses and gentle bites, leaving a lasting presence of marks on your skin.

your bodies moved as one, using each other to fill up that bar that would eventually grace you two with a sweet orgasm. your hands dragged down his back, nails scratching along his skin. he groaned and hissed, pulling back slightly just to watch how your pussy sucked him in. you wrapped around him like a custom glove, you gave him that feeling of pleasure that he never thought he could feel before. you both were trying your hardest to make this last but you were so close to seeing that sweet haven of bliss.

“harder, heeseung, please. . .” those words were exactly what he wanted to hear at that moment, he pulled your legs up to gently press them into your chest. he moved up onto his knees, keeping himself buried deep as he fucked you harder. sweat sliding down the creases of his chest, skin slapping together echoed within the room. he moved his hand down to play with your clit, watching you wither and moan was driving him crazy. the tighter your walls had gotten, his resolve slowly started to disintegrate.

his fingers pinched and rubbed at your clit, your back arching slightly off the bed his hips snapping forward, hitting your sweet spot, over and over again. you moans turned into low screams, your vision blurred, flashes of white glossing over. you gasped as your walls sucked him in deep, before you finally came.”h-heeseung. . . “ you said his name over and over again until he came.

You giggle into the blanket and turn your body. You look at your boyfriend rather than stare up at the stars with him, admiring the side profile the gods graced him with. Sparse freckles across his skin, a strong jawline, the list could go on.

A list almost as long as the bucket list on Heeseung's phone. Item #5 is to find a major constellation, and you have to admit, it's an easy one to check off if he did happen to find Ursa Major tonight.

Heeseung wraps you up in his arms as he looks over the diagram of the constellation yet again. All the while, you mumble into his denim jacket,"Y'know, I don't think I've ever felt safer than when I'm in your arms."

His only responses are a dimpled grin and a kiss to the top of your head. "So, it has the right composition. I'm checking it off." He makes a point to open his bucket list and press the empty circle on his screen, the line item immediately crossed out once he does so. "There." He pokes his tongue out at you, and you retaliate by snatching his phone from his fingers.

You thought you had seen the entire thing, but one item stands out amidst the sea of items such as "#40. Go bungee jumping" and "#52. Eat a dozen deviled eggs." It's one you did not notice before, but it's one of the spare few that is crossed out.

#65. Fall in love.

You grin and turn back to Heeseung, his ears and cheeks crimson. "Is this your covert way of telling me you love me?"

"You can say that."

You leave the rest of the conversation alone, comfortable in the quiet affirmation he feels the way that you do. And, with time, you fall asleep in Heeseung's warm arms under the stars.

And you may not remember it—which Heeseung probably hopes you don't—but he whispers the words in your hair, "I can hardly wait to put a ring on that finger."

@gyubakeries @loserlvrss @yvnempire @addictedtohobi

𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 ౨ৎ˚₊

@kstrucknet @k-films @kvanity-main @lapydiaries @moadiarynet @sweetvenomnet @onedoornet @violetanet @whipped-kpop-creators

You can't think of any other way to be than this, his perfect doll to show off to his friends who wish they were him.

And he bets they would kill to be in his position right now, his fingers stuffed inside of you in the immaculate restaurant bathroom. He paid a waiter to look the other way and watch for any other potential customers so he could fuck you without interruptions, and Sunghoon knows even the mousy kid wishes he could find someone as beautiful as you to do with as he pleases.

But fuck him. You're Sunghoon's, and nobody else's.

"Please, Daddy, I want to come so bad," you mewl into Sunghoon's mouth, gripping his forearm hard as he continues to pump his digits into you.

"Not yet, sweetheart. I want to be inside of you when that happens." Sunghoon takes his index and middle finger out to wipe clean before he tugs at his belt buckle. "Lucky for you, I can't say no to you, baby."

@gyubakeries @loserlvrss @yvnempire

𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 ౨ৎ˚₊

@kstrucknet @k-films @kvanity-main @lapydiaries @moadiarynet @sweetvenomnet @onedoornet @violetanet @whipped-kpop-creators

"I can help you—all that shit looks pretty heavy," Jungwon says meekly as he follows, trying his best to be polite as you stare daggers at him. Don't slow down. If anything, you continue to powerwalk, hoping he'll give up.

"You don't have to pretend you care," you bark, yanking the backpack tighter on your shoulder and gripping your books so hard your knuckles turn white. He had no right, none whatsoever, so why did he give a fuck.

"Hey, I do care."

"Says the guy who had one foot out the door the entire time we were together." You huff sarcastically and stop altogether, making Jungwon almost trip over his sneakers. "Save me the pity and go find someone else to fuck over."

While his eyes turn down and his mouth remains open, unable to say anything, you don't give him the ability to respond. You dart in the other way to your class and hopefully away from Jungwon forever.

The campus may not be incredibly large, but you'll take another route tomorrow if it means you never see his face again.

@gyubakeries @loserlvrss @yvnempire

𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 ౨ৎ˚₊

@kstrucknet @k-films @kvanity-main @lapydiaries @moadiarynet @sweetvenomnet @onedoornet @violetanet @deoboyznet @whipped-kpop-creators

You discuss the company’s newest merger with Jake, Jay’s CFO, and Jake makes a sensual joke that causes you to giggle into your champagne flute. Jay seemingly materializes from thin air next to you, wrapping his arm across your back and staring daggers at his friend. “Sim, please excuse us for a second.”

Jay pulls you to the wall to ceiling glass windows on the other side of the ballroom and hisses in your ear, “You keep acting like a little brat and I'll take you over my knee right here, I don't care how many people are watching.”

You roll your eyes and drink more alcohol from your flute, but he takes the wrist holding your glass in his hand. “So, this is how you want to play it tonight?”

Tonight, you decide to test his limits for pushing you to the precipice of anger.

And now, splayed out on your stomach on his desk with palm prints on your ass and his dick buried inside of you, you realize his anger is just as amplified as yours.

“Do you want him now, huh? Think anyone else can give you what I can?” A loud smack and your subsequent moan hits the air.

“No, Seongie, never,” you plead.

You know the two of you are able to make as much noise as you want in his soundproofed room, muted from the inside for this exact reason, but you think Jay may be pushing you so someone could try to hear exactly what you both are doing.

He wants to prove to everyone in the building who you belong to, and why you’ll always choose him over anyone and anything. No matter how angry the two of you become at one another, it'll always come back to this.

@gyubakeries @loserlvrss @yvnempire

𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 ౨ৎ˚₊

@kstrucknet @k-films @kvanity-main @lapydiaries @moadiarynet @sweetvenomnet @onedoornet @sayxonet @violetanet @svthub @whipped-kpop-creators