#{evan}

It’s in the way he’s always just had to be a step ahead of you. Like that time in the fifth grade when your teacher held a mock election for your government lesson, and he’d deliberately ran against you with the sole intention of annoying you. And when he won, he didn’t even do any of the things he’d promised! All he did was pass out whiteboards, and he always made sure to give you the one with the annoying black scribbles on them.

You went through high school like that, with him constantly one upping you in everything you did. He’d even almost beaten you for valedictorian, but you scored two and a half points higher than him on your AP Physics final and the spot was rightfully given to you. 

He didn't even seem mad about it, which made the entire thing even more infuriating. He’d spent years trying to prove he was better than you and didn't even flinch when it all amounted to nothing? What a tool.

University was supposed to be an escape. Not just from the mean high school girls and the boring small town you came from, but from him as well. You’d finally be able to breathe without him constantly hovering, you’d finally be able to relax without the constant worry that he was going to do something to ruin it.

So when you walked into your first day of classes at Decalis University, fully expecting to see no one familiar, you can imagine your absolute horror to see him sitting front and center like he owned the place.

He was already making good conversation with your professor, you could tell by how the older man was talking so admittedly with his hands and smiling like he couldn’t get enough of whatever it was Heeseung was talking about. 

That’s the thing about Heeseung, everyone around you always seems to think he’s this perfect, charming guy. They don’t see what he really is, not like you do. You seem to be the only person he decides to be his actual evil self with. Why he chose you, you aren’t entirely sure. You don’t think you ever will be.

But that was six months ago, and despite the giant Heeseung shaped stain on your university experience, the entire thing has been significantly better than high school. You don’t see him as much for starters, and when you do he seems too busy to actually try and annoy you. Not for a lack of trying though—those first few months were torture.

You’ve got an eight am class today, which means you have an excuse to make a stop at the coffee shop on campus. It’s right next to your dorm which is insanely convenient and definitely bad for your health, but you're a freshman in college. You don’t think you could name a single person who isn’t surviving off of cheap coffee and gas station noodles.

The line is long, which wouldn’t normally be an issue, but you’re running late and your professors decided he'll dock a letter grade for every tardy. You haven’t had to go through that pain yet, and you really don’t want to change that now.

You rock back and forth on your feet uncomfortably, the line seeming to move slower and slower. You almost consider saying fuck it and just going to class, but then you remember that you’re running off of two hours of sleep and decide you’d rather not fall asleep during your lesson.

It takes another ten minutes before you place your order, and then you’re solemnly waiting off to the side and trying to act like your nerves aren’t tangling up in your stomach.

“Long line, huh?”

You tense. You recognize that voice, and when you look up, the face that accompanies it is enough to ruin your entire morning more than it already has been. So much for not bothering you.

Sharp cheekbones, messy dirty blonde hair, big, beautiful shit brown eyes.

Your eyes narrow, lips curling downwards. At this point, you’re starting to believe your body's natural reaction to Lee Heeseung is immediate disdain. “Why are you talking to me?” You ask bluntly. No point in small talk with him, especially when you know he’s just trying to get under your skin by speaking to you.

He laughs, teeth on display as he does. “Are you this hostile with everyone when you first wake up?”

“Only people who annoy me.”

“I just made an observation, why would that annoy you?”

You shoot him a glare, crossing your arms over your chest. He knows exactly what he’s doing–he always has. His innocent act may work on every other person in this university, but not you. You know Heeseung, you know that getting under people's skin is his favorite pastime. You just wish you understood why he loves to do it to you specifically.

“Can you just…not? You know what you’re doing.”

“I promise I don’t.” The smirk threatening to break onto his lips says otherwise.

You take a deep breath and choose not to play into his game anymore. It’s pretty easy actually, because the barista calls out your name and you practically trip over your feet to grab it. You’ve got ten minutes to make it halfway across campus and into your lecture hall before you’re docked an entire letter grade. You’ve made it there with less.

You don’t bother saying goodbye to Heeseung, but you feel his gaze on you as you leave. Your skin prickles from the weight of it, but you don’t have the mental capacity to dwell on that right now. It’s too early for that.

Tonight’s the last game of the football season, which means practically the entire university showed up to the stadium to show their support, if support meant getting drunk off their asses.

You hadn’t planned to go, mostly because sports had never really been your thing, but Yunjin insists you have to come.

“It’ll be fun!” She pleads, her lower lip jutting out in a pout. She grabs your wrist and pulls on it, but you don’t budge from your spot at your desk. You told her that you had a big test to study for and that’s why you couldn’t go. It wasn’t exactly a lie, but you didn’t really need to study, you already knew the material like the back of your hand.

You sigh and pull your arm from her grip, “I can’t do bad on this test, Yunjin. You know what’ll happen if I do.”

“Yes, yes, the big bad Heeseung will score higher than you and your entire life will be ruined. Believe me, I know.” She clicks her tongue and walks behind you so her hands can rest on your shoulders. “But I think Sunghoon would be so sad to see that you didn’t come to support him for his last game.”

You immediately tense, your face going hot and stomach flipping in ways you didn’t know were possible. Even just the mere mention of Park Sunghoon forces a physical reaction out of you. It’s honestly a little embarrassing.

Sunghoon is the kind of boy you read about in romance novels or watch romcoms about. He’s sweet, smart, and the kind of handsome you weren’t aware a person can actually be. And he does it all effortlessly, like being perfect is something he was just born with. It probably was.

It doesn’t help that he’s always going out of his way to talk to you. Study dates, coffee runs after class, texts about nothing in the middle of the night, all things that feel like a relationship but actually aren’t.

Yunjin keeps insisting that you go for it, and you know that it’s probably not going to be as scary as you’re thinking it will be. After all, all it would do is put a title on whatever song and dance it is that the two of you’ve been putting on for the past couple months.

“I doubt he’d notice if I was there or not.” You shrug, doing your best to seem casual and not like the thought of him has hearts forming in your eyes.

Yunjin squeezes your shoulder and spins your chair around so you’re forced to face her. Her red hair is pulled back into a ponytail, her brows furrowed in determination. She looks a little bit like some kind of strange love coach who takes their job way too seriously. “You’re going to this game.” She says firmly.

“I’m not.”

“That’s what you think.”

The stadium is loud, people talking over each other in the hopes their friends will be able to hear them. They don’t, which means people just talk louder. The lights are bright and overwhelming, and you almost feel claustrophobic with how close the seats are to each other, like whoever designed the place did it without any regard for personal space at all.

Yunjin and Jake are on either side of you, both of them way too invested in the game. You are too, but not for the same reasons as them.

Sunghoon got into Decalis on a football scholarship and is the school's best starting quarterback in fifteen years. Even though he has every right to have a big head about it, he’s so humble you don’t think the thoughts ever even crossed his mind. Someone always approaches him about it when you’re out together on campus, and every time without fail his cheeks go bright pink and he gets this bashful smile on his face. It’s one of the reasons you’ve fallen for him as hard as you have, because unlike most guys you’ve interacted with, he doesn’t seem to have much of an ego at all.

It’s a very welcome contrast to Heeseung.

You can see him on the field too, walking behind the players sitting on the bench and getting candid shots of them. Even though you hate admitting it, he’s always been a gifted photographer. His photos were always hanging up in local art shows or featured in your high school yearbooks. Strangely, it’s the only thing he doesn’t brag about, despite it being the only thing he deserves to. 

“Oh, that’s bullshit!” Jake yells, popcorn spilling from his lap as he gestures wildly. “That was our play!”

You give him a side-eye and sink further into your seat. You honestly couldn’t care less about this whole thing; you're just excited to see Sunghoon in his post-game glow as you like to call it. Damp hair, face glowing with a sheen of sweat, his chest still heaving from running up and down the field. The entire thing is admittedly your guilty pleasure.

Yunjin elbows your ribs gently, her chin poking out to the field. You follow her gaze and find Sunghoon with his helmet in hand, drinking out of a green gatorade bottle and laughing at something one of his teammates says. He looks perfect. He is perfect.

And if things go right, he’ll be yours.

By the time the game ends, you’re more than ecstatic to finally get out of your seat and see Sunghoon. Yunjin teases you the entire way down, but you barely notice her. Not when your heart is nearly fluttering out of your chest.

But when you get down there, it’s not Sunghoon you see. No, it’s something much worse.

Heeseung.

He doesn’t notice you at first, and you almost think you’ll be able to sneak around him, but then Jake decides it’s a good idea to open his big mouth and alert the enemy to your presence.

“Heeseung!” He calls, raising his hand in a wave. “What’s good, man?”

Heeseung looks up then, sharp eyes falling onto Jake, and slowly trailing over to you. He grins, all teeth and something akin to mischief, and casually makes his way over to your small group.

“Hey Jake,” he greets, jutting his chin out swiftly. “Yunjin.”

Yunjin returns the greeting politely. “Heeseung.”

She has no reason to be mean to him, but as your closest friend, she understands that she must, by international girl-code law, dislike anyone you dislike, which includes him.

He turns to you then, and you swear you see something flash in his eyes. He keeps the same smile on his face despite the way you glare at him. “Hi, Y/N.”

“Hi.” You respond shortly. You don’t know why he even bothers trying to be nice to you in public, especially when he knows you're not going to return whatever sentiment it is he has.

He smirks like you’ve just said the funniest thing in the world. “Would it hurt you to be nicer?”

“Yes,” you respond easily. “It would, actually.”

He frowns and grabs at his shirt dramatically, right over where his heart is. “Always so mean.”

“You’ll live.”

He chuckles, reaching out and roughing up your hair. You smack his hands away and rush to fix it, palms smoothing down the parts he frizzed up. “Don’t do that!”

He ignores you and turns to talk to Jake about the game, and you can hear them say something about how the referees almost cost the team that last quarter, but you aren’t paying attention to that anymore.

Because behind Heeseung you can see a familiar head of damp black hair, thick eyebrows, and a perfect smile.

“Hey guys,” Sunghoon grins as he approaches. He’s ditched his football uniform and is instead wearing a black long sleeved compression shirt, and you swear your brain short circuits at the sight.

His attention falls to you first, just like it always does, and his smile widens just a fraction. Not enough for it to seem like anything else but a friendly gesture, but it doesn’t stop your heart from fluttering out of control or your cheeks from heating to near impossible levels.

“Hey!” You chirp a bit too loudly, hand shooting up in a wave.

“Nice game tonight, man!” Jake gushes, his hands moving animatedly. “The way you got that goal right at the beginning was insane! I swear, Penn didn't even know what hit them.”

Sunghoon grins and brings a hand up to his neck, the way he always does when somebody praises him, like he still can’t quite process the amount of attention on him. “Thanks, Jake. Seriously.”

“Those refs were awful though,” Yunjin throws in. 

The three of them end up in conversation about the game, all of them spewing out football lingo that you couldn’t be bothered to understand. Heeseung's still here too, just…lingering.

He’s friends with Jake and Sunghoon, yes, but he’s always on the sidelines. He’s been like that since high school. He’s friends with everyone, but he never lets them in. Doesn’t make any attempts to know them outside of a surface level friendship. 

It’s a little sad, honestly. But you stopped questioning the way his brain worked a long time ago. If he wanted to keep to himself, then that was perfectly fine by you. 

You don’t notice her approach, not until she’s sliding into the spot next to Sunghoon like she belongs there. Short black hair, bangs that frame her face like she was born with them, big brown eyes. Kim Chaewon is as beautiful as she is smart, and unbelievably kind. Not to mention she’d made cheer captain as a sophomore, and has kept the title all the way into her junior year.

“Hey, Hoon,” she says, voice sweet like honey. You know it shouldn’t, but something twists low and deep in your chest at the way she looks at him. Like she knows him. Like he belongs to her.

You expect him to greet her like he does everyone else. Always polite, but without the extra tenderness he saves for you. Without the small quirk of his lips or the subtle softening of his eyes, because that had always been yours. Your look.

Instead, when he looks at her, his lips quirk up, his eyes soften, and he snags a hand around her waist like he can’t imagine it being anywhere else.

You think this must be a joke. Not a very funny one, but a joke nonetheless. A tasteless prank. Because there is no way Park Sunghoon—the same Park Sunghoon that calls you in the middle of the night and insists he walk you home from class—has his arm around Kim Chaewon and is giving her the same look he gives you.

Yunjin looks just as shocked as you feel, but she’s never been as good at having a poker face as you. Her jaw drops, eyes going wide as she stares at the pair of them. “Um,” she laughs uncomfortably, “Sunghoon do you mind maybe… informing us as to who this is?”

Yunjin knows who Chaewon is, you know that. She's doing that thing she does where she tries to indirectly ask someone something without coming off as rude. For once, you're thankful for her weird methods.

Sunghoon clears his throat, his eyes flickering to yours for a split second before they return to Chaewon. “Right, uh,” he swallows, and you watch as his fingers flex at his side. A nervous habit. “This is Chaewon. We’ve been…seeing each other.”

You blink, your mind going a million miles a minute as you try to make sense of what he’s saying. The words are coming out of his mouth, and yet they still feel fake. Like a figment of your worst nightmare where the boy you’re in love with tells you he’s seeing someone.

“Seeing each other?” You repeat, voice raising in pitch. 

Chaewon nods, her lips curling up into a shy smile as she places a hand on Sunghoon's chest. “It was a recent development,” she chuckles.

You feel like you’re going to be sick.

Sunghoon smiles at her before removing his arm from her waist so he can gesture at the three of you. “How do you feel about dinner so Chae can get to know you guys? My treat.”

Chae. How long has this been going on for them to already have cute little nicknames for each other?

The thought of sitting at dinner with them sounds like torture. Having to sit there and watch him touch her? Smile at her? You don’t want to sound jealous (you are), but that’s supposed to be you. You’re the one he should be smiling at—you were the one! You can’t wrap your head around how he could suddenly be seeing someone when just last week he was smiling at you like you meant something to him?

Had you imagined it? Convinced yourself there was something there when he was just being friendly? But even Yunjin said he looked at you differently. Was she just feeding into your delusions?

Heeseung's voice pulls you out of your frenzy, and when you look up, he’s looking straight at you like he can read your mind. “Sorry, man,” he says, eyes staying on you for a moment longer before they shift to Sunghoon. “I’ve gotta get these pictures developed before they close the red room.”

Sunghoon waves him off, “don’t worry about it.” He says, “I’ll see you when we get home tonight. What about you guys?”

There’s absolutely no way you’re going to dinner with them. You can’t, like, physically can’t. You think you’ll die if you do.

Instead of saying that, or coming up with some kind of excuse, what comes out is, “I’m free.”

Yunjin's head snaps to you in shock, and then she blurts out a sudden, “same!”

Jake shrugs, “I’ve got nothing better to do.”

“Great!” Sunghoon grins, “let’s meet at that diner off of fifth? They’re usually open late.”

He walks away after that, hand in hand with Chaewon, and you watch them go while your heart sinks deep into your chest. She’s laughing at something he says, her free hand slapping his arm lightly, and he smiles down at her like she’s the only girl in his universe. The same way you thought he was doing to you.

“Well,” Heeseungs starts, his eyes finding you’d once again, like he can feel the hurt radiating off your body. He probably can. “Since when was that a thing?”

Jake shrugs the way most clueless men do. “No idea.”

The two of them walk away after that, and you’re thankful to be left alone with Yunjin.

“What the fuck?” She says, hands resting on her hips. “That’s gotta be a joke. Or maybe some kind of dare. I don’t fucking know, but there’s no way they’re actually seeing each other! He was literally blowing up your phone two days ago!” She snaps her fingers like she’s made some kind of profound discovery. "It must be some kind of spell. You know, I’ve always thought witches and magic were real–”

“Yunjin,” you interrupt, eyes already glassy and throat closing up with an onslaught of tears. You aren’t going to cry over him–that would be ridiculous, especially since you weren’t even dating, but that doesn’t mean it still doesn’t hurt. If you’re being completely honest, it hurts like hell.

Yunjin notices immediately, and before you can process it, she’s throwing her arms around you and pulling you into her chest in the middle of the field. “I’m sorry, babe,” she sighs, “I really thought he was going to ask you out tonight.”

She’s not the only one. 

You just shrug, doing your best to mask your hurt, even though you know there’s no point when it comes to Yunjin. You’ve only known her for six months, yet she’s the only person who can read you like an open book. “It’s fine.”

“It’s not,” she mumbles, pulling away from you and placing her hands on your shoulders. “But it will be. Because we’re going to show Sunghoon exactly what he missed out on.”

You snort, rolling your eyes and shrugging her off of you so you can make the trek back to your shared dorm. “What are you talking about?”

She shrugs, “you’ll see.”

You should question her. Should refuse to go anywhere with her until she tells you what her plan is, but you don’t do any of that. You trust Yunjin, and you know that while her methods may be strange, she does everything with good intentions. Besides, you doubt you won’t be able to handle whatever it is she’s cooking up.

The diner off of 5th is the only place that stays open after ten pm and still serves edible food. It’s a campus staple, which means it’s nearly always packed—especially after games. So, you aren’t too surprised that you have to weave through multiple bodies just to find the table Sunghoon had managed to snag for the five of you, and nobody comments when it takes you nearly five minutes just to make it from the front door to your seats.

“I’m starving,” Yunjin groans, her tongue swiping over her lips as she flips through the menu. The both of you know she’s just going to get the same thing she does every time, but she says she finds joy in looking unpredictable.

“Me too,” Sunghoon agrees. 

He looks good. Tired, but good. His hair is falling over his eyes in that dorky kind of way and he’s wearing his glasses—a rare sight. Normally, you’d be the only one doing this much analysis into his look, but when you glance over at Chaewon, she’s staring at him with a dopey grin on her face.

You frown and look down at your menu. You still don’t understand how this could’ve happened. It just didn’t make any sense. When you take out the part where you’re totally in love with Sunghoon, it still makes no sense for him to hide his apparent relationship with Chaewon. Was it a relationship? Are they even dating? Or are they just in that weird space between where you both know it’s going to happen, but they’re still choosing to dance around it?

You’d thought you were there with Sunghoon. You thought it was only a matter of time before he swept you off of your feet and confessed his love for you with some kind of grand, dramatic gesture.

But your life is clearly not a movie, because Park Sunghoon is reaching for Chaewon's hand under the table. His thumb is rubbing small, comforting circles into her skin, and she’s doing a very bad job at hiding her smile.

You shouldn’t have agreed to come.

Jake, for all his strange qualities, has always been observant (except when it comes to possible romantic partners), and he watches the entire exchange with narrowed eyes and bated breath. You’d never talked to him about your relationship with Sunghoon, but he (along with your nemesis) was the guy's roommate, so you assume he must've known that there was something going on between you. Unless you really are just delusional and everything had been entirely friendly.

“So,” Jake starts, wagging his finger towards the couple. “We’re so glad you’re here, Chaewon. Seriously. But I just can’t believe this is the first I’m hearing about…this. I mean, not to sound like a douche or anything, but I live with Sunghoon and he hasn’t brought you up once. He’s talked about–” his eyes find yours for a fleeting moment, before he clears his throat and tries to pretend it never happened. “It’s just kind of unexpected.”

Chaewon giggles, reaching a hand up and swiping her bangs over her forehead. They fall right back into place. “It was a recent development.”

Yunjin snorts, taking a sip from her cup with the kind of casual confidence you wish you had. “Clearly.”

If anybody catches the irritation in her tone, they don’t comment on it. 

“He actually hit me with a football during practice,” Chaewon laughs, bringing her arm up to rest casually behind Sunghoon. You can nearly make out her fingers playing with the soft hair at the nape of his neck. “It was the total opposite of a meet-cute. But it still worked out anyway, because he invited me to coffee as an apology and things just went from there.”

Coffee? He always takes you to coffee. Did they go to the same place you go to? Did he show her the secret menu that’s not really a secret? Did he joke around with your favorite barista like he does when he’s with you?

Your throat feels tight again, but you suck down a gulp from your drink and try to act like you aren’t on the brink of emotional collapse.

Yunjin smiles, but it looks forced. She taps your thigh once, like she’s warning you, but before you can question it, she’s already opening her mouth. “You know, that’s honestly kind of crazy. Two of my friends are getting into relationships at the same time. You’d think I’d get some of that luck too considering I seem to be the common denominator here, but nope!”

You blink. You love Yunjin, you really do, but outside of you the only other person you saw her consistently speak to is her pet gerbil. And even that was leaning into more of a casual situation lately.

Sunghoon’s eyebrows raise briefly, but he’s quick to lower them. “Really?” He mumbles. You can practically feel the curiosity radiating off of him. He’s always been way too nosy. “Who?”

The next few moments are still a bit of a blur in your mind. You remember feeling like someone had spilled a bucket of cold water on you, but when you ran a hand through your hair, it was completely dry.

Yunjin smiles, and she looks so innocent you almost believe the lie that rolls off of her tongue like honey. You probably would’ve if it didn't have to do with you. “[Y/N], you’ve been seeing someone recently as well, haven’t you?”

You nearly choke, eyes widening into saucers. You splutter for an answer, blinking rapidly as you do. “What? A relationship? I don’t–well, I mean–maybe–?” It’s not until Yunjin sends a swift heel to your shin do you manage to get out a full sentence. “Yes,” you squeak. “I have been…seeing someone. It’s very recent. Very new. Honestly, I’m just as surprised as you are that it happened so quickly.”

The table goes silent for a moment, and you suddenly feel very, very exposed. You know Yunjin knows you’re a terrible liar, she witnessed it firsthand when you tried to lie about eating her leftover cheesecake, and yet she thought making you lie in a group setting would make your skills any better? If anything, it just made them ten times worse!

You’re waiting for the inevitable–for someone to give an uncomfortable laugh before attempting to move the conversation forward. Meanwhile, you’re going to pray to whatever is listening up in the sky for the floor to swallow you whole and for this day to have never happened.

But that doesn’t happen. Instead, the next few moments are probably the most confusing of your life. 

“That’s good, [Y/N],” Sunghoon says, smiling at you the way he does with everyone else. It’s not the smile you’re used to. Not the curl of his lips that would send butterflies fluttering around in your stomach and make your cheeks burst with color. This one is practiced, easy. Entirely wrong. “Who’s the lucky guy?”

You pale, parting your lips to give some shitty excuse. Maybe your delivery man? You met when he was dropping off your amazon vibrator and he complimented you on the brand. A very plausible start to any college relationship, and it’d be easy to hide considering he’s not real. 

But before you can tell your made-up story, Yunjin beats you to the punch.

“Oh, you’re going to lose your mind. I know I did when she told me.” She laughs aloud, and when her eyes find yours, you suddenly wish you’d never even gotten out of bed this morning. Maybe finishing the course with a B wouldn’t have been so bad if it meant you got to avoid this terrible fate.

She leans forward on the table, lowering her voice into that soft teasing tilt she’s perfected. “She’s been seeing your other roommate. The one she apparently can’t stand.”

Jake’s eyes widen, his hands slamming on the table so he can lean against them and get a better look at you. He practically screams when he asks, “you’ve been seeing Heeseung?”

You should’ve just taken the dock off of your grade.

“Yunjin, do not come near me right now or I swear to God you’re going to be missing chunks of hair.”

She winces, hands immediately tugging on the red strands. “Anything but the hair! You know it’s my best feature.” She attempts to joke, but you’re having absolutely none of it.

“You realize they live with him, right? What happens when they ask him about his apparent relationship with me?” You snap, slamming the door to your dorm behind you. The walk here had been completely silent—or, at least, it had been from your end. Yunjin spent the entire time trying to act like she hadn’t just lied to all of your friends that you were dating Lee Heeseung. The one person in this world everyone knows you cannot stand.

She flops onto her bed and stretches her arms over her head. “They’re guys! They don’t talk about that kind of stuff. Jake didn’t even know Sunghoon was seeing Chaewon! Which, can we talk about that, actually? I mean, seriously, what the fuck? One second he’s taking you on these cute little dates and the next—”

“Yunjin,” you groan, rubbing the heels of your palm into your eyes. You’re absolutely exhausted, and you aren’t sure how much longer you can talk about Sunghoon without your head wanting to explode. “As much as I’d love to talk about Sunghoon's sparkling love life and my lack of one, I’ve got a nine am tomorrow that I’d rather not have to sleep through because I stayed up all night talking about my nonexistent love life.”

She nods, a small smile on her lips. "No, yeah, of course. But, before you become dead to the world, you’re actually kind of wrong about something.”

“What?”

“Your love life isn’t nonexistent,” she says thoughtfully. “You’re seeing Heeseung, remember?”

You throw the pillow at her so hard you’re surprised it doesn’t mold to her face.

You’ve always enjoyed your nine am literacy analysis lecture. After all, you’re an English major. Literacy analysis is kind of your whole thing.

The only part of the class that is mildly annoying is the fact that you share it with Heeseung. But, surprisingly, he rarely ever bothers you. You aren’t sure if it’s because he’s finally matured and realized it’s stupid to bother you during lecture, or if he’d just gotten bored of the entire thing. Either way, you’d be perfectly fine with whatever the answer was as long as it kept him away from you.

Today though, your nerves are practically fried. Does he know? Did he expose you? You don’t know why he would lie for you, and honestly, you don’t expect him to. He probably laughed out loud before Sunghoon and Jake even asked him about it.

God, you love Yunjin, you really do, but right now you wish she’d stayed home with her gerbil last night. Maybe that way she wouldn’t have been able to open her big mouth.

You don’t look at Heeseung when you enter. You don’t even look in his general direction. You just keep your head down and try to look as normal as possible through the lecture, which is exceptionally difficult when your mind is buzzing with so much nervous energy it could power the entire university.

The usual hour seems to pass by in a blur, and when your professor releases you for dismissal, you’re quick to pack your bags and make a swift exit. You're practically out of breath by the time you make it outside, but you’re relieved you managed to get out without having to make any contact with Heeseung. You aren’t sure you would’ve been able to survive the embarrassment.

You pull the strap of your bag further up your shoulder and pull out your phone, fully ready to call Yunjin and complain to her about the mess she’s gotten you into, but a call of your name forces your head up.

Heeseung makes his way over to you casually, a backwards baseball cap covering up his dirty blonde hair and his hands stuffed into the pockets of his jeans. He isn’t giving you that usual teasing smile he always wears when he sees you, instead he looks unusually serious. 

You tense, pulse pounding in your ears and alarm bells ringing in your head. You have half the mind to turn and make a run for it, but he reaches you before your feet can move.

“Hi,” he says simply. Casually. Like he’s talking to a friend and asking about the weather.

You hesitate, but return the greeting nonetheless. “...Hi.”

He cracks a smile, but scrunches his nose before it reaches his eyes and his lips fall back down into a straight line. “We need to talk.”

Your blood turns to ice, skin paling before you can stop it. He knows. And if he knows that means he told everyone the truth, and he’s probably already told the entire campus about your stupid lie as well. You’re going to be known as the girl who lied about being in a relationship because she couldn't accept that the boy she likes has a girlfriend, and then you're going to have to transfer somewhere else and start going by a new name. 

God, you are going to kill Yunjin. It’ll be like a final goodbye before you’re forced to move across the country.

You shake your head immediately. “No, uh, we don’t actually. I already know what you’re going to say, so I’ll just start packing my things now. No need for this awkward rejection or whatever–not that I’m being rejected by you. God, I’d rather die before I go out with you. But, Yunjin has a big mouth and I never know how to stop her before she says something stupid, so now my social life is totally dead and–”

You’re rambling so fast it takes a moment for you to register that Heeseung's laughing, and even longer to realize that he’s laughing at you. His shoulders shake from the force of it, and the back of his hand comes up to cover his mouth. If this was anyone else, you might even think he looked cute.

You swallow, unable to help the pout that forms on your lips. “And now you’re laughing at me.”

“I’m sorry,” he chuckles, taking in a deep breath and trying to find some composure. “It’s just…you’ve always been really good at jumping to conclusions.”

Your brows furrow, mouth parting as you try to process his words. What does he mean you’re good at jumping to conclusions? Why does he always talk like he knows anything about you? You know they shouldn’t, but the words tick you off. “What are you talking about?”

He shrugs, lips curving up into that smile you’ve unfortunately become way too familiar with. The one that screams trouble and always means he’s up to no good. “I have to admit, I was pretty surprised when Jake grilled me for half an hour last night on our apparent relationship–” you visibly wince, but he ignores it and continues– “but, I thought to myself, why on earth would [Y/N] [L/N] tell our friends we were in a relationship? I figured you had to have a reason, so I went along with it.”

Your jaw drops, eyes blinking a mile a minute like maybe that’ll help everything make sense. Newsflash, it doesn’t–if anything it just makes everything feel ten times more confusing. “You what?”

He shrugs, “you have a reason, right? Otherwise, we just became a couple for no reason. Unless that’s what you wanted? Was this whole thing just an elaborate scheme to get with me?” His voice drops an octave, and he takes a step closer, until suddenly he’s in your space and you can smell the fresh linen from his detergent and his cedarwood cologne. “You know, princess, if you wanted to be with me, all you had to do was ask.”

You might be extremely confused right now, but you’ve got enough sense to know that the last thing you want in your life is to be in a real relationship with him. And you definitely don’t want him calling you princess. 

You take a step back, your arms coming up to put space between the two of you. “Ew, no, absolutely not. Like I said, I’d rather die before I dated you.”

He hums, shoving his hands back in his pockets and beginning to walk away. “Okay. I’ll just go tell Jake and Sunghoon that you lied then–”

Your hand shoots out and wraps around his arm before you can stop yourself, and you feel the muscle tense up beneath your fingertips. He stills, his head tilting as he looks back at you.

You swallow, taking your pride down with the saliva. “I’m sorry,” you sigh out, “I just don't know how to go about this without sounding like a total loser.”

His lips curve up and he turns so he’s facing you fully. “You’re going to sound like a loser to me no matter what, so just tell me.”

You glower, your hand dropping back to your side. You try to ignore the warmth lingering in your palm as it balls up at your side. “I’ve had a thing for this guy–”

He nods. “Sunghoon, right?”

Is it really that obvious? You narrow your eyes, “How’d you know? Did he say something about me?”

He shakes his head. “No, but I’ve seen the way you follow each other like lost puppies. I’ve gotta admit, I was surprised when he popped out with Chaewon and not you.”

You don’t know if that makes you feel better or worse. If even Heeseung, the one person you absolutely cannot stand, could see that there was something between you and Sunghoon, then that must mean you aren’t delusional. But, on the other hand, it makes you wonder what made Sunghoon change his mind so quickly.

Were you trying to take things too slow? Did he get bored of the waiting? You thought the dancing around each other was sweet, but maybe he was looking at it differently. Maybe he just got sick of waiting around for you.

Heeseung must notice how your thoughts have wandered, because he waves a hand in front of your face and raises his brows. “You still with me?”

Your eyes snap to him and your cheeks heat with embarrassment. “Yeah, sorry, um, as I was saying, I’ve had a thing for him for a while. So, when he took us to dinner with Chaewon last night, Yunjin had this bright idea to say that I was also in a relationship with…you. And the whole thing just kind of spiraled from there.”

He’s silent for a moment, like he’s processing your words. “She said we were dating to make Sunghoon jealous? How does that work?”

You groan and run a hand over your face. “I don’t know! I don’t know what she was thinking! I’ve already yelled at her over it!” You feel your frustration building again, but you take a deep breath and force it down. “It was stupid. And now you’re dragged into this entire mess and I don’t know how I’m going to tell everyone the truth.”

There are a lot of things you dislike about Heeseung. He’s rude in that passive aggressive kind of way, and he only ever does it to you. He always forgets a pen and never gives yours back when you lend one to him. He’s wildly selfish and thinks that the entire world revolves around him. He also always manages to catch you by surprise, and you absolutely loathe surprises.

Today is no exception.

His lips part in thought, and for the first time you can actually see him thinking about what he’s going to say before he says it. Usually, he just blurts out whatever's on his mind and deals with the consequences later.

“What if…” he hesitates for a moment. “What if you didn’t tell them?”

“What?”

He splutters for a moment, a nervous laugh bubbling from his lips. “I just mean, what if we let everyone think we’re dating? Not that we actually date. That would be…awful.”

“Why would we do that, though?” You ask, crossing your arms over your chest. “It’s not like me having a boyfriend is going to change Sunghoon's mind. And what would you even get out of it aside from undeniable blackmail material?”

He shrugs, “actually Sunghoon looked pretty distraught last night. He kept asking me about you and our budding relationship.”

Your heart skips a beat at that. He was asking about you? It shouldn't affect you like it does, especially when he’s got a girlfriend, but the thought of him thinking about you has butterflies flying around your stomach.

Still, it doesn’t explain why Heeseung would want to help you. He’s never gone out of his way to do it before, so you don’t see why he would now. 

“But, what do you get out of this?” You ask, pointing a wary finger at him. “You’ve never been nice enough to actually help me before.”

He scoffs, “first off, that's not true. What about that science project we did Junior year? The one with the ant colony? I partnered up with you after Stella got that weird illness.”

“You mean the ant colony you released into Mrs. Hong's room? She made us deep clean the room every day for, like, two weeks. And Stella had pneumonia.”

“Yeah, but that was after we’d already gotten an A.”

You resist the urge to roll your eyes.

He sighs and pulls out a creme folder from his bag. He taps it once and hands it to you. You accept it questioningly, looking up at him through your lashes with suspicion. “What is this?”

“My portfolio,” he explains. Just as he said, when you open it there's what you think must be hundreds of photos. Some of nature, some of the people on campus, some of just random mundane things. They’re all breathtaking shots, and it's then that you remember he’s here on a full scholarship after winning some national photography contest. It’d been the only thing he talked about for weeks.

You knew he was going to win the moment it was announced.

“Wow,” you mumble, continuing to flip through the photos. “These are amazing.”

He brings a hand up to his neck and scratches at it nervously. “Thanks.”

One picture captures your attention. It’s a candid shot of Sunghoon in class, his glasses slipping down the bridge of his nose, eyebrows tucked in that adorable way they always are when he’s frustrated. The people around him are blurry, and you assume they’re getting their stuff for dismissal.

“The photography committee on campus is holding a competition,” he continues, “$100,000 and your pictures are featured in international art shows. But, in order to enter, I need a muse. Someone I can get consistent pictures of. If we’re “dating”, no one will question why I’m constantly taking pictures of you, and it saves me the hassle of having to ask anyone else.”

You raise a brow. He wants to be in a fake couple so that he can take pictures of you for a contest? It doesn’t feel like a fair trade to you at all. “Why don’t you ask Jake or Sunghoon? I’m sure they wouldn’t mind.”

He gives you a fixed look. “I already did, but they both claimed they were too busy. You’re my last resort before I start asking random people on campus.”

The explanation still feels weird to you, but you aren’t going to fight him anymore on it. Besides, you’re still trying to wrap your head around the fact that you’re now in a fake relationship with public enemy number one.

“So…what now?” You ask, closing the folder and handing it back to him. He takes it with steady hands, and when his fingers brush yours, there’s a solid five seconds where your breath catches in your throat and you almost forget about everything you dislike about Heeseung.

“Jay Park’s having a party tomorrow night,” he breathes, lips turning up into that awful smile. “Beer. Dancing. Maybe some weed. Sunghoon and Chaewon will definitely be there, which means you and I will also be there.”

Your nose scrunches at the thought. You’d only gone to one party so far, and the entire experience had been so awful you’d sworn them off completely.

“I don’t really do parties,” you mumble.

Heeseung snorts like that’s the understatement of the century. “We won't stay for long. Just long enough for Sunghoon to see us, and then we’ll go.”

You nod, and the air between the two of you suddenly feels heavy. Your tongue darts out to wet your lips and your eyes fall to the floor. “Thank you,” you say sincerely. “For helping me.”

He doesn’t smirk. Doesn’t tease. Just nods casually like fake dating people is something he does daily. “I’ll see you tomorrow night, princess.”

You really need to tell him to stop calling you that.

When you tell Yunjin, she doesn’t even try to act surprised. “I knew it would work out,” she says confidently, staring at a pimple in her reflection. “That's why I said it in the first place.”

You roll your eyes, fingers moving over your keyboard rapidly. You need to finish up your analysis paper before the deadline next week, but every time you sit down to write your brain wanders to dirty blonde hair and that annoyingly perfect smile.

“Whatever.” You mumble, “he’s expecting me to go to some party with him tomorrow night, but I don’t know. I really need to finish this paper, and the last time we went to a party I got so drunk I collided with the wall.”

Yunjin snorts at the memory, and then she’s standing and making her way over to you. She sits crisscrossed on your bed and ever-so-gently forces your laptop closed. You don’t argue with her, it’s not like you were getting anything done anyway.

“So, your fake boyfriend–who by the way, is super hot–is asking you to go to a party with him, and you don’t want to because you’d rather stay at home and analyze Edgar Allen Poe?” She asks, drawing out the sentence so you feel completely and utterly stupid.

“It’s not Edgar Allen Poe,” you mutter, “and, I don’t know, this entire thing just feels so insane! Like, what am I hoping happens? Sunghoon realizes he’s actually in love with me and breaks up with Chaewon?”

“Exactly that, yes.” Yunjin nods, like it’s obvious.

You shoot her a glare. “That’s not fair to either of them. If they’re happy, why should I try to ruin that?”

Yunjin sighs, her hands reaching out to grab yours. She brings them into her lap and squeezes them comfortingly. “If they’re happy, then you being in a relationship with Heeseung isn’t going to matter. But you said he asked about you, right? That means he still cares at least a little bit, and if that’s the case, then it’s not fair to Chaewon for him to stay with her.” She smiles softly, her shoulders bobbing as she shrugs them. “I don’t know what he’s doing right now, but I know that there was something going on between the two of you. And if you care about him, you shouldn’t let that go without a fight.”

When she wanted to, Yunjin could give some seriously killer advice. Your lips curve up, chest feeling lighter and mind not so hazy. “Thanks, Yunjin. Seriously. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Die, probably.”

You laugh loudly, throwing your head back with it. “Yeah,” you agree, “probably.”

The next night, your nerves are absolutely shot. Heeseung texted you that he’d pick you and Yunjin up from your dorm at seven, which meant you’d spent the entire day stressed out of your mind.

Sunghoon was going to be there, that much was obvious, but the thought of parading yourself around with Heeseung in front of him makes you feel sick. For one, he knows you. He’s always been able to see right through you, and you have half the mind to think he’ll make your little lie before you even step through the door.

You suck in a breath, your hands smoothing out the sides of your skirt. The dress Yunjin lent you is a lot shorter than anything you’re used to wearing, and the black cloth hugs your curves in a way you’re not entirely used to seeing on yourself. Your heels force your back to arch, highlighting the curve of your spine and the plump of your ass.

You give yourself a once-over in the mirror, hands coming down to tug the fabric further down your thighs. “Are you sure this isn’t too much?” You ask.

Yunjin clicks her tongue, and you can see her fighting with the straps of her own dress through the mirror. “Absolutely not. You look amazing. The guys are going to lose their minds when they see you in that.”

You raise a brow and turn around to face her. “Guys? Like, plural?”

“Well, yeah,” she shrugs, “Sunghoon and Heeseung.”

Sunghoon, yes. You’d love for him to notice you. But Heeseung? Absolutely not. You could seriously care less about what he thinks about you. He was there when you didn’t understand how to get rid of your acne and when makeup was more of a suggestion then something you actually did everyday.

“Ew, no,” you gag, “I don’t care what Lee Heeseung thinks about me. The only reason he’s even helping me is for his portfolio or whatever. He’s not doing it out of the kindness of his heart.”

Yunjin hums, smoothing out her dress and giving herself one final look over in the vanity mirror. She looks amazing–she always does. You aren’t jealous of Yunjin, but sometimes you wonder what it’d be like to have her confidence. “You seriously think he’s doing this just for his portfolio?”

“Um, yeah. That’s what he said.”

She walks over to you then, her chin resting on your shoulder. “I think–and don’t go nuclear on me for this–but I think he likes you. Like, like-likes you.”

A laugh bursts from your chest. That is the single most absurd thing you’ve ever heard in your life. Heeseung can barely stand being in the same room as you without having to get under your skin. He doesn’t like you, he just enjoys pissing you off. 

“You’re funny,” you snort, “and so insanely wrong.”

She shrugs and takes a step back from you. “I don’t know, [Y/N]. I don’t know many guys who get into fake relationships with people they dislike just so they can finish their portfolio.”

Your phone buzzes from your bed, and when you pick it up you’ve got a text message from Heeseung saying he’s here. 

“You don’t know many guys in general, Yunjin.” You retort. You quickly grab your purse and stuff your phone inside. “He’s here. Don’t say anything weird in the car, please. I think you’ve embarrassed me enough in the last two days to last a lifetime.”

“No promises,” she winks.

Heeseung's car isn’t super nice. It’s pretty typical for any college student, actually. There’s a scratch on the passenger side door and a dent on the hood, and it looks like it could definitely use a round through the car wash. But, despite that, the sight of it makes you nostalgic.

You remember when he pulled into your first day of Junior year with this thing. He bragged about it to anyone who would listen. He’d saved up the entire summer to buy it, and he treated the run down thing like it was his pride and joy. You wonder if that’s still the case today.

He’s leaning against your door when you step outside. Dirty blonde hair, backwards baseball cap, that same fucking smile. The sight alone is enough to irritate you.

But there’s a brief moment where the smile falters. His eyes trail over you, all the way from your heels to your eyes, and you swear you see his ears go the lightest shade of pink.

You raise a brow, but before you can comment on it the smile is back and he’s acting like nothing happened. “Nice dress,” he clicks his tongue, “I didn’t think you owned anything that didn’t look like it came from a librarian's closet.”

You hate him. You hate him so much it hurts your soul. It envelops your being like an ugly monster.

You want to tell him that, but you don’t, because at the end of the day he’s helping you for whatever reason, and your mother told you that hating people was inherently wrong. So, you swallow down your annoyance and make your way to his car. “Can we try and go one night without you being a dick?”

“I don’t know,” he smirks, “you’re the one dating this dick, princess.”

You frown and try not to think about the double meaning behind his words. “Fake dating,” you correct.

“Right. Fake dating.”

The tension between you is thick, and not in the way you’re used to. Instead, this feels like some sort of gravitational pull towards him. Something you’d kept buried that is trying to dig its way back from the grave.

Yunjin groans behind you. You’d nearly forgotten she was here. “God, can you guys just fuck already and get it over with? Your sexual tension is starting to make me jealous.”

“Yunjin!” You practically screech. Your hands gesture wildly as you attempt to defend yourself. “This is not–there is no sexual tension! That’s not what this is!”

She gives you a look that says: don’t make me call bullshit.

You sigh and run a hand over your eyes. “Just get in the car.”

The party is just outside of campus, in Jay Park's two-story home that he mysteriously pays for by himself. (Everyone knows he’s a trust fund baby.) There’s some stragglers outside, all holding red solo cups and trying to act drunker than they really are. You’ve never understood the appeal for parties. To you, they just look like sweat fests that people gaslight themselves into thinking are fun.

Yunjin gets out of the car as soon as you pull up and quickly makes her way over to some guy by the front door. You watch as she tries to talk to him, and for once he doesn’t look intimidated by her outgoing nature. It’s kind of cute, actually.

You, on the other hand, feel a bit sick. For one, you don’t know what you’re going to do when you see Sunghoon. Is he even going to care? Probably not. He literally has a fucking girlfriend, and here you are trying to show off for him like that’ll change anything.

“Hey,” Heeseung murmurs from beside you, his eyebrows knitted together in what you think might be concern. “You good?”

You blink. “I don’t know.” It’s the most honest thing you’ve said all night.

He’s silent for a moment, before he’s letting out a breath and turning to you. “You look good, [Y/N]. Really fucking good. Don’t let a dress like that go to waste because you’re in your head.” He emphasizes his point with a gentle tap to your forehead. “Let’s go in there and show Sunghoon exactly what he lost, yeah?”

You feel your cheeks heat at the compliment, but you force the words to the back of your mind to be dwelled on later. Right now, you just need to get out of this car and get through tonight without wanting to explode. And, honestly, you do want to show Sunghoon what he’s missing out on. 

“Okay,” you nod.

He grins. “Okay.” 

Inside, the party is practically buzzing with people. There’s a few people you recognize, but it’s mostly randoms that you didn’t even realize you went to school with. That’s the thing about college; you’re always meeting someone new. Your high school was the complete opposite of that–you knew everyone in your graduating class on a personal level.

Heeseung keeps a hand on your lower back the entire time, and for some reason, you’re grateful for the subtle comfort it gives you. Like it’s a reminder that he’s here and that you aren’t going into this mess alone.

You eventually make your way over to the drinks, and Heeseung grabs a can of alcohol for himself and water for you. You raise a brow as he hands it to you. You hadn’t planned to drink, but him handing you water makes you feel like he’s treating you like some little kid.

“Actually,” you clear your throat, pointing towards the other beer can on top of the ice, “I’ll have that.”

He looks caught off guard for a moment, but then he shrugs and hands the can over to you. You open it with a pop and immediately take a swig. It goes down like tar against your tongue, and your nose scrunches in disgust.

He chuckles, “sure you don’t want the water?”

You really do. “I’m sure.”

Your eyes search the crowd for Sunghoon, and sure enough he’s here. He’s playing beer pong with some of his friends from the football team, and Chaewon is at his side cheering every time he scores. They look perfect for each other, and your heart squeezes painfully at the sight. Your hands shake as you take another gulp of your beer.

Heeseung taps your waist once, before he’s tugging you into his side and pulling you towards the dance floor. Alarm bells ring in your head as you weave through the crowd. You can’t dance, anytime you’ve tried you’ve embarrassed yourself so bad you’ve debated never showing your face in public again.

“Heeseung,” you attempt, “I can’t dance!”

“Neither can anyone else here. Besides, we can’t just sit in the corner and expect Sunghoon to care. If he’s having a good time, you need to be having an even better one.” He says easily.

You scoff as he comes to a stop in the middle of the floor, directly in Sunghoon's line of sight. Heeseung has always been able to make confidence look easy–like it’s something he was born with. You, on the other hand, are not like that. Your movements are awkward and you fumble to find a rhythm that doesn’t make you look like you’re on the verge of collapse.

“Wow,” he laughs, whistling lowly when you nearly trip over your own feet. “You weren’t kidding.”

Your eyes narrow as embarrassment flushes your cheeks. “I told you! God, I’m going back to the drinks–”

Before you can walk away, he catches your wrist with his hand and pulls you back towards him. Your chest nearly collides with his, and his face is suddenly so close you can practically taste his breath on yours.

“I’m not making fun of you, princess.” He murmurs, his hands sliding up to rest on your hips, “just…observing.”

His voice is right beside your ear, and the proximity makes your body feel like it’s on fire. Suddenly, the room is too small and all you can think about is him. Sunghoon is a thought so distant in your mind you nearly forget you’d ever been thinking about him in the first place.

He brings his lips to your ear, his grip on your hips tightening the smallest bit. You wonder if he’s able to hear your heartbeat. If he can, does he know it’s beating so rapidly because of him?

“He’s looking,” he murmurs into your hair.

The call back to reality feels like a bucket of ice water against your spine. If Heeseung notices the way you tense, he doesn’t comment on it.

You clear your throat and try to ignore the way your voice shakes. “He is?”

“He was,” he grumbles with a click of his tongue. He pulls back so you can see his eyes, and for a moment you think he almost looks as wrecked as you feel. “I’m going to kiss you.”

Your eyes widen and you nearly choke on your own spit. “What?”

You barely have time to process before he’s bringing a hand up to cup your cheek, the other sliding to your spine and pulling you impossibly closer. You’re so close your noses are nearly touching, and his cedarwood cologne feels like it’s enveloping all of your senses.

“Trust me, okay?” He murmurs.

Later, you’ll say you don’t know how it happened. You’ll tell Yunjin that it all happened so fast and that it really wasn’t that big of a deal. He was just helping you get Sunghoon's attention.

But the truth–the truth is that you want him to kiss you. You want him to take your breath away and for his hands to hold you like he’s afraid he’ll die without you.

And that scares you.

All you can manage is one simple word. “Okay.”

And then his mouth is on yours.

The kiss is awkward at first, more a peck than anything else, but he slides his hand to the back of your neck and pulls you closer and suddenly his tongue is in your mouth and he’s kissing you like you’re something precious.

Your hands slide to his chest instinctively, fists balling up the fabric of his shirt between your fingers. His breath mingles with yours, and his tongue licks into your mouth like you’re the best thing he’s tasted in years.

You can’t help the whine that slides from his lips when he pulls away, your own lips chasing his without your permission. It’s like your body's an addict and he’s your drug of choice. 

Heeseung's lips are swollen and his pupils are completely blown, but you doubt you look much better. His tongue darts out to swipe at his lower lip, and then he’s smiling at you. But it’s not the teasing smile you’re used to or the one he gives everyone else. It’s softer. Real. 

Your lips part to say something, anything, but then your thoughts go back to Sunghoon and what comes out instead is a soft, “did he see?”

Heeseungs smile immediately drops, and something akin to disappointment flashes over his face. You don’t know why the sight makes you cringe internally. 

He glances up and nods his head. “Yeah,” he says, using his grip on your hips to turn you around, “he definitely saw.”

When you look, Sunghoon’s cheeks are pink and he’s staring directly at you. When he sees you looking, he’s quick to avert his gaze and try to act casually, but you know Sunghoon. He’s jealous.

This is a complete win.

So, why don’t you care as much as you should?

You should be ecstatic that Sunghoon’s feeling a certain way towards you. That’s the whole point of this stupid deal–to get Sunghoon back.

But when you turn back around and look at Heeseung, all you can think about is the way he smiled at you like you meant something to him. And how you hope he does it again.

It’s been a week since the kiss. A full week of acting like a couple. Holding hands on campus, cheek kisses in class, coffee dates at the cafe you used to frequent with Sunghoon. 

It’s…weird. Somewhere along the way, you stopped hating Heeseung's general presence. Instead of a nemesis, he’s managed to turn himself into someone you don’t really mind having around. A frenemy, maybe. He’s funny, something you never cared enough to notice before, and he’s got this soft side to him that makes your heart melt the smallest bit.

“So,” Yunjin grins, taking a bite of her ramen. “Any word from Sunghoon?”

Your mouth goes dry at the mention of your apparent crush. In truth, you hadn't really thought about him at all. You used to go to sleep imagining it was Sunghoon next to you, whispering sweet nothings in your ear and holding you like you were something fragile.

Now when you close your eyes at night, all you can think about is the way Heeseung's mouth felt against yours. The way his hands gripped your hips and held you close to him.

It takes everything in you to remember that Sunghoon is the goal. You’re just feeling this way because Heeseung kissed you. Once you have Sunghoon, you’ll get over it completely.

“Um,” you mumble, sinking further into your blankets, “not yet. But Heeseung said he saw him looking at us in the coffee shop the other day. That’s good, right?”

She turns to you, her eyes narrowed the tiniest bit. “It is. So why don’t you sound more excited?”

You immediately go on the defensive. “I am excited! I’m just…tired right now. It’s late, and I’ve been up since seven.”

“Whatever you say.”

In truth, you aren’t that excited. It’s nice that he’s thinking about you. It’s the entire reason you and Heeseung are doing this anyway. So why can you not bring yourself to care more?

Your phone buzzes next to you, and you have to dig through your sheets to find it. When you do, the screen is lit up with a message from Heeseung.

Hey, it reads, got time to take some photos tomorrow? There’s this park just a little off campus that I think would be a good spot.

Right. The portfolio. You’d been so busy with yourself you nearly forgot you were supposed to be helping him as well.

Sure, you reply, what time?

It doesn’t take long for him to respond. I’ll pick you up at eleven. Wear something nice, please.

You heart the message and set your phone down. You aren’t sure what something nice is supposed to entail, but you’ll do your best.

The next morning, you’re waiting outside your dorm in an outfit that you deemed appropriate for the park while also being cute. It isn’t something you usually wear–the long skirt feels restricting and the jean vest is more form-fitting then you thought it would be, but Yunjin swore up and down that you looked great, so you’re choosing to believe her.

You rock back and forth on your feet while you wait, scrolling mindlessly through your phone. Heeseung is never late, but today seems to be an exception to that.

You sigh, ready to turn around and go wait in your dorm, but the sound of your name catches you off guard.

When you look over, Sunghoon is walking over to you. He must’ve been on a run, because his arms are on full display in his sleeveless tank top. Usually, the sight would send your mind reeling. But now you barely even glance towards them.

“Hi, Sunghoon.”

He nods, coming to a stop a few feet in front of you. He’s close enough for you to see the moles on his face, but far enough that you can’t smell his usual expensive cologne. A complete opposite of Heeseungs soft cedarwood and linen.

Why the fuck are you thinking about Heeseungs cologne right now?

“I haven’t seen you in a while,” he says shyly, eyebrows knit together. “I’ve…missed hanging out with you.”

Your heart skips a beat, but for all the wrong reasons.

“Sorry,” you murmur with a shrug. “I’ve just been super busy lately. You know how it gets.” It’s not a lie, you have been busy. Just…busy with Heeseung.

He pauses, his tongue darting out to lick at his lips. He looks like he’s contemplating his next words, which is something you’ve never seen him do. It hurts a bit that your relationship has turned into this. Just a month ago the thought of ignoring Sunghoon would’ve seemed unfathomable. Both of you being in separate relationships (given yours is fake) would’ve been a complete joke. And yet here you are, talking like complete strangers.

“Yeah,” he says eventually, the words quiet and hesitant. “I’ve seen you and Heeseung around campus. I was a little surprised, honestly.”

Your response is dry. Bordering on the edge of annoyance. “Yeah. So was I.”

You both know you’re not talking about Heeseung. For a moment, he almost looks regretful.

“[Y/N]-”

“Hey.” 

You didn’t even notice Heeseung's beat up Honda pull onto your street, nor notice him walk out of it. He’s dressed casually in a Decalis University sweatshirt and gray sweatpants. His camera hangs off his neck and rests against his stomach, and his hand instinctively hovers over it as he approaches.

Relief floods your chest at the sight of him. You don’t know why. It must be some kind of hormonal thing.

Sunghoon takes a step back like he’s trying to put up an invisible wall between you. The two live together, and yet the tension radiating off of them makes you wonder what their living situation must be like right now. Jake must be in a constant state of stress.

“You’re late,” you murmur.

Heeseung smiles, his hand reaching for yours and pulling your wrist to his mouth. He leaves a soft kiss on your inner wrist, and your cheeks flare at the gesture. 

“Sorry,” he mumbles against your skin. “Traffic.”

You fold immediately. “It’s fine. I was just worried.”

Sunghoon must sense that he’s no longer wanted, because he murmurs a soft goodbye and makes a swift exit. You watch as he jogs away, his forming growing smaller and smaller, and it doesn’t hurt like it used to. It just feels like…nothing. You look back to Heeseung, and any tension you had melts.

“What was that about?” He asks.

You shrug. “Was just saying hello.”

“And?”

You raise a brow. “And what?”

“Did he say anything about me? About our relationship?”

Oh. Right. You’re in love with Sunghoon.

“Oh,” you clear your throat and attempt to act like you hadn’t completely forgotten your deal. “Yeah, he did. I think he’s jealous, but he’s still with Chaewon, so does it even really matter?”

“Trust me, it does.” He snorts, leading you over to his car. “He was talking to Jake last night about how he apparently isn’t feeling any sparks with Chaewon. He wants to break up with her.”

That’s good. That’s what you wanted. You should be ecstatic and your heart should be fluttering in your chest. Instead, all you feel is a cold pang of disappointment.

“Good! That's great. Amazing, even.” You say, attempting to sound the littlest bit excited, but it just comes off flat and dull. Like you’re talking about an assignment and not the boy you’ve been in love with for months.

He gives you a side-eye as he opens the passenger door for you, and you slip in like it’s second nature. At this point, it is. “You don’t sound too excited,” he observes.

You’re not, but you can’t say that. “I’m just shocked, I guess. I don’t understand why he even got with Chaewon in the first place if he didn’t feel anything for her. It’s kind of…mean.”

Heeseung takes a second to respond as he climbs into the driver's seat. He wordlessly hands you his phone and lets you put on your playlist–something you hadn’t even realized was an option. You play Ariana Grande and watch as Heeseung tries to act like he doesn’t enjoy it.

“Sunghoons always been like that,” he says eventually. “He’s impulsive. Doesn’t think about what he’s doing until he’s regretting it and trying to act like he’s not.”

“Why?”

Heeseung shrugs, glancing at you from the corner of his eye for a split second before going back to the road. “Don’t know. It’s just how he is.”

You chew at the inside of your cheek and look out the window. The campus passes by in a blur, people walking to class together, pigeons scavenging for any scraps they can get, the lecture hall you walk to every morning. It’s familiar. Comfortable.

You look back to Heeseung, and instead of annoyance, you get the same feeling you do when you’re looking at campus. Familiarity. Comfort. And it scares you so much your throat nearly constricts.

“Well,” you croak, running a hand through your hair, “that’s stupid. And all it does is hurt the people around him.”

“Yeah,” he agrees softly, “it does.”

You don’t talk the rest of the car ride, and you’re thankful for it. Your mind is too alert for conversation right now. You can smell his cologne, can hear him humming along to Needy by Ariana Grande, can feel his presence consuming your very soul. It’s too much. It’s not enough.

You don’t hate Lee Heeseung. Because your mother used to say that hate was just another word for love, and that is the last thing you feel for the boy you grew up with.

When you arrive at the park, you’re entirely too eager to get out of the car. You barely wait for him to park before you’re practically stumbling out of your seat with the ordinance of a baby giraffe. 

Heeseung gives you a look, but he doesn’t say anything about it. Just directs you to where he wants to go with confidence. His hand hovers at your lower back–never touching–just there. Like he’s unsure of what to do with himself when you’re not around your friends and having to keep up your act.

You don’t comment on it.

Eventually, he takes you to a small pond in the middle of the park. There’s white lilies around the water, each of them dancing in the wind while the water flows around them. The sun is bright, shining in your eyes and making you squint slightly. It’s pretty beautiful, actually. You had no idea this place was so close to your campus.

Heeseung directs you on how to pose. How to smile like you have no idea you’re being watched. It’s awkward at first, mostly because the only time you’ve ever had someone take pictures of you like this was during your high school graduation, but it doesn’t take long for the tension to ease into something softer. Easier. 

He tells you to sit on the grass and tilt your head towards the pond–but each shot he gets just doesn’t feel right.

“Maybe lean more towards the left?” He mumbles, hand flying out to gesture at you. You do as he says, but apparently, he’s still not getting the shot he wants. 

He clicks his tongue in frustration, “no–that’s not–just–let me fix you.”

You furrow your brows. What does that even mean? “You don’t need to fix me, Heeseung–”

He interrupts you with a laugh. “Not like that, idiot. God, you’re always so defensive.”

You part your lips to retort, but before the words can get out, he’s walking towards you and your chin is in his hand, and you suddenly forget how to communicate entirely.

He tilts your head where he wants it, the pink of his tongue poking out the tiniest bit. His face is so close that it takes everything in you to not remember how he’d tasted when his tongue was in your mouth.

You feel your cheeks heat up, but you let him do what he needs to.

“There, that’s the angle.”

“You couldn’t have just told me to tilt my chin up?”

He smiles and goes back to his camera. “I did, princess. You just don’t listen.”

God, he’s so annoying.

But still, your lips curve up and your heart gets that same feeling it did at the party. The one that you’re not quite ready to name.

“Do we really have to go to this brunch?” You groan, flopping down onto your bed. “Sunghoon and Chaewon are going to be there, and I really don’t feel like watching them be all over each other.”

Yunjin shakes her head, “that’s exactly why we have to go. So that you and Heeseung can do it right back to them.”

“They already saw us kiss! What more do we have to do? Feed each other and do that weird baby talk bullshit couples do?”

Yunjin gags and rolls her eyes. “I don’t know what couples you’re talking to, but please tell them I said to stop doing that immediately. But, no, that’s not what I meant. How is it going to look if everyone's there except for you and Heeseung?”

“Um, fine? No one’s going to care.”

“It’s going to look suspicious. Everyone knows you had a thing for Sunghoon before he popped out with Chaewon. You and Heeseung need to prove to everyone–not just Sunghoon–that you’re actually in love.”

You sigh. You know she’s right, you just hate it. Why do you need to prove your fake relationship to your friends? It feels wrong. It feels like lying.

Actually, it is lying. 

“I hate lying to everyone,” you sigh, hugging your pillow to your chest. “Makes me feel like a bad friend.”

“You’re not a bad friend,” Yunjin reassures, rolling her chair over to you. It gets caught on the rug for a moment, but she’s quick to force the wheels to move again. “Besides, what they don’t know won’t hurt them.”

You give her a look. “That’s like, the worst advice you’ve ever given me.”

She chuckles, “sorry I’m not well versed in the art of therapy for fake dating. I’ll make sure to switch my degree to better accommodate you.”

“That would actually be great, thank you.”

She takes in a breath, her hand reaching for yours. “Just…don’t think of it as lying. Think about it like two friends helping each other out.”

“He’s not my friend.” You scoff, but the words don’t hold any bite behind them. Not like they used to, at least.

Yunjin grins knowingly. “Yeah, he is.”

You don’t bother correcting her again.

Brunch is at noon at that diner off of fifth. The same one you’d gone to when this entire mess started. The same one you’d started falling in love with Sunghoon at. It’s weird now, seeing how much your life has changed in the short amount of time since you were last here.

You have a fake boyfriend now. You don’t talk to Sunghoon. Your life feels like it’s falling apart and coming back together all at once.

You and Heeseung sit next to each other wordlessly, both of you more cautious about touching. It feels like there’s enough space between your leg and his to fill out the Grand Canyon. It shouldn’t bother you, but it does.

Sunghoon holds Chaewon's hand under the table, and their shoulders brush every time they move. It’s irritating and annoying and you strangely enough couldn’t care less about it. That sense of jealousy you’d felt the last time you were here no longer spills over your guts like acid, instead you feel nothing.

You try to force yourself to remember what you’d liked about Sunghoon. He’s kind. Smart. Dedicated. Absolutely fucking gorgeous.

But he’s not…

“Honestly,” Jake says between spoonfuls of biscuits and gravy, “when Yunjin told us you guys were seeing each other, I thought she was lying. I mean, you guys couldn’t even be in the same room without having some kind of argument.”

You tuck a strand of hair behind your ear nervously, “yeah. I was pretty surprised too.”

You don’t miss the way Heeseung cracks a smile at that. “It was kind of sudden, but I'm glad it happened.” He says easily, “means I finally get to stop pretending I can’t stand her.”

You can tell he hadn’t meant to say that last part, because his eyes go wide and he tenses for a second. Not long enough for anyone to catch it, but you do. You see the way fear flashes behind his irises for a moment, the way his breath catches before filling out his chest once again.

Sunghoons throat bobs as he swallows, dark eyes darting between the two of you slowly. “Pretending?” He asks cautiously, like he’s testing the words on his tongue.

But you don’t care about Sunghoon. All you can think about is what Heeseung said. I finally get to stop pretending I can’t stand her. Is he being honest? Or is this all just a part of your act? You hate that you can’t tell.

“Uh,” he laughs nervously, bringing a hand up to scratch at the back of his neck. “When we were in school, I didn't know how to get her attention. She was smart and kind and friends with everyone, and I was just…there. She used to do this thing in kindergarten where she’d wait for everyone else to fall asleep during naptime before she did because she didn’t want anyone to have to sit there alone, and I remember thinking she must’ve been sent by some kind of angel.” He laughs then, a genuine one. The kind that lights up his entire face.

You hadn’t even remembered you did that, but it’s true. You did. It always just felt like the right thing to do, but the fact that he remembers it all these years later makes you feel almost dizzy. 

“I think it was in third grade when I figured the best way to get her attention was to piss her off,” he continues. “I don’t know why. But I spent the next ten or more years making sure I annoyed her to the best of my ability. I think I just decided that I’d rather have her hate me than not have her in my life at all.”

The table is silent aside from the people talking around you. They’re all having normal conversations while you're going through the biggest existential crisis of your life. You understand that this is supposed to be fake–but that didn’t feel like something he made up on the spot. It felt like he was finally coming clean about something that’d been sitting on his chest for years. And if that’s true, where does that leave you?

“Heeseung…” You attempt, eyes searching the side of his face. When he turns to you, he looks more sincere than you’ve ever seen him. His hand reaches for yours under the table and he intertwines his fingers with yours. The hold is gentle, soft, right. It feels like you’re exactly where you were always supposed to be.

“Sorry,” he laughs, turning back to the group. “That was kind of sappy.”

“Nah, man, that was beautiful.” Jake murmurs, bringing a hand up to his chest. “I’m happy for you guys, seriously.”

“Yeah,” Sunghoon nods, “you guys are good for each other.” He looks resigned. Like he’s accepting defeat. It makes something click in your brain.

For the first time in your life, you think you’re starting to see Heeseung exactly for who he is.

You don’t notice the way he looks at Sunghoon. Or how he swallows back his pride and comes to terms with what he knows he has to do.

You don't comment when he pulls his hand away from you, you just assume it's because he wants to be able to properly eat his food.

When brunch is over, you say your goodbyes to everyone with a pep in your step. You know that telling Heeseung how you’re feeling might complicate things, but he basically just confessed that he remembered things you did in kindergarten. You don’t remember that kind of stuff unless it means something, right?

“I’ll walk you back to your dorm?” He murmurs next to you, and you nod.

“I’d like that.”

There’s tension in the air as you walk, one that you’re practically dying to address. But Heeseung doesn’t look like he did in the diner. He looks conflicted, scared–he keeps his eyes ahead and his hands shoved into his pockets. Nothing like the bright boy you’d been sitting next to barely an hour ago.

“Are you okay?” You ask, voice soft.

He doesn’t even glance at you. “I’m fine.”

“Then why do you look like a kicked puppy?” You attempt to joke, but he doesn't laugh. Instead, he pauses on the sidewalk, and you barely get a few feet in front of him when you notice he’s stopped.

“What’s going on, Heeseung?” You attempt again, reaching for his hand. He pulls it back so sharply you nearly flinch.

“I think…I think we need to stop.” He says finally.

Your heart drops. “What? Why? Did I–Did I do something to make you uncomfortable?"

“No, no, it’s not–” He runs a shaky hand through his hair, “fuck, it’s not you.”

You raise a brow. He’s not making any sense. He wants to stop now? After what he said in the diner? “Then what is it?” You snap.

He shakes his head like the words are too painful to speak. “You like Sunghoon, [Y/N], and he’s going to break up with Chaewon soon. I got the pictures I needed for the competition. There’s no reason to drag this on any longer than we already have.”

His words shouldn’t feel like a breakup, but they do. God, they do.  They feel like he’s pulling away from you after you’ve finally come to terms with what you feel for him. “What about what you said in the diner?” You ask finally, voice breaking. “I can’t just act like that didn’t happen, Heeseung. Not when I’m finally–I’m finally…” The words get caught in your throat, but you both know exactly what you mean by them.

His hands squeeze into fists at his side. “That didn’t mean anything, [Y/N].” he says lowly, like breaking your heart is something he does daily. Maybe it was and you just never noticed before. “It was just helping the act. Keeping up the lie. That’s all.”

Tears come to your waterline, the back of your throat beginning to ache from the force of it. “You don’t mean that.”

“I do,” he says firmly, but you can see the way his eyes are beginning to turn glassy. “I really do.”

He turns on his heel then, leaving you alone on the sidewalk and turning his back onto whatever fucked up thing it is you’ve built together. 

Your mother used to say that hate and love were synonymous. You know now that she was wrong.

Because what you feel for Lee Heeseung has nothing to do with love, and everything to do with pure, unadulterated hate.

Your phone chimes, and when you check the notification, what you see doesn't make you feel good. It doesn't bring joy to your heart or make you want to skip down the street. Instead, it makes your heart break a little bit more.

Yunjin: Sunghoon just broke up with Chaewon. We’re so in

You should be happy. This is exactly what you wanted, right?

So why do you feel like you just lost the one thing that mattered the most?

You haven’t talked to Heeseung in three weeks. He transferred out of your shared class–something you didn’t even know was possible this late into the semester–and stopped showing up to any group hangouts. Not that you care, obviously. 

The both of you said your breakup was mutual. That the stress of school and work just didn’t make a relationship possible, but there weren’t any hard feelings. Jake had raised a brow at the entire thing, but ultimately accepted it without a word.

But, Sunghoon seeing the both of you being single at the same time again, decided that meant he could shoot his shot. Which is good–it was the entire point of this entire thing, right?

Sunghoon is nice. He holds the door open for you and he pays for your meals and he takes you back to that coffee shop the both of you loved so much.

He is perfect for you in every sense.

But when he sits next to you, you don’t feel that same spark low in your belly. When he makes a joke, you don’t laugh until you swear you’re going to run out of oxygen. He doesn’t look at you like you mean something to him.

Yunjin's not dumb, she knows something's wrong. Just a few months ago you would’ve been ecstatic at the idea of going on dates with Sunghoon, so why do you seem like you couldn’t care less about him now?

“Are you okay?” She asks, voice filled with concern. “You’ve been…distant.”

“I’m fine,” you answer a bit too quickly. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I don't know, why don’t you tell me?”

You blink, turning to look at her in your mirror. You’re in the middle of getting ready for you and Sunghoons third date. He told you to dress nicely for dinner, but all you can think about is the fact that Heeseung would be presenting his pictures for the contest tonight. You didn’t even get to see them, which is more annoying than anything else.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Yunjin.” You lie.

She sighs, crossing her arms over her chest and making her way over to you. She smooths down the hem of your skirt without a second thought. “Fine. You don’t have to tell me but, if it’s because of Heeseung–”

“It’s not.”

“–If it’s because of Heeseung, then I’d understand.”

You freeze, eyes snapping to hers. You never told her about the last conversation you’d had with Heeseung, because you figured there wasn’t really any point. He’d “broken up” with you, and that was that. It doesn't mean anything else.

You want Sunghoon. You know you do. It’s the entire reason you and Heeseung came up with that stupid plan in the first place. You aren’t going to throw away a good guy because you’d gotten confused.

“It’s not,” you lie again, “I’m just stressed with finals and stuff. That’s all.”

Yunjin obviously doesn’t believe you. You don’t blame her, of course. You’ve always been an awful liar.

She doesn’t say anything for a moment, and you’re already dreading what she’s going to say. Every time Yunjin goes silent, it always means she’s going to say something that you probably don’t want to hear. 

“You know,” she starts, voice soft and low, “I’ve never seen you look at anyone the way you looked at him.”

You freeze, a shiver rushing down your spine like ice cold water. “What?”

“I just mean–” She backtracks for a moment before deciding to just say it, “you never look at Sunghoon the way you looked at Heeseung. You looked…happy with him. Like, actually happy. Not just because you thought you were supposed to be, but because you actually felt it.”

You go silent at that. You were happy. Even if you hadn’t wanted to admit it–even if you were fighting it for whatever reason. “I’m happy with Sunghoon.” You say with finality, but you both hear how your voice shakes.

“If you say so,” she sighs, turning back and sitting at her desk. “What’re you guys doing tonight?”

You’re grateful for the change in topic. “He’s taking me to dinner,” you shrug, clipping on your earrings. “Somewhere fancy, I guess.”

She hums. “Do you think he’s going to kiss you tonight?”

God, I really, really hope not.

“I hope so,” you answer instead. Maybe kissing Sunghoon will be exactly what you need to get your mind off of him. “I think I’ve waited long enough.” You laugh, but it’s weak. Dishonest.

Yunjin frowns at the sound of it, but she doesn’t push. “Yeah,” she mumbles, “me too.”

Sunghoon arrives at five on the dot. Just like he said he would. You should’ve been watching the clock because you were excited for him to get here, but instead all you could think about every time you glanced at it was how nervous Heeseung must be right now. The contest starts at seven, which means he finds out in the next two hours if he wins the money. Your hand twitches at your side. You want to text him and say good luck, but you don’t. 

“You look beautiful,” Sunghoon says. He’s all dark hair and dark eyes, not a single hair out of place. His suit looks expensive, and you wonder if he bought it just for the occasion. That definitely feels like something he would do.

“Thank you,” you respond, hoping he doesn’t see how fake your smile is. “You clean up pretty nicely as well.”

“I try,” he jokes, outstretching his arm for you. You take it easily, but it doesn’t feel right in your palm. It’s sturdy, easy. But, it doesn’t have any of that fire that you think it should.

Sunghoon is a gentleman the entire night. He takes you to eat, makes corny jokes, kisses your knuckles with pink cheeks. And it’s good. It’s so, so good. It’s exactly what you’ve always wanted.

But when you close your eyes, it’s not Sunghoon you see.

It’s dirty blonde hair covered by some ratty baseball cap. It’s that fucking teasing smile that you used to hate seeing. It’s watching him grow up and having him remember things about you that you’d completely forgotten about.

It’s him. Heeseung.

Sunghoon leads you to your front door nervously, his eyes searching yours like he’s trying to get some kind of read on you. You wonder if he can see that your heart isn’t here–that it never was.

“I had a good time tonight,” he says, lips curling up into a soft smile. “I hope it was the same for you.”

“I…” Your words catch in your throat. You know what the logical thing would be to do right now. Accept his compliments, kiss him sweetly, go into your room giddy and wait for him to text you. But it’s wrong. It’s so, so wrong.

“Sunghoon,” you start, eyes filling with tears. “I’m so fucking sorry.”

He’s silent for a split second, like he’s trying to process your words. “Why?” He asks, “Did something happen? Did I–Did I do something?”

God, you wish he had. That would make this entire thing so much easier. 

“No,” you laugh wetly, “It’s not you. It’s–it’s me.” You know it’s cliche, but it's true. Because while you should’ve been enjoying him tonight, all you could think about was Heeseung. About the way he’d kissed you at the party. About how he always looked at you like there was more he wanted to say but he just never knew how.

Sunghoon blinks, his eyebrows knitting together and creasing his forehead. “What?”

“You’re perfect, Sunghoon.” you start, the words flowing out of you like you’re finally admitting them to yourself. “And for a long time, you were everything I ever wanted. You went to the cafe with me. You invited me to your games. I thought–I thought that I’d finally found the person I was meant to be with.”

“I–I don’t understand,” he murmurs, “Is that not how you feel anymore?”

Your heart constricts as you shake your head. “I wanted to. I really, really tried to remind myself of how I felt for you before. But…”

It takes him a second, but you see the exact moment recognition flashes across his face. He takes a step back from you, lips falling into a straight line. “But I’m not him.”

You can’t help the sob that rips from your throat. “I’m so sorry, Sunghoon.”

You half expect him to yell, maybe flip you off and drive off in his Porsche while he gets Chaewon on speed dial. But he doesn’t. He stands there for a long moment, breathing slowly, tongue poking the inside of his cheek every now and then.

And then he looks up at you, at the tears staining your cheeks, at how the honesty ripped out of you like a force of nature. He checks his watch–6:50 pm. Ten minutes before the contest starts.

“Come on,” he says, already jogging to the driver's seat.

You’re frozen, watching him with wide eyes. Did he not hear what you just said? “Sunghoon–”

He gives you a look so sharp it nearly steals the breath from your lungs. “We’ve got ten minutes to make it to that contest, and unfortunately, I’m not very big on breaking traffic laws. So, hurry up and get in!”

You gawk at him, a smile curling onto your lips, but you run into his car, nevertheless.

He was right, he’s not big on breaking traffic laws. But you see he’s going five over the speed limit compared to his usual three, and that feels like it counts for something. Even though you’d been leading him on for the past three weeks, he’s still trying to make sure you’re happy. He’s still looking out for you. 

“Thank you,” you sniffle. And you truly mean it.

His gaze stays glued to the road. "Don't mention it.”

You arrive at the photography center with two minutes to spare. Sunghoon doesn't even let you say bye, just rushes you out of the car and wishes you good luck. You don’t look back as you run inside.

You’re thankful you at least dressed nicely for the date, because everyone in here looks like they come from money. Women in floorlength gowns, men in suits you’re sure cost more than your entire tuition. These must be the donors.

The hall is filled with pictures, some simple–some you think you have to be involved in the community to understand. But even as you practically sprint down the hallway, Heeseung is nowhere to be found.

“Please make your way to the dining hall as the photography committee prepares to announce the winner of this year's $100,000 grant!” A voice rings from the intercom, and you blindly follow the crowd into the large room parallel to the hall.

It’s filled with tables, and there’s a stage right at the front of the room with a podium and a giant projector. There’s nothing on it yet, but you’re assuming that’s where they’ll show the winning portfolio.

The tables all have name cards, so you do your best to conspicuously make your way to the back where nobody will notice you standing awkwardly. Plus, from back here it’ll be easier to try and find Heeseung.

You study the crowd, looking for the familiar head of blonde hair, but you come up empty. For a second, you wonder if he’s even here. He has to be here, you think. This is everything to him.

But every time someone new walks in, it’s never him.

You rock back and forth on your feet, a nervous habit. Pretty soon all the chairs are filled out and Heeseung is still nowhere to be seen. You wonder if he’d dropped out of the contest, but that still wouldn’t make any sense. Why would he drop out when photography was so important to him?

You reach for your phone, half tempted to call him and ask where the hell he was, but the lights dim and the president of the photography committee walks up the podium. She’s an older woman, with pin straight grey hair and huge glasses. She has to pull down the microphone to match her height. Heeseung used to joke that even though she looked like she belonged in a Disney movie, she was the toughest mentor he’d ever had. 

“Thank you all for coming tonight,” she starts, voice light. “We had many great admissions this year. All of which I personally took the time to look through, and let me tell you, there was some tough competition. I almost threw up my hands and gave the money to everyone!” 

The crowd laughs at that, but you can tell it’s just them being polite. “But, unfortunately, we can’t do that. So, after many sleepless nights and lots of talks with the committee, I was able to come to a decision. This year's winner is someone I think has put in more effort into his photos than anyone else I’ve ever had the pleasure of working with. He’s not naturally talented, no, but he’s dedicated. He takes risks. He tries new things and doesn’t shy away when they don’t work.”

The projector begins to come to life. “As you know, this year's theme was muse. The participants were meant to find a singular person and put together a portfolio of said person.”

The first photo flashes against the screen–and your breath catches in your throat. It's you. But it’s not the ones from the park, no, it’s you in class. Your pencil is in between your lips; brows scrunched together the way they always are when you get frustrated. You’re not wearing any makeup–hell, you look like you just rolled out of bed!

Your breath catches as the photos continue. Some of you in class, in the diner, at that God forsaken party. All pictures that look old and new at the same time. You can tell some are from after this entire mess started, when you and Heeseung started to actually enjoy each other's presence. You look happier in those ones.

But there’s some from before too–when the only times you ever thought about Heeseung were when you were thinking about how much you can’t stand him. Those ones are mostly you in class, all of them shot from the same angle. There’s a few of you from group hangouts, and you wonder how you never noticed him taking them. Maybe it’s because you’re just so used to seeing him with his camera that you stopped noticing it entirely.

It’s the last photo that really gets you though. It’s from the park, you’re sitting in the grass, head tilted to the side, lips curling up into a soft smile. You’re looking into the camera–or, behind it actually–directly at Heeseung, and the look in your eyes is enough to knock the breath from your lungs.

You look like you’re in love.

“This year's winner–though I doubt anyone's surprised–Is Lee Heeseung!”

You barely register her words, because all you can see is Heeseung walking up onto the stage. So that’s where he was, you think.

He’s wearing a suit, though it doesn’t look nearly as nice as everyone else's here. His dirty blonde hair is actually styled for once, and his lips are curled up into a small smile. But it’s not the one you’re used to seeing. It doesn’t quite reach his eyes, doesn’t make his face light up like it usually does. Despite winning, he looks almost sad.

He gives a small bow at the podium, shaking hands with the Committee President. He looks nervous as he comes up to the mic, and you squeeze your hands together. Does he want you here? Should you try and make your presence known?

You are the girl in his photos, after all.

“Wow,” he starts, voice shaking slightly. “This is…an honor. Really. I didn’t go into this contest thinking I would win. In fact, I wasn’t going to enter at all. Not until I realized I’d already accidentally found my muse.” He laughs then, but it’s short. “I entered for selfish reasons. Not for the money. Not so that I could get my photos in international shows. But, because I wanted an excuse to get closer to her.”

His eyes scan the crowd, until finally, they land on you. His eyes widen for a moment, lips parting in shock. For a moment, you think he wants you to leave. You wouldn’t blame him if he did.

But he smiles. Really smiles. “None of this would’ve been possible without her.” He continues now, voice more confident. “These photos would’ve sat tucked away in my camera forever. But she made me confident. She reminded me of why I love photography in the first place. So, I’m dedicating this grant to her. To my muse.” His eyes find yours again. “My [Y/N].”

You don’t get a chance to go up to Heeseung until after all of the sponsors have congratulated him, which admittedly takes a lot longer than you think either of you would like.

You can see him on stage, shaking hands with people who you assume must be important. He never keeps his eyes on them for too long. Instead, they trail over to you, like he’s hoping he’ll be able to communicate with you through eye contact.

By the time you can actually speak to him, the hall is mostly empty aside from a few stragglers. He approaches you with caution, like he’s scared of getting too close.

“Hi,” he breathes, stopping a few feet in front of you.

“Hi,” you say back.

The air is softer than it had been the last time you’d seen him. Then, it was harsh. Like smoke filling into your lungs. Now, it feels like a breath of fresh air.

You’re both silent for a moment, like you’re unsure of what to say to each other.

“I broke it off with Sunghoon,” you say eventually, eyes falling to the floor. 

He blinks. “You did?”

“I did.”

“Okay.”

More silence.

“You took pictures of me,” you observe.

“I did.”

“Why?”

He laughs, a full hearty sound, like he’s caught off guard by the question. You don’t know why he would be. You think it’s a perfectly fair thing to ask.

He shrugs, “I felt inspired by you.”

You raise a brow at that. “Inspired? By what—me chewing my pencil like a child?”

He grins, shoving his hands into his pockets. “No. I was inspired by how I felt when I looked at you.”

That makes you pause. “What?”

He fiddles with the corner of his pocket, thumb grazing it once before darting away. He sucks in a deep breath, and then finally, he says everything you know he’s been holding back.

“I’ve been in love with you since we were six years old,” he starts. “Ever since I watched you stay up the entire nap time because Jungwon couldn’t fall asleep. I knew right then and there that I loved you and that I was going to continue to love you for as long as I knew you.”

You can’t help the way your eyes go glassy, heart thumping a million miles an hour in your chest. “Heeseung…”

He doesn’t let you finish. “But I was shy—well, scared is more like it—I was scared that you weren’t going to want to be my friend and I would never be able to be around you.”

“Why would you think that?” 

He shrugs, “why does a third grader think anything?”

You don’t have a reply for that.

He sighs before continuing. “After that it just…became a thing. Our thing. I annoyed you and therefore I got to keep being in your life. Even if it wasn't what I wanted, I figured it was better than not being around you at all.” He swallows, tongue darting out to wet his lips. “But then we got to university and you met Sunghoon and I felt you slipping away from me, and I didn’t know what to do with that. I thought that maybe…maybe it was time for me to let you go.”

Your heart cracks at the strain in his voice, like he’s recalling a bad memory.

“So, I’m sure you can imagine my surprise when Jake came home and started asking me a million questions about our apparent relationship.” 

“Oh, God,” you laugh, shaking your head at the memory. At the time, it’d genuinely felt like the end of the world. Now, you really can’t imagine where your life would be without Yunjin's lie.

For starters, he probably would’ve never told you this, and you would’ve gone your entire life chopping up your relationship to nothing but a high school rivalry that didn’t have any deeper meaning. You would’ve never found out he felt this way—or that you feel the way you do.

“It was good,” he starts again, “pretending. Even though it wasn’t really pretending for me. And then we went to that diner and I just…I got scared. I didn’t want to hold you back from what you really wanted. I thought, she’s hated me for years, at least now she’ll have an actual reason. And I wanted to be okay with that. I really did.” He takes a step closer. “But now you’re here. And I think I know why, but I’m getting tired of assuming things, princess. So, I think you’ll have to tell me.”

You suck in a shaky breath, your own hands fiddling with the hem of your dress nervously. “I…tried. With Sunghoon. I thought it was what I wanted, the easiness of it all. He was kind and he made bad jokes and I thought I was content with that.” 

You roll your eyes, “But then you happened.” You say it like it’s an insult, but you both know it’s not. “And every time I was with him all I could think was how his car didn’t have that mysterious dent in the front. How he didn’t let me play pop music and pretend he wasn’t singing along when we both knew he was. How he didn't make me feel like I actually meant something to him.” 

Your eyes find his for the first time since he approached you tonight. “All I could think about was how he wasn’t you.”

For a brief second, the only noise between the two of you is your breathing and the faint hum of people around you. Heeseung's lips part, his Adam's apple bobbing as he takes in your confession. He’s silent for so long you nearly think you overstepped.

But then he’s taking a step towards you and cradling your jaw with his hand. You don’t move away.

“I’m going to kiss you now, okay?” He says, and the familiarity of his words brings a smile to your face.

“Okay. I trust you.”

And then his lips are on yours.

This kiss is different from the first one. It’s not hungry, not a performance for anyone else. This kiss is solely for you, for the love you’ve found and never plan on losing. It tastes like him and feels exactly like coming home.

His thumb rubs the apple of your cheek, his lips moving against yours slowly. He doesn’t use tongue, but you don’t need him to.

When you finally pull away, he rests his forehead against yours and brings his hands down to your waist. They feel heavy against you, like a claim you never knew you needed.

“I’ve wanted to do that for so long,” he murmurs.

You giggle, bringing your own arms up to wrap around his neck. “Have you?”

“Yeah,” he responds, “along with…other things.”

You raise a brow at that, “yeah? Like what?”

That’s exactly how you end up back at his apartment, his lips moving against yours like he’s trying to memorize your body with them. Jake and Sunghoon are out thankfully, which means you’ve got the entire apartment to yourself. 

Heeseung leads you blindly to his room, never once turning away from you or attempting to look where he’s going. You laugh as he trips over the carpet, but he swallows it with his mouth on yours.

“You’re so beautiful,” he says against you. You don’t even notice you’ve made it into your bedroom before your legs hit the mattress and suddenly, he’s pulling you down onto it. “Been waiting so long to have you like this.”

“Yeah?” You manage to say, your voice airy. “Show me, then.”

He pulls back for a moment, eyes looking directly into yours, and then he’s moving his lips to your neck. He leaves wet kisses down the column of your throat, your shoulder, sucking marks into the delicate skin of your collarbone. 

His teeth graze a particular spot at your neck that makes you gasp, and he processes the noise with a slight groan of his own. He bites down on the spot–not hard, just enough for your back to arch and your fingers to find purchase in his hair. Your legs wrap around his waist as his tongue shoots out to soothe the bite.

Slowly, he brings a hand up to the strap of your dress, his fingers slipping under it but never pulling down.

“Hee,” you practically whine, “please.”

He grins, and then he pulls the strap down ever so slowly. You know he’s teasing you, and the thought makes heat pool between your legs.

Once the dress is off, he throws it to the side and sits back on his heels so he can stare at you. You still have your underwear and bra on, but the sight of your bare stomach and legs is enough for him to let out a low whistle.

“You’re so beautiful, princess,” he murmurs. The sincerity in his voice makes your cheeks hot. “So fucking perfect.”

Your lips part to respond, but he leans down and kisses you again. This kiss is different from all the others. It’s messy and deep and pulls noises out of you that you weren’t even aware you could make.

He sucks on your bottom lip once, and then he pulls away and leaves kisses all down your body. Down your neck, your cloth-covered breasts, your stomach, all the way down until he leaves one final kiss at your ankle. 

He seats himself at the edge of the bed and ever-so-gently pulls you down so your legs hang over the edge of the bed and your cunt is level with his face. He stares at it for a long moment, at the wet patch growing on the lace. At your pretty white panties.

Your hands fist the sheets, legs nearly closing on instinct, but he just pushes them over his shoulders and keeps you open for him. “Don’t hide from me,” he mumbles. His hand slowly trails up your thigh until it finds the edge of your underwear.

He keeps it there for what feels like forever. Never touching. Just looking. 

“Please,” you whimper, “please touch me.”

He grins, “yeah? Want my mouth on you, baby?”

You nod, hips rolling against nothing. “Yes, fuck, please.”

That seems to finally break him, because he licks one large stripe up your cunt through your underwear. You gasp at the feeling, your back arching slightly.

He continues licking small kitten-licks over your panties, and the mixture of his saliva and your arousal begins to turn the cloth nearly translucent.

He groans like the taste of you is his favorite meal. “You taste so good,” he murmurs against you, “like heaven.”

You bite your lower lip to keep yourself from crying out when his tongue catches your clit, and then he brings his hands up to your waist and pulls your underwear down your legs. You don’t miss the way he stares at them for a second before letting them drop to the floor.

He spits on your cunt, watching the way his saliva drips down your slit before he sucks your clit into his mouth.

You cry out at the feeling, your toes curling at his back. He groans at the taste and brings his hands up to your hips, gripping them and keeping them still.

“Fuck,” you moan when he brings his tongue down to your hole, collecting the arousal there like it's his own personal ambrosia.

“All this is for me, right?” He questions, trailing a hand down and rubbing his thumb against your clit. The feeling has your head spinning. “Not for Sunghoon, all for me, isn’t that right, princess?”

You nod feverishly, his possessiveness nearly enough to make you finish right there and then. “Yours! ‘S all yours.”

He smirks, “that’s a good girl.” 

And then he brings a finger to your entrance, circling over it once before letting it slip inside the ring of muscle. The air punches from your lungs at the feeling, but then he sucks your clit into his mouth again while his finger thrusts into you and you really think you’re going to start seeing stars.

“Hee–Heeseung,” you cry, “fuck!”

He hums but doesn’t stop. Instead, he pushes a second finger inside and begins to curl them upwards. You feel him hit that spongey spot inside of you and you know you’re done for.

“I’m close–fuck,”

He doesn’t work you harder, just keeps going at the pace so he can drag out your orgasm for as long as possible. “Come on, baby, cum for me. Show me just how bad you want it.”

That’s all it takes for you to release all over his face and hand. Your muscles tighten and relax over and over again, back arching and vision going white. He groans and licks up every drop, working you through it without a complaint.

You expect him to stop now that you’ve finished, but he doesn’t. If anything, he goes harder. The overstimulation begins to border on the edge of too much, and your hips buck up without your permission.

“Fuck, too much, I cant–”

He doesn’t let up. “Yeah, you can. Come on, wanna see you fall apart for me all over again.”

It doesn’t take long for your second orgasm to crash over you, and this one nearly leaves your body feeling limp and your pulse to blare against your ears.

Your body is still twitching from aftershocks when he climbs up next to you, and you watch with blurry vision as he brings his fingers up to his mouth and licks them clean. He hums at the taste and then brings his hands to the hem of his shirt and slips it off.

Your eyes trail over the sight of his bare chest, noting every ridge of muscle and mole, watching the way his chest heaves slightly. He’s absolutely beautiful, like a painting you’d find at some stupidly expensive art show.

“You’re beautiful,” you murmur.

Now it’s his turn to blush. His ears and cheeks turn a slight shade of pink, but he brings his lips down to yours before you can tease him for it.

Before you know it, his underwear is off and he’s lining himself up with your entrance. He looks up to you for permission, and you nod at him.

Pressure blooms between your legs as he pushes in, but it isn’t exactly painful. It just feels like something you never knew you needed. Like he was made exactly for you.

You keen, back bowing off the bed and eyebrows knitting together. He brings a hand up to cup your cheek and rests his forehead against yours as he finally bottoms out.

You can feel him kissing your g-spot, and he experimentally rolls his hips against yours once. You both groan at the feeling of you tightening around him, and then he pulls out slightly and snaps back in.

You cry out, your nails raking down his back. He hisses slightly at the sting but doesn’t make any moves to stop you. Instead, he begins to rock onto you like his life depends on it. You can feel every ridge of his cock; can feel the way it curves at just the right angle. 

“You feel so fucking good,” he gasps, “so perfect. Always knew you would.”

He buries his face into your neck, his hips snapping against yours like his life depends on it. 

You feel yourself getting close, but before you can warn him your back is arching and you're finishing against him.

He cries out, his thrusts beginning to turn sloppy. “Fuck, fuck, I’m–” He finishes inside you without another word, painting your insides with his cum. 

You both lay there for a moment, trying to catch your breath. He pulls out of you with a low breath and then reaches over for something at his nightstand to clean you up silently.

You watch him as he does, noting the way he cleans up your thighs with so much care. He doesn’t rush the aftercare process either, he kisses your skin gently and murmurs sweet words against you.

By the time your thighs stop shaking and you actually feel like you can breathe without your chest caving in, he’s laying down beside you and pulling you against his chest.

You lay there for a moment, feeling the way his chest rises and falls against your back. The warmth from his skin.

“Heeseung?” You mumble.

“Hm?”

You blink, a smile curling onto your lips. “I love you.”

He doesn’t even hesitate. “I love you, too.”

And for once, you know that you both mean it.

Your mother used to say that hate was just another word for love. And right now, you know that she was right. Because what you feel for Lee Heeseung used to have everything to do with hate, but now you know it was really just another word for love.

Heeseung barely reacts at first, eyes still locked onto the screen, fingers moving like you’re not literally sitting in his lap.

“Hee..” You whine, hips grinding involuntarily despite his words earlier telling you not to move.

“Hold on,” he mutters, focused. “One round.”

You tilt your head, watching him instead of the game, how can this man act normally when he’s so deep inside you?

“‘One round’ like the last three times?”

No answer—just a quiet hm under his breath when something doesn’t distract him.

He felt you clench around him making him exhales sharply, dropping his head back against the chair.

“Fuck—Y/N, baby, stop that, I won’t last.” He groans againts your temple. You can’t help it, the stretch is so good and you can literally feel every vein of his.

You give up, groaning softly as you relax and rest your cheek on his chest while he whistles in victory.

“Good girl, we just did it an hour ago. Just relax on me while I game, yeah?” He huff while his fingers work on the keyboard, turning his head slightly to mouth your temple.

“You got the text about Jay’s birthday party?” You ask suddenly, in which he hums. “Tonight,”

“Get dressed, we’ll go together.” His legs moved the chair to give you space to get up, he pats your hip.

Your thighs shake as you got up, his now-soft length pulls out. He let out a groan.

The sudden wave of cold air hitting your bare privates made the both of you wince and hiss, before looking into each other’s eyes with a soft laugh.

“You still have that outfit in my closet—from two nights ago,” he says. “Go put it on.”

You blink, trying to place which one he means.

“The black one,” he adds, a slow smirk forming. “The one I like, though it was so hard to take off.”

Once you’re both ready, the room feels different—like everything that was chaotic before has been tightened into something deliberate.

Your hair is pulled up neatly, a few soft strands framing your face, and your makeup is done just right—clean, sharp, but still natural enough to make it look effortless. You catch your reflection and adjust your outfit one last time, smoothing it down even though it doesn’t need it.

When you step out, Heeseung looks up—and actually pauses for a second.

Not dramatic. Just… still.

His eyes scan you slowly, like he’s making sure he’s seeing it right.

“…yeah,” he mutters under his breath, more to himself than you.

You raise a brow. “What?”

He shakes it off like he didn’t just stare a little too long.

“Nothing. Let’s go.”

But as you walk past him, he lightly taps your hip—casual, almost absentminded—but his hand lingers just long enough to make it feel intentional before he grabs his keys.

The air between you feels charged in that quiet, familiar way again.

Outside, the night is cooler. The streetlights glow faintly against the pavement as you both head to his car. He unlocks it and opens the passenger door for you without saying much, like it’s automatic by now.

Once you’re inside, he shuts the door and circles around to the driver’s side.

He gets in and starts the engine, and finally glances at you properly again—like he’s still taking you in.

Then he looks away, gripping the steering wheel a little tighter than necessary.

The city lights smear across the windshield as the car moves through traffic, music from outside faint but still pulsing through the windows.

He drives like he always does—calm, one hand on the wheel, the other resting loosely near the gear shift.

Too close. Always too close.

You glance at him once, then look away.

“Hey,” you say.

“Yeah?”

Your voice drops a little. “Remember. Not too touchy tonight. It’s better to have no contact at all.”

He doesn’t look at you right away. Just tilts his head slightly, like he’s considering it.

“I’m not too touchy,” he says after a beat.

You turn your head.

“Last time you literally—”

“I fixed your strap,” he interrupts smoothly, eyes still on the road.

You pause.

“That’s not—”

“It was falling. You don’t want to flash everyone in the club.”

You exhale, looking forward again, unimpressed. “That’s not the point, Hee. They gave me a suspecting look and it weirded me out. It’s uncomfortable.”

A short silence settles.

Then you add, quieter, “And don’t call me baby in front of them. Or any other stupid petnames you always do.”

That time, his fingers tap once on the steering wheel. Slow.

He glances at you briefly, then back to the road.

“…you’re serious.”

“They’re gonna question it. And! we’re not a couple.”

Another beat.

The car moves under green lights, steady. Then he says, almost casually, “You’re fine with everything else though?”

You don’t answer immediately.

Your grip tightens slightly in your lap.

“That’s not what I meant.”

He hums under his breath, like he doesn’t fully agree, but he doesn’t push it either.

Instead, he just nods once. “Alright.”

But the air in the car shifts anyway.

Being with him like this feels… normal. Almost annoyingly so. And when you have talks like these, reminding him about your rules, it’ll always ruin the mood a little.

Years of knowing each other—childhood friends first, then somewhere in college it blurred, then now in adulthood it’s become this unspoken thing neither of you really defines out loud.

It’s easier that way.

At least, that’s what everyone else thinks.

To your friend group, you’re just the two who are always together. The ones who naturally drift toward each other in every room, every gathering, every late-night decision.

No one questions it.

No one looks twice.

No one knows that almost after every hangout, you both head to his or your apartment—making each other feel good.

“It’s like they’re choosing a club so far away on purpose.” He clicks his tongue, looking at the Maps app.

You look at the scenery outside, the night sky, other cars passing by. You’re grateful he changed the topic.

Almost 20 minutes later, we’ve finally arived to an unfamiliar club, picked by Jay and the others.

Heeseung parked the car, cutting the engine and turning to look at you. He didn't make a move to let go of your hand, his grip still firm as he looked you over silently for a moment.

"You ready?" He asked, a hint of a smirk on his lips—an attempt at humor to hide the worry in his eyes. You nod, and both of you got out of the car and walked towards the entrance.

“No petnames, no touches.” You remind him.

Heeseung paused at that, his expression almost comically annoyed as he stared at you for a long moment. A low huff of breath left him as he ran a hand through his hair, muttering under his breath.

"Damnit." he said, the word low and almost petulant. "I was looking forward to you clinging to me all night like a damn koala."

“What are you talking about, you silly.” You flick his bicep, “I’m not your girlfriend and we’re not some—couple to be so…PDA-ish.”

Heeseung's smirk vanished instantly, replaced with something that looked dangerously close to hurt for half a second before he schooled his expression back into nonchalance. He rubbed the spot you flicked with an exaggerated wince.

"Ow." he muttered—too sharp to be just about the flick. "You're right. We're not."

A pause as he met your eyes again, his tone deliberately light: "Guess I'll have fun flirting with someone else then."

Heeseung didn't say anything as you scoffed at him, simply following you into the club. He kept his hands in his pockets now, keeping a comfortable distance between you as the other members came into view.

"About goddamn time." Jay's voice cut through the low thrum of music as he noticed you both, his usual smug smirk in place. "Almost thought you two were ditching."

“Who the hell chooses the club? Why is it all the way downtown?” Heeseung grumbles as he took the glass Jake offered as soon as you both went to the group’s booth.

Your friends, the two guys and one more, Beomgyu and two girls, Yunjin and Ryujin is already there.

Yunjin smiles at the both of you before hugging you, talking about missing you the whole day even when she saw you two days ago during a hangout while Ryujin laughs.

Your friendgroup was formed during college, Heeseung was friends with Jay and Jake first, and then later on was introduced to Beomgyu which knew Yunjin and Ryujin.

Heeseung introduced all of them to you, he knew you’re someone reserved and doesn’t need to be in big friendgroups to have a great college life, and you’re content with just having Heeseung as your bestfriend.

However, he promised you these people are worth to be friends with. Real people with real feelings. No drama—just a couple of friends who are always up to weekend getaways and party nights.

Sitting beside the girls, Heeseung sat a few meters away from you, his gaze darting over to you every now and then as the night went on. He was uncharacteristically quiet—only throwing out sarcastic comments now and again while the others chattered.

He was trying so hard not to look at you it was almost funny, his jaw still clenched, teeth grinding slightly.

However, you’re completely unaware how much you’re hurting him right now.

It was a little after a few hours of drinking that everyone was starting to get a bit tipsy. The others were all laughing and chatting, getting rowdier as the alcohol started to go to their heads.

Heeseung, however, remained sitting quietly in his corner of the booth, his gaze never straying far from you. His expression was almost brooding as he sipped at his beer—a stark contrast to the overall atmosphere of the group.

“Hey guys, the birthday boy has a suggestion!” Jake laughs as Jay stands up, clearly too tipsy for his well-being. “Alright, friends.”

He looks around, before turning to us again. “The single ones, tonight everyone needs to get laid.” The others are already chiming in with excited replies.

In the group, only Jake has a girlfriend, someone who’s not in our friendgroup. You saw her a few times during hangouts where he’d bring her but she’s not here tonight.

“Hell yes.” Yunjin cheers, “Gotta find someone to make out with tonight!” The others join, yelling about not wanting to go home tonight or, having their protections ready.

“Wait, so we’re seperating?” You ask and the group’s eyes turn back to you, a chorus of agreeing nods and reassurances greeting you.

“Duh,” Jay smirks. “It’s the perfect time to pick up some cuties, right, Heeseung?” He looks at the man who has been silent since the conversation started.

He looks at you, before looking away, “Yeah, plenty on the dance floor.”

Jake looks at you, “I’ll leave early then, what about you, Y/N?”

I turn to the girls. “Seriously?”

Ryujin shakes her head, gaze going to the crowded dance floor. “There are some fine ass guys here. No way I’m gonna glued to your side all night.” She laughs.

You groan at that, watching everyone slowly leaves the booth.

Everyone except one person.

Heeseung sets his drink on the table and smirks at you, voice soft but clear despite the loud music of the club.

“Guess that leaves just you and me, princess?” He murmur, leaning back againts the booth and spreading his arms across the back of the couch. “You’re gonna keep me company all night?”

“Heeseung, no petnames.”

Hisa smirk faltered for half a second—just long enough to betray the sting of your words. His jaw tightened as he pulled his arms back, resting them on the table instead.

"Right." he muttered, tone clipped. "Y/N."

The way he said it was too formal now—almost cold. He took another sip of beer before adding, "Guess I'll just sit here alone then since you don't want anything to do with me either."

You frown, “I didn’t say that.”

A scoff escaped Heeseung's lips at that—something between a huff of irritation and a laugh.

"Could've fooled me." He mutter, running a hand through his hair. "You've been keeping your distance all goddamn night, avoiding even looking at me."

“Well, the others are around. And that’s our rule?”

He rolled his eyes at that, a sharp scoff cutting through the air. His expression is hard, almost cold.

“Like they care, Y/N.” He replies sharply, “They’re grown adults and they know we’re friends since we’re ten. A little closeness wouldn’t make them go crazy.”

You sigh, “But—”

Heeseung cut you off with a sharp, frustrated gesture of his hand.

"But what?" he bit out, voice low and rough—almost pleading now. "You're acting like I'm some dirty secret. Like this is something to be ashamed of."

A pause as he ran a hand over his face before muttering: "Just tell me what the hell you want from me."

“…You know they make a big deal once there’s a couple in the friendgroup.” You look down.

Heeseung let out a dry, brittle laugh at that, almost bitter. "Yeah. Just like you make a big deal out of me saying goddamn petnames."

He leaned back in the booth, fixing you with a dark gaze. "What's it matter? Are you embarrassed of me or something?"

You look at him, “What? Of course not!”

Heeseung's jaw tightened at that, his grip on the beer bottle turning white-knuckled again. He stared at you for a long moment—silent, calculating.

"Then why?" he finally bit out, "You act like I'm some secret to hide. Like this isn't real."

A pause as he shook his head slightly. "Fuck it. Forget I said anything."

You stood up, taking his hand. “Whatever, let’s dance.”

Heeseung's eyes widened in surprise for a half-second. His gaze flickered down to where you held his hand, something like hope flickering across his face—almost too brief to catch. He let you pull him up from the booth, but his grip tightened on your hand as he looked at you, almost uncertain.

"You're not just doing this to shut me up, are you?" he asks, voice gruff.

You didn’t reply as you drag him. Heeseung let you lead him to the dancefloor, his eyes never leaving you as you moved through the crowd. The music was low and sensual—perfect for the kind of dancing that required touch.

He placed a hand on your hip—hesitating for a moment before pulling you flush against him, chest-to-chest. His hand stayed there, grip firm and possessive.

He lets out a soft hum, his hands moving slowly to feel your back. Your breath hitch, as your fronts kept brushing while you sway to the music.

But you can’t let anyone see this.

“Heeseung, I said dance—“ Your palms softly againts his chest to push him away. “Y/N, it’s just one dance.” He looks into your eyes, pleading now.

“No. Don’t be too close, Hee. The others are going to see.” You say, and that made him snap.

Heeseung exhaled sharply through his nose, frustration flashing across his face as he finally let go of your hip—hands raising in mock surrender.

"Fine." he bit out, stepping back just enough to put space between you two. His jaw was still clenched tight though, eyes burning with something unreadable. "You want distance? You got it. I’m done.”

He took another step back into the crowd—letting the bodies around them swallow him up until all you could see was a flash of dark hair and tense shoulders before he disappeared entirely.

You know you didn’t just pushed him away physically, but mentally as well.

“…Fuck.” You mutter to yourself as you try to get away from the crowd.

You wove your way through the people, trying to weave through the packed club. The music was loud and crowded—flashing lights and hot bodies everywhere.

You stumbled around another group of people, muttering under your breath as you tried to search for any sign of Heeseung. "Dammit." you cursed under your breath, "Where did that idiot disappear to…"

Your gaze flickered over the crowd—searching the sea of bodies for a familiar head of dark hair. You weaved through the people, cursing under your breath as each passing face proved just how hard it was to find someone in a club this packed.

"Damn it." you mutter again, frustration growing as the minutes ticked on. Where the hell was he?

You give up on searching and just sit back down on the empty large couch that was full with your friends earlier.

“Guess I’m the solo one tonight.” You sigh, taking a sip “By choice.”

And stupidity.

You slumped back into the booth, a sense of defeat washing over you as you realized how alone you were now. Everyone was off in pairs or in groups—and you were stranded in the booth on your own.

Your thoughts kept wandering back to Heeseung—the way he'd looked at you before he stormed off, the way his touch seared against your hips—but you pushed it aside, telling yourself to forget about him for now.

The feeling of being lonely in the club was something you were all too familiar with. Your friends were off with whoever they were hooking up with for the night, while you were left behind, alone in the booth like some third-wheel.

The sense of isolation was crushing. The music was too loud, the lights were too bright, and the people were too drunk. You felt completely alone in the chaos of it all.

However, usually Heeseung would come sit next to you, quickly coming out with conversations that’d make you forget being sad and laugh.

That’s how your best friend would usually come during times like these.

Yeah, your best friend.

Who also is your fuck-buddy. Who isn’t exclusively yours and you always try to stay aware of that fact.

The minutes ticked by like hours, and you sat there in the booth, nursing your drink as you watched the crowd around you. Everywhere you looked, people were dancing together, touching each other, having a good time…while you were stuck sitting there, alone. It was like a cruel reminder of how singled out you were in the club.

You pushed yourself up from the booth and made your way through the crowd, heading towards the washroom. Finally, some solitude.

You pushed the door open and slipped inside, the sound of the music muted now as the door swung shut behind you. The washroom was mercifully empty, and you let out a sigh of relief as you leaned against the sink.

You went out a few minutes after and you caught sight of a couple—pressed up against a wall, all over each other. The man's lips was pressed against the woman's as they kissed, hands roaming over each other and—wait.

His face was familiar, even from this distance. You recognized that face. Heeseung?

Your best friend?

“…Wow.” You mutter softly to yourself as you walk away.

It was definitely him. There was no mistaking that face—the sharp jawline, the dark eyes, the defined features. That was unmistakably Heeseung. He was making out with some random girl in the corner.

Your stomach churned with something you refused to identify as jealousy. You looked away, trying to push down the bitter feeling in your chest.

“I deserved this. I was pushing him away all night.” You sigh as you slumped back into the booth, your earlier frustration giving way to something heavier—something that felt a lot like regret.

The club was still loud, still chaotic around you, but it all faded into background noise as you replayed every stupid thing you'd said to Heeseung in your head.

“Fuck." you muttered under your breath, "I really messed this up."

The bitter taste of the drink on your tongue did nothing to distract from the gnawing guilt in your chest.

You sat in the booth for what felt like ages, wallowing in the realization that it was entirely your fault. You'd spent all night pushing Heeseung away—reacting coldly to his touch, distancing yourself from him as much as possible. And now look where that got you.

The image of him, kissing the girl was stuck in your head like a broken record. You couldn't stop thinking about it—replaying it over and over like some kind of sick punishment.

The guilt was eating you up inside, twisting your stomach in knots. You'd been so hellbent on keeping Heeseung at arm's length, and now look where it got you.

He was off making out with someone else while you sat alone in the booth like a goddamn idiot.

“His dick was literally in me hours ago.”

Your own words hit you like a punch to the gut, sharp and brutal.

You have always been in love with him. Like—how can you not? But in college, you both agreed only to have sex, feel good, and that’s it. Other than that? He’s your best friend.

The lines were blurry sometimes? But Heeseung’s careless. You need to be the one who’s keeping the both of you in check. Reminding it’s all casual.

Or is it?

"Fuck.” You dropped your head into your hands, nails digging into your scalp as if it could physically tear the thought out of you. "I really am an idiot."

The thought of him touching her the way he’d touched you—hands sliding over skin, lips pressed to throat, voice rough in her ear—made your chest burn with something dangerously close to rage. And worse? The fact that he probably didn’t even give a shit about what you wanted anymore.

"I did this."you muttered into your palms, "I fucking pushed him until there was nothing left for me."

A bitter laugh escaped you as the truth settled in like poison: “Guess I got exactly what I asked for."

Your fingers fumbled slightly as you pulled out your phone, scrolling through the app with stiff movements. The club lights were too bright now—too loud, too much.

"Cab in 5 minutes," you muttered to yourself, shoving the phone back into your pocket. You didn’t even bother looking for anyone else in the group—let them stay gone.

The thought of Heeseung stumbling back to an empty booth later crossed your mind…but you crushed it underfoot as you grabbed your jacket and stood up.

You walked towards the exit, shoulders slumped and head down. The cool air of the night enveloped you, like a cold slap to the face—grounding you in a way the stuffy air of the club couldn't. You shoved your hands in your pockets, jaw clenched as you stood outside, waiting for the cab.

The wait felt endless, each second like torture as your thoughts spiraled. You couldn't stop thinking about the look on Heeseung's face when you'd pushed him away—the flash of disappointment, mixed with frustration.

What an idiot you were. You'd had it all, right there, and you let it slip through your fingers like it meant nothing. The guilt gnawed at your stomach, sharp and bitter.

Your thoughts were a mess of images—Heeseung, his touch, the way his voice sounded when he'd said your name.

A bright light suddenly cut through the dark night, jolting you out of your thoughts as a cab pulled up in front of you. The driver called out, asking for a location. You hesitated for a moment, your gaze flicking back towards the entrance of the club—as if for some kind of sign.

But there was nothing waiting for you there. Just the loud music and the flashing lights of the club.

You took a deep breath, pushing aside the ache in your heart as you gave the driver your address.

The cab ride was long—longer than it normally would have felt. You watched the city pass by outside the window—all the people on the street, all the bright lights, all the couples laughing and touching each other. Everything that was out of reach for you now.

Your phone buzzed in your pocket, making you jump a little. You fumbled for a moment, clumsily pulling it out and tapping the screen awake. The sudden light of the screen stung your eyes—blindingly bright after the darkness of the cab.

Your heart skipped a beat when you saw the name on the screen. It was a text from Heeseung.

hee: where the hell are you?

You stare at the message, your heart pounding. Your thumb hover over it, half-tempted to ignore it all together. But damn it, you can’t resist. You type your reply.

you: on my way home.

The reply was almost instant. Your heart gave another painful squeeze, but you couldn't help the little flicker of hope that flared in your chest. Goddamn it all.

hee: alone??

you: everyone’s busy. don’t wanna disturb.

The reply was slower this time—as if he was debating his response. The 'typing' dots appeared and disappeared a few times before Heeseung finally sent the message. You stared at the screen, almost holding your breath as you waited for his next text.

hee: can i call?

you: the driver is a woman, you don’t have to.

Another pause, and then the call notification flashed across your screen. You hesitated for only a moment more before accepting. You put the phone to your ear, heart in your throat.

Heeseung's voice came through the line, low and hoarse. God, those damn chills it sent down your spine should be illegal.

"You left." he said, a note of something almost like hurt edging into the words. It was so subtle, you almost missed it.

“Said you don’t have to call, I’m safe.”

There was a pause on the other end of the line, as if Heeseung was debating whether to say something or not. When he finally spoke again, the words came out sharp and frustrated.

"Damnit, I don't care if you're safe." he muttered, his voice laced with something like irritation and something else you couldn't quite name. "That's not the goddamn point."

You frown, “You don’t care..?”

He sighed, and it came out more like a ragged huff. "I didn't mean it like that, goddamn it. You just—" He broke off, his tone taking on a frustrated edge as he continued.

"You left without saying anything. Didn't even send a goddamn text. Do you have any idea how worried I was?"

“…You were busy.”

There was an incredulous sound on the other end of the line—like Heeseung had just rolled his eyes or something. When he spoke again, there was a hint of bitterness in his voice.

"So? That doesn't matter. I'd never be too busy for you." he grumbled, a note of something like annoyance—or was that hurt?—coloring his words.

"You know that. You could've at least let me know you were leaving. You just disappeared, without a goddamn word."

“Well? With the way I’m alone the whole time and everyone is sucking other people’s lips? Of course.”

Heeseung's response came almost immediately, sharp and biting—a hint of something almost like anger in his voice now.

“You think I wanted this? You think I wanted to spend the night like that? You're the one who kept pushing me away all night. What the hell did you expect." he snapped, the words coming out harsh and frustrated.

"You were so goddamn cold all night—did you really expect me not to go find someone else to keep me distracted?"

“I told you we have to be discreet—“

Heeseung cut you off before you could finish, his voice rising as irritation flared in his tone.

"Yeah, I know. You told me. But damn, was it so goddamn hard to give me a bit of attention? Even a little touch? You acted like you didn't want me near you at all. What the hell was I supposed to do?"

He was definitely angry now—the words coming out harsh and sharp. You could hear him breathing heavily on the other end of the line, like he was trying to control his own emotions.

"You wanted me to act like a friend? That's what you wanted? To push me away anytime I tried to get close? To act like we're nothing more than friends? Fine, I did what you wanted. I acted like I didn't care. Like you don't mean anything to me. That's the whole damn point, isn't it?"

His voice dropped dangerously low at that, sharp and bitter.

"You think I don't know what you want? You think I don’t see it?" A rough exhale came through the phone—almost a growl. “I just spent half the night watching you act like you didn’t even want me to breathe in your direction. So yeah. Maybe I got tired of playing by your goddamn rules."

A pause as his tone shifted slightly—something almost wounded seeping into his next words:

"But sure. Let's pretend this is all on me."

You were speechless, the words cutting into you like a damn knife. Because as angry as he sounded, he wasn't even wrong.

You'd given him the cold shoulder all night, pushing him away again and again—and now you were going to act offended when he went and found someone else to give him the attention you refused him? It was a gut-wrenching realization.

His breathing was ragged on the other end of the line—like he was struggling to keep his voice even. When he finally spoke again, it came out low and rough.

“You really don't get it, do you?" A bitter chuckle. "I didn’t go with her because I wanted to. I did it because you kept pushing me away until there wasn't a goddamn thing left for me."

A sharp inhale—almost pained. "But yeah. Sure. Let's act like this is all my fault."

You sigh, “It’s not your fault, Hee—”

He huffed, the sound sharp and bitter.

"Damn straight it's not my fault. It's yours. You're the one who wanted to keep this a goddamn secret. You're the one who wanted to act like we were just friends."

He let out a low scoff. "Don't get pissed at me for finding someone who wanted to give me the attention you refused to."

The words stung, more brutally than you wanted to admit. Because part of you knew he was right. You'd been the one to set the rules—set the boundaries.

You'd pushed him away every time he got close, every time he touched you, every time he got too intimate.

And now you had the audacity to get pissed off when he finally got tired of the game and found someone else? It was a bitter pill to swallow.

In public, the only time you want to be all touchy feely with someone is when it’s exclusive. When it’s established. Not some hookup, or a fuck-buddy. Even when it’s your best friend. Even when it’s Heeseung.

You start to feel your tension increase as well, “Is this why you called? To bitch at me?”

His huff of irritation was almost a snarl. "No. I called because I was goddamn worried. But then you started this bullshit. You really gonna act like you're the victim here?" He scoffed, his voice taking on a bitter edge. "You've been cold all night, pushing me away every time I tried to touch you. You can't blame me for finding someone else to give me some goddamn affection."

The words felt like a punch to your gut. Because goddamn it, how did this get twisted so much? Hadn't you been trying to do the right thing? To keep things casual, to keep things secret?

But now it felt like you were the bad guy. The one who drove him into another girl's arms. The guilt twisted in your chest, the realization that your rules had backfired coming down on you like a ton of bricks.

“It was mutually agreed in the first place, we keep it from our friends.” You say, tone no nonsense.

He cut you off with a sharp, frustrated sound—almost like he couldn't even believe what he was hearing.

"You really don’t get it. Do you?" His voice dropped to something low and rough—dangerous. "I don’t give a shit about the secret. I care that you act like I'm some dirty little mistake even when we're alone."

A pause as his breathing hitched slightly. "So yeah. Maybe I went looking for someone who won't make me feel like garbage.”

Once he noticed the silence on your end of the line, and he let out a dry laugh—the sound sharp and almost cruel.

"What? Nothing to say now? No explanation for why you've been treating me like I don't even exist all goddamn night?" he muttered, the frustration and hurt coming through in his tone. "Go ahead. Say something. Tell me this isn't all on me. You know you want to."

You were done, you didn’t want to talk anymore as you feel your emotions are starting to get over you, “Don’t you have a girl waiting for you? Hang up.”

Heeseung's laugh this time was bitter—almost angry. He was getting pissed now—angry at you, at the whole damn situation, at himself for even caring so much.

He wanted to snap back, to say something cutting and cruel—to hurt you as much as you hurt him. But instead, he forced himself to take a deep breath, his voice coming out low and hoarse

"Yeah. I do have a girl waiting for me. So why the hell am I even still talking to you?" he muttered, irritation edging into the words.

“Don’t be surprised when I’m not there to wait for you anymore. With the others around or not.”

That was the last thing he said before hanging up.

The tears stung in your eyes as the dial tone cut through the air, the silence in the cab suddenly feeling heavy and oppressive.

You tried to push away the feeling of guilt twisting in your gut, the realization that all of this was your damn fault hitting you like a ton of bricks.

You'd pushed him away, pushed him to look for comfort elsewhere, and now he'd gone and found it. In someone else's arms, someone who was probably giving him the affection you refused to give him all night.

A bitter laugh escaped your lips. Heeseung was right—you hadn't even given him a goddamn explanation for treating him like a dirty secret. You'd just expected him to accept it, to put up with being treated like a mistake you couldn't let anyone find about.

But he wasn't just some goddamn mistake. He was your best goddamn friend, the one person who mattered more to you than anyone else.

And you were treating him like he was nothing more than a dirty little secret to be kept hidden away in the shadows. How goddamn stupid were you?

The tears came even harder now—hot and fast, the weight of guilt and regret crashing over you like a goddamn wave. You'd messed up. And not just a little bit—you'd royally screwed up. You'd pushed away the one person who meant more to you than anything else—all because of your stupid fear of people finding out.

So there you were, sitting in the backseat of a damn cab, crying like a fool over the man you'd driven into another girl's arms.

The image of him with the girl burned in your mind—his hands touching her like they should've been touching you, his head bent close to hers like it should've been bent down to whisper in your ear instead.

You wanted to scream, to turn back time and undo every goddamn stupid choice that led to this moment. Because right now, all you wanted was for him to be there with you—not in someone else's arms.

The last few days had been hell. The image of Heeseung with that girl kept replaying in your damn head like a broken record—the guilt twisting in your gut every time you thought about it.

You'd tried to keep yourself occupied, to throw yourself into work, into anything that would get your mind off of him. But no matter what you did, all you could think about was him. His smile, his laugh, the sound of his voice, the way his hands felt against your skin.

You stayed away from the friend group as best as you could, giving excuse after excuse about why you couldn't hang out.

"I've got meetings this week." "There's a new project I'm helping out on." "Sorry, I can't come out tonight—I'm too swamped with paperwork." A hundred different bullshit reasons, all avoiding the goddamn truth.

The days bled together—same excuses, same routine. You’d show up to the hospital early, leave late, avoid any group texts with a million replies you didn’t have energy for.

And if anyone noticed how quiet you'd gotten? How your eyes kept darting toward the door like some part of you was still waiting for him?

No one called it out.

At least until Yunjin herself comes to your workplace, bringing you out for a lunch break.

She appeared in the doorway of your office, arms crossed and an eyebrow raised. The look on her face was a mix of concern and stubbornness—the kind that said she wasn't leaving without you.

"Okay, what the hell is going on?" she demanded, "You've been dodging us for days. And don't even try to feed me that 'workload' bullshit—I know damn well you're not scheduled for anything, I’m literally in a department next to yours."

Her gaze softened slightly as she took in your tired expression. "C'mon, Y/N. Let's go eat something before I drag you out by force."

You felt like passing out. You can’t believe Yunjin Huh—the manager of the HR department, going all the way to the Finance department for something as personal as a friendgroup problem during working hours.

You continue looking at your computer screen because there’s just no way.

Yunjin scoffed, her arms dropping to her sides as she shot you a look that said "seriously?" She rolled her eyes and pushed off the doorframe, striding into your office without a care for personal space.

"Alright, that's it. No bullshit excuses. You're coming with me, even if I have to drag you out by the ear." she said, her voice leaving no room for argument.

“How the hell did you get in here without work business?” You question, looking at her.

Yunjin shrugged, a sly smirk crossing her face. "Please. I’m the boss’s favourite" she jokes.

She paused, taking in your tired, distracted state. Her expression softened slightly—almost like she knew exactly what was going on. “And stop trying to change the subject. You're coming with me. Period."

Yunjin led the way to the cafe, her expression determined. The cafe was packed with hospital staff, the place buzzing with the usual lunchtime rush. She weaved her way through the crowd effortlessly, finding an empty table near the window.

She plopped into the chair across from you, her eyes scanning your face intently. "Okay. Spill. What the hell is going on? And don't give me any of that bullshit."

You sigh as you lean back.

Yunjin raised an eyebrow, watching you closely as you sighed.

She knew something was up—your expression, your demeanor, the fact that you'd been avoiding the friend group like the damn plague. She leaned forward, her voice softening slightly.

“C'mon, Y/N. You can tell me. You know that. Is this about Heeseung?"

Your gaze snap at her. “How..”

Yunjin rolled her eyes, a small smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth. "Don't act surprised, okay? You two aren't exactly subtle."

Her gaze softened as she took in your expression—the way your eyes flicked away, the way you avoided looking directly at her, the guilt etched into every line on your face.

"Besides, you've been avoiding the friend group for like, a week now. We're not idiots, you know."

You keep quiet. Not knowing what to answer to that.

Yunjin sighed, her expression softening further as she reached across the table and touched your hand.

Her touch was light, but it was grounding—a reminder that she was there, that she cared.

“Hey. Talk to me. What happened between you and Heeseung?“

You look at her. And then your hands together.

“We’ve been sleeping together…all this time.” You reveal to her.

Yunjin's eyes widened at your confession. She hadn't been expecting such a blunt answer and it took her a moment to process what you'd said.

But she was a smart girl, and it didn't take her long to fit the pieces together.

The late nights, the secret text messages, the tension between you and Heeseung… It all made sense now. She leaned back in her chair, her expression a mix of surprise and understanding.

"You've been hooking up the whole time? Since when?”

“Final year.“ You nodded. “And..we didn’t plan on telling you guys because, it was physical. We’re best friends. That’s all. Nothing exclusive.”

Yunjin let out a slow breath, her gaze never leaving yours.

The cafe noise faded into background static as she studied your face—the exhaustion in your eyes, the tension in your jaw. “Y/N.” Her voice was quieter now—less teasing, more serious.

"You don't get to call something 'physical' when you're crying over it for days straight."

A pause as she leaned forward slightly, “So tell me. What's really going on?"

You hesitate before answering.

“I made rules when we were still hooking up, to never show it when you guys are around. But, I was so anxious that you’re gonna caught us, so I just decided to push him away all together. Acting like if he’s too close I’ll burn.” You chuckle, but it didn’t reach my eyes.

“I know what we had was casual, and strictly no feelings involved. We were friends the longest in the friendgroup, so I never wanted to ruin that. And…” You look down, your free hand fumbling.

“And?” Yunjin urges.

“And I freaking like him. I’m in love with him. I think I already did during highschool. And now with intimacy involved? It’s…insane.”

Yunjin nodded—like she'd already guessed as much.

She'd seen the way you looked at Heeseung, seen the chemistry between the two of you. It was obvious to anyone with eyes.

"And he likes you, idiot. Any moron could see that."

Your eyes went to her, before shaking your head.

“Even if that’s true, we still did everything out of order. In what world that can work? And what will the others think?

She snorted, reaching across the table to flick your forehead lightly. "Who cares about 'order'? Since when do you give a shit about what anyone thinks?"

She leaned in, her voice lowering as she fixed you with a dead-serious look. "Heeseung's been obsessed with you for years. And yeah—maybe it started as casual. But that doesn't mean it can't be something more."

A smirk tugged at her lips. "Unless you're too chicken to try."

You huff, “Yunjin, I’m serious!”

She raised an eyebrow, her smirk growing wider. She was enjoying this a bit too much now—the way your face got all worked up, the way you tried so damn hard to be calm and composed…

She leaned in, resting her chin on her hand—still smirking like a smartass. "Yeah? Then what's the problem? If you like each other, just be together. Seems like a no-brainer to me."

“…And if we don’t work? I’m risking my best friend here.” Your lips tremble.

Yunjin's smirk vanished. Her expression shifted—suddenly serious, her eyes sharp as she studied you.

"That's bullshit and you know it." She pointed a finger at your face. "Heeseung isn't the type to throw away years of friendship over one messy breakup. And neither are you."

A pause as she crossed her arms, "But fine—if that's really what scares you? Then tell him how you feel before things go any further. No more hiding behind 'casual' crap when we both know damn well this is more than that for both of ya."

“Easier said than done.”

She rolled her eyes, exasperated now. "Nothing worth doing ever is, idiot. This isn't a Disney movie where everything turns out perfect."

She leaned back in her chair, a sigh escaping her as she ran a hand through her hair. "Look—I get it. It's risky, it's scary…but you're not doing yourself any favor by keeping your mouth shut. You want Heeseung, right?"

You took a deep breath, before nodding.

Yunjin nodded too, her gaze steady on yours.

"Then you gotta take a damn chance" she said firmly.

"Tell him how you feel. Make it clear. Because if you don't, you'll be spending the next who-knows-how-long wondering 'what if' every goddamn time you see him with someone else."

You tilt your head in confusion, “You know about the girl?”

Yunjin rolled her eyes again, scoffing. "Of course I know. You think we're all blind, dumbass?"

She paused, her gaze still locked onto yours. "Heeseung's been weird all week—edgy, short-tempered. None of us are that stupid to not put two and two together. We've been friends with him just as long as you have, you know. We know when he's acting off."

She leaned forward again, her expression turning serious again.

“And even if none of us knew, we aren't blind enough to miss how you've been avoiding everyone like the goddamn plague. Do you have any idea how shitty it feels to see our friend, someone we care about, acting like we don't exist, just because they're too scared to talk about a boy?"

She shook her head, her voice tinged with frustration now. “So yes. I know about the girl. And it's pissing me off to see you let it go down this way."

“A boy who’s also in the same friendgroup as you and can literally make things awkward once we date each other.”

Yunjin rolled her eyes yet again, her expression going fond despite herself. “Regardless, he’s a friend who's head over heels for you. You really think we don't see it? The tension between the two of you? The looks, the stolen touches during hangouts, the way his eyes follow you around like some goddamn lost puppy…?"

She paused, shaking her head as she leaned back in her chair. “Hell, even the way he talks about you when you're not around…it's sickeningly sweet."

Your gaze drop again, “That night, we argued. After I push him away, he just stopped fighting back. We…we never really argued like that before, you know?”

Yunjin's expression softened as she took in your demeanor—the way you were avoiding her gaze, staring down at your hands like your whole damn world was falling apart.

She reached across the table, her voice quieter now, more gentle. "Hey… Look at me.”

"Arguing means you care." Her voice dropped lower—almost fierce now. “You think Jake and his girl never fight? They fight a lot during our hangouts, even sometimes she left without him. It’s hilarious.”

A pause as she leaned in closer, “But the next time we see them? They’re closer than ever.”

Yunjin's grip on your wrist tightened slightly—not enough to hurt, but enough to make you look at her. Her expression was dead serious now.

"Listen to me." Her voice was low, firm.

"Heeseung is a goddamn idiot for letting things go that far with some random girl when it's you he wants. But if you're really this scared?"

She let out a slow breath before continuing,

"Then go talk to him before this gets any more messed up. Or I swear to god, I'll drag both of you into a closet and lock the door until one of ya says something real."

You chuckle, before shaking your head.

“No need, I’ll…try to call him today.” You smile at her, in which she smiled back.

Yunjin's smirk returned, sharp and victorious.

"Good. Because I will follow through on that threat."

She leaned back in her chair, arms crossed—looking way too smug for someone who just basically blackmailed you into fixing your love life. "And if he picks up? Don't be a coward about it. Just say what you mean."

A pause as she pointed a warning finger at you, "Or I will find out…and then we're having another talk."

A few hours had passed since lunch, and the moon was up high in the sky when you finally worked up the courage—your finger hovering over the call button.

Heeseung's contact stared up at you from the screen, the profile picture a stupid picture of him making a funny face. As the phone rang, your heart thudded in your chest.

Each second felt like forever as the call rang once, twice…and then, finally—on the third ring, Heeseung's voice came through the other end of the line.

"Hello?" His voice was casual, almost distant, like he didn't have a clue what you were calling for.

“…Hi. It’s me.” You say quietly.

There was a pause, a beat of silence on his end—then his voice came through again, lower now, a tinge of hesitancy in the words.

"Hey." The single word was quiet, an uncertain exhale. It sounded like he couldn't tell if you were calling to talk or to yell at him again. The thought sent a pang through you—the same guilt you'd had ever since that goddamn argument with him.

You hummed.

Heeseung exhaled on the other end of the line, almost like he was bracing himself. "Spit it out. I know you didn't call just to say uhm."

His tone wasn’t harsh—just tired, a little rough around the edges. Like maybe he hadn't slept well since that night either.

“…Could you pick me up tonight after work? At 11.”

Heeseung went quiet for a moment, clearly surprised by your request.

You could almost hear his brain working, trying to guess what the hell you were up to.

But eventually, he sighed—a resigned sound, like he knew he was walking straight into your trap, whatever it was.

“Yeah, I can." The words came out with a hint of wariness, but it was clear he'd already made up his mind to do what you asked. “I'll be there."

“Thanks, see you, Hee.”

There was a pause on the other end of the line—almost like he was hesitating, wanting to say something before you hung up. But in the end, he didn't.

"See you." He replied, his voice gruff, before the line clicked to silence. You were left with the buzz of the phone in your hand and a churning guilt in your stomach.

A few hours passed as you finished your shift, the minutes ticking by excruciatingly slow as you tried to keep your mind off of the fact that you'd be seeing Heeseung again in less than an hour.

By the time the clock hit 11, your heart was in your throat, your hands shaking a bit walked out of the office building. You were exhausted, the long shift taking its toll on your body…but that was the least of the things on your mind right now.

Heeseung was already there when you walked out—standing outside the building, leaning against his car and lit cigarette in hand.

He looked…tired.

Almost like he'd had a damn long week too, dark circles under his eyes. But of course, being the goddamn handsome bastard he was, it didn't take away how good he looked.

He pushed off the car when he saw you approach, tossing the cigarette and crushing it under his foot.

“Real nice. Smoking in front of a working civilian? Told ya to quit.”

He scoffed, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as he opened the car door for you to get in.

The action was so damn effortless—it was so damn natural, the casual ease he had when he was around you. It made your heart twist a bit, but you pushed the thought away.

"What, gonna go all doctor and tell me the dangers of smoking now?" he said dryly, watching as you got in.

Heeseung walked around the car and got in the driver's seat, starting the engine and pulling out of the building’s parking lot.

For a few seconds, he was silent, staring out the windshield with the same stoic expression he always had.

The only difference was that damn tired look in his eyes, the slight heaviness in the air between you. And then—

"So." He cut through the tense silence, his eyes flicking to you. "You gonna tell me why you wanted me to pick you up at the goddamn office?"

You leaned into his carseat, the familiar scent of his car calming you slightly, but not entirely.

“You always do.”

He rolled his eyes, a scoff leaving his lips as his fingers tightened on the steering wheel. And of course that goddamn motion caught your eye, because damn it, those hands were so attractive.

But no. You weren't gonna get distracted by that tonight, no matter how many times the thought had plagued you in the last week.

“Stop avoiding the question, Y/N." he said, his gaze glued to the road but his voice sharp.

I sighed. “I’m sorry, for acting stupid the other night.”

Heeseung's gaze flicked to you for a second before he focused back onto the road, the muscles in his jaw tensing as he replied.

There was a hint of something in his voice—like you'd just hit a damn nerve.

“That's all I get? Just an apology and nothing else?" His voice was low, rough around the edges. Like he was trying to hold himself back from saying something else, some damn emotion that was itching to come out.

Heeseung exhaled sharply, his grip tightening on the steering wheel again—knuckles going white for a second before he forced himself to relax.

“You kept pushing me away like I was some goddamn mistake." The words came out rough, almost pained. "And then you got pissed when I went and found someone who didn't make me feel like garbage. That's what this is about."

A pause as he shot you a sideways glance, “So yeah. You were acting stupid."

You winced under the harsh words, the guilt in your gut twisting harder at the truth in the words. Because the worst part was, he was right.

You'd been a goddamn hypocrite, expecting him to wait around for you like some idiot while you pushed him away yourself.

But you weren't gonna admit that. Not right now, when he was acting like that.

So you forced yourself to scoff, crossing your arms over your chest defensively—trying to hide the damn guilt from him. From yourself. “That's a goddamn exaggeration and you know it. That’s why I’m apologising right now.”

Heeseung huffed in disbelief at your damn nonchalance, his eyes still fixed on the road in front of him.

But you didn't miss the way his jaw clenched, the way his fingers tightened on the steering wheel—he was trying goddamn hard to hold back his emotions, to keep his cool.

But he was failing. You could see it in the tension in his shoulders, the tightness in his jaw.

He was frustrated.

“Yeah, well…your apology sucks."

“…Want me to write a letter?”

A bitter laugh escaped his lips—short, sharp laugh that sounded more like a scoff. The sound sent a pang through you. Damn it, he really was frustrated.

“How 'bout an essay, smartass." He shot back with a mocking tilt to his lips. “With proper citations and everything."

You sigh, “Are you…still talking to that girl?”

Heeseung's grip on the steering wheel tightened for a split second—his jaw clenching as he shot you a sharp glance. The question clearly caught him off guard, and from the look in his eyes? He wasn't about to let that slide.

“That's what this is about?" His voice dropped lower, rougher. "You want to know if I'm still talking to her? After all that goddamn guilt-tripping?"

A bitter scoff left his lips before he added, "No. Not anymore.”

“I’m not guilt-tripping.” You try to say,

Heeseung scoffed at your denial, the sound harsh and disbelieving. Like you were being a goddamn idiot and he had no patience for it.

“Bullshit,"he said bluntly, his knuckles turning white around the steering wheel again.

"You say you're sorry for acting like an idiot, and then in the very next moment, you ask me about some other girl."

He glanced at you again, his eyes narrowing slightly.

"Or do you not think I can see straight through you?"

The silence in the car went on for a few seconds, the air thick with tension. You could've heard a damn pin drop.

Heeseung's irritation lingered, his jaw clenching as he gripped the steering wheel like he was fighting the urge to snap at you.

His fingers drummed an irritated rhythm against the wheel, like he was trying to burn off some of the anger with that small motion.

"Say something, goddamnit."

“…I didn’t want to tell the others about us not because I’m embarrassed of you.” You start,

“It’s..just complicated. We’re not dating. It’s casual. So why do we have to tell them? We don’t owe them anything.”

Heeseung's expression hardened at your words, the look in his eyes almost cold now. He didn't look at you as he spoke, his gaze fixed firmly on the road ahead, but his tone was sharp.

"Right. So it's casual." He huffed out a humorless laugh, the sound bitter. "And yet for some goddamn reason, you still get all jealous when I start talking to someone else."

“For the love of God, let me finish!” You huff, and it’s like the normal banter you always have again, except it’s nothing unserious.

Heeseung's grip on the steering wheel tightened, his jaw clenching as he exhaled sharply through his nose.

The car fell into a heavy silence for a second—just the hum of tires against pavement and your own damn heartbeat pounding in your ears.

"Fine." he finally bit out, still not looking at you. "Finish. But don't act surprised when I call bullshit on whatever excuse you're about to pull."

“…It was casual. But is it really? Even when we weren’t in bed, you’d still call me petnames.” You sigh, “Still make me meals, still stay the night, still drive me to and from work. I mean, you’re my best friend. But…I feel..something now.”

Heeseung's shoulders tensed as you spoke, his jaw clenching slightly as you listed off all the…coupley things he did for you.

It was like you were listing off every little thing he did to show you he cared, every way he proved he wasn't just some casual hook-up. And you were right, goddamnit—he did all of that. He always had.

There was a long, heavy silence, and then he forced out a quiet, "What do you feel?"

You look at you trembling hands, “Love.”

His breath stuttered for a split second, his fingers tightening on the steering wheel even more. The word hit him like a damn ton of bricks.

He'd been expecting some excuse, some stupid justification—some reason for why you felt something now.

But love? He almost couldn't believe his own goddamn ears.

He shot you a sharp, disbelieving look, like he was trying to see if you meant it. Like he was trying to see if this was just some cruel joke.

You take another deep breath, “Well-that's what I felt. At least,” looking outside the window.

“But I'm scared. Because we did everything out of order, and I'm not sure if we'll be okay. If-If we stopped, I'm not only gonna lose my boyfriend, but my best friend." You continue, voice slightly trembling now.

Heeseung went quiet, his expression softening slightly as he realized you were serious-as he saw the tremble in your voice, the fear on your face.

He wanted to tell you it would be okay. He wanted to pull you into his arms, to wrap you up in his embrace and soothe away the damn anxiety he heard in your words.

But he didn't. He took a deep breath, his shoulders tensing again as he gripped the steering wheel like a lifeline.

"..ls that the only reason you're telling me this now? Because you're scared of losing a friend?"

“You’re not just a friend, Hee. You’re basically my other half.” You confess,

A low, heavy sigh left Heeseung's lips at those words, and this time, his shoulders slumped slightly.

It was like all the frustrated tension finally left his body, leaving just the tired, worn-out weight of those words.

Hearing you say that...it did something to him. It made his heart clench, made his breathing get a little uneven.

He looked over at you then, the look on his face almost vulnerable. "...Your other half, huh?"

You nod, not trying to filter anything now.

“You’re my other half, someone who knows me the most— I don’t— I don’t think I can live normally again if we ever stopped being together, friends and all.”

His breath caught in his throat at that statement, his chest tightening painfully.

You were saying the words so damn casually, like you didn't realize the weight they carried for him. He had to force himself to breathe, to speak past the sudden emotional lump in his throat.

His voice was a little hoarse when he finally managed to grit out a question. "And you're just telling me this now? After a whole goddamn week of avoiding each other? After years of dragging it as some hookup?”

You keep quiet, silenced.

“That’s a question, Y/N.” He bite out.

“I’m sorry.”

Your apologies are like a broken record by now, as he let out a bitter laugh.

“You’ve said that.”

“But it’s the truth! I’m sorry I hurt you because I know I did, and I wasn’t acting my feelings for years straight.”

He let out a sharp exhaled at your words, his jaw clenching as he tried to swallow back the mix of irritation and...hope that flared in him at your confession.

The mix of emotions was getting to be too damn much. He was tired, he was frustrated, and he was tired of the games.

He glanced over at you-and dammit if you didn't look like you meant it.

And Heeseung, damn his bleeding heart, couldn't deny that look in your eyes. He let out a low, exasperated sigh.

"You goddamn idiot." He said, his voice gruff.

"Do you have any idea how pissed I was? How goddamn frustrated l've been all week? I didn't know if you just regretted it, if you thought I was some stupid mistake, if...if I meant anything to you."

The words left his lips before he could stop them, a hint of vulnerability in the tone.

He was being damn honest for once, letting some of the emotional mess swirling around in his head spill out in front of you like that.

And you didn’t even realize you’ve arrived to your complex. But he didn’t ask you to leave yet, he just parked his car and switched off the engine, the sudden silence in the car suddenly deafening.

For a moment, both of you just sat there, the tension in the air almost stifling.

Then, he looks over to you. His expressions are unreadable.

“We’re here.” he said simply, like it was some kind of warning.

A warning that this conversation was about to continue, and there was no avoiding it.

“You were never, ever a mistake to me.” You look into his eyes.

Heeseung's breath hitched at your words, the honest admission sending a pang through his heart.

He'd been going back and forth between annoyance and irritation all goddamn week-trying to convince himself you just regretted the hookup, trying to ignore the fact that he still wanted you.

Hearing you say that, hearing that quiet honesty in your voice—it made it hard to hold onto the irritation.

It made him feel guilty for doubting you in the first place but damn it, he was still angry.

He stared at you for a long moment—your expression, the way your hands were fidgeting in your lap.

The vulnerability in it all made his chest ache. He exhaled sharply through his nose, running a hand over his face like he was trying to physically push back the damn emotions clogging up his throat.

"I know that now," he finally muttered, "But it took you avoiding me and acting like I didn't exist for a week to say that shit."

A pause as he turn fully towards you now.

“You don’t get to keep pushing me away and then act like that when I go looking elsewhere.”

“I’m not going to push you away anymore.”

His breath caught in his chest at your quiet admission, the raw sincerity of it making something inside him ache.

He was still pissed—still frustrated beyond belief but the confession did soften the edges.

“Good,” He says gruffly. “Because you’re not going to dismiss my feelings, not again.”

That made you look at him, “What do you feel?”

He froze at your sudden question, his heart leaping in his chest. The look in your eyes was damn intent, leaving no room for bullshit.

You were asking him what he felt-for real this time, not some half-ass excuse or half-true response.

He clenched his jaw, conflicted. He wanted to be honest. He wanted to tell you exactly how he felt.

But part of him was still pissed, still frustrated by that week of avoiding each other, and he wanted to make you hurt just a little bit, too.

Gosh he’s so petty.

“What do I feel? I’m pissed. Hella freaking pissed,” he bit out at first—zero hesitation, "Because you made me think I wasn't shit to you. That all of this"—a sharp gesture between the two of you—"was just some goddamn mistake."

A pause as he swallowed hard, his voice dropping lower.

"But I also feel like a damn idiot for caring this much when we never even called it what it was."

The sight of you wincing at his bitter confession made something in Heeseung ache, but he didn't let that stop him from speaking.

He'd been keeping this all bottled up for a week, and damn it, it was time for you to hear what that felt like.

He continued, the words falling out like a damn train wreck.

"You have any idea how much of an idiot I've been this past week? | thought you were ashamed of me. Like I was some kind of regret."

There was a note of anger in his voice still, the frustration and hurt of the past week coming out in sharp breaths as he continued.

"I was trying to keep my distance, trying to forget you. But you have no goddamn idea how that felt when I was lying in my bed every damn night, and all I could think of was you."

He took a sharp inhale, his throat tight with emotion. "I'm tired of being the one who cares, damn it."

You retort immediately, “I care too!”

"Then damn it, why didn't you act like it?" He huffed out bitterly, his irritation and frustration getting the best of him. He was angry, so goddamn angry, but the hurt in his voice was undeniable.

"All you did was push me away. You acted cold, you avoided me, you never gave me a straight answer about us! You made me doubt everything we had! So excuse me if I thought you were ashamed!"

“It’s because I’m fucking scared, Hee!”

His shoulders tensed at that sudden outburst,

the raw emotion in your voice finally getting through his walls of anger-piercing through to the vulnerable thing beneath.

He felt that confession down to the very bone-and it only made His own guilt claw at his conscience.

But he was still angry, still hurt, and he needed you to understand why. "Scared of what?" he snapped, voice slowly rising.

"That maybe I'm ruining things with someone who probably know me the best out of everyone!” You snap, “that I'm ruining my friendship with someone I always wanted to be with!"

He felt those words like a punch to the gut. It was like you were saying everything that'd crossed his mind in the past week, and damn if it didn't hurt like hell.

A part of him, the soft part that loved you with all the damn intensity of the sun, wanted to pull you into his arms and soothe your fears.

But the part of him that was still hurt and angry kept him holding back.

"If you were so scared, then why did you let it get this far?!” He yell.

“Stop yelling!”

"I'll stop yelling when you start making some goddamn sense!" He fired back, his voice rising again as he struggled to rein in his emotions.

Goddamn it, he knew he was being unreasonably loud, but he couldn't help it.

He was struggling to hold back the mix of anger, hurt, and goddamn affection swirling through him at the sight of you, vulnerable and so damn familiar.

"You can't just avoid me for a week, act distant and cold, and expect me not to be pissed!"

You never heard him scream at you like this, at it scared you.

Your best friend, who’s smug and stupid at time— but always so soft-spoken. That’s one of a million things you loved about him.

The way he speaks— like he’s scared if he’s too loud or too harsh you’ll fade away.

But right now? All of that is out of the window.

Rightfully so, he’s hurt. You hurt him.

And nothing scares you more that hurting the one person you cared the most.

“Please,” you tear up.

Holy fuck, are you crying?

You wanted to slap the shit out of yourself.

“Please don’t yell when I’m so fucking scared right now.”

Heeseung froze the moment he saw your tears, his entire body going rigid.

The anger drained from him in an instant-replaced by something far more visceral, something that made his chest tighten painfully.

His hands dropped to his sides as he exhaled sharply through clenched teeth, like the fight was being punched out of him at once.

He looked…guilty now.

"Shit." he muttered under his breath before running a hand over his face, "I'm not yelling anymore."

He stayed quiet for a long moment, his jaw working as he fought to keep his own damn emotions in check.

The silence between you was thick with everything unspoken-anger, hurt, fear. But the way your voice had cracked on that last word made something in him cave.

Slowly, deliberately—he reached over and took one of your hands from where it was clenched into fists on your lap. His grip was firm but not tight, grounding.

“I’m not going to yell, I’m sorry.” he says softly, “I’m not going anywhere.”

He exhaled sharply through his nose, the frustration and anger still simmering in his chest-but your quiet plea made him pause.

He wanted to yell, damn it. He needed you to understand how much he'd been hurting too.

"I'm not yelling," he muttered again gruffly-though the way he bit out each word was soft. "But I'm not just gonna sit here and pretend like this didn't fucking destroy me."

A pause as he swallowed hard, forcing himself to lower his voice further when he added, "You don't get to be scared of losing me when you're the one who pushed first."

You look at your hands together, “I don’t know how to do this, Hee.” You confess, “I’m going to mess up again, I’ve messed up, so I don’t…know how to do it,” you bite out, “But I know I want to be with you.”

His grip on the steering wheel loosened slightly as he stared at you—really looked at you—for the first time since this whole damn mess started.

"You don't get to say that," he muttered, but there was no real bite left in his words now. Just exhaustion.

A pause as he exhaled sharply, "But...if you really want this? Then we figure it out. Together."

“You mean everything to me,” you say. The tears never stopped.

At that quiet declaration, He felt his heart twist and some of the anger left draining from him ever further.

But he wanted you to be sure. He wasn’t going to accept this all sincerely and then watch you push him away again once your friends are in the room.

“Like hell I mean everything to you, after the shit—” He starts but you cut him off before he could even continue.

“I know I acted like shit recently, heck, maybe even months now. But before that?” You look into his eyes, “All the years before? When we were kids and the grandmas in the neighborhood always predicted we’d get married? Isn’t that obvious, you jerk?” If you weren’t then, now you are full on sobbing.

Heeseung felt something in his chest ache at those memories. Those years you spent growing up together. The elderly neighbors who'd always tease about how cute you were together, how sure they were that you'd end up getting married down the line.

Those damn memories were playing on repeat in his mind, and it only made him feel all more frustrated.

He bit back a scoff, shaking his head slightly as the words left him in a low mutter. "You still pushed me away for months, idiot."

“Well I’m a little stupid, sorry!”

He couldn't help but huff out a dry, humorless laugh.

Your blunt confession, just blurting out that you were sorry and stupid... it was so damn typical of you that he couldn't stay angry for much longer.

He pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration, shaking his head as he muttered, "You're more than a little stupid, you know that?" He smiles, and you sob harder.

He finally reaches out, taking both of your hands together now.

“Stop crying, you’re not a kid anymore.” He kisses your hands.

“I’m trying. But it kept pouring out.” You whine softly.

He felt his lips twitch at that whiny tone—so typical of you. Even in moments like this, you still manage to make him feel giddy.

He squeezed your hands tightly, “No more crying, baby.”

That was the last thing he says before guiding you to sit on his lap in the driver’s seat, pulling you against his chest.

You break again, like the comfort finally reaches you from the anxiety of this whole talk.

Heeseung let out a slow, tired breath as you practically collapsed into him-your sobs muffled against his chest.

The weight of your body against his, the way you clung to him like he was some damn lifeline...it made something in his heart twist painfully.

“You’re okay,” He kisses your temple. “I’m here, I got you.”

One of his hands tangles in your hair, playing with the strands as he feels you calm down.

He could feel a lot of things at once. The rise and fall of your chest against his, the press of your legs against his, the way you gripped his shirt tighter in your fists...it was maddening.

“I love you.” You mutter, lips pressing against his chest as you feel his beating heart.

He smiles, hearing you say that felt so good—especially after years doubting everything between you two.

He took a shaky breath, his arms tightening around you even as he muttered,

"I love you too, idiot."

“That’s not what you call me.”

He let out a low, amused huff at that— your sniffly protest was so adorable it made his chest ache. He pulled away slightly to cup your face in his hands, wiping away the lingering tears with rough thumbs.

“I love you, baby.” He smiles.

When he sees you cry again, he laughs and tuck your face into the crook of his neck-letting you soak his shirt with those damn tears.

“What am I going to do with you?” He chuckles in your hair.

Heeseung let you cry against him for God knows how long, just running his fingers through your hair and holding you close.

He'd always been a quiet and relatively patient person, but damn it if it didn't take everything in him to keep from falling to pieces at the feeling of you crying in his arms.

Eventually, though, he knew this needed to stop. He'd been putting off the hard conversation for far too long. So he pulled your face out of his neck, forcing you to look up at him with a gruff "Hey, look at me.”

Staring down at you for a long moment, he takes in your beautiful face despite the tears.

Your eyes were red and puffy, your cheeks flushed and wet. You looked so damn vulnerable, and it made his chest ache in a way that was almost too much to handle.

But he had to be the one to push through it this time. He knew you needed him to be the stronger one right now.

“I need you to listen and answer okay? Truthfully.”

Heeseung let go of your face, his hands dropping to your hips now, holding you tightly in place on his lap.

He didn't want you to look away-didn't want to lose your focus for even a second. He kept his gaze locked with yours, his expression unwaveringly serious.

The way you were looking back at him? So damn vulnerable and open, make his heart hurt like hell.

“Why’d you push me away, baby?” He asks, this time he wants a clear answer from you.

No more It’s because I’m stupid bullshit.

“Because…” You look at him, “It’s too much.” You pat your heart, “Right here. And I have this nagging voice that if I am beside you any more without letting it out, the wrong words are gonna come out." You wince.

"And then, I saw you kissing that girl."

"It was my fault of course, but...still hurt." You chuckle.

Heeseung listened in silence as the words spilled out of you. He still had you sitting in his lap, still holding onto you with a tight, almost possessive grip.

The sound of your voice was shaky, the confession making the ache in his chest intensify even more.

And then you had to go and bring up that innocent girl he used to numb whatever you two had going on?

He swallowed hard, clenching his jaw for a moment before replying, "That was nothing. You know that."

“Still, Hee.”

Heeseung exhaled sharply through his nose, "It was nothing," he repeated firmly, gripping your hips tighter as he stared at you with a hard expression.

“I kissed her because I was pissed off, I was confused as hell after the way we left things. I didn’t know where we stand, even if I was confident I loved you, It was still confusing.”

“You were hurt.”

He shakes his head. “I was, but I still acted like an asshole about it. I want you. Only you, but I still kissed her.”

A pause as he looked away briefly, clearly struggling with himself for a second before turning back to you with sharp eyes.

"But I don't want us to keep doing this shit—avoiding each other and pushing one another away just because we're scared of what might happen if things go wrong."

He brings his hand to cup your cheek as you lean in.

“We’re better than this, baby. We’re adults. We need to communicate, or none of this is ever going to work. You hear me?”

You give him soft nod. He searched for any hint of hesitation, and when he sees one? He let out a deep sigh.

“Good girl.” He smiles, “We’re going to tell each other everything from now on. No more pushing, no more running.”

“I want to be exclusive.” You say, out of nowhere. Thinking it was the best time to clarify.

He raised his eyebrows at that, “Yeah? Want me to be your boyfriend, princess? Say it again.”

You felt your cheeks heat up. “You heard me, I’m gonna take it back—”

“Nope. You’re so not.” He laughs. "Not when I've been waiting to hear those damn words from you since we were goddamn ten years old, baby."

Huh?

Those words made you snap. You grab his face, and crush your lips together.

There was only a second of hesitation from him before he was kissing you back, his hand on your hip pulling you even closer as his lips crashed against yours.

There was something almost desperate to it, the months of hurt and longing and pent up emotions from the past week suddenly catching up to him now.

He kissed you hungrily, almost roughly, until finally pulling back slightly-gasping for air with your foreheads pressed together. His voice came out barely above a whisper:

"You're mine, got it?"

“And you?”

“All yours.” He smile and leaned down to kiss you again, his lips moving roughly against yours. This time a low, possessive sound left his chest-his tongue darting out to push past your lips with an almost feral need. He was claiming your mouth with his own, dominating without question.

When you both finally pull away, his breathing was labored, the hand on your face dropping to your hip once more in a tight grip.

He sees your expression, so honest and exhausted. But full, so full of love. Your eyes a bit hazy and dazed, like he can feel the tiredness all over you.

“Long day, yeah?”

You nod, and he chuckles. “Let’s get you inside.”

Heeseung kept a tight, protective grip on you as you got out of the car, his arm wrapping around your waist to steady you.

He could tell you were barely staying standing, and he was determined to get you inside and taken care of as quickly as possible.

Without another word, he closed the door and started leading you towards your complex, his eyes scanning the surroundings around you for any potential dangers.

Despite his usual nonchalant demeanor, there was a subtle protectiveness in the way he held you close to him—a determined edge to his expression.

The elevator ride up was short-lived, and soon enough they were stepping through the doors into your apartment.

He kept a steadying hand on your waist as you walked inside, guiding you towards your room.

Heeseung led you straight to your bed, carefully helping you sit down on the edge of it. His eyes roamed over you, taking in your exhausted state with a mixture of concern and affection.

The urge to get you comfortable and taken care of was practically overwhelming.

He gently tugged on your arm, his voice soft and gruff. "Lay down."

You obeyed, slowly laying back on the bed.

Something about the way you looked right now was so vulnerable, so damn soft, it was almost making his head spin.

But he pushed past the emotions swirling in his chest, determined to get you cared for first.

He knelt at the edge of the bed, his eyes scanning your face with a mix of concern and tenderness.

"I'll be right back, okay?Just gonna get something."

He gave your hand a gentle squeeze before reluctantly letting go. Getting up, he moved across the room, rummaging through your drawers until he found some comfortable clothes for you.

He quickly grabbed a tank top and hoodie, along with some sweatpants, before making his way back over to the bed.

Kneeling beside the bed again, he looked down at you. "Sit up for a second."

He waited until you pushed yourself up into a sitting position, and then he started helping you out of your clothes.

His touch was gentle as he pulled your top off, his eyes roaming over your skin almost reverently.

He could see the weariness in your movements, and he worked quickly, but his fingers lingered against your skin with a tender touch. Once you were wearing the tank top, he offered you the hoodie next. He helped you into the hoodie, watching as the fabric swallowed you up.

The way you looked now—wearing his hoodie and looking so damn tired—was somehow unbearably endearing and it only made the protectiveness in his chest intensify.

But he kept his focus, helping you slide out of your pants and into the sweatpants next.

Throughout the entire process, his touch was careful and gentle, his eyes lingering on each piece of skin he exposed.

Once you were changed into the comfortable clothes, he helped you lay back down on the bed.

He pulled the covers up over your body, making sure you were properly tucked in and cozy. His eyes scanned your face for a moment, taking in how exhausted you looked once again.

He reached up and gently tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, his voice low and gruff.

"Go to sleep, okay? You're dead on your feet, baby."

You replied with a soft pat on the space beside you on the bed.

Heeseung couldn't help the small smile that pulled at his lips as you patted the space beside you, the wordless request obvious.

He knew you were asking him to stay. And damn it, if that wasn't one of his favorite things in the world.

He didn't hesitate, carefully climbing onto the bed next to you. His arm immediately went around your waist, pulling you closer until you were tucked against him.

He settled behind you, adjusting your bodies until you were cuddled against him, your back pressed against his chest.

He could feel the exhaustion coming off you in waves, and the feeling filled his chest with a mix of affection and concern.

He tightened his arm around your waist, pulling you even closer, almost possessively. He nuzzled his face into your hair, inhaling the familiar scent.

His voice was quiet and gruff as he spoke, almost a whisper next to your ear. "Sleep, baby. I'll stay with you."

He continued to hold you close, his body molded against yours. He could feel the way your tired body relaxed into his embrace, the way you automatically shifted closer against him.

His hand on your waist began tracing slow, idle circles against your side, hoping the gentle touch would soothe you even more.

“I love you,” was the last thing you hear before drifting off to sleep.

Morning settles softly over the room, pale light slipping through the curtains and stretching across the bed where Heeseung wakes first, eyes blinking open slowly as the quiet replaces last night’s noise.

For a moment, he doesn’t move—just lies there, one arm still draped loosely around you, your head tucked against his shoulder, hair slightly undone from sleep.

There’s a faint crease on your cheek from the pillow, your breathing even, steady, like none of the tension from before followed you into the morning.

He shifts just enough to look at you properly, gaze lingering in a way he’d never admit out loud, thumb brushing absentmindedly against your arm before he exhales softly, like he’s trying not to disturb something fragile.

He feels you stir awake slowly, and register the warmth between the both of you.

Your lashes flutter open, adjusting to the soft morning light spilling through the curtains, and for a second you don’t move, still caught somewhere between sleep and awareness.

Then you realize where you are—how close you are—and your fingers instinctively curl slightly against his shirt.

“Hi,” he mutters, his smile soft and still heavy with sleep.

Up close, it’s different—quieter than anything he ever gives you when he’s fully awake. His eyes are half-lidded, hair slightly tousled, and there’s something unguarded in the way he looks at you, like he hasn’t had the chance to put his walls back up yet.

His thumb brushes faintly against your arm again, slow, absent, like he’s still halfway dreaming.

“You’re up early,” you murmur, voice still rough as you shift slightly against him, but not enough to pull away.

Heeseung lets out a quiet hum, the corner of his lips lifting just a little more.

“Could say the same about you.”

Neither of you moves after that.

The morning stretches between you, calm and fragile, like if either of you says the wrong thing, it’ll snap back into what you usually are.

“You should sleep more, you were so tired last night,” he suggests, his hand moves to your hip for a grounding grip.

His hand slides from your arm to your hip, settling there like it belongs, fingers pressing lightly—just enough to keep you from drifting too far away.

The touch is grounding.

Steady.

You let out a small breath, barely noticeable, your body sinking a little more into the mattress despite yourself.

“I’m okay,” you mumble, though your voice betrays how heavy sleep still feels in your limbs.

Lee Heeseung huffs quietly, almost amused, his thumb brushing once against your side.

“Doesn’t sound like it.”

You shift slightly, your hand coming up to rest against his chest, feeling the slow, even rhythm beneath your palm.

For a second, neither of you says anything, the silence filled only by quiet breathing and the soft rustle of sheets.

Suddenly, he shifts closer, his head dipping into the crook of your neck, breath warm against your skin. His lips follow a moment later—slow, lingering, open-mouthed presses that make you inhale sharply, your fingers tightening slightly against his shirt.

It’s unhurried.

Sleepy, almost.

Like he’s not fully thinking—just acting on instinct, on familiarity.

His hand at your hip steadies you when you shift, thumb pressing lightly as he continues, each kiss softer than the last but no less intentional.

The quiet of the morning wraps around you both, broken only by the faint rustle of sheets and your uneven breathing.

You tilt your head just a little, giving him space without realizing it, and he exhales softly against your skin, like he notices.

You hum, while he continues mouthing at your collarbone.

“Hee, it’s—” you glance at the clock on the nightstand, squinting slightly, “9 in the morning,” you sigh.

He doesn’t pull away.

If anything, Heeseung just exhales softly against your neck, lips still brushing your skin in slow, unhurried presses, like the time doesn’t matter.

“Mm,” he hums, voice muffled.

His hand on your hip tightens just slightly when you shift, keeping you right where you are.

“I missed you, baby.” He nuzzle his nose against your jaw, trying to coax you into giving in.

Sly fox.

“I’m right here.” You smile.

“But I want to kiss you all over, make you feel good.” He murmur again, voice turning slightly whiny.

You let out a small laugh, which died as soon as he moves his hand to cup your clothed core.

“You’ll let me, right? You’ll let me love this sweet body of yours?”

He looks into your eyes, asking for permission.

“But breakfast…”

“It’s Saturday, baby. We can have breakfast at 2PM.” He whines.

You grin, before nodding.

Heeseung wasted no time in claiming the skin of your neck, his mouth and tongue working at your pulse point, leaving a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses down the column of your throat once again.

The entire time, his hands roamed your body, pushing up the bottom of your hoodie and tanktop and slipping underneath to touch your overheated skin.

He practically groaned at the feeling of you, hot and pliant underneath him—he's been dying to touch you like this for days now.

His hands were rough as they groped your breasts, his fingers pinching and rolling the hardened peaks between them. His mouth left wet trails along your collarbone before latching onto one nipple—sucking hard through the fabric of your top.

"Fuck," he groaned against you, his hips grinding down instinctively, "You always taste so damn good."

A sharp nip to punctuate it—because he knew you liked that little sting.

You help him take off your clothes, hands trembling slightly.

Heeseung lifted his head at the sudden motion, staring at you hungrily as he watched you lift your shirt up.

"Good girl."he said, his eyes dark with intensity as he watched your movements."That's it. Show me."

His breath hitched as he took in the sight of you—bare, flushed, and already so damn needy for him. His gaze raked over your exposed skin like a starving man at a feast.

“Beautiful, my woman.”

Without another second of hesitation, his mouth descended on one nipple—sucking hard while his fingers pinched the other between rough fingertips.

Heeseung's tongue flicked against the hardened peak as he sucked and swirled it around in his mouth. It wasn't enough, though. He nipped and lapped at your skin—his hand moving from your chest to your inner thigh.”

It was almost as if he was intent on memorizing every inch of your body with his touch, leaving no area unmarked by his lips and teeth.

“Mm, I could stay like this forever," he murmured, his words partially muffled against your skin.

His hand skimmed up your thigh, pushing up the hem of your pants. He pushed them down just far enough to bare your legs to his sight, and his mouth left your breast to press kisses along the soft skin.

"Lift your hips."

The order was said in a rough, lust-filled tone, and he didn't give you even a second to hesitate before hooking a finger into the waistband of your panties, pulling them down your legs.

His eyes darkened as he took in the sight of you, now fully exposed.

Heeseung practically growled as he took in the sight of you—bare, exposed, and so damn perfect.

His fingers dug into your hips for a second before sliding lower to grip the backs of your thighs, yanking you closer to him.

"You're already wet for me? I'm not holding back, baby.”

His hands were everywhere, touching you with a mixture of impatience and desperation. His mouth latched onto the soft skin of your neck, sucking and biting down on your pulse until he left a blossoming mark behind.

He wanted you, and he wanted you now.

"Can't wait to be inside of you," Heeseung hissed against your skin. “Can’t wait to love you until I’m milked dry.”

“Watch me touch myself first.”

Heeseung had to hold back a groan at your suggestion.

While his main goal right now was to be inside of you, the thought of watching you touch yourself right in front of him sounded almost sinful.

During your hookups, Heeseung was the one that take the lead but once in a while, you would give suggestions like these.

To try and experiment with each other, of course.

"Yeah? You wanna put on a show?" he teased, an eyebrow raised as he pulled away slightly to look at you. He already sounded breathless just from the thought of it—he was practically salivating for the sight.

Heeseung's expression darkened as he watched you, his eyes glued to the sight of your hands slowly moving over yourself.

Your smaller fingers rubbing your bundle of nerves, still sensitive after waking up.

He couldn't tear his gaze away for a second, as if he was a starving man staring at his prey. His own hands flexed against your thighs, pressing more firmly into the soft skin as he fought the urge to take over and touch you himself.

This was your show right now—not his. He had to be patient.

"So pretty," he murmured hoarsely, "All for me to watch." His eyes darkened even further. That tone of your voice, the way you looked right now... God, if you weren't careful, he was going to lose all self-control and take over again.

“Hee…Touch yourself too..”

He swallowed thickly, the sound almost audible to your ears. His breathing was already shaky, his voice strained as he replied.

"Yeah? You want me to touch myself for you, baby?” Heeseung's breath hitched as he watched you nod, his hands immediately moving to the waistband of his jeans.

His fingers fumbled slightly in his haste—he wasn't used to being this desperate for something so simple.

"You're lucky I'm weak for you."

With one rough yank, he pulled down just enough fabric to free himself—already hard and aching from watching you. His grip tightened around the base as a groan escaped him at the first touch.

He was going to die just watching you.

His chest was rising and falling heavily, and he could feel his self-control hanging on by a mere thread at this point.

He wanted to touch you, to be the one to touch you—but the sight of you touching yourself like this just for him was almost torturous.

"Mmm, look at me, baby." he commanded hoarsely."Want you to keep your eyes open while you do that for me."

Heeseung's grip on himself tightened painfully as he watched you slip your fingers inside, his breath hitching in response to the wet sound.

His eyes were practically glued to where you touched yourself—his entire body tensed with need.

"Fuck, that's it," he gritted out between clenched teeth, "Keep going just like that."

A rough thrust of his own hand matched yours instinctively—mimicking the rhythm you set for him.

You whine with need when you feel your own fingers aren’t enough to reach the places that can make you see stars.

Heeseung's hips jerked forward involuntarily, a strangled groan tearing from his throat as he watched you.

His knuckles whitened where they gripped himself-too close to the edge already just from watching you.

"Y/N," he warned lowly, "You keep making those sounds and I'm not gonna last." A bead of sweat rolled down his temple as he fought for control-his entire body coiled tight with desperation.

His head was swimming; the air felt like it was crackling with electricity. Every nerve was on fire, desperate for release.

He needed you, but there was something about watching you like this—so open, so vulnerable, so perfect—that he couldn't stop himself from prolonging his suffering.

"Sweetheart, I need to touch you..." he gasped out, a strangled plea on his lips. "Please..."

The moment you removed your fingers, giving him permission, he moved forward with an almost feral speed to grab you by the hips and pull you closer-settling himself right between your spread legs.

"You have no idea how much I ache for you," he muttered hoarsely, his voice rough with need. "I need you so much."

Heeseung's mouth crashed against yours before you could respond, his lips moving hungrily over yours.

There was no tenderness, only a raw, desperate need as he claimed your mouth completely. His hands were everywhere, touching you with a rough familiarity that spoke of his desperate need to feel every part of you all at once.

His breath came out in a sharp, ragged exhale as he pressed the thick head of his cock against your entrance—teasing, torturing both of you with the slow drag.

His entire body was trembling from how hard it was for him to not just shove inside right then and there.

“Ready, baby?”

And when you finally nod, he slides in with zero resistance, given how soaked you are.

A guttural groan tearing from his throat as he buried himself to the hilt, both of you immediately losing your sleepy haze.

"Fuck-" he choked out, forehead dropping to yours, "You feel so damn good."

A ragged breath before he started moving—deep, punishing rolls of his hips that left no room for gentleness.

“Ngh, fuck—Hee!”

Heeseung's entire body locked up at the sound of your voice, his hips stuttering to a halt for a second. The way you clenched around him-tight, wet, perfect-had his vision whiting out for half a second.

"Fucking hell," he rasped against your neck, "You're trying to kill me."

A rough grind of his pelvis pressed even deeper as he fought not to lose it right then and there.

He needed you so badly right now. More than he'd ever needed anyone—and he never thought he could possibly be this addicted to someone, but here he was.

Addicted to you, his love.

Completely and utterly addicted to the feel of your skin against his, the sounds you made as he moved inside you, the way you looked at him like he was the center of your entire world.

“All this, mine, right?” He murmurs in between moans. “No one else to touch, to love, to have.”

He stops for a second, pulling back making you whine due to the sudden absence.

“Shh, baby, I know—I know.” He cooed, grabbing a pillow to move it under you, and then entering you again.

The angle change made the both of you breathless. He felt even deeper than what you thought was possible.

“So good—you’re so good for me.”

You felt the tight knot forming, and started clenching harder around him—making him jolt forward.

“Shit—baby, I know, I’ll get you there, yeah?” He kisses your temple.

He speeds up his thrusts, his tip hitting hard against your cervix.

He pulled you closer, his lips trailing up your neck to your ear, his breathing ragged against your skin.

“Come with me, baby.” He murmur, “That’s my girl.” He smiles when he feels you arch and tremble as your climax ran through you.

A ragged, guttural groan tore from his throat as he buried himself impossibly deeper—his entire body shuddering with release. His grip on you was ironclad, like he was afraid you'd vanish the second he let go.

"Fuck—yes," he panted against your sweat-slicked skin, "Mine. Only mine."

A few more rough thrusts before his hips stilled completely—spent and wrecked in the best way possible.

He dropped on top of you, making sure not to crush you with his weight as the both of you catch your breaths.

He got up, looking at you disheveled state. His hand ran through the sweaty hair sticking to your face, taking a good look at his girlfriend.

“How can it feel even better when we’re finally together now?”

taglist ! [@only4mylove @xionvlog @heymaaaartin @in-somnias-world @freshtaledonut @nobodyaskedeu @coconutx-o @kristynaaah @skzenhalove @fataltrebles @lvlyhiraii @kjunebuggie]

“having issues?” heeseung asks, watching you aggressively type on your cell phone. 

“shit, you scared me.” you jump back. “yeah, my AC and shower stopped working. i have no where to cool off.” 

heeseung laughs. “so you chose to hug the soda machine?” a brief pause before continuing. “why didn’t you just come knock on my door, i would’ve let you in.” 

“well.. is that offer still on the table?” you question, wondering if it was a lie or not. 

“of course the offer is still there. come on in.” heeseung leads you into his unit. 

heeseung’s apartment unit was cool, the AC at full blast—it was in way better than the condition of your apartment.  you sat on his couch, making yourself comfortable as heeseung gave you a glass of cold water. 

“you mentioned your shower was broken, why don’t you use mine.” heeseung sits down, his body twists—pointing to the bathroom. 

you remove your lips from the glass, lipstick staining its rim. “oh no it’s okay, i’ll wait for maintenance to come fix it.” you set the glass onto the table. “plus i didn’t bring any clothes with me.” 

“that’s okay, you can just wear mine.” 

the couch dips as heeseung gets back up, jogging into his bedroom to retrieve a pair of shorts and a t-shirt he doesn’t wear anymore. “let me know if you need anything.” 

you thank him before standing up, and walking over to the bathroom. you leave the door open ajar, pealing off your sweat soaked clothes—and stepping into the cool water flowing out from the shower head. 

the heat does start getting to you, a feeling of overheating hitting your system. you hold onto the shower walls, hoping in some way, this feeling will go away. 

but it doesn’t, in fact, it only gets worse. 

“heeseung.” you call out. “can you come in here?”

you hear the door handle being fumbled, signaling his presence. “everything okay?” 

you lie. “yeah.. i just needed some company.” 

“company? why didn’t you say so?” heeseung sits on the covered toilet seat. “so tell me about your day.” 

you talk to him about the events of your day, attempting to recall as much as you could. your words became to slow down, becoming more and more incoherent. heeseung picks up on it, but he’s afraid to step in and ask. 

“i lied. can you come in here with me. i don’t feel well.” you grip onto the shower wall tighter. 

heeseung hesitates at first, but worries wash over him quickly as he heard less and less from you. he takes a deep breath, before pulling back the shower curtain slowly. 

heeseung finds you in the corner of the shower, hands pressed onto the shower wall. once he enters, you grab his forearm, you also grab his now soaked shirt.

heeseung grabs your hips, holding you under the cold water. your vision blurs, barely making out his figure. heeseung uses his free hand to splash your face with the cool liquid. 

after continuously splashing water against you, your vision becomes clear, you’re finally able to process what happened. 

“oh god..” you look at him terrified. “that was awful.”

“scared me for a sec.” heeseung tries to catch his breath. 

his arm reach out of the shower, grabbing the closest towel and wrapping it around your body. heeseung wasted no time carrying you to his bedroom, allowing you to sit. he grabs the glass of water resting on his bedside table, putting it to your lips. 

“drink.” he quietly demands, not taking no for an answer. 

you open your mouth and take a couple sips. heeseung sits beside you, still a bit shaken up from the previous event. 

“i can give you some space.. if you want.” he gently brushes your damp hair out of your face. 

“no. stay.”  you grab onto his forearm, again.

heeseung’s mind is everywhere, quite frankly in the gutters. he has his hot neighbor sitting on his bed, only a towel around her body. she was holding onto him with everything she’s got. 

you’re not doing any good either, half naked on your neighbors bed, a bit lightheaded from the heat—but wet from the thick tension between the two of you.

“okay, i’ll stay.” heeseung moves closer, his thigh now touching yours. 

he doesn’t care that his comforter is now wet. all heeseung cared about is making sure you’re okay, and maybe getting that towel off of you. 

“thank you for helping me in the shower.” you break the silence. “i probably would’ve fallen, or worse.”

“it’s no problem, i’m just glad i was there to help you.” 

heeseung didn’t move, neither did you. in fact, all you wanted to do was pull him closer, and thank him for being there during a vulnerable moment. 

you both looked at each other, hunger in both your eyes—in the way you both gripped onto each other. your hand was still on his forearm, this time only tighter. heeseung’s arm wrapped around your waist, holding you steady. 

you lean in close, placing a small kiss on heeseung’s closed lips. your lips don’t part, in fact you’re only testing the waters, making sure you both want this. 

that small kiss only made heeseung pull you closer. both his hands rest on your hips, pulling you into his lap. he kisses you, more passion, his hands roaming above the damp towel. 

you kiss him like you’re hungry, tongue swirling with his, memorizing every muscle, all the movements you can. your hands wrap around his neck loosely, molding yourself onto his body. 

heeseung’s frustration grows louder, tugging the towel off your body — tossing it onto the floor ever so carelessly. he doesn’t care where it lands, his skin just needs to touch yours. 

his lips trail from yours, along your jaw, down your neck, down the valley of your tits. heeseung’s fingers toy with your nipples, lightly tugging on the skin, watching your reactions. 

“heeseung..” you moan, breathing heavily. 

“where do you want me, baby?” he asks, hand still cupping your tit.

you reach for his hand, guiding him to where you need him the most—in between your legs. 

“fuck.” heeseung groans, rubbing your clit in circles. “you’re ready for me baby, aren’t you?”

you nod yes, encouraging him to rub you more. your back arches off the bed, hips rolling onto his hand.  your hand reaches for his shorts, tugging at the material. 

heeseung wastes no time, sliding his shorts down to his ankles. he gives himself a few strokes before sliding into you completely. 

“you’re so fucking tight.” heeseung murmurs against your skin, his lips latching onto your neck as he thrusts into your pussy. 

“harder..” you whine, just inches away from your upcoming orgasm. 

the pace picks up, heeseung begins rutting into you.  your back pushed into the mattress with every animalistic thrust, legs shaking as your orgasm washes over you.  

heeseung’s seed pours deep inside you, a string of cum trickling out from your used hole as he pulls out. he plops beside you, panting for air. 

“you know…you’re always welcome in my apartment.” heeseung chuckles, cleaning off your inner thigh. 

“i am?” you lay your head on his chest, looking up at heeseung. 

“most definitely, especially when you need to cool off.” heeseung caresses your back, pulling you close to him as you both sleep into a deep slumber.