Suddenly, something zoomed in behind him and karate chopped him in the head. The figure popped out his head with a grin. “Hi, I’m Hyunjin, your RA. You must be Y/N. I hope this rascal here didn’t do anything to creep you out. He’s our resident flirt.”

“Hey!” protested Jisung. “I don’t flirt around.”

“Are you blushing? That’s a first,” Hyunjin chuckled. He turned to you. “Well, welcome, Y/N. If you need anything, my room’s on your diagonal next to this guy.”

You thanked him with a bow and turned back to your cross-the-hall neighbor.

“He’s just joking,” Jisung insists, now standing up straight. “About me, I mean. You can still ask him for whatever you need. And me. You can ask me too.”

You laughed lightly at his flusteredness which made him wonder if he had ever truly heard laughter before now.

“I believe you,” you assured. “I’m sure people are just misinterpreting the charisma falling from your perfect locks.”

His hands unconsciously flew up to twirl the ends of his bangs as he watched you bow and disappear into your own room.

His hair is brushed to the side tonight, just like it had been that day and just like it has been every day since then.

“Jisung!” you greet, recognizing him. “Ah, wait. It’s President Han now, isn’t it?”

He chuckles. “Do we really need to be formal with each other?”

“I’m just proud of you. I still remember when I found out you were taking over the SK group. The news reached all the way over to England, you know.”

“Still, it’s a little odd hearing it from a friend. What about you? What have you been up to? I thought traveling across Europe was your dream, so what are you doing back here?”

You shrug. “It was, and it truly was amazing, but now that I’m older, I thought I should start settling down, so I came back. I’m mostly doing weddings and yearbooks and other small gigs now,” you tell him, patting your bag of camera equipment. 

Jisung nods, understanding. “You must have been lonely and risky, traveling from place to place. Knowing you’re back makes me feel better too. Call me if you need anything. I have a million phones now, but I’ve still kept my old number for personal use.”

“Thanks, Jisung. You always make me feel safe and at home. Even after all these years.”

He stares mouth open at your statements as you bring your camera up to adjust the lens.

He could hear your whimpers. They weren’t loud, and anyone else would have slept right through them, but Jisung had been tossing and turning all night since he heard about your flu. In fact, he has purposely been straining to hear any sign of distress coming from your room. 

His heart broke at the first groan, and he was on his feet by the second. 

“Y/N?” He knocked softly on your door. He could hear you struggling to sit up and took that as a sign to enter.

He thought your ghost was on your bed when he first entered. Your eyes were sunken and your cheeks hollow. 

“Sorry, did I wake you?” you apologized meekly.

“Goodness, Y/N!” He rushed to your side, helping you sit up fully. Your skin burned against his as he did so. 

“Have you taken medicine?” 

You shook your head, and he cursed softly before pulling out a pill from a pharmacy bag that he couldn’t help but pick up earlier today. 

“Ah,” he said, pressing it against your lips.

You did as told, but shrunk away when he pulled out the next item from the plastic bag: a cooling gel pack.

“Not that,” you whined, drawing your blankets closer to your chin.

“Y/N, you’re burning up,” he tried to reason.

All you did in reply was toss your covers over your head to hide from him. Jisung sighs and sits on your mattress to try to pull down the sheets. 

“I’ll get you juice,” he bargains.

You peek out your eyes, interested, before realizing, “You don’t have juice; you only get Americanos.”

“I bought some today. Come on, it’s orange.”

Hearing your favorite choice of beverage finally made you relent. With your eyes closed, you leaned towards him, bracing for the sharp sting of the cold.

Jisung’s breath hitched when he saw your expression. His eyes couldn’t help but wander a bit lower on your face, and his heart pounded in his ears.

Due to the wait, you opened your eyes. “What’s wrong? Are you regretting sharing your juice? You don’t have to; I know the cold gel is good for me.”

In a panic, he slapped the sheet on your forehead a little harder than he meant to. 

“No, I don’t mind. I bought it for you anyway,” he blurted.

You recoiled a bit and brushed off the apology that followed. “For me?”

“Uhh… yeah. Hyunjin told me you were under the weather. Anyway, I’ll, um, go get it now,” he stammered and rushed out of your room.

A half hour later, juice had been finished and Jisung’s tucked you back in.

“Thank you,” you mumbled, feeling the effects of the medicine.

He adjusts the sheets at your chin. “Of course,” he replied casually.

You shook your head to clarify, “It means a lot to me, really, to have someone here at my weakest moments. Mom always worked and Pa was gone, so we kids always fought each other for what little we had. I had nine siblings. If you ate slowly, even your dinner would be stolen from right under you.”

Jisung sat back down on your desk chair. “Well, you can relax now. Just focus on getting better. You have people who will take care of the rest now.”

You nodded and closed your eyes, waiting for sleep to overtake you. “Could you tell me a story?” you requested.

“A story? What kind?” he chuckled lightly.

“Hmmmm, yours?”

“Mine?”

You looked over at him. “Unless you’re not comfortable—”

He cut you off with a shake of his head. If there were a time he was comfortable, it would be with you.

He swiveled the chair closer and began. “I grew up… with more food that ends up in the dump than in a mouth. There were always more rooms than people and more cars than passengers. However, there was also always more fear than laughter, betrayal than trust, and hate than love.” He had a small smile when he looked over at you. “I’m not supposed to tell people this, but I have siblings too, just none that my father hasn’t paid to keep quiet and away from me. My mother always tells me that if I ever do anything to hurt her or the family’s image, Father will get rid of us and reclaim one of his other sons.”

You bit your lip, fully turned towards him now, and snuck a hand out from under the covers. You took his hand in yours, surprising him.

“I’m okay, really,” he assured.

“I know,” you murmured sleepily. “You’re strong, Jisung.”

“Thank you.” He swallows a nervous lump. “You do too.”

Something clicks as you adjust your equipment. “Can you show me where the birds are?”

“The roasted chicken?”

You roll your eyes with a laugh. “The doves, silly.”

Jisung shrugs innocently. “Who knows, you’re always thinking about food.”

“We’re having steak tonight anyway, not chicken.”

“Aha! So you are thinking about dinner.”

You laugh and swat his arm. He too smiles softly. Your smile was and always will be what he treasures most.

“Say what you want,” you dismiss, “but we’re having beef, and that’s all that matters.”

“Hyunjin. Truth or dare?”

The RA made a dramatic reaction to the question. “Should I choose truth? Or should I go with dare?”

“Just choose one,” the other residents of the hall complained.

Jisung leaned over to his friend. “Choose dare.”

“Okay, okay. I chooooose… truth!”

Jisung rolled his eyes humorously as Hyunjin mocked him.

“Lame, I was going to make you eat eggplants,” the asker tched. “What is the worst part about your job?”

“Having to wake up when some of you forget your keys in the middle of the night,” he answered easily.

People shame the asker for his lame question, but Hyunjin quiets them down.

“Okay, my turn,” he announced. He scanned all his hall residents through slit eyes until he landed on his neighbor. “Jisung…”

“Dare.”

“I didn't even finish asking the question!”

Jisung quickly sticks out his tongue. “Well?”

Just then, someone shouted, “I dare you to kiss the prettiest girl!”

Jisung immediately froze at the prompt. Given his popularity, some of the girls also murmured in excitement and voiced approval for the dare.

Seeing the response of the room, Hyunjin rolled with it. “Well, you heard them.”

Jisung sighed and stood in the middle of the circle. He looked at Dami, and she fluffed her hair and puffed out her chest. She was the heiress of CUBE, one of SK Group’s biggest clients. Beside her, others shuffled around too with vain hope. 

Jisung knew what he should do. He knew what he had to do, but he couldn’t help but steal one glance at you. You smiled encouragingly, and it was all over for his resolve.

Jisung sighed again and stepped forward until he was before you. He apologized with his eyes before taking your hand and planting a kiss on the back of it.

The room fell dead silent immediately after in shock. Jisung dove back to his spot, unable to look at anyone, especially you. After a while, Dami scoffed and turned to walk away with her posse right behind her. Hyunjin awkwardly announced the end of game night, and people quickly scurried away. He gave Jisung a solid pat on the shoulder and too headed for his room.

“Jisung?” 

Your voice lifted his head up. At this point, he realized everyone but you had left.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I probably made Dami hate you now.”

You shook your head. “It’s alright. I’m flattered, actually. So thank you.” You again smiled at him which washed away any of his regrets. “But you should probably make things right with Dami still for your own sake.”

“What if I don’t want to?” 

You raise a brow. “You don’t want beef? What would you like instead?”

Jisung turns a corner and opens a door, presenting to you a pair of white birds. “Fancy chicken?”

You scoff, “No, Jisung, no.”

He smiles as you walk past him to take a few pictures of the doves. Just then, a female voice can be heard from the hall.

“Jisung!”

He looks at you to signal his leave before stepping out. “Yes, Mother?”

“The ceremony is about to begin. You wouldn’t want to keep CUBE’s director waiting for her groom, would you?”

He can see you from the altar. He can still distinctly see you despite the crowd and the spotlight. He can also hear everyone waiting for his answer and feel his hands growing sweatier and sweatier against his bride’s. He sees you raising your camera to your eyes.

“I…”

SNAP!