#chaewon fluff

She drew in a deep breath before turning the doorknob. As the door opened, a warm, inviting scent and the sight of the apartment’s beautiful décor washed over her.

“Wow! This is better than I expected!” She spoke to herself.

She dropped her bag on the couch and looked around. The artwork on the walls stopped her in her tracks—it was incredible. She quickly snapped a photo and sent it to her friends.

“Oh right! Let’s check out the rooms.” As she approaches the corner, she bumps into someone and falls backward, landing on the ground as a couple of paintbrushes belonging to the other person clatter loudly beside her.

She rubs her forehead, dazed from the collision. “W-What the—?” Her eyes widen as she looks up at a tall boy towering above her. “W-Who are you?! And why are you in my apartment?!”

He let out a scoff. “Your apartment? Really? And maybe watch where you’re going next time.” He straightened up after dusting himself off, then crouched to collect his scattered paintbrushes.

He’s really handsome—unfortunately, Chaewon thought. And a total dick on top of that! She got back on her feet, glaring. “I live here! Why the hell are you in my apartment?!”

“Are you stupid?” he said, and Chaewon froze. “You’re the roommate, right? Please tell me you at least read the listing.” He crossed his arms. “It said shared apartment, genius.”

“Shared?!” Chaewon echoed, eyes wide. “Since when?!”

“Since always,” he said flatly, barely looking at her.

She threw her hands up. “Great. Just perfect. A random guy who doesn’t know how to apologize and thinks he owns the place. Fantastic start.”

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” he said with a half-smile. “Sorry to disappoint you, but the only haunting thing here is your lack of reading comprehension.”

“Excuse me?!” she snapped.

“Shared apartment,” he repeated, pointing towards the lease pinned to the fridge. “Welcome home, roommate.”

She rolled her eyes. “How can I be so stupid?!” She whispered under her breath. “I can’t go back now.”

~~~~

Chaewon let out a satisfied sigh. “Finally, all done,” she said, finishing the last of her unpacking. She glanced around the room, taking in her new space before deciding to explore a bit.

There were two extra rooms—one of which, she thought, could be perfect for a small music studio. But before she could take a closer look, the sharp sound of water splashing against the floor made her pause.

“Are you serious? Great—now I need to get more water,” the boy grumbled. Chaewon watched as he stepped out of the room, clearly frustrated.

As soon as he was gone, curiosity tugged at her. Moving quietly, she tiptoed to the doorway and peeked inside, gasping softly as her eyes swept across the room.

Art covered every inch of the room, from the walls to the easel in the corner. It’s beautiful, she thought, eyes wide in awe. “This guy’s actually talented,” she whispered. But before she could take another step…

“Boo!”

He caught her just in time, their faces inches apart. “You really have a thing for falling, don’t you?” he teased.

“S-shut up! You scared me!” she snapped, cheeks red as she stepped back.

After a brief pause, he tilted his head. “So… care to explain why you were snooping around my art room?”

“I—I wasn’t snooping!” she stammered. “I just… heard something and got curious.”

He leaned against the doorway, grinning. “Curious about my art or about me?”

“Neither!” she snapped, her face turning red. “Don’t flatter yourself! I-I was… inspecting.”

“Inspecting now, huh?” he said, laughing softly. “Didn’t realize I was living with a detective.”

“Maybe you are,” she replied, lifting her chin. “And detectives don’t like suspicious behavior.”

“Suspicious? I was painting.”

“Exactly. Suspicious,” she said, refusing to smile even as he laughed.

The tension in the air slowly faded into something lighter. He went back to his easel, brushing a few strokes of blue across the canvas.

Chaewon stood by the doorway, arms still crossed—but her tone softened. “You’re really serious about your art, huh?”

He glanced over his shoulder, surprised by her shift in tone. “Yeah. It’s kind of… my thing,” he said quietly. “Been painting since I was a kid.”

“That’s… actually pretty cool,” she admitted, her earlier defensiveness melting away.

He smiled faintly, the first genuine one she’d seen from him. “Thanks. Didn’t think you’d say that after calling me a jerk.”

She smirked, trying to play it off. “Hey, I can appreciate talent and still think you’re a jerk.”

“Fair enough,” he said, chuckling softly.

For the first time since she moved in, the silence between them wasn’t awkward—it was almost comfortable.

“You can come closer, you know,” he said without looking back. “You’re hovering like I’m gonna bite.”

“I’m not hovering,” she said quickly, taking one cautious step inside.

He glanced at her with a teasing smile. “Sure you’re not.”

She ignored him, pretending to study the paintings instead. “You’re… actually really good,” she admitted, her voice softer this time.

“Thanks,” he said, setting his brush down. “Didn’t expect you to say that. Thought you’d just insult me again.”

“I can multitask,” she replied with a grin.

He laughed—a real laugh this time—and she couldn’t help but smile too. The sound filled the room, easy and warm.

Then, without warning, she stepped back and bumped into a paint can.

They both froze as blue paint started pooling on the floor.

“Oh no…” she whispered.

He looked at the mess, then at her, and sighed. She winced. “I’ll… clean it up?”

He smiled faintly, shaking his head. “Yeah. Together.”

For some reason, that one word—together—made her chest flutter just a little. Chaewon grabbed some tissues from the counter and crouched down, trying to soak up the blue puddle.

“Ugh… this is so bad,” she groaned.

“Relax,” he said, kneeling beside her with a small smile. “It’s just paint. Happens all the time.”

“Yeah, well, not usually because I knock it over,” she muttered, cheeks puffing slightly.

He laughed softly. “You really do have a talent for chaos.”

She shot him a look. “Says the guy who leaves open paint cans lying around.”

“Touché,” he said, smirking.

They cleaned in silence for a moment—until she realized how close they were sitting. She glanced up, and he was already looking at her. For a second, neither of them moved.

“Uh…” she cleared her throat, sitting up straighter. “I don’t think we’ve… properly introduced ourselves.”

He blinked, then smiled faintly. “Right. I’m Lee Y/n.”

“Kim Chaewon,” she said, returning the smile despite herself.

“Well, Chaewon,” Y/n said, standing up and offering her a hand, “welcome to Apartment 54. Try not to flood the place again, yeah?”

She took his hand, rolling her eyes but smiling. “No promises.”

Their fingers brushed just a little longer than either of them expected.

And as they both looked away, pretending not to notice, that strange flutter in her chest returned—stronger this time.

~~~~

Morning sunlight spilled through the blinds, brushing across Chaewon’s face. She groaned softly, burying herself deeper under the blanket before realizing—

Wait… this isn’t my old apartment.

She blinked awake, glancing around the unfamiliar room, boxes still half-open, a faint smell of paint lingering in the air. Right. New place. New start. And… new roommate. Her stomach grumbled. “Ugh, breakfast,” she muttered, dragging herself out of bed.

As soon as she opened the door, the scent of coffee hit her. She peeked into the kitchen—and froze.

Y/n was already there, hair messy, sleeves rolled up, calmly sipping coffee while flipping pancakes like he owned the place. “Morning, roommate,” he said without looking up.

“You cook?” she asked, surprised.

“And you wake up before noon? Miracles do happen,” he replied with a grin.

She narrowed her eyes. “You’re awfully confident for someone who spilled water everywhere yesterday.”

“Correction,” he said, turning to hand her a plate. “You knocked over the paint. I just cleaned it up better.”

She crossed her arms but took the plate anyway. “You’re still a jerk.”

“And you’re still clumsy.”

They stared at each other for a moment—then both cracked up laughing.

For the first time since she’d moved in, it felt… nice. Warm. Like maybe this wasn’t going to be such a disaster after all.

“So,” he said, taking another sip of coffee. “Think you can survive living with me?”

She smiled over her pancake. “Depends. Can you survive living with me?”

He chuckled. “Guess we’ll find out.”

(Later that day)

By afternoon, the apartment had settled into an almost comfortable rhythm—almost.

Chaewon was sitting on the couch with her laptop open, headphones on, quietly humming as she worked on a new melody. For once, everything felt calm. Until the sound of drilling shattered the peace.

“WHAT is that?!” she yelled, pulling off her headphones.

Y/n’s voice echoed from the hallway. “Just hanging up a shelf!”

“A shelf? It sounds like you’re demolishing the wall!” she shouted back.

He appeared a moment later, holding a power drill and covered in dust. “You’re welcome in advance. I’m making space for our stuff.”

“Our stuff?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah. You get the left side for your music junk. I’ll take the right.”

“It’s not junk,” she muttered. “It’s equipment.”

“Right,” he said with a grin. “Equipment that takes up half the living room.”

“You’re one to talk—your art supplies are everywhere!”

“Hey, creativity needs space.”

“So does sanity,” she fired back.

They glared at each other for a beat—then burst into laughter at how ridiculous they sounded.

“Okay,” Y/n said between laughs. “Maybe we’re both disasters.”

“Maybe,” she admitted, still smiling. “But at least it’s not boring.”

He looked at her for a second longer than necessary, that playful glint in his eyes softening just a little.

“Yeah,” he said quietly. “Definitely not boring.”

And just like that, the tension between them shifted—still sharp around the edges, but warmer now. The kind that hinted that maybe, just maybe, something more was beginning to spark.

(Time Skip)

A few days passed, and life in Apartment 54 began to settle into a strange but comfortable routine. Mornings were filled with the smell of coffee and the sound of Lee Y/n’s brushstrokes, while Chaewon’s music drifted softly from her room. They still bickered—constantly—but the edge had faded. Now, their arguments sounded more like inside jokes.

One evening, thunder rolled outside, rattling the windows. The rain poured hard against the glass as Chaewon peeked into the kitchen.

Y/n stood there, hair a little damp, sleeves rolled up, stirring something on the stove.

“You’re cooking again?” she asked, surprised.

“Someone’s gotta keep us alive,” he replied with a smirk. “Unless you plan on living off instant noodles forever.”

“Hey, don’t insult my noodles. They’ve gotten me through hard times,” she said, grinning.

“Then consider this an upgrade,” he said, handing her a spoon. “Taste.”

She hesitated, then took a bite. “Okay… wow. That’s actually really good.”

“You sound shocked,” he said, pretending to be offended.

“Because I am shocked,” she teased. “You look like the type who burns water.”

He laughed, shaking his head. “You’re impossible.”

“And you’re smug,” she said, grabbing a second spoonful anyway.

For a moment, the storm outside faded into background noise. The kitchen felt warm—too warm.

“You know,” he said after a pause, “you’re not as bad as I thought.”

“Wow,” she said, placing a hand over her chest. “The great Y/n just complimented me. Should I write this down?”

He chuckled. “Don’t push it.”

They shared a look—short, quiet, and strangely tender—before Chaewon turned away, pretending to focus on the rain tapping against the window.

What is this feeling? she thought, heart fluttering. He’s still a jerk… but why does he suddenly feel so—

“You’re staring again,” he said without turning around.

“I—What?! No, I wasn’t!” she stammered.

“Sure,” he said, smiling as he plated the food.

“Ugh,” she muttered, but couldn’t stop the small smile that crept onto her lips.

(Later That Night!)

Later that night, the dishes were done, and the rain had quieted to a gentle patter. The two of them sat on the couch, mugs of hot chocolate in hand, a half-finished movie playing quietly in the background.

Chaewon glanced at Y/n from the corner of her eye. He wasn’t teasing her for once—just sitting there, focused on his drink, a small frown tugging at his lips.

“You look serious,” she said softly.

He chuckled, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Just thinking.”

“About what?”

He hesitated before answering. “About how weird life can be. One moment, you’re sure of what you want… and then everything changes.”

She tilted her head. “That sounds deep. You okay?”

“Yeah,” he said with a faint smile. “Just… my last art exhibition didn’t go well. I thought it was going to be my big break, but it tanked. Felt like everything I’d worked for just… slipped away.”

Chaewon looked down at her mug. “I get that,” she said quietly. “I used to perform music before moving here. Small gigs, open mics… but after a while, it stopped being fun. I guess I needed to start over, too.”

He glanced at her, eyes softening. “So that’s why you moved here.”

“Yeah,” she said with a small shrug. “New place, new start. Though I didn’t plan on having a roommate who drives me crazy.”

He smiled. “You love it.”

“I tolerate it,” she corrected, but there was a faint blush on her cheeks.

The movie flickered, light dancing across their faces. For a while, neither of them spoke.

Then Y/n leaned back, his voice quieter. “You know, for what it’s worth… I’m glad you moved in.”

Her heart skipped a beat. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he said simply, eyes meeting hers. “It’s been… less quiet.”

She smiled, warmth spreading through her chest. “Guess that makes two of us.” Outside, the rain slowed to a soft drizzle—but inside, it felt like something had just begun.

(The Next Day!)

The next morning, the apartment felt different—warmer somehow.

Chaewon sat at the kitchen counter with her laptop, hair tied in a messy bun, a mug of coffee beside her. She was humming softly, lost in a melody.

Y/n walked in, half-awake, paint smudges still on his arm. “You’re singing again,” he said, voice low and groggy.

“You’re painting before breakfast again,” she replied without looking up.

He smirked. “Touché.”

There was a quiet ease between them now. She handed him his mug—his favorite, the one with a chipped handle—and he accepted it without a word, like it was already routine.

“So,” he said after a sip, “I was thinking about what you said last night. About music.”

“What about it?”

“You should get back into it. Perform again.”

She looked up, surprised. “You think so?”

“Yeah,” he said simply. “You light up when you talk about it.”

Her chest tightened a little. “That’s… actually really sweet, Y/n.”

“Don’t sound so shocked,” he teased. “I can be nice.”

“Occasionally,” she said with a grin.

He was about to reply when her phone buzzed. She glanced at the screen—and froze.

“Who’s Minho?” he asked casually, sipping his coffee.

“No one,” she said a little too fast.

“Ohhh,” he drawled, a teasing glint in his eye. “No one, huh?”

“Mind your own business,” she said, cheeks pink.

“I’m just saying,” he continued with a grin, “if your ‘no one’ keeps texting, I might have to start charging him rent.”

“You’re impossible,” she muttered, throwing a napkin at him.

He caught it easily, laughing. “But you like living with me.”

“Debatable,” she said—but she couldn’t stop smiling.

And as Y/n turned back to his art, Chaewon tried to focus on her music again… though it was a lot harder when her heart wouldn’t stop racing.

~~~~

A week passed, and the chaos of moving in had finally settled. The apartment felt lived-in now — her music sheets scattered on the table, his paint stains on the floor, the faint scent of coffee and acrylics lingering in the air.

That evening, Chaewon sat by the window, strumming her guitar. The melody she’d been working on floated softly through the room — warm, gentle, unfinished.

Y/n looked up from his easel. “That’s new.”

“Yeah,” she said, not turning around. “Still figuring it out.”

“It’s good,” he said. “Different. Feels… honest.”

She smiled faintly. “Thanks. It’s kind of about… starting over, I guess.”

He nodded, dipping his brush into blue. “I get that.”

A few quiet minutes passed — just the hum of music and the brush gliding across canvas. Then, curiosity got the better of her.

“What are you painting?” she asked.

He hesitated. “You’ll laugh.”

“Try me.”

He sighed, gesturing for her to come closer. “Alright, but no teasing.”

She stood, walking over to his easel — and froze.

On the canvas was her. Sitting by the window, guitar in hand, light pouring over her hair like a soft halo. The strokes were delicate, full of color and warmth.

“That’s… me?” she whispered.

“Yeah,” he said quietly. “You looked… peaceful. I just wanted to capture that.”

Her cheeks flushed. “Y/n, it’s beautiful.”

He looked at her then — really looked — and for the first time, she didn’t see the teasing grin or smug smirk. Just sincerity.

“You’re kind of my muse,” he admitted softly.

Chaewon’s heart skipped. “You can’t just say stuff like that,” she muttered, trying to hide her smile.

“Why not? It’s true,” he said simply, still painting.

She looked at the portrait again, her chest warm and full. For the first time since moving in, she realized she didn’t just feel comfortable here. She felt at home.

- The Following Night

The apartment was quiet except for the soft hum of rain tapping against the windows again.

Chaewon couldn’t sleep. She tossed, turned, and finally gave up, slipping out of bed to grab some water.

The living room lights were dim, and to her surprise, Lee Y/n was still awake — sitting on the couch, sketchbook in hand, a blanket draped lazily over his shoulders.

“You’re up late,” she said softly.

He glanced up and smiled faintly. “Could say the same to you.”

“Couldn’t sleep,” she admitted, sitting on the arm of the couch. “You?”

“Same. Too many thoughts.”

She nodded, staring at the rain-streaked window. “About your art?”

“About… everything,” he said quietly. “Life, mistakes, people who somehow make your days less dull.”

She looked at him, catching the tiny smirk he tried to hide. “Was that your way of calling me interesting?”

“Don’t push it,” he teased, but his tone was gentle.

For a moment, silence settled again — but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was the kind that felt safe.

“Hey,” he said suddenly, voice softer now. “Thanks… for sticking around.”

She blinked. “What do you mean?”

“Most people would’ve run off after how we started,” he said with a small laugh. “Guess I’m lucky you didn’t.”

Her heart thudded. “Maybe I just didn’t want to leave you with a mess.”

“Or maybe,” he said, meeting her eyes, “you actually like having me around.”

She scoffed, but her voice wavered. “Keep dreaming.”

He smiled — not the cocky one she was used to, but something softer. “Yeah… maybe I am.”

Their eyes lingered for a second too long, the air between them charged with something unspoken — until a thunderclap broke the spell.

Chaewon quickly stood, brushing her hair behind her ear. “I, uh… should probably go back to bed.”

“Right,” he said, his voice low. “Goodnight, Chaewon.”

“Goodnight, Y/n.”

As she closed her door, her hand lingered on the knob, heart racing. She could still feel his gaze — warm, quiet, and heavy with something she didn’t quite have the courage to name.

- The Following Morning

The next morning came with sunlight spilling through the blinds — too bright, too normal for how fast Chaewon’s heart was still beating.

She took her time getting ready, hoping Y/n would still be asleep. No such luck.

He was already in the kitchen, hair messy, hoodie half-zipped, humming quietly as he poured coffee.

“Morning,” he said without looking up.

“Morning,” she replied, her voice softer than usual. She grabbed a mug, careful not to meet his eyes.

The silence stretched, heavier than usual — not awkward, exactly, but full of everything left unsaid from last night.

“You sleep okay?” he asked, glancing at her.

“Yeah,” she lied quickly. “You?”

“Eventually,” he said with a faint smile. “Kept thinking about—” He stopped himself mid-sentence.

“About?” she asked, raising a brow.

“Uh… the painting,” he said, taking a quick sip of coffee.

“Right,” she said, pretending to believe him. “The painting.”

They both looked away at the same time, cheeks tinged with color.

A beat passed, then Y/n broke the silence. “Hey… about last night—”

“Nothing happened!” she blurted out, way too fast.

He blinked. “Didn’t say it did.”

“Right. I just—uh—making sure you didn’t, you know, think anything happened.”

“Uh-huh,” he said, fighting a grin. “Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

“You’re impossible,” she muttered, turning away — but he caught the tiny smile on her face.

As she walked toward her room, he called out, “Hey, Chaewon?”

She paused, looking over her shoulder.

“That song you were humming last night,” he said. “You should finish it.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he said with a small, genuine smile. “It suits you.”

Her chest tightened again — that same flutter from before. “Thanks,” she said quietly, disappearing into her room.

Y/n watched the door close, exhaling a soft laugh to himself.

“Yeah,” he murmured under his breath, “definitely not just roommates anymore.”

~~~

The days slipped by quietly after that morning, each one blurring into the next. They had fallen into a rhythm—morning coffee, separate work, shared dinners, and those long, quiet nights where neither wanted to admit how much they looked forward to them.

That Friday evening, the apartment was calm. A gentle tune hummed from Chaewon’s speaker as she tuned her guitar. Y/n sat across from her on the floor, sketching something in his notebook.

“You’ve been working on that for hours,” she said, strumming a chord. “What is it this time?”

“Just sketching ideas,” he replied. “You’ll make fun of me if I show you.”

“No, I won’t,” she promised, smiling. “Probably.”

He shot her a look, but handed her the sketchbook anyway.

Her breath caught. It wasn’t just a drawing—it was her again. But this time, she wasn’t sitting by the window. She was on the couch, guitar in her lap, head turned slightly toward the light. It looked… alive.

“Y/n…” she whispered. “It’s beautiful.”

He shrugged, trying to play it off. “You make it easy to draw.”

Her heart skipped. “You really need to stop saying things like that,” she muttered.

“Why?” he asked, meeting her gaze. “Because they sound like I mean them?”

The room fell quiet. The song playing in the background faded into the hum of the city outside.

She looked away first, cheeks warm. “You’re impossible.”

“Maybe,” he said softly, setting his pencil down. “But you don’t look away when I draw you anymore.”

Chaewon swallowed, unsure what to say. Her fingers trembled slightly on the guitar strings. “Maybe I’m getting used to it,” she murmured.

He leaned back, studying her face, his tone lower now. “Or maybe you’re not scared to let someone see you anymore.”

She froze, her chest tightening. He wasn’t smiling this time. He wasn’t teasing. He was just… honest.

“Y/n…”

“Yeah?”

“If you keep saying stuff like that…” she said quietly, “I won’t know how to stop thinking about you.”

His eyes widened just slightly—but before he could reply, her phone buzzed again on the table. The moment shattered.

She stood quickly, flustered. “I—I should get that.”

He nodded, eyes following her as she walked away.

The unfinished song still lingered between them—soft, delicate, and full of everything they didn’t quite have the courage to say.

~~~

The night air was thick with quiet.

Chaewon stood in her room, phone in hand, staring blankly at the message from Minho: “Still thinking about you. Hope you’re doing okay.”

She sighed and locked the screen, tossing the phone onto her bed. It wasn’t that she didn’t care—it was just that things felt… different now. Especially after what Y/n had said.

She left her room to clear her head—and found him standing by the balcony, sketchbook in hand, looking out at the city lights.

“You’re still up?” she asked quietly.

“Couldn’t sleep,” he said without turning. “You?”

“Same.”

She walked closer, the cool night breeze brushing past them. For a moment, neither spoke.

“That guy who texted,” he said suddenly. “Is he… someone important?”

Chaewon blinked, caught off guard. “Minho? No. Not anymore.”

He nodded slowly. “Good.”

She frowned. “Good?”

“Yeah,” he said, turning to meet her eyes. “Because it’d really suck if I was starting to fall for someone who wasn’t available.”

Her breath caught. “Y/n…”

He took a hesitant step closer. “I know it’s sudden. And maybe it’s stupid. But every time you walk into a room, I can’t focus on anything else. You’re loud, stubborn, messy as hell—”

“Wow, way to make a girl feel special,” she interrupted, heart racing.

He laughed softly, eyes warm. “—but you make this place feel like home. And I haven’t felt that in a long time.”

She froze, words caught in her throat. All the teasing, the late nights, the quiet smiles—it all clicked.

“You really mean that?” she asked.

“Every word.”

The city lights flickered between them, reflections dancing in their eyes. Slowly, almost without realizing it, she stepped closer.

“Then you should probably kiss me before I overthink this,” she whispered.

He smiled, soft and certain. “Wasn’t planning on waiting.”

And just like that, the distance vanished.

The noise of the city melted away, replaced by the quiet rhythm of two hearts finally beating in sync.

When they pulled apart, Chaewon’s cheeks were flushed, her voice barely above a whisper.

“You’re still kind of a jerk, you know.”

“Yeah,” Y/n said, grinning. “But now I’m your jerk.”

She laughed softly, leaning her forehead against his. “Guess I can live with that.”

~~~

Morning light streamed through the curtains, brushing across the living room. The air felt different — softer, quieter, charged with the memory of last night.

Chaewon stirred awake on the couch, realizing she’d fallen asleep there after… that. Her heart skipped at the thought. Did that really happen?

“Morning,” came a voice from the kitchen.

She sat up quickly, nearly knocking over a cushion. “Oh—uh, morning.”

Y/n stood there, hair a mess, wearing the same hoodie from last night. He held two mugs of coffee — and a look that was somewhere between shy and amused.

“You sleep okay?” he asked, setting one mug down in front of her.

“Yeah. I think,” she said, still flustered. “You?”

“Barely,” he admitted with a small smile. “Kept replaying… uh—never mind.”

She blushed immediately. “You mean the—”

“Yep,” he interrupted quickly, taking a long sip of his coffee.

They sat in silence for a moment, both pretending to be way too focused on their mugs.

“So,” she started, trying to sound casual. “That kiss…”

“Yeah?”

“It wasn’t—uh—a roommate thing, right?” she asked carefully.

He chuckled softly, leaning against the counter. “Pretty sure roommates don’t usually kiss like that.”

“Good,” she said before she could stop herself.

He grinned. “Good?”

“I mean—not good good, just… you know what I mean!” she stammered, hiding her face in her hands.

Y/n laughed quietly, setting his coffee down and moving closer. “You’re cute when you’re flustered

“And you’re impossible,” she muttered, but didn’t move away when he sat beside her.

“Maybe,” he said with a small smile. “But now I’m your impossible.”

She rolled her eyes, trying to suppress a grin. “If you keep saying things like that, I might actually start liking you.”

“Might?” he teased.

“Don’t push it,” she said — but the blush on her cheeks gave her away.

And as they sat there, laughing softly over coffee, the air between them finally felt easy — like love had quietly found its place in the middle of their chaos.

~~~

Three weeks later, Apartment 54 looked… lived in. Half-finished canvases leaned against the wall, a pile of guitar picks sat on the coffee table, and there was always music playing — either Chaewon’s humming or Y/n’s soft tapping of a brush against glass.

They’d fallen into a rhythm that felt easy and right.

“You’re using my mug again,” Chaewon said one morning, hands on her hips.

Y/n looked up from the stove, feigning confusion. “Your mug?”

“Yes, the blue one with the tiny crack. You said it was cursed!”

“Well,” he said, handing her a plate of pancakes, “guess I wanted to test my luck.”

“Unbelievable,” she muttered — but she smiled as she took the plate.

Later that afternoon, Y/n painted while Chaewon recorded vocals in her small setup. Through the wall, he could hear her laughing at her own mistakes, starting over again and again. It made him smile — the sound of her voice had become the heartbeat of the apartment.

Around sunset, she wandered into his art room, curious as always. “Working on another masterpiece?”

“Maybe,” he said, brushing a line of gold across the canvas. “Want to see?”

She leaned over — and froze. It was a painting of two mugs sitting side by side on the kitchen counter. Her cursed blue one… and his chipped gray one.

“You painted our mugs?” she asked softly.

He shrugged. “They looked right together.”

Her heart swelled, caught somewhere between laughter and tears. “You’re such a sap.”

“You love it,” he said, smiling.

“Yeah,” she admitted quietly. “I really do.”

He reached out, brushing a bit of paint off her cheek. “You’ve got color on you.”

“You did that on purpose,” she said, narrowing her eyes.

“Maybe,” he teased.

“Oh, you’re so—” she lunged for him, smearing a streak of blue across his jaw.

“Hey!” he laughed, dodging but failing miserably. In seconds, it turned into a full-blown paint war — laughter echoing through the apartment.

When they finally stopped, breathless and messy, Chaewon looked at him, her voice softer.

“You know,” she said, “I think this apartment really is perfect now.”

“Yeah?” he said, smiling. “Why’s that?”

“Because you’re in it.”

He smiled back, eyes warm. “Guess that makes two of us.”

Outside, the evening light bathed the room in gold. Inside, the chaos of paint and laughter felt like home.

~~~~

A few months later, Apartment 54 had changed again.

Not physically — the same canvases lined the walls, the same guitar rested by the couch — but it felt different. There was something unspoken in the air lately, a quiet tension beneath the laughter.

Chaewon sat at the table, scrolling through her emails. Her eyes landed on one from a small music studio — the kind of opportunity she’d dreamed about. They wanted her to record a demo. In Busan.

“Hey,” Y/n said from the other room, breaking her train of thought. “You’ve been quiet all morning.”

“Just… reading something,” she replied quickly, closing her laptop.

He walked in, paint still on his hands, curiosity written all over his face. “Something good?”

“Yeah. Maybe. A studio wants me to record a song. But it’s in Busan.”

He smiled, proud. “That’s amazing, Chaewon!”

“It’s only for a few weeks,” she said carefully. “But they want me to move there if it goes well.”

His smile faltered, just a little. “Oh.”

“Yeah.”

Silence settled — heavy and uncertain.

“You should do it,” Y/n said finally, forcing a smile. “This is your dream.”

“I know,” she said quietly. “I just… didn’t think it would come this soon.”

“Hey,” he said, stepping closer. “We’ll figure it out. Long distance isn’t impossible.”

She looked at him, eyes soft. “You say that now, but what if it changes everything?”

“Then we’ll change together,” he said simply.

Chaewon smiled, but something inside her still twisted.

Later that night, she found Y/n on the balcony, staring out at the city. The sketchbook lay open beside him — but instead of drawing, he’d written something.

“What’s that?” she asked.

He closed it quickly, smiling. “Nothing. Just… thinking again.”

“About me leaving?”

“About us,” he admitted. “I want you to chase your dream. I just wish it didn’t mean chasing you from far away.”

She reached out, taking his paint-stained hand in hers. “You won’t lose me, Y/n.”

He squeezed her hand gently. “You promise?”

“I promise.”

The night stretched quiet and still — full of love, fear, and everything in between.

Neither of them said it aloud, but they both knew:

Sometimes the hardest part of loving someone is learning when to let them fly.

~~~~

The day Chaewon left, the apartment felt empty.

Her laughter no longer echoed through the hall, and Y/n found himself pausing mid-brushstroke, expecting to hear her humming from the other room. But there was only silence.

She texted him when she arrived in Busan:

Chaewon: Landed safe. The studio’s smaller than I thought, but it feels right.

Y/n: Good. Don’t forget to eat, okay? And send me your new song when you finish it.

Chaewon: Bossy as ever. Miss you already.

He smiled at the screen for longer than he’d admit.

Days passed, and their messages turned into nightly video calls. She’d tell him about long recording hours and ramen dinners, and he’d show her the new paintings he’d started—one of which, she eventually noticed, had her reflection hidden in the background.

“You painted me again,” she said one night, laughing.

“I keep trying not to,” he said, “but you sneak in anyway.”

Her smile softened. “You’re such a sap.”

“You love it,” he teased, but his voice was quiet, careful.

Weeks turned into a month. Her song began to gain traction online, small but steady, and she started spending more time at the studio. Calls became shorter. Texts took longer to arrive.

One evening, Y/n sat on the balcony with his phone, typing and deleting the same message over and over.

I miss you.

He finally hit send.

It took an hour before her reply came.

Chaewon: I miss you too. I’m sorry I’ve been busy. Things are getting crazy here.

Y/n: Don’t apologize. You’re doing amazing.

He meant it — but when he looked at the empty couch where she used to sit, the words hurt a little.

A few days later, she sent a voice message instead of a text. Her tone was soft, tired, but warm.

“Hey… I listened to one of your old recordings today — the one with the guitar near the window. I miss that sound. I miss home. I miss you.”

Y/n closed his eyes, the ache in his chest melting into a quiet smile.

“Then come back soon,” he whispered to himself.

Outside, the night was still — but for the first time in weeks, he picked up his brush again. This time, he painted not just her image… but the space between them.

~~~~

The train from Busan to Seoul rattled softly, the hum of the tracks matching the rhythm in Chaewon’s chest. Months had passed since she left — months of new faces, music sessions, and long nights staring at her phone, missing the sound of his voice.

Her song had taken off more than she expected. The studio wanted her full-time now, but the one thing she couldn’t stop thinking about wasn’t her music.

It was Y/n.

When the train finally stopped, she exhaled a shaky breath and whispered to herself, “Home.”

⸻

The key still fit perfectly in the lock.

Apartment 54 smelled exactly the same — faint coffee, paint, and something that was just him.

“Hello?” she called softly.

From the art room, a familiar voice answered. “Chaewon?”

He appeared in the doorway, paint still on his hands, looking both stunned and relieved all at once.

“You’re… back,” he said, almost afraid to believe it.

She nodded, smiling nervously. “Surprise.”

For a moment, neither moved. Then he stepped forward, closing the distance. She barely had time to breathe before his arms were around her.

“You have no idea how much I missed you,” Y/n murmured against her hair.

She laughed softly, clutching him back. “I think I do.”

When they finally pulled apart, his eyes lingered on her face — the tiredness from travel, the sparkle of happiness she tried to hide.

“You look different,” he said. “Happier.”

“Busan will do that to you,” she teased. “But… I missed this.”

“The paint smell or me?”

“Both,” she said, smiling.

⸻

That night, they sat on the balcony again — the same spot where he’d once told her he was falling for her.

“How was it?” he asked.

“Amazing,” she said honestly. “Terrifying too. But I learned a lot. About music… and about what I really want.”

“And what’s that?” he asked softly.

She looked at him, eyes glinting in the city light. “To keep making music. But not alone.”

He smiled — the kind that reached his eyes this time. “You mean…?”

“I mean you,” she said simply. “Home didn’t feel like home without you in it.”

Y/n took her hand gently, thumb brushing her skin. “Then don’t leave again.”

She squeezed his hand. “Not unless you come with me.”

The city below seemed to fade away — just two people, one promise, and the warmth of a love that had quietly waited to be rediscovered.

And for the first time in months, both of them knew:

They were exactly where they were meant to be.

~~~~

A year had passed since the day Chaewon came back to Apartment 54.

The place had changed again — not from new furniture or paint, but from life. From laughter that filled the rooms, from music that blended with the soft scent of acrylics, from the quiet warmth of two hearts that had finally found their rhythm.

Chaewon’s song — the one she wrote during her nights in Busan — had gone viral. She still couldn’t quite believe it. Fans sent her messages about how it “felt like home,” and every time she read one, she’d glance at Y/n, who always smiled knowingly.

He’d opened a small art studio downtown. Sometimes, people would stop to ask about the portraits displayed in the window — the girl with the gentle smile, the paint-stained hands, the spark in her eyes.

“That’s my muse,” he’d say simply.

They still argued — about laundry, about who finished the coffee, about whose turn it was to take out the trash — but those tiny moments had become part of their rhythm. Their chaos. Their love.

One evening, as the golden hour painted the room in soft orange light, Chaewon sat by the window, strumming her guitar.

“What are you working on?” Y/n asked, leaning against the doorframe.

“A new song,” she said, smiling. “About us.”

“Yeah?” he asked, grinning. “Should I be nervous?”

“A little,” she teased. “It’s about a girl who moved into an apartment with a total jerk.”

“Ah. Sounds familiar.”

“Don’t worry,” she said, eyes twinkling. “He turns out to be the love of her life.”

He laughed, crossing the room to kiss her forehead. “I like how it ends.”

“Me too.”

She started playing again — soft, steady chords that filled the apartment with warmth.

Y/n picked up his sketchbook, sitting beside her on the floor, drawing while she sang.

Two creators, two dreamers, two hearts that had collided by accident and stayed by choice.

Outside, the city moved on — busy, loud, endless.

But inside Apartment 54, time slowed.

Home wasn’t just walls or windows anymore.

It was them.

~~~~

The End!🥲

My first Ever Fic!!!! A fluff to start the launch of new writer! Smuts will be written too so don’t worry!😉

-

The hospital is a blur of sterile white walls and harsh fluorescent lights. The antiseptic smell fills your nostrils as you rush through the corridors, searching for the right room. Your chest feels tight, your breaths shallow. Kazuha meets you outside, her face pale and her hands trembling slightly.

“She’s stable,” Kazuha says quickly, trying to reassure you. “But she hit her head pretty hard. The doctors are saying she might have some memory loss.”

“Memory…loss?” The words barely register as you push past her and into the room.

Chaewon lies on the bed, her face pale and peaceful in a way that feels wrong. A bandage is wrapped around her head, a stark white contrast against her dark hair. You approach her slowly, your steps hesitant.

“Chae?” you whisper, sitting down beside her. Her lashes flutter, and she stirs slightly before her eyes open. Relief floods through you as you lean closer.

“You’re awake,” you say, your voice trembling. “Thank god. You’re okay.”

Her eyes blink slowly, focusing on you. For a moment, it feels like everything will be fine. But then her brow furrows, and she tilts her head slightly.

“Who… are you?” she asks, her voice soft but filled with confusion.

You blink, frozen in place. Her words echo in your mind: Who… are you?

Kazuha places a hand on your shoulder, squeezing gently. “Y/N, let’s step outside for a moment. The doctor wants to talk to you.”

Your gaze lingers on Chaewon’s confused expression, and you force a shaky smile. “I’ll be right back,” you whisper, your voice barely audible.

She nods faintly, though you can tell she’s unsure why you’re even here. Her eyes flicker to Kazuha for a brief moment before she leans back against the pillows, exhaustion taking over.

Once you’re out in the hallway, you let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. The doctor approaches, a clipboard in hand and a calm but professional demeanour.

“You must be Y/N,” he says. “I’m Dr. Park. I’ve been handling Ms. Kim's case.”

"Ah yea, evening Doc." You nod, gripping the hem of your shirt nervously. “What’s… what’s wrong with her? Is she going to be okay?”

“She’s stable,” he reassures you, glancing at his notes. “But as you might have guessed, the head trauma has caused some memory loss. From our initial tests, it appears she’s unable to recall the past two years.”

“T-two years?” You repeat, your voice trembling. You glance through the small window into her room, watching as Chaewon lies there, her face serene and unaware.

Dr. Park nods. “This type of retrograde amnesia isn’t uncommon in cases like hers. The memories she’s lost may come back over time, or they might not. For now, it’s best not to push her to remember. Stress could make her condition worse.”

“Does she know… does she know anything about me?” you ask hesitantly.

The doctor hesitates. “She remembers people and events prior to the memory gap clearly. But anyone she’s met in the last two years, including you… I’m afraid you’ll be a stranger to her.”

His words hit you harder than you expect, but you nod, trying to keep your expression neutral. “So, what should I do? How do I… help her?”

“Take things slow,” he advises. “Reintroduce yourself as someone here to support her. Let her regain her sense of normalcy first. The rest will come with time, if it’s meant to.”

You thank him quietly, your mind racing. A strange mix of relief and uncertainty bubbles within you. She doesn’t remember the fights, the sharp words, the constant tension—but she also doesn’t remember the good moments, the times when you thought there was still hope.

A part of you feels like this is a reset button, a rare chance to start over. But another part can’t shake the hollow ache of being erased from her life so completely.

You take a steadying breath before walking back into the room. Chaewon’s eyes flit to you as you enter, her expression unreadable.

“Hey,” you say softly, pulling a chair closer to her bedside.

She tilts her head, studying you carefully. “You… You’re Kazuha’s friend, right?”

You glance at Kazuha, who gives you a subtle nod of encouragement from the doorway. Turning back to Chaewon, you force a small smile. “Yeah. I’m just… here to help however I can.”

Chaewon seems to accept this, though the skepticism in her eyes remains. “Thanks, I guess,” she mutters, her voice laced with tiredness.

As she closes her eyes to rest, you lean back in the chair, letting out a slow breath. A small part of you feels lighter than you have in months. No arguments, no cutting remarks—just quiet. Peaceful, even.

But as you watch her, the weight of her blank stare still lingers in your chest. The person you love doesn’t know who you are. And yet, you can’t help but think: maybe this is a chance to show her a version of yourself she could love all over again.

For now, you let the hope settle, hidden behind the mask of quiet sadness you wear for her sake.

-

The week passes in a blur. Chaewon’s recovery is faster than anyone expected. Physically, she’s almost back to normal, but the gap in her memory remains. You watch her adjust to this new reality, navigating her day-to-day life with a mix of determination and frustration.

True to the doctor’s advice, you’ve been patient, reintroducing yourself as a supportive figure in her life without overwhelming her. She accepts your presence without question—polite, a little guarded, but far removed from the sharp-tongued firecracker you’ve known for so long.

Her management team decided it would be best for Chaewon to ease back into her idol activities gradually. You accompany her, not as her partner, but as someone who can help with her day-to-day needs. Kazuha and Sakura are visibly relieved to have you there, knowing how well you understand Chaewon’s habits.

On set, Chaewon is a model of professionalism. She’s diligent, respectful, and surprisingly soft-spoken. When she doesn’t understand something—a choreography move, a filming cue—she asks politely instead of figuring it out on her own like she used to.

“It’s weird,” she admits to you one evening, fiddling with the hem of her sweatshirt. “I don’t remember the last two years, but I still know all the lyrics and choreography. It’s like muscle memory, I guess.”

You smile faintly from where you’re sitting across the room. “That’s a good thing, right? At least it’s one less thing to stress about.”

She nods, her brows furrowing. “I guess. But it feels like I’m walking into someone else’s life. Like, who was I? Was I…” She pauses, searching for the right words. “Was I any good at it?”

You hesitate, a pang of guilt twisting in your chest. She was more than good—she was extraordinary. But her fiery ambition often bled into her personal life, creating the tension that had defined your relationship. Now, all you see is a softer, more vulnerable Chaewon.

“You were great,” you say finally. “Still are.”

Her lips twitch into a small smile, and for once, there’s no sharp remark to follow it.

You’re there in the background, watching as she joined with her members, laughs softly at their jokes, and engages with fans with genuine warmth. It’s such a far cry from the Chaewon who used to tease you mercilessly or snap when she was stressed.

-

At first, it’s disorienting.

One afternoon, as you help her organize a stack of photo cards at a fan sign event, she flashes you a small, almost shy smile.

“Thanks,” she says quietly, her tone devoid of the usual edge you once expected.

You nearly drop the cards. “No problem,” you manage, your voice awkward.

She doesn’t seem to notice, already turning back to greet the next fan with her signature smile.

Another day at their practice room, you accompany her under the pretence of helping her settle back in. The truth is, you just want to see this new side of her in action.

Chaewon seems… different. Lighter. She laughs with her members more, her usual sharp edge replaced by something softer. You watch from the corner of the practice room as she playfully ruffles Eunchae’s hair, earning a squeal of protest from the younger girl.

“Unnie, stop!” Eunchae whines, swatting Chaewon’s hand away.

Chaewon grins, her eyes crinkling in that familiar way that always made your heart skip a beat. “What? I’m just making sure our maknae looks her best.”

The rest of the group chuckles, and you find yourself smiling too. It’s a scene you’d rarely witnessed before, where Chaewon seems completely at ease with herself and those around her.

During their lunch break, Kazuha sits beside you, nudging your shoulder. “You’ve been staring at her a lot.”

You blink, caught off guard. “Have I…?”

Kazuha smirks. “Yeah. You look like you’re seeing a whole new Chaewon.”

You glance at Chaewon, who’s currently chatting animatedly with Sakura and Yunjin. “Maybe I am,” you admit quietly.

Kazuha’s expression softens. “It’s good, right? This version of her?”

You nod. “Yeah. It’s… it’s really good.”

-

By the end of the week, you’re starting to notice the cracks in your own resolve.

You don’t miss the fights—not the arguments or the hurtful words or the way she could turn a perfectly fine evening into a battlefield. What you do miss is the spark.

Chaewon’s teasing, for all its rough edges, had always carried a certain energy. There was a wit to her remarks, a confidence that made everything she said hit just the right spot between infuriating and endearing. You used to catch her smirking at you when she thought you weren’t looking, as if she enjoyed seeing how far she could push your buttons.

Now, she’s… gentle. Easy to be around. And yet, you find yourself yearning for the banter, the fire that kept you on your toes.

It’s a strange contradiction. You enjoy this new version of her, free from the biting remarks and the heavy tension that used to hang between you. But in quiet moments, when she’s busy scrolling through her phone or practicing her vocals, you find yourself wondering if she’d ever smirk at you again.

One evening, after a particularly long day of rehearsals, you’re both sitting in her apartment. Chaewon is sprawled out on the couch, her hair still damp from a quick shower. You’re at the kitchen counter, making tea.

“Y/N,” she calls out suddenly, her voice soft but clear.

You glance over. “Yeah?”

“Why do you always help me?” she asks, her tone genuinely curious.

You pause, gripping the handle of the kettle. “What do you mean?”

She shrugs, sitting up. “You don’t owe me anything. But you’re always here, even when I forget things or need help with stupid stuff. It’s… nice, but I don’t get it.”

Her words catch you off guard. For a moment, you don’t know how to respond.

“I just… care,” you say finally, avoiding her gaze. “I’m here because I want to be, not because I have to be.”

She doesn’t say anything right away. When you glance at her, she’s watching you with an expression you can’t quite place—curiosity mixed with something softer, almost vulnerable.

“Thanks,” she says again, quieter this time.

You nod, busying yourself with the tea to hide the lump forming in your throat.

Later that night, as you lie awake on the couch, you can’t help but reflect on how far things have come—and how much has changed.

This new Chaewon is someone you could fall for all over again. She’s kinder, gentler, more open in ways you never expected. But there’s a part of you that aches for the old Chaewon too—the one who used to challenge you, frustrate you, and make you laugh in ways no one else could.

It’s a bittersweet thought, knowing you may never get her back the way she was. But as you close your eyes, you remind yourself that this is a new beginning, a chance to love her for who she is now, not who she used to be.

And as you began to fall asleep, you can’t help but wonder how long this fragile peace will last.

-

The days slip by in a strange rhythm, where you’re never quite sure who you’ll see when you look at Chaewon.

At times, it’s like she’s still the same—sweet, easy-going, even a little shy around you. But other times, the fire you remember from before flares up unexpectedly, like a switch flipping.

You’ve gotten used to the gentle, more compliant Chaewon, the one who asks you for help with every little thing. But when her old personality slips through—when she’s sharp, playful, and downright teasing—it’s like the rug gets pulled out from under you.

One morning, you’re getting ready to leave the apartment. Chaewon is sitting on the couch, fiddling with her phone. You make your way toward the door, your keys in hand.

“Hey,” she says, her voice low and almost playful.

You stop and turn, raising an eyebrow. “Yeah?”

Her eyes glint mischievously as she leans back on the couch, crossing her arms. “You know, you’re kinda cute when you’re all flustered.”

Your stomach does a nervous flip. “What are you talking about?” You laugh awkwardly, glancing away.

She smirks, the old Chaewon you’ve missed suddenly making an appearance. “The way you get all nervous around me when I say things like that. It’s cute. I think I might start teasing you more.”

Your heart races, half amused and half unsettled. “Chae…” You try to act annoyed, but your tone betrays you. “You don’t even remember me. What do you mean by that?”

She tilts her head, eyes narrowing with something you can’t quite read. “Maybe I don’t remember all the details, but I remember you. The guy who’s always around, always hovering, always trying to help. How could I forget you?”

Your breath catches, a flutter of hope igniting in your chest. But before you can respond, she bursts out laughing. “Just kidding, Y/N. But seriously, don’t you get it? You’re like an open book. So easy to tease.”

It feels like an old routine—one you know well. You grin despite yourself, but the warmth in your chest quickly fades into the familiar uncertainty. Was this just a moment of her old self slipping through, or was it something more?

She gets up, not waiting for an answer, her usual carefree confidence taking over once again. “You should get going. I don’t want you to be late.”

And just like that, the teasing fades, and she’s back to the softer version of herself. You stand there, still feeling the aftershock of the teasing and the warmth from that brief return to the Chaewon you used to know.

-

Later that week, you’re both at a recording studio for LE SSERAFIM’s comeback preparations.

Chaewon is focused on the choreography, her movements deliberate but careful. You’re sitting in the corner of the room, watching her with a quiet sense of pride, when she suddenly stumbles over a step, losing her balance for a moment.

You instinctively stand up, ready to rush over, but she waves you off with a dismissive hand. “I’m fine,” she mutters, brushing her hair out of her face. “Don’t act like you’re my manager or something.”

Your jaw tightens, the familiar spark of annoyance bubbling up inside you. “Chae, I’m just trying to help.”

She glances up at you, her expression sharp, almost a little… cruel. “Stop acting like I need you to. I’m perfectly capable of doing things on my own.”

You freeze. This is the Chaewon you remember—the one who never asked for help, the one who got irritated when anyone tried to make things easier for her.

For a moment, you forget that she doesn’t remember everything, and your heart sinks. You had hoped this version of her was gone, that the softer, gentler Chaewon would be the one to stay. But here she is, slipping back into her old self, the one who pushed you away when you tried to get close.

“Okay,” you say quietly, masking the hurt in your voice. “I’ll stay out of your way then.”

You sit back down, your hands resting in your lap as the silence stretches between you. Chaewon doesn’t say anything more, but there’s a tension in the air that wasn’t there before.

-

Over the next few days, these shifts continue. Sometimes, she’s the easy-going Chaewon you’ve gotten used to—polite, soft-spoken, even a little shy in her interactions with you. Other times, she snaps, teasing you with a bite in her words that leaves you reeling, or she’ll shut down, acting distant and cold.

You can’t predict when the old Chaewon will emerge, and it’s disorienting. It’s like she’s two people, and you’re not sure which one you’re going to face each day.

But then, one evening, she surprises you again.

You’re sitting on the couch together, both too tired to say much after a long day of practice. The quiet isn’t uncomfortable, but it’s heavy.

Chaewon’s smile widens, but it’s different this time—not as teasing or sharp. It’s softer, almost tender, like she’s rediscovering something she once knew. She leans back against the couch, her gaze drifting to the ceiling, her thoughts seemingly miles away.

“I think I’m starting to remember more,” she says, her voice almost inaudible.

You freeze, a flutter of hope stirring in your chest. “Remember more?”

She looks at you, a faint smile still tugging at her lips. “Yeah. The old me. The one who used to—” Her words trail off, as if she’s still piecing things together in her mind. “Maybe I was a little too much sometimes… difficult. But I think I’m figuring out who I really am now.”

The words hit you harder than you expect. There’s something almost melancholic in the way she speaks, a quiet acknowledgment of her past, yet also a sense of self-awareness in the present.

You stay silent, watching her closely. There’s no sharp retort, no teasing grin to follow. For a moment, you just exist in this space, caught between who Chaewon was and who she’s becoming.

For a while, neither of you speaks. But you know—no matter which version of her you get, the part of her that’s still here, right now, is still the Chaewon you care about. Maybe it’s not the same, and maybe it never will be, but that doesn’t make it any less real. And for now, that’s enough.

-

It starts innocently enough—a rare free day where you and Chaewon decide to hang out in your apartment. She’s lounging on the couch, scrolling through her phone, while you’re in the kitchen attempting to make lunch. Everything is blissfully normal until you hear her gasp dramatically.

“YAAAA!” she shouts, the intensity of her voice startling you so much that you nearly drop the spatula.

“What? What happened?” you ask, rushing into the living room, half-expecting to see something catastrophic.

Chaewon’s eyes narrow as she points accusingly at you with her phone. “How could you?”

You blink, utterly confused. “How could I… what?”

Her face twists in mock devastation as she waves her phone like it’s evidence in a court case. “I was looking through old photos, and you were smiling way too much in the pictures we took during my memory loss phase.”

You stare at her, waiting for the punchline, but she looks genuinely offended. “What does that even mean?”

“It means,” she says, sitting up and glaring at you, “that you clearly liked her more than me. Admit it!”

You pinch the bridge of your nose, trying to process the absurdity of the situation. “Chae, you are her. It’s literally still you.”

“But it’s not me!” she insists, crossing her arms and pouting. “That version of me was sweet and soft and totally not me. You liked her better because she wasn’t mean to you, didn’t she?”

“I—what?” you stammer, completely thrown off. “No! I mean, she was nice, sure, but I didn’t like her better! It’s the same person, Chae!”

“Liar!” she exclaims, standing up and stomping over to you. “You probably enjoyed having her dote on you, didn’t you? Bet you didn’t even miss the real me at all!”

You take a cautious step back, holding your hands up defensively. “I did miss you! And I didn’t cheat on you with... you! That doesn’t even make sense!”

Chaewon huffs, her jealousy reaching peak absurdity. “Oh, it makes perfect sense. I leave for a few weeks mentally, and you’re out here having the time of your life with some soft, clingy version of me. Unbelievable!”

She pokes your chest, her expression a mix of irritation and… something else. “Admit it! You liked how she was all shy and asked for help, didn’t you? Bet you enjoyed being the big, helpful boyfriend for once instead of dealing with me!”

You can’t help it—you burst out laughing. The whole situation is so ridiculous you can’t take it seriously anymore.

“Chaewon, do you hear yourself right now? You’re jealous of yourself.”

Her cheeks flush, and she smacks your arm. “Don’t laugh! This is serious! I’m trying to have a heartfelt moment here.”

“Heartfelt?” you repeat between laughs. “You’re accusing me of emotionally cheating on you with another version of you. That’s not heartfelt—that’s a sitcom plot!”

Chaewon’s pout deepens, but there’s a hint of a smile threatening to break through her faux anger. “Well… maybe I’m a little jealous, okay? You didn’t seem to miss me as much as I thought you would.”

You sigh, shaking your head in exasperation. “Chaewon, I missed you every single day. The real you.”

Her glare falters, but she doesn’t back down. Instead, she crosses her arms and looks away, pouting. “You’re just saying that to get out of trouble.”

You take a cautious step closer, tilting your head to catch her eye. “Trouble for what? Loving my girlfriend, no matter which version of her I get?”

She glances at you, her pout softening slightly. “You’re lucky you’re cute,” she mutters under her breath.

Just as you’re about to breathe a sigh of relief, she surprises you by grabbing your shirt and pulling you down to her level. Her lips crash against yours in a kiss so sudden and intense that your brain short-circuits.

When she finally pulls away, she’s still glaring, but there’s a faint blush on her cheeks. “That’s so you don’t forget who you really belong to.”

Before you can respond, she kisses you again, her hands tangling in your hair as if staking her claim. “Chae—”

“Shut up,” she murmurs against your lips. “I’m still mad.”

You can’t help but laugh, your hands settling on her waist. “You don’t seem that mad to me.”

“Don’t push your luck,” she warns, but there’s no real heat in her voice.

By the time she lets you go, you’re both out of breath, and the tension has melted away entirely. She steps back, her arms still crossed, but there’s a sheepish smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

“So,” you say, trying to catch your breath, “are we good now? Or should I prepare for another interrogation about cheating on you with… you?”

She rolls her eyes but leans into your chest, her head resting against you. “We’re good. But if I ever catch you looking at ‘soft Chaewon’ like that again, we’re going to have words.”

You chuckle, wrapping your arms around her. “Noted. But for the record, I love you—sharp edges and all.”

She looks up at you, her smile softening. “Good. Because you’re stuck with me, no matter which version of me shows up.”

Maybe you’ve been accused of cheating, maybe it’s all completely ridiculous, but in that moment, you can’t help but love her even more—especially when she’s acting like her old, impossible self.

you woke up to a trainwreck of migraines. you tried to get out of bed, only to find out that every single muscle in your body was sore.

you groaned—there was no way you could go to dance practice in this state.

you quickly thumbed a message on the groupchat: im sick. i can’t make it to practice tdy

you threw your phone somewhere on your bed and closed your eyes, your eyelids feeling heavy.

–

you had almost started drifting back to sleep when footsteps sounded towards your room.

chaewon peeked her head in, a plastic bag in her hands.

“can i come in?”

“sure,” you croaked, immediately wincing at the roughness in your throat.

she sat on your bedside, careful not to jostle the blankets. her chest tightened at how small you looked under the sheets. 

“don’t you have to go to dance practice?” you whispered, leaning into her touch as she brushed your hair away from your face.

she shook her head gently. “i told them to practice without us. there’s no way i’m going to leave you alone when you’re sick.” 

chaewon reached in her plastic bag and pulled out a vial of medicine. 

“open.”

you swallowed the disgusting cough syrup, gagging a little as you did so.

“good girl,” she cooed softly. she didn’t fail to notice the light blush that dusted your cheeks (though you blamed it on the fever, of course). 

she tucked the blanket closer to your body, noticing how your body shivered uncontrollably. 

when she pulled her hand back, your fingers curled around her sleeve without thinking. 

“stay,” you mumbled.

chaewon’s heart melted at your gesture. “i’m not going anywhere.” 

“you promise?” you were starting to feel a little sleepy again, the medicine having taken its effect 

____________________

The sun had barely risen, and the dorm was quiet except for the faint hum of the refrigerator in the kitchen. Kim Chaewon stretched as she shuffled out of her room, her hair slightly disheveled but her mind already racing through the day’s agenda. With a yawn, she grabbed her favorite mug and poured herself a cup of coffee, its warmth helping her shake off the remnants of sleep.

The quiet mornings were her time to prepare—not just for herself, but for her members. Leadership wasn’t just a title for Chaewon; it was a responsibility she embraced wholeheartedly. Between rehearsals, variety shows, and managing their shared living space, there was always something to think about.

She glanced at the group calendar on her phone. “Dance practice at 10, a meeting with the stylists at 2… oh, and Eunchae has that school thing later,” she murmured to herself, mentally adding a note to remind their youngest about her outfit.

The sound of footsteps broke her thoughts. Yunjin trudged into the kitchen, her hair in a lopsided bun and her hoodie hanging off one shoulder.

“Morning, unnie,” Yunjin mumbled, reaching for the cereal box.

“Morning. Sleep well?” Chaewon asked, taking a sip of her coffee.

Yunjin shrugged. “I think I dreamt about forgetting the choreography again. You know, typical idol nightmares.”

Chaewon chuckled. “Well, good thing we have practice later. I’ll make sure you don’t forget anything.”

Before long, the dorm was alive with noise. Sakura appeared next, already dressed and looking composed as ever. Kazuha followed shortly, her bedhead contrasting her poised demeanor. Eunchae bounded into the room last, full of energy, already singing a random song she had likely made up on the spot.

As the leader, Chaewon found herself playing multiple roles at once. She was a scheduler, a referee, a motivator, and sometimes even a nagging older sister.

“Eunchae, you have school later—don’t forget your uniform,” she called out over the chatter.

“Kazuha, let’s go over that spin move before practice, okay?”

“Yunjin, eat something healthy with that cereal.”

“Sakura unnie, can you help me remind everyone about the stylists’ meeting this afternoon?”

Each member responded in their own way: Eunchae saluted dramatically, Kazuha nodded with a soft smile, Yunjin pouted, and Sakura gave a knowing laugh.

As chaotic as mornings could be, these moments grounded Chaewon. Watching her members interact—their banter, their laughter, their quirks—reminded her why she loved this job. It wasn’t always easy being a leader, but for them, it was worth it.

With a deep breath, she smiled. “Alright, everyone, let’s get moving. We’ve got a busy day ahead.”

And just like that, the day began, each moment a new challenge and a new joy.

-----

Sakura

In the chaos of idol life, there was one person Chaewon could always rely on to keep things steady: Sakura. As the oldest member of the group, Sakura had a quiet wisdom about her, paired with years of experience in the industry that Chaewon deeply respected.

The two had developed an unspoken rhythm over time. Chaewon led with energy and drive, while Sakura balanced it with calm and level-headedness. Together, they were like yin and yang—opposite forces that worked in harmony to keep Le Sserafim running smoothly.

This particular morning, Chaewon found Sakura sitting cross-legged on the living room couch, scrolling through her phone. A half-finished cup of green tea sat on the coffee table in front of her.

“Unnie,” Chaewon began, plopping down beside her. “Have you looked at the setlist for tomorrow’s showcase yet? I feel like the transitions need some tweaking.”

Sakura looked up and gave her a small smile. “I did. I think you’re right. The first three songs flow well, but the tempo shift between the third and fourth feels abrupt. We can bring it up in practice later.”

Chaewon sighed in relief. “I knew you’d catch that too. Thanks for always being on top of things, unnie.”

Sakura chuckled softly. “That’s my job as your unofficial second-in-command, right?”

The two shared a laugh. Despite their teasing, there was a mutual understanding between them. Sakura had always been someone Chaewon could vent to when the weight of leadership felt too heavy.

“Remember when we were first deciding on positions in the group?” Sakura reminisced, setting her phone aside. “You were so nervous about being the leader.”

Chaewon rolled her eyes, though a sheepish grin crept onto her face. “Of course I was nervous! It’s a lot of pressure, unnie. And back then, I thought you should’ve been the leader. You had way more experience than I did.”

“But you’re perfect for it,” Sakura said with a sincerity that made Chaewon pause. “You care about everyone. You’re proactive, and you lead by example. The members trust you because they see how much effort you put in.”

Chaewon looked down at her hands, feeling a warmth spread through her chest. “Thanks, unnie. That means a lot coming from you.”

Sakura reached over and gave Chaewon’s hand a light squeeze. “Anytime. Just don’t forget that you’re not alone. You have all of us to lean on, especially me.”

Their conversation was interrupted by the sound of Yunjin shouting from the kitchen, “WHO FINISHED THE MILK?!”

Sakura and Chaewon burst into laughter, the serious moment giving way to their usual dynamic.

“Should we go help her?” Sakura asked, though she didn’t seem in any rush to get up.

“Nah,” Chaewon replied, leaning back into the couch. “Let her figure it out. It’s good character development.”

Sakura laughed again, shaking her head. “You’re terrible.”

“Maybe,” Chaewon said with a grin. “But I’m your terrible leader.”

And in that moment, as they sat side by side, Chaewon was reminded of just how lucky she was to have someone like Sakura by her side.

-----

Yunjin

If Sakura was Chaewon’s reliable confidant, Yunjin was her ultimate test of patience—and a never-ending source of entertainment. As the group’s resident ball of energy and mischief, Yunjin brought a whirlwind of unpredictability into Chaewon’s otherwise meticulously planned days.

“YAH! Huh Yunjin!” Chaewon’s voice echoed through the dorm as she burst into the kitchen, where Yunjin stood in front of the open fridge, a tub of kimchi in one hand and a plate of half-eaten toast in the other.

Yunjin blinked at her innocently. “What? I didn’t finish the milk this time!”

Chaewon crossed her arms, glaring at the crumbs scattered all over the countertop. “No, but you left the rice cooker open, the soy sauce lid off, and—what is that?!” She pointed at the monstrosity on Yunjin’s plate.

“It’s my famous kimchi-toast combo!” Yunjin declared proudly, holding it up as if she were presenting a Michelin-star dish.

“That’s not famous. That’s disgusting.”

“Don’t knock it ‘til you try it, Captain!” Yunjin teased, shoving the plate in Chaewon’s direction.

Chaewon groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose. “How are you like this? How do you function?”

“I’m a genius in disguise,” Yunjin replied with a wink, taking a huge bite of her bizarre creation.

Despite the frustration bubbling in Chaewon’s chest, she couldn’t help but chuckle. That was the thing about Yunjin—no matter how chaotic she got, she had an infectious charm that made it impossible to stay mad at her.

Later that day, during practice, Yunjin’s antics continued. As the group worked on choreography, Chaewon kept a sharp eye on every member, her leader instincts in full force.

“Yunjin, straighten your arms on the spin!” Chaewon called out.

“Got it!” Yunjin shouted back, only to immediately trip over her own feet and fall into Kazuha, who stumbled but miraculously stayed upright.

The room erupted into laughter, and even Chaewon had to bite back a smile. Yunjin, sprawled on the floor, looked up with a sheepish grin. “Okay, so maybe I need to work on my spins.”

Chaewon shook her head, hands on her hips. “You think?”

But even as she scolded her, Chaewon extended a hand to help Yunjin up. “Let’s try again. And this time, focus.”

“Yes, ma’am!” Yunjin saluted dramatically, earning another round of laughter from the group.

After practice, as they packed up to leave, Yunjin sidled up to Chaewon with a sly grin. “You know, you’d miss me if I wasn’t around to mess things up.”

Chaewon raised an eyebrow. “Would I?”

“You would,” Yunjin said confidently. “Who else would keep you on your toes? You’d get bored without me.”

Chaewon sighed but couldn’t suppress the small smile tugging at her lips. “Fine, maybe a little. But don’t let it go to your head.”

“Too late!” Yunjin chirped, skipping ahead to catch up with the others.

Chaewon watched her go, shaking her head. Yunjin was chaos incarnate, but she was also a vital part of what made their group feel like home. And as much as Chaewon hated to admit it, Yunjin was right—things wouldn’t be the same without her.

-----

Kazuha

If Yunjin was a whirlwind, Kazuha was the calm after the storm—a steady and composed presence that Chaewon often found herself relying on more than she realized. The ballerina-turned-idol possessed an effortless elegance that contrasted with Chaewon’s more intense energy, and their dynamic had a certain balance that was hard to put into words.

It was late one evening when Chaewon walked into the dorm’s living room, finding Kazuha sitting cross-legged on the floor with a book in her lap. A pair of earphones dangled around her neck, and her brow furrowed as she studied the pages.

“Kazuha, what are you doing?” Chaewon asked, curious.

Kazuha looked up, her serene expression breaking into a small smile. “Studying Korean idioms. Some of them are so strange.”

Chaewon chuckled, plopping down beside her. “Yeah, idioms can be tricky. Which one is confusing you?”

“This one,” Kazuha said, pointing at the page. “‘Climbing up the stairs backward.’ What does that even mean?”

Chaewon grinned. “It means you’re doing something inefficiently or in a roundabout way.”

Kazuha blinked. “Oh... so, kind of like how Yunjin dances sometimes?”

Chaewon burst out laughing, covering her mouth. “Exactly like that. You’re catching on.”

Moments like these reminded Chaewon of how much Kazuha had grown since joining the group. From her initial shyness to her quiet confidence now, Kazuha was a pillar of strength in her own understated way.

During practice, this became even more apparent. Chaewon was always impressed by Kazuha’s discipline, a trait she carried over from her ballet background. But it wasn’t just her work ethic that stood out—it was her ability to stay calm under pressure, something Chaewon deeply admired.

“Kazuha, can you try that move again? Just a bit sharper this time,” Chaewon said as the group rehearsed.

Kazuha nodded, adjusting her position. She repeated the move with precision, earning a satisfied nod from Chaewon.

“Perfect,” Chaewon said. “You’re always so consistent.”

Kazuha smiled softly. “It’s because you’re a good leader. You give clear instructions.”

Chaewon blinked, caught off guard by the compliment. “Oh… well, thank you. That means a lot.”

It was rare for Kazuha to be so direct with her praise, but when she was, it felt deeply sincere.

Later that night, as the members settled down after practice, Kazuha approached Chaewon with two steaming mugs of tea. “You looked tired, so I made this for you,” she said, handing one to the leader.

Chaewon accepted the mug, her heart warming at the gesture. “Thanks, Zuha. You didn’t have to do this.”

“I wanted to,” Kazuha replied simply, sitting down beside her.

They sipped their tea in comfortable silence, the quiet camaraderie between them speaking volumes.

“You know,” Chaewon said after a moment, “you’re like the glue that holds us together sometimes. Your calmness keeps the rest of us grounded.”

Kazuha tilted her head, a small, thoughtful smile gracing her lips. “And you’re the one who makes us feel safe. You’re our leader.”

Chaewon smiled, her chest tightening with gratitude. Kazuha’s words were few, but they carried so much weight.

“Thank you, Zuha,” Chaewon said softly.

As the two sat together, Chaewon realized that while Kazuha might not be as loud or dramatic as some of the others, her quiet strength was an invaluable part of their group—and Chaewon was endlessly grateful for it.

-----

Eunchae

If Chaewon ever found herself feeling overwhelmed by the pressures of leadership, she knew there was one person who could pull her out of it—Eunchae, the group’s irrepressible ball of energy.

From the moment they’d met, Eunchae had made it her unofficial mission to bring a smile to Chaewon’s face, whether through her endless teasing, playful antics, or dramatic declarations of love.

“Unnie, you’re so serious all the time,” Eunchae whined one morning as Chaewon organized the day’s schedule. “How can you live like that?”

Chaewon glanced up from her notes, unimpressed. “Someone has to be serious, or this group would fall apart.”

Eunchae gasped, clutching her chest as if she’d been mortally wounded. “Are you saying I don’t contribute to the group’s stability?”

“Not in the way you think,” Chaewon deadpanned, but the corners of her mouth twitched upward despite herself.

Eunchae noticed immediately. “Ha! You smiled! I knew I could do it!”

“Don’t get cocky,” Chaewon muttered, trying to hide her amusement.

Their dynamic was a constant push and pull—Eunchae poking and prodding Chaewon’s composed exterior, and Chaewon pretending not to enjoy it. But deep down, Chaewon adored the maknae’s boundless energy and infectious positivity.

During rehearsals, Eunchae’s mischievous streak often made an appearance. One time, as Chaewon was demonstrating a particularly difficult dance move, Eunchae snuck up behind her and mimicked her every motion, exaggerating them for comedic effect.

The room erupted in laughter, and Chaewon spun around, glaring at Eunchae. “Do you want extra practice tonight?” she threatened, though there was no real malice in her voice.

Eunchae grinned, unrepentant. “You’re just mad because I did it better.”

“Better?” Chaewon scoffed, her lips twitching. “You’re lucky I like you.”

“I knew it!” Eunchae crowed, earning another round of laughter from the other members.

Despite her playful nature, Eunchae had a knack for sensing when Chaewon needed a break. One evening, as Chaewon sat in the living room, her shoulders tense from a long day, Eunchae plopped down beside her with a bag of snacks.

“Here,” Eunchae said, holding out a chip. “Eat this. It’s scientifically proven to cure stress.”

Chaewon raised an eyebrow but accepted the chip. “Is that so?”

“Yep,” Eunchae said confidently, munching on one herself. “I read it on the internet. And the internet never lies.”

Chaewon snorted, her tension easing as they shared the snacks.

For all her teasing, Eunchae’s affection for Chaewon was unmistakable. One night, after a particularly grueling day, Eunchae approached Chaewon with uncharacteristic seriousness.

“Unnie,” she said softly, “you’re doing a really good job. I know we don’t say it enough, but we all see how hard you work for us. And we’re really grateful.”

Chaewon blinked, caught off guard by the heartfelt words. “Eunchae…”

“Don’t get used to it,” Eunchae said quickly, her usual playfulness returning. “I still think you’re a boring old lady most of the time.”

Chaewon rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide her smile. “You’re impossible.”

“And you love it,” Eunchae quipped, leaning against Chaewon’s shoulder.

Chaewon sighed, but there was no mistaking the warmth in her voice. “Yeah, I do.”

Moments like these reminded Chaewon that, for all of Eunchae’s teasing, the maknae’s lightheartedness was an essential part of their group’s dynamic—and of Chaewon’s own sanity.

-----

y/n

If Chaewon’s life as a leader could be described as controlled chaos, then y/n was the quiet reprieve she didn’t realize she needed. Where the other members brought challenges, energy, or playfulness, y/n brought balance—a steady presence in the whirlwind of idol life.

From the start, there had been an undeniable connection between them. y/n had joined the group later than the others, but it didn’t take long for her to settle into the dynamic. Chaewon was impressed by how seamlessly y/n adapted, how effortlessly she picked up choreography, and how she never let the pressure rattle her.

“You make it look so easy,” Chaewon had commented one day during practice, watching y/n nail a particularly tricky move.

y/n had laughed, wiping the sweat from her brow. “Trust me, it’s not. I just have a good teacher.”

The compliment caught Chaewon off guard, and she found herself smiling, a faint blush coloring her cheeks.

From that moment, Chaewon began noticing little things about y/n—the way she always made sure everyone had water during rehearsals, the way she seemed to instinctively know when Chaewon needed a break, and the way her laugh could cut through even the most stressful day.

But what really stood out was the way y/n treated her. To the others, Chaewon was their reliable leader, someone to lean on and respect. But y/n treated her as… Chaewon. Just Chaewon.

One evening, after a long day of schedules, Chaewon and y/n found themselves alone in the dorm’s kitchen. Chaewon was mindlessly scrolling through her phone while y/n prepared a late-night snack.

“Want some?” y/n offered, holding out a plate of toast topped with avocado and a sprinkle of chili flakes.

Chaewon hesitated but nodded, accepting a piece. “Thanks.”

y/n grinned. “Careful, it’s spicy.”

Chaewon took a bite, only to immediately start coughing as the heat hit her. y/n burst out laughing, handing her a glass of water.

“You could’ve warned me!” Chaewon choked, glaring at y/n through watery eyes.

“I did!” y/n protested, still laughing. “I said it was spicy!”

Chaewon tried to stay mad but found herself laughing along. “You’re impossible.”

“And yet, you keep me around,” y/n teased, a playful glint in her eye.

It was moments like these that made Chaewon’s feelings for y/n harder to ignore. She wasn’t sure when it started—when the casual glances turned into lingering stares, or when their late-night conversations became the highlight of her day. All she knew was that y/n made her feel seen in a way no one else did.

One night, as they sat on the dorm’s balcony watching the city lights, y/n turned to Chaewon with a soft smile.

“You’ve been quiet tonight,” y/n said, her voice gentle. “What’s on your mind?”

Chaewon hesitated, her fingers fidgeting with the hem of her sweater. “Just… everything. Being a leader, keeping things together. It feels like a lot sometimes.”

y/n reached out, her hand brushing against Chaewon’s. “You don’t have to carry it all alone, you know. We’re here for you. I’m here for you.”

The sincerity in y/n’s voice made Chaewon’s heart flutter. She looked down at their intertwined fingers, her breath hitching.

“y/n,” Chaewon started, her voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t think I say this enough, but… you mean a lot to me.”

y/n’s eyes softened, her grip on Chaewon’s hand tightening slightly. “You mean a lot to me too, Chaewon. More than you probably realize.”

The air between them grew heavy with unspoken words, but Chaewon couldn’t bring herself to look away. Slowly, tentatively, y/n leaned in, her gaze searching hers for permission.

Chaewon’s breath caught, but she didn’t pull away. Instead, she closed the gap, her lips meeting y/n’s in a soft, lingering kiss.

When they finally pulled apart, y/n chuckled, her forehead resting against Chaewon’s. “So… does this mean I’m your favorite member now?”

Chaewon rolled her eyes, but her smile gave her away. “Don’t push your luck.”

y/n grinned, pressing another quick kiss to her cheek. “Worth a shot.”

As they sat there, the city lights twinkling around them, Chaewon realized that, for the first time in a long time, she felt at peace. With y/n by her side, she wasn’t just a leader—she was simply Chaewon.

And that was more than enough.

____________________

Not exactly your house, or parent’s house, but your room felt like a second home to Chaewon. Your room was familiar in so many ways. Repainting the walls together, helping you put up posters and build furniture together, reorganizing jewelry or your closet. There were so many shared memories in this room, so many she felt fond of.

“Do you still listen to these bands?”

Chaewon was staring at the various posters on your wall. Some tour posters, some inclusions from albums.

“Yeah, of course.” You replied.

“They suck.” She scoffed.

“Maybe to you.”

You walked over showing two outfits: one was a short, blue skirt with a cropped raglan top, the other a yellow dress with a demin jacket over it.

 Chaewon pointed to the skirt-shirt combo.

“Thank you.”

You moved closer to your closet to change. You weren’t keen on wearing your university’s colors but being on their cheer team it was mandatory for games and after parties.

“You know you should wear, at least, something of our school colors.” You commented.

“Do I have to?” Chaewon asked, voice sounding comically annoyed.

“No,” You peered your head out to see her, “but it’d make me happy.”

She rolled her eyes before getting up. Already dressed in a gray shirt and black jeans, she looked around your closet for the special blue item she had to wear.

You grabbed at a blue flannel, showing Chaewon, “What about this?”

“It’s not the worst.” She commented, grabbing the flannel to wear.

After dressing and Chaewon helping you pick out jewelry, what minimal you were allowed to wear. You made your way to your car, letting Chaewon connect to the aux before driving off towards the stadium your team was playing at.

Chaewon liked playing her music, adding just a few of your favorite songs to tease you. It felt like a ritual, always preparing game days with her music while just barely letting you hear your own.

Arriving at the stadium, you showed Chaewon where her seats here. Letting her walk around the food stalls and photo booth stations while your team warmed up before the game. You saw her reappear before the game began, when the families and fans would begin sitting in the bleachers waiting for their teams to come out.

It’s not that you needed to watch Chaewon, she was fine doing whatever she wanted, but it was nice seeing her watch you. Like she was a good luck charm or some higher being looking out for you.

As the game started, your team did your usual cheer routine: warming up the crowd, cheering at the team, the occasional acrobatic. Your team would send out half to cheer and dance before switching with the other half. It was exhausting but this let you rest for a good minute.

Chaewon was mostly watching your team perform, she was never a sports fan. Seeing you and your team lift each other, twirl in the air, even just the cheer routines were far more entertaining than the actual game being played.

‘She looks good in blue.’

Chaewon was a little surprised when the thought popped into her mind. Something about you was bright, shining even. The usual bland uniform looked good on you, the way you kicked and moved, always timed perfectly. She could see the ambition in your eyes, even when she was so far away.

She watched you return to your bench, watching the game continue playing. Chaewon never payed attention to these games, looking over at the scoreboard she saw someone was winning. After some more throws, hearing the crowd around her yell and cheer, she thinks it was your team who won.

Everyone standing and cheering, your team moving to do your final cheer formation before heading towards the locker rooms to change.

“Y/n, you’re coming to the after party, right?”

You froze for a second, “I have plans already, sorry.”

“Oh, you and your girlfriend have a date?” another cheerleader teased.

“She’s not my girlfriend,” You stated, “maybe I have something with family.”

“You never have something with your family.”

You finished changing, walking out towards the bleachers to find Chaewon. Waving to her, you both walked around, spotting any booth or spot you wanted to see before driving off. Your usual routine was to go to some fast food place and eat in an empty parking lot. You found the perfect spot, parking and relaxing in the car.

“You look good in blue.” You said, looking over at Chaewon.

“Huh?”

Chaewon looked flustered.

“Are you okay? You’re all flushed.”

“Y-yeah, I’m fine, I-”

You stared at her curiously.

“It just feels stuffy.”

“It’s stuffy?”

Chaewon shifted, “A little.”

You both left the car, opting for the cooler air outside. It was a little windy, making the air feel fresher than usual. You both walked towards your trunk, leaning against the truck as you were confused at her sudden change in demeanor.

That usual awkwardness that crept between you was even stronger now. Something shifting in your relationship and it made you a little scared. You wonder if she’s picked up on your changing feelings.

“Chae.”

Chaewon turned to you, she looked flushed, nervous, eyes darting around your face.

‘Now or never.’ You thought.

You leaned closer, “Can I kiss you?”

“Huh?”

“We don’t have to,” You tried to laugh it off, “just thought I’d ask.”

“Y/n.”

You turned to her, seeing her turn more nervous, eyes darting around as she breathed.

“No one’s around,” She breathed in deeply, “if you wanted to.”

‘Woah.’

You leaned in, pressing a chaste kiss into her lips. Her hands grabbed onto your arms, holding you close to her as she pulled you in for another kiss. You pulled away, staring at each other, wondering if the other could hear the bold heartbeat in your chest.

Chaewon pulled you into another kiss, holding you there as she leaned against the car. You could feel your teeth clash against her lips, bruising each other as you felt the heat and swelling around your lips.

You tilted your head as you both moved into a rhythm. You kissed and bit lightly on her bottom lip, pulling away as you opened your eyes to see her flushed cheeks.

“I think I’m in love with you.” You confess.

Chaewon stared at you, “I think I am, too.”

You laughed, pulling her into a hug. Your head tucked into her neck, rocking her from side to side before laying a kiss onto her cheek.

“How long?”

“Huh?” She asked.

“How long have you felt it?”

“A while.” She said sheepishly.

You smiled, leaning in to kiss her more. You peppered her face, her chin, cheeks, along her nose.

“You’ve thought about kissing me.” You teased.

“Obviously you have, too.” She laughed.

“Of course I have! Look at your lame face.” You squished her cheeks, “Can I kiss you more?”

“Sure you can.” Chaewon looked away, furrowing her brows in embarrassment.

You pulled her in, pressing your chest into hers as you felt how harsh your heartbeat was, or maybe it was hers. You licked across her bottom lip, feeling her hands hold onto your neck. You felt her lips part as you licked across her tongue, moaning against her as you leaned further onto your car.

Chaewon pulled off, “Are we still friends?”

“Can we be girlfriends?” You asked.

“I’d like to be girlfriends.”

she's not afraid to use her puppy-like charms on you, and you, being the absolutely whipped person that you are, fall for it every time.

"Babe, can you help me fold laundry?" "Honey, I could use a hand with dishes..." and you're right there, helping her out as much as you can.

Chaewon says silly things to either confuse, annoy, and/or amuse you

"Would you love me if I was a pineapple?" And you're absolutely perplexed on why she's asking you that, but you still tell her that you love her, no matter what form she takes ❤️

she gets so angry during team games if her teammate(s) are messing up - you are no exception, but a quick kiss to her cheek distracts her from the game for a bit

It doesn't help that you think that she's adorable when she's mad, which helps to calm her down since she's too busy being flustered

speaking of flirting, she definitely is the type to flirt with you first and then get extremely flustered when you flirt back with her

she'll send you a wink with a flirty comment and then be shocked when you flirt back with her - Chaewon either covers her face with her hands, or lightly smacks your shoulder, depending on the situation

gives the best backhugs and will cling to you for hours if you'll let her

“oh yeah it is.” she caught up to you with sakura on her side. the older took the nameplate and a hand emerged between the fluff which startled chaewon causing her to move back into you.

you stumbled backwards only tripping a little onto the doorway. you saw the ghost coming out from under the table and giggled at eunchae’s reaction. you laughed louder when yunjin pretended to hit it.

“yah stop laughing!” chaewon who was hiding behind you smacked your back. you pointed at yunjin still laughing at her.

𓇼

“there’s mannequins in there.”

“someone is in there”

“ill go first then. ill pray before i go in” said you whilst they were discussing. they giggled at your suggestion, but the laughter ceased when yunjin let out a scream, startling chaewon, who clung to you as you stumbled, trapping her against the wall. her head was nuzzled into your neck. (this clip made onto alot of ship edits)

“why why why why” said kazuha

“ah stop it!” shouted chaewon with her face burried in her hands leaning onto you.

“it was looking at me” yunjin looked up with her gleaming eyes. you awed at her reaction and patted her head.

“what are you shouting at!” said chaewon

“it looked at me! someones trying to open the door!”

“what are you talking about!”

you came to the rescue beside yunjin and patted her back. you tried to calm her down. “unnie you’re scaring them. later we’ll check it out together okay?” you rubbed her back softly while whispering in her ear. she seemed to calm down and hugged you before moving onto the next room.

𓇼

“i did this once already so you guys do it.”

said sakura as she sat down on the couch. you cursed under your breath as you took a step forward infront of eunchae. she held onto your shirt. “unnie you can do this.” she said looking up at you with a smile.

you were hesitating as everyone was getting ready for the ghost to come out. “yah how about we sing a song”

"ni, just keep quiet," you scolded, pointing a look at yunjin. "sorry, unnie, you're being too loud," you apologized to the older girl as she giggled at you. “but i think it’s gonna come out if we take it-“ kazuha didnt get to finish her sentence when the ghost came out from under the black cloak as chaos ensued.

you took a step back as kazuha ran away and sakura falling onto the couch. the ghost was taken aback by kazuha’s loud scream. you started laughing when she (the ghost) froze infront of you. you bowed “sorry. please give it to us.” she took of the name plate with your help.

leading infront of chaewon, you heard screams from behind. you turned back and saw kazuha running out the room and chaewon hugging the ghost. you couldn’t stop laughing at the scene of chaewon thanking the ghost. she turned back to you and held onto your hand that you took out for her to hold onto.

“we’re all humans. she’s pretty”

chuckling, you nodded at chaewon’s defense, guiding her back to the other members.

𓇼

“what if it comes out the cabinet?”

“ill go with kkura unnie” you held onto the olders hand. when you made a move with sakura yunjin also followed with her almost cursing. you giggled because she was so loud. the other set of members were still at the door laughing at yunjin.

“why aren’t you coming!” yelled sakura. chaewon started breathing deeply to get ready. “y/n could you bring us there?” said eunchae from behind chaewon. you were looking into the other room when she said that. shocked whilst turning back at her. yunjin smacked your back while laughing.

“go get them” she grinned at you. your shoulders deflated as you reluctantly ran back to them. pretending to not be scared of the cabinet. you huddled the three of them. “im going to block the locker and all of you are going to run okay?” your whispered.

they nodded. “1…. 2…3!” you used all your strength to hug the cabinet close as they ran past. after you made sure all of them got through. you backed away from the cabinet. its didnt open. you tried opening it but it’s locked.

you sighed and the other members just laughed at their stupidity. thinking something was going to come out of the locker. they were too paranoid.

𓇼

“ah there’s someone on the chair.” said sakura. all the members went in one by one. trying to get up the stairs until the ghost made a move toward you, prompting a scream. sheilding eunchae and kazuha, who was behind you “ah! go back!” the ghost went back to her rocking chair.

whilst you turned around making sure eunchae was okay. you went to take kazuha’s hand when the ghost came back and both of the maknaez just ran up the stairs leaving you with the ghost. “wah this is crazy. they left me.” both you and the ghost looked up the stairs at your members. this being a comical scene for them as they’re laughing at you and the ghost.

you turned back to the ghost. opening your arms for a hug. “you did a great job” you said as you patted their back and joined your members up the stairs.