7:30AM

He was highly annoyed at the time he read. Mainly because today was his off day and while his alarm was still set, he could easily just hit snooze or turn it off and spend the morning sleeping in. He hadn’t realized how his body had already been trained to wake up early thanks to his current school semester. 8:30 AM classes all week; Psychology and Biology. At least his math class was online, because if he honestly had to take a math class so early in the morning, he would probably quit school altogether. Of course that would be the end of his life. Baekhyun shuddered at the thought of the two hour lecture he would receive from his parents, that were paying for his schooling through their life’s savings. Of which Baekhyun already felt guilty for using and was doing his best to pay back the money through the small part time jobs he could get. 

A groan left him as he pushed himself up to sit in bed. One, slim hand pressed against the left side of his head, trying to calm the throbbing of the headache already forming. Today was not going to be a good day, he could already tell. With a grunt, he pushed away his covers and got out of bed, and like he did every morning, he made his way to the window and pushed open the curtains, letting the sunlight flood his aesthetically pleasing white room. The brightness blinded his eyes, however, and he closed them tightly, waiting only a few short moments before opening them once more, allowing them to get used to the new light. On the third floor of his apartment building, Baekhyun’s bedroom window overlooked the horizon to the east, facing the mountains in the very far off distance. It was always a gorgeous and breathtaking sight and he could never get over the beauty, even though he has seen the same sight for the past two years. 

Following his regular routine, Baekhyun unlocked his window and began to push it up. He stopped though, when a rose caught his attention. It was just laying there, on his windowsill, as if it had always been there, like that was home. Though Baekhyun was 100% sure that the plant had not been there the night before. But what was really odd (besides the fact that there was a rose on his windowsill on the third story of a building) was that it was green. And not like an icky light green, or a puke green, or even a neon green. But a beautiful dark green. It was a color that Baekhyun had never seen before, but he truly loved it. With a slight smile, he pushed his window all the way up and locked it into position, letting in the fresh, outside air. He grabbed the rose with delicate, long fingers, cradling it in his hands as he examined it. It was pure green. There was no hint of another color inside it, as if it had been dyed. It was all green...all natural.

Or was it? Could a green rose be natural if one had never actually been seen before? Then again, maybe it was just an undiscovered species of rose. Of course that also brought up the question of how it got there. Many outrageous ideas ran through his mind. Like maybe scaling the building to set the rose there. Or maybe a magical being hovered in the air to plant the rose there? Or maybe, and this was the scariest idea, someone snuck into his apartment while he was asleep and left the rose there. That seemed more like a plausible idea though, as terrifying as it was. Baekhyun knew he could be a very heavy sleeper and it was possible for someone to come into his home and he would never know it. 

A cold shiver ran down his back and Baekhyun nearly dropped the rose in his hands.The thought of someone coming in and seeing him in such a vulnerable position was so terrifying he almost didn’t want to keep the rose now. Almost. But despite his better judgment, he scavenged around his apartment until he found a suitable cup he could use as a vase and placed the rose inside, setting it on his desk. It was a pop of color in his nearly all white room. It strangely suited the place and Baekhyun kind of wanted to have more.

Baekhyun got his wish the next morning. Following his normal routine, Baekhyun was greeted with another green rose at his windowsill. It was just as gorgeous as the first and just as mysterious. How did it get there? Why was it there and who put it there? These were the questions that were constantly eating at Baekhyun. Has someone mistaken his apartment for someone else's? He wouldn’t be surprised. He didn’t consider himself anything special. He was just an average college student with an above average talent in singing, but that was about it. He never tried to overachieve, never really tried to be the center of attention (even though he had a loud and outgoing personality). He considered himself normal, lived a normal life. Who would risk their life to leave him a rose on his windowsill? It was quite confusing to him, but somehow he found it strangely endearing. The second rose found a home with the first and Baekhyun went on about his day, going to class and hanging out with his friends. 

When night came, he sat on his bed in his duck pajamas, eyes trained on the window. He wondered if his secret stalker admirer would come again. Would he wake up to find another green rose, or would he be dead? He wasn’t sure and he certainly didn’t like how wild his imagination was running at the moment, but all of them were plausible scenarios. But honestly, what could Baekhyun even do? It could just be a fluke he was getting the roses and eventually the person would realize that he was leaving them at the wrong window (however he was managing to leave them), or maybe he should arm himself with a weapon in case this all was intentional and he really did have a crazy stalker.

That night, Baekhyun went to sleep with a knife tucked under his pillow and a mind filled with worry. Morning came quickly and Baekhyun was pleasantly surprised to find himself still alive. And just like the morning before, there was a single green rose waiting for him on the windowsill. Baekhyun placed the rose with the others and continued about his day. For the next month or so, Baekhyun continued to wake up to a green rose on his windowsill, which he continued to add to his collection. By the 28th rose, Baekhyun was starting to really wonder who was leaving these roses and why. He was pretty sure it was no longer someone sneaking into his apartment to leave the roses. Especially when he made sure to deadbolt the locks every night. One night he even moved his dresser to block the door so no one could and still there was a rose left. It was a mystery to him, a freaky mystery. And to add weirdness to this mystery, Baekhyun also noticed that the roses never died. Sure he filled the vase with water and left the roses near the window for sunlight, but he never did any real tending to them. They should have died, but they didn’t. They were just as bright, perky and alive as they were the first day he found them. It was interesting if not a little creepy. 

Curiosity was finally getting the best of him and Baekhyun decided that this would be the night that he would stay up late. He would wait, in the darkness, by the window to see who was leaving him roses and finally confront him about it. His plan was half decent enough, or at least he thought it was. Surely nothing could possibly go wrong. So that’s what he did. As night fell, Baekhyun turned off his lights in his room and took a seat next to his window. He wanted to be close, but not too close where he could possibly be caught, because that would just ruin it all. If whoever it was saw him before they left the rose, Baekhyun may never actually solve the mystery of the green rose. Resting his head on the wall, waiting as patiently as his patient little butt would allow him, but by two in the morning, he was already falling asleep. With one passing look at the clock, he noted to himself it was only 2:30 in the morning, and slowly darkness enveloped him. 

He was shaken from his sleep by a slight chill. It started on his cheek and slowly traveled downwards, making him shiver slightly. It was pulling him from the warmth of his dreams and as he became aware, he realized it almost felt like wind blowing on him. And while he knew he was at his window, he didn’t remember leaving his window open. So did that mean…?

Eyes snapping open, Baekhyun was greeted with an open window and once more on his windowsill, there was a green rose, laying neatly on top of it. But unlike the other 28 times, this time there was a piece of paper tucked neatly under the rose. With a shaking hand, he reached out and grabbed it carefully. Laying the rose in his lap, he unfolded the paper and read over the few, short words that were written.

‘We’ll meet soon, Baekhyun.’

Baekhyun’s eyes slowly moved back to the window, staring out into the dark of the night, skies only illuminated by the artificial light of the street lamps below. Indeed, there was someone who was really leaving him these roses every night. Someone who knew how to scale a building up 3 stories without being seen or heard. A person who knew his name, yet he was almost sure he had never met this person before. The stalker idea came back full force, but once more his rational side wasn’t fully convinced. Wouldn’t this person have already tried to be with him or kill him or done something more than just leave roses? Didn’t stalkers usually want their victims to know who they were and why they were stalking them? This honestly didn’t make any sense to Baekhyun.

It just continued to leave him confused. He let out a tired sigh and slowly stood, the rose tumbling to the floor. He stared at it for a moment, not really seeing it, but just staring. His mind went blank, as if in a trance, but as quickly as it started, it stopped and he snapped out of it. Shaking his head, he bent down and picked up the rose, holding it in his left hand while he closed the window and locked it once more with his right hand. He made his way to his desk and placed the rose in his makeshift vase of a cup with the other roses before shuffling his way to the bed. Crawling in, he slipped under his covers and curled himself up into a ball and laid there, letting sleep once more overcome him.

The following night, Baekhyun was determined to stay awake and meet this mysterious man. So instead of going to class that day he stayed at home and slept for as long as he could, which was only until the late afternoon. However, armed with the most sugary drink he could find, he set himself up once more by the window and stared out into the darkness. He made it till about one in the morning before his eyes started growing heavy once again. He tried to keep himself awake with more sugar (candy and soda), but he couldn't feel their effects like he had at the beginning. He struggled for nearly an hour to keep his eyes open, but eventually he succumbed to sleep, eyes closing with one last blurry look to the window. He wasn't sure how long he had been asleep or what actually woke him back up, but something did. Sleepy eyes opened and he looked around confused for a moment before he realized what was happening in front of his face. 

The window was opening. And it took all of his strength not to just jump up right then and there and see what was going on. Baekhyun realized that his nightly visitor wasn’t aware that he was awake yet, so Baekhyun was going to sit there and wait, at least until the window was fully open. It was an agonizing three seconds but the window was eventually open and Baekhyun saw the hand reaching through, green rose clutched into thick fingers. It was a quick movement, Baekhyun wasn’t even aware that he thought it, but he grabbed the wrist and pulled. The green rose fell from his fingers, a head coming through his open window and he was greeted to the site of the most handsome man he had ever seen. He was in shock and awe that this man was the one who was leaving roses on his windowsill. Speaking of which….

Baekhyun stood and moved closer, trying to see what the other was standing on in order to get to his third story window, but saw nothing. Nothing but just this man. How was that even possible? A deep chuckle left his visitor and Baekhyun found his hand removed from the other’s wrist. “Seems we finally meet.” His voice was so deep, it sent shivers down Baekhyun’s spine. “But unfortunately I can’t stay to chat. Maybe another time.” The male ducked back out of his window and Baekhyun gasped, rushing forward, hands pressed on his windowsill.

“Wait!” he called, but there was no one there. No sound. Nothing. It was like the man had never been there. His nameless visitor had appeared and like a ghost, had disappeared into the dark of night, leaving more questions than answers in his wake. He was handsome, with beautifully thick fingers. His voice was deep, almost melodic and Baekhyun was craving to hear more. 

 “I don’t even know your name.” The words barely passed his lips before he heard a whisper, from the familiar voice and for some reason it gave him a sense of hope. Hope this wouldn’t be the last time they would meet and like promised, next time, they could do more than just stare at each other.

The aftereffects of your sexy video call with Baekhyun had left you in about as much of a state as you had ever felt yourself in before. 

 Perhaps your decision to hold off on the easy and quick gratification; to let it go for now and focus on making yourself look beautiful for the evening instead, perhaps that had been a mistake. Your goal, of course, when you pulled yourself up from that bed and forced your body to move back into that bathroom so you could clean yourself up a bit, apply another coat of that lovely scented lotion to your already oversaturated skin, the only goal floating inside your fuzzy mind, was perhaps a little bit rooted somewhere in the realms of revenge. 

 It wasn’t that you were mad. 

 You were just wound up. In an if-I-don’t-get-dicked-down-soon sort of way. You were frustrated. Your skin was sticky-hot to the touch despite the air conditioner in your apartment blasting a frigid temperature over your head and you were certain that if this had been a cartoon, animated heat waves would be visible rising up from the top of your head. 

 This wouldn’t do. You needed to cool off before you slipped on the very expensive and luxurious dress that hung on your closet door; watching you and no doubt judging you for this obviously pitiful display of human malfunction. The garment made of sheer tulle and high-end silky lace with hand-stitched sterling embroidery wouldn’t be caught dead desperately chugging ice water and then sticking it’s entire head into the open freezer door when the ice didn’t cool it down fast enough. 

 You had to just use this. This mood that persisted would have to fuel your every move. 

 You were going to get ready. You would put that dress on and its silky fingers would caress every inch of your hot skin as you slid into place inside of it and it cradled your curves and your bones in its beauty and you would show him and everyone at that party exactly what a truly beautiful and desirable woman could look like. 

 You were just going to have to kill him.

 You’d called ahead for the car. One of the perks of living in this particular apartment high-rise was the car service offered at an insanely expensive, completely unreasonable price. You’d only ever seen Baekhyun use it a handful of times, opting instead to drive his own car most of the time. Tonight was different. Tonight was special and you couldn’t quite see yourself stepping out of a plain old taxi cab onto the steps of the party venue, a luxurious five-star hotel in the heart of Seoul, wearing a dress of this caliber and gussied up in such a way. A taxi? No way.

 No, tonight required an exit from the backseat of a large and mysterious black sedan with blacked-out windows and a personal crisp-suit clad driver who called you ‘Miss’ and when you smiled into your response to his inquiry about where you were headed tonight, he actually stuttered a little bit and turned pink in the cheeks. 

 He was young and adorable and seemed to be hesitant to make eye contact with you in the rearview mirror at the red lights even as you asked him casual questions about how long he’d been driving and where he was from. Satisfied with his short responses and finding little else to ask the man, you let your mind drift in the back of that car as your eyes raked over your own appearance at this very moment. 

 When you were seated, minimally obscured by sheer red tulle, your smooth bare legs were completely visible up until high up on your thighs where the flesh-colored lace underdress began. The expensive elegant strappy heels, the soft skin of your legs, the perfectly manicured red toenails. Even the way you smelled — clean, tastefully perfumed in a new scent you had picked up at the salon — you had never felt quite this clean in your entire life. All of this effort which had been the source of much exhaustion throughout the day suddenly felt invigorating. 

 You looked good. Better than good, you looked like the kind of expensive that most could only dream about and when you shifted in your seat, uncrossing one leg to switch to the other, pointing your toe inside of your shoe and slipping the sheer dress up higher to expose more of the leg you could see the diamonds around your wrist sparking in the night lights of the city despite the dark tinting in the windows; you could still make out some sparks in those magical stones. 

 Slipping easily into your traveling mind came his face. 

 His slight lips; the softness and pinkness you would see in them. The yielding flesh of his cushy cheek that gave just a little when you pressed your lips against them. The goosebumps that would travel up your spine into the back of your scalp and explode over your crown when you would feel him arrive behind you and slip his long fingers over your shoulder. He would coat you slowly but completely as your back connected with him and his hand would move. Lightly touching and reaching for the space over your voice box; his fingers tripping lower over your sternum and grabbing with a hot palm over your breast, before the heat from his breath preceded the soft wetness of his lips on your neck. The warm exhale through his nose as his lips would open up and teeth would bite down on sensitive skin, pulling the flush of your skin to the surface with the suction of his mouth — it would make you melt; would make you moan; would make you acquiesce. 

 A soft sigh from your own body betrayed you.

 There would be rules tonight. Of course, there would. You wouldn't be allowed to touch him freely; nor he, you.

 So... climbing into his lap and fucking him at the dinner table was obviously off-limits. 

 Would you get to dance with him at least?

Could you even stand that? Being held in an embrace while being denied the satisfaction of and encouraging the drift of his hands or the tense grip of his fingertips into the curve of your ass. 

 The daydream had brought a fresh wave of longing and your flushed skin once again prickled and heated. The warm temperature you felt in your thighs intimated to the much warmer, much more compelling heat that taunted from your inmost hollow. 

 A pointed beep sounded out; an impatient driver in the car directly behind honked their horn and you looked up from your hands running lightly over warm thighs to catch the instant your driver looked away from the image of you in his rearview mirror. The car surged forward through the green light that had grown stale with his preoccupation. 

 The feeling was unmistakable. The way you looked tonight was like a tempting and untouchable work of art. Made to be looked at and desired. Dreamed over perhaps. 

 And untouchable by all except for one. 

 The car came to a stop behind a line of cars all similar in price range and you waited for just a moment for the traffic to move through the large archway of the entrance to the hotel. Your invitation said the party would be held in the grand ballroom and there were crowds of people milling around outside, all flanking a central walkway where the occasional dressed up party guest walked. 

 As your car moved closer, the butterflies inside your stomach began to flutter and rise up when you realized that the twinkle of lights you saw was not some flashy hotel signage but was actually the flashbulbs of cameras going off. 

 You thought for sure the crowds of press and fans would have dissipated by now, but it appeared that a good number still remained, keeping a close eye on arriving guests for any sign of glimpsing a beloved celebrity. 

 The cars were moving and your number was up. There was no turning back now. 

 Your driver was out and you held your clutch tightly in the hand that gripped the tulle of your dress. You inhaled a steadying breath and poised yourself for your exit. 

 Your car door opened. You reached for the extended hand of your driver and placed a heeled foot down on the cobblestone of the hotel’s circle drive. 

 You heard voices and shouts and a murmur of sounds from people who clamored around you and a number of bright flashes illuminated your peripheral vision. 

 You were not deaf, nor were you blind. You understood the questions on their voices. You, a regular girl who just happened to have been thrust into this life. You felt like an alien and a little bit of a fraud. Making them believe that you might be somehow worthy of their cameras, yet what other choice did you have? You had to walk this pathway to enter the venue, there was no side entrance for party guests. 

 The ‘Who is she?' and ‘What agency?’ mingled with their best guesses about who you might be. Even approving comments on your style and a few shouts for you to stop and turn for their photos. You gave a stiff smile and a tiny wave and your diamonds sparkled brightly when their flashes exploded. Despite you being a complete nobody in their world of entertainment, you certainly seemed to fit the look of the kind of VVIP that would attend such an event. Pictures were snapped. Curiosities and questions were left unanswered and as you approached the rows of security at the main entrance, you’d hardly had a chance to pull out the exclusive invitation from your sparkly new Tom Ford sequined evening clutch bag before you were simply ushered through the doorway. 

 Nobody even really looked at it. You nearly paused your steps to make sure they really took notice of the invitation — your right to be here, dammit —you’d gone through the trouble of bringing it along with you. But the velvet ropes had been open for a while already and you ran the risk of blowing your cover completely if you questioned the inviting extended hand of the staff-woman who begged for your movement. 

 “Right this way, Miss. Might I know the name of your party?” 

 She walked along and slightly ahead of you. 

 “Byun,” you said softly with just a little bit of that secret taste in your mouth as you spoke his name. You did not have to say his first name, as he would be the only Byun in attendance. Aside from you, of course. 

 “Ahh, very good. Artists of EXO are seated at the front section of tables on the left side. You will find your place labeled as the guest of the artist. Please let me know if you need anything.” 

 She was bowing at the waist and you nodded your thanks, watching the top of her tightly formed bun of black hair that did not raise back up again. You gathered that she might stay there all night, bent in half like that, if you didn’t move to enter the main ballroom doors that were open in front of you. 

 And you were going to go inside, it was just…

 Well…

 The noises inside were loud, boisterous, clanking of glassware, laughing voices, and modern pop music easily reaching your ears through that open doorway and well…

 It was just so scary now. 

 The enormity of this evening was hitting you hard and fast and you turned to look again at the bowing woman to find that, thank god, she was no longer bent in half but standing with her hands folded neatly over her belly and she merely looked at you with an innocuous smile on her face. 

 “Just in there?” You asked the obvious and she smiled a millimeter wider and nodded her head once. 

 You nodded in response and opened your lips to speak again but swallowed it away quickly.

 A deep breath through closed eyes, just for a little more oxygen. A little courage. A few more seconds... One...two... 

 On three you lifted your eyelids and your chin. You straightened your shoulders, aligned your spine, called upon every ounce of confidence you had inside of you to flow into your limbs and command your body...

And you walked. 

 It was really just one several thousand dollar foot in front of the other. No big deal.

 But oh… Oh, the brilliance was staggering.

Opulence, all around. From the enormously tall cathedral ceilings to the several, several enormous crystal chandeliers that added to the incredible lighting display of the ballroom. 

 It was too much to take in — the flowers and greenery that seemed to transform the entire place into a glistening botanical indoor garden to the lights that netted over the ceiling, giving the illusion of a starry night sky. And even the tables — the crisp white linens covering expertly decorated table settings that glowed with candlelight arranged around tall centerpieces made of fresh flowers with enough sparkle and glitz to blind you. 

 It was a fairytale. 

 Ultimately it was recognition that eventually pulled you out of your stunned reverie. Standing just a few feet away from you, holding a glass of champagne and covering her mouth as she laughed at something was, the queen of Kpop, BoA. You felt stunned and star-struck at the same time. She was so much smaller in person than on TV. Even with the tall heels she wore. She was just tiny. And so beautiful

 Oh right, more than just seeing your dear sweet husband who you loved and missed dearly, you would also be right in the middle of this enormous SM Entertainment branded party. Most of the faces you saw were somewhat recognizable to you. And more than just floored that these talented and amazing people were actually real, you were flabbergasted with just how incredibly beautiful they all looked. As if SM itself had the secrets to the fountain of youth and slathered all of their artists with it upon entry into the company. 

 Or perhaps it was just the money that did it. 

 You lifted a palm to rest over your cheek, having seen an image of a glamorous woman in the mirrors that lined the walls near the entrance of the ballroom and realizing that she looked a lot like you. Only it felt impossible that you could compete with the beauty you saw in the faces of the beautiful people all around you. 

 But was it possible? Did you also carry yourself with the same confidence and poise? 

 Should there be any reason why you couldn’t? 

 You were certainly dressed the part. You were successful and intelligent; even without the millionaire husband. You could hold your own in the busy hectic emergency room at the hospital and soon you would be finished with your internship and would be hired full time at the same hospital if you wanted. 

 Hell, you might even skip the ER and make the move to specialize in the ever lucrative field of plastic surgery. You were practically overflowing with potential and there was no reason why you had to feel intimidated by that obviously well-off older gentleman who just walked by you wearing an actual smoking jacket and fuzzy Gucci slippers on his feet; looking quite pleased with himself to be out in public wearing a glorified bathrobe and house shoes. 

 You must have looked at him for too long. 

The old man had turned and locked eyes with you for long enough for your gawking to appear purposeful to him and his lips pulled into a wide grin. Directed right at you. Oh no.

 Your mother had always taught you to be polite to elders and on instinct, you smiled softly and gave a single head nod. Something meant to acknowledge but you did not mean to encourage. 

 When his grin changed into a single eyebrow lift and a swift change in his direction of travel, your smile fell. 

 “New girl group?” He was speaking to you now. You hadn’t even walked very far into the party and you were already having this sort of experience. 

 The man did not wait for you to answer, for now, he was really getting a good look at you. His eyes took you in from head to toe and you blanked out your face, lifting your chin and sighing a little loudly as you averted your eyes and relaxed the arm that held up your clutch bag, letting it drop dramatically and swing along your thigh. You felt it coming and you honestly didn’t want to do this. Come on, old man. 

 “Or maybe someone with more connections?” 

 Your sigh was not meant to be rude. You had no intention of being rude to him, but you were quite used to being leered at by creepy men who still had hope inside of them and you were beginning to lose interest in where this was headed. 

 “Let me buy you a drink?” He said while reaching into his jacket for what you hoped wasn’t a wad of cash. 

 It was a business card and you could see the letters C.E.O. Boldly written beside a name and above that, in larger letters, a company that you knew well. In fact, every time you used the refrigerator and microwave at home you saw his company’s name. 

 “Isn’t this an open bar?” You asked out of genuine curiosity as you looked down at the man’s card. 

 The old man’s eyes widened and he threw his head back as he let out a genuine laugh that pulled at the corners of his lips and his eyes. 

 You couldn’t quite grasp what he found so funny about your question. You could clearly see waitresses and waiters carrying trays of various alcoholic drinks all around you and at the bar across the way, beside the walls covered in golden colored heavy drapery, the liquor was flowing freely without so much as a single bill exchanged. 

 It suddenly occurred to you that he probably didn’t mean he wanted to buy you an actual drink right now, but more along the lines of perhaps buying you several of them at a later date at a fancy hotel bar and then a few more up in a penthouse suite room. You had mistakenly taken his pickup line at face value. 

 He took a moment to recover and rubbed at his eyes. “Beautiful and funny — I like you,” he said, “Will you tell me your name.”  The pattern of his speech took on a more direct delivery and while his request sounded, on the outside, like a question, there was little in his delivery that suggested as such. This man was very important, extremely aware of his own importance, and was not used to having to work very hard to get people to do what he wanted. 

 “I’m sorry, Sir, but I need to go. I am meeting someone. Thank you for the...uhh...the card.” 

 You lifted a, hopefully, polite hand as an apology and gave a small smile of faked regret. 

 “Okay, dinner then. Or anything you want. I will spoil you rotten.” He was leering. It was too much and you shook your head again, with your smile slipping away into what you hoped wasn’t too rude of an expression, however persistent he was, you had to admit you felt a bit amused with the man’s attempts. Perhaps this was how he had come to be so successful in his life. He was just charming enough to keep you from getting mad. Still, you had no idea what kind of power this man had and what trouble he could cause if you weren't careful with your rejection. 

 “I hope you have a lovely evening, Mr. Choi,” you said and you watched the moment of realization that flashed over his eyes. His lips pulled into a small pout and he shrugged lightly and dismissively. 

 “Give me a call if he treats you badly,” he said, pointing a finger down at the card you still held between your fingers. You shook your head and tried your best to hand it back to him. Somehow not wanting to keep this, for fear that such an act might actually be an inappropriate thing to do. He wouldn’t take it back and you sighed, looking down and wondering where you could put this thing. Did you slip it into your purse? Did you put it in the trash? 

 He was gone by the time you looked up and you walked further into the ballroom, where you began to recognize more and more faces of partygoers. 

 Names were fuzzy. You recognized the faces of group members. NCT there, a few of them at least. Red Velvet was over there. Probably not all of them. OH! A few faces from Super Junior and was that PSY? Your mind was overwhelmed. You made eye contact with Johnny Seo and you quickly looked away from the man. You tried your best to play it cool. No big deal. Just Johnny from NCT. Oh god, he was looking at you. Why was he looking? You were just a nobody. Wow, he was handsome in person.

 You saw his height first and a feeling of relief bubbled up inside your chest to see the wide toothy grin of Park Chanyeol as he talked and laughed with someone shorter whose face was obscured by other guests. But Chanyeol was like a beacon. Like a street sign that directed your travel. You could always see him in the crowd and if you just traveled toward him, you would be sure to find Baekhyun somewhere close by. 

 North Star Park Chanyeol would lead the way. You would follow him to find your love.

 A waitress passed by carrying a tray of champagne glasses and she paused in front of you for a moment to give you a chance to grab one. 

 Your nerves were reaching new heights and you had agreed with yourself to keep it to a 2 drinks per hour limit tonight. It was a party, after all, and you were pretty certain that two would keep you just social enough to be able to handle looking at all of these untouchable people in the face without shrinking into yourself or falling to their feet to worship them. Two drinks as a limit would also keep you from being drunk. You could still control yourself with two drinks. This drink would be your first. You reached for the glass after slipping the C.E.O.’s business card that you, impossibly, still had under your thumb and your bag.

 The champagne was of high quality and went down smoothly. You downed the entirety of the glass before you realized how you must look to the casual observer and you made a quick glance around yourself to survey the situation. 

 You were met with eye contact and a smile. Again, it was Johnny, who seemed to be, beyond all reason, still paying close attention to you despite the small group of people who he stood amongst. Members of his group. A giggling pretty girl touching his arm, begging for his attention. 

 Damn the eye contact and damn the amused smile of that man that watched you. 

 The waitress was back and you placed the empty glass on her tray. 

 It felt like a magnet. The pull to look back at your witness. It was mostly the embarrassment of your awkward moment being caught, but you gave in to the urge too easily and of course, he was still watching you, only this time his smile had changed to a chuckle and a head shake. 

 Now was not the time for shame. You were gorgeous and you were here to have fun. Perhaps to make some new friends too. You grabbed for champaign number two from a tray that walked by and you lifted the glass in his direction with a smile and a lift of your eyebrows. He lifted his own glass into the air and the little exchange pulled the smile to your lips to match his. 

 Maybe you would ask Baekhyun to introduce you later. 

 The groups of people mingling, chatting, and networking grew a bit denser and you wove between the crowds, brushing a bit close behind Oh Sehun who spun around quickly and did a double-take when he realized who you were. He did a wide-eyed full body once over of you and his lips pulled into a friendly smile. 

 “Oh my god, look at you — You look incredible!” He said noisily and his arms wrapped around your shoulders as he leaned down to plant a soft kiss against your cheek. Sehun had always been one of your favorites. 

 “It’s so good to see you, Sehun,” you said, and you meant it. While he was a close and reliable friend, his schedule was just as busy as your husband’s and you found that you didn’t get to just sit and chat with him nearly as much as you would have liked. Occasions to see him, such as this, were extremely precious and rare. 

 And while part of you longed to stay here and catch up on all you had missed in the life of the tall dark and handsome man who stood before you also noticed the interesting body language of the girl he had been chatting with and the way she quickly and discreetly pulled her hand away from his forearm, averting her eyes and looking down and away from him in the presence of someone she did not know. 

 You leaned a bit closer to him and glanced pointedly toward the girl; a silent question on the subtle nod of your head. 

 Sehun’s lips parted and he inhaled. A pregnant silence sitting for a moment on his tongue before he leaned down to whisper something into her ear that sent her head shaking back and forth in quiet protest. You heard a soft whine from Sehun in response. 

 “Actually,” Sehun’s voice was very low now and you could see the grin on his lips as he gave actual voice to what was clearly some sort of secret between the two of them. 

 “Sehun,” you heard her voice give out an obvious warning. 

 True to his character though, Sehun didn’t heed the warning.

 He was never one to do the expected and you heard the long sigh of defeat from the girl who now shot daggers up into the side of his face and then quickly looked at you with her eyebrows raised, ready to defend.

 “Actually, this is my gi—” 

 “Actually, I am...part of his security team,” she spoke over him quickly and the conviction in her voice wavered some when he looked down at her with disbelief written all over his face. You heard another whine, this time much stronger and he reached for her fingertips, gripping her hand to swing it back and forth. 

 “But you said—” 

 “I said I would think about it, Oh Sehun—you can‘t always just do whatever you want.” 

 There was obviously something vitally important happening between these two and you waved a quick hand and gave a sheepish smile to Sehun as you made your way away from the bickering couple, suddenly invigorated by seeing more and more people who were closely connected to Baekhyun; he had to be close by. 

 There were just so many people. 

 Your eyes searched every face and when a laughing woman tipped her head back with a particularly violent burst of amusement you caught a glimpse of light pink hair just behind her. Your heart leaped.

 And when that woman moved you saw broad shoulders filling out a crisp black tailored suit jacket. You saw the outline of his strong back. The instantly recognizable shape of his hips filling the same black slacks you’d seen him zipping up a little over an hour earlier. 

 He turned his head to the right and when you caught a glimpse of his beautiful profile the impact of it was significant — pink lips, pointed chin and all; he was smiling wide; breathtakingly brilliant. His straight white teeth, his beautiful neck— Baekhyun was talking to someone, and she was leaning in, laughing easily at his jokes and her fingertips reached for him, intending to lightly brush over the smooth crisp fabric of the suit, right over his firm chest.

 The instant she reached you saw him move, his balance shifted and he leaned away. Her touch had just missed him. It was such a subtle gesture that it looked entirely coincidental. Had it not been for the smallest shift in his feet, one might have thought their timing was just a little off. That this man hadn’t intentionally avoided the touch. But you knew him very well and he was always incredibly insightful even down to his body language. 

 The eye contact that she attempted was frantic. You could see it in the way her gaze reached for his eyes. Desperate for any little bit of a connection she could get. 

 But Baekhyun was looking down at his watch and when she gave up and turned to find someone else to flirt with, his eyes left hers and lingered above her head, floating past the many faces of the people around, he seemed to be searching the room for something...for you.

 Looking and looking...

 Your heart rate increased and you gripped the stem of your champagne glass tightly as you downed half of the drink. His search would come to fruition now. He would reach you soon.

 You could practically count it down with each deep breath of oxygen you pulled into your lungs.

 On the third exhale his eyes found yours and the search was over. 

 He had found you.

 Baekhyun’s face held steady for exactly two seconds before you saw the swift rise of his chest and parting of his lips as they hung open in surprise. 

 He took his time with it. 

 Perhaps it only felt longer to you. 

 From your view of him, only a few feet away, you watched the tick of his irises as his eyes traveled from your face, down, with a pause at your neck, another at your chest, then much too slowly down to the floor and then he screwed his eyes shut tightly; overcome for just a moment. 

 His hand reached for the tray that passed by and grabbed a glass of champagne. He held it up, opened his mouth, and tossed the golden liquid back with enough quickness to be able to place the empty glass back on the very same tray before the serving staff moved on. 

 Oh, this wouldn’t work. It had been too long since you’d seen him in person. His skin was clear and lovely. The volume of his cheeks was softer; his cheekbones less angular. Angelic even. His hair had grown some. You’d always been weak to pink. He was looking at you with a building intensity in his eyes and it was smoldering. 

 How would you manage this? 

 He was so beautiful. You found the simplest of things difficult. Breathing in particular — he looked like a fucking prince. How could you get your lungs to work when he was easily the most beautiful man you had ever seen? 

 Like the swing of the compass needle, your entire body was drawn to his magnetic pole and you gave in so easily. 

 You wanted to run. You wanted to throw yourself into his open arms and taste the rough collision of his skin on yours. His muscles and his bones would smash against yours. 

 Instead, you pushed it down. You shoved down hard with every bit of your fortitude and when you found yourself within whispering distance of him you watched the view of his incoming lips until they blurred and vanished and you felt the light brush of those soft lips as he lightly kissed your cheek. 

 It was the same sort of friendly greeting as Sehun had given you mere moments earlier but Baekhyun’s hand lightly trailed along your waist, finding the place where the back of your dress dipped down low and exposed the small of your back. 

 His fingertips lingered there and his touch might as well have been an electric shock. 

 He pulled back but the fire inside his eyes did not lessen. 

 “I thought I was ready,” he said under his breath and he inhaled a deep breath which he exhaled through parted lips. You could smell the sweetness of the champagne on his exhale. 

 “But, what the hell? How can you be this pretty? I need to sit down.” 

 You’d underestimated how badly you would want to touch him. You longed to reach for his hand, slip an arm around his waist. Slide your hand into his suit jacket and slip your fingertips into the waistband of his pants. Tiny things you’d always done very comfortably like a palm on his face, a kiss on his lips, your fingernails raked over the scalp at the back of his head; suddenly completely off-limits to you and you held on to the props that filled your hands for dear life. 

 He had moved to a table and pulled out a chair. He sat down roughly with a groan and his entire body moved with agitation. 

 “Can I sit with you?” You felt so on guard with your actions that you began to second guess every one of your moves before you did it and he was leaning on his elbows with his hands fisted together right in front of his face. 

 “Yeah.”  His answer was short and well controlled. His legs were shaking under the table. 

 His eyes found their way to you and followed as you pulled out the chair beside him. You sat down, finally having somewhere to place the drink and bag you’d clung so tightly to since arriving. 

 “What’s that?” 

 He’d noticed the white business card that sat under your bag and he reached for it with his fingertips. 

 Baekhyun held it up to his face and his eyes were moving over it, eyebrows instantly furrowing together. 

 “Some old man gave me his card when I arrived.” 

 Baekhyun lifted brown eyes up roughly and his lips pulled into a hard line. 

 “Who?” 

 You lifted a single eyebrow and kept the smile free from your lips. 

 Good ol’ Baekhyun. At least he was reliable. 

 “Some eccentric millionaire who wants to be my new sugar daddy.” 

 As soon as you were through the sentence Baekhyun had leaned forward with the card held out between his index and middle finger and he pushed the card through the opening of your champagne glass, fully submerging the paper within the wetness of the alcohol. He left the card there and rose to his feet. 

 “Hey!” You put your best into it; fake-protesting the destruction of such a valuable business card. “But, he said he would spoil me rotten, Baek.”

 He reached down for your hand, gripped tightly around your wrist and pulled you up behind him. 

 “Tell me you want to be spoiled rotten. I dare you to say it.” 

 He had turned to speak to you in a low growl as you followed behind, your arm still held within the grip of his hand and the sensation of this one hand on you was exhilarating. You’d grown so desperate for him to touch you for so long that even this had sent the butterflies in your stomach flying again. 

 He dropped your hand and you looked around to see unfamiliar faces laughing and talking amongst themselves. 

 “Friends, okay? We are just friends to these people. Come. I have to mingle and try to act normal.” 

 For the first hour or so, you felt a bit like a puppy following its master. You didn’t exactly know many people here, apart from EXO members, of which there were several who had greeted you cheerfully. 

 With the new faces, you performed well enough. Smiling and introducing yourself comfortably. You found that most of his friends and acquaintances didn’t question the friendship beyond the initial explanation. By this far into the evening, many of them had already been drinking. What you did notice, was the lingering looks you received from a good number of the men, and at least two eye rolls from some catty women who seemed to take exception with you for existing within their eyesight. 

 It wasn't something you could control, and you didn’t care as much as you thought you might for the scorning looks. Envy was a bitch, but your champagne was tasty, at least. 

 Alcohol was one thing, but your stomach was beginning to crave something else when party guests began to make their way back to their tables for the dinner to begin. 

 There would be speeches and an award presentation for the company during the meal. 

 The food was delicious, albeit a little hard to focus on with Baekhyun sitting beside you, tapping his knee against your knee below the table. 

 When the lights dimmed for a musical presentation you missed the meaning of romantic ballad being belted out because Baekhyun’s hand had reached for yours below the table and he was running slow and deliberate circles into the palm of your hand with a pointed index finger. He used just enough pressure for it not to tickle and when you focused on the shape he was drawing you realized there was a point at the bottom and a dip at the top. A heart. Again and again, a pretty secret etched into your skin with a wandering hand. 

 What you wouldn’t give for just one hour alone with him. 

 The lights remained dim after the performance, and Baekhyun quietly excused himself for the bathroom, leaving you at the table with a fresh glass of cola with a splash of whiskey. 

 A DJ on the stage filled the silence after the applause with high volume, high energy music that blasted through the sound system around the ballroom. 

 People were drinking. The music was too loud for casual conversation, but a lean in, a hand on a shoulder and a few giggles and nods was all it took for people to rise from their seats, finish off the last of whatever drink they had been nursing, and take to the dance floor. 

 The joyous mood was infectious; you loved this song. Your body moved on its own; bobbing your head and drumming your fingers to the beat on the table surface. 

 “You look like you need to be out there dancing with somebody.” 

 The voice came from right behind you and you turned to find the source.

 You’d yet to have an introduction with him and you felt rather starstruck looking at him up close; finding Johnny standing there with a small smile on his face speaking to you about things like dancing and your apparent need for it, stopped your head bobbing and finger tapping and made your jaw drop; the alcohol buzzing inside of you kept you loose enough to keep from jumping up and down and asking for an autograph.

 He was tall. You pushed up from the chair you had been occupying and stumbled just a little to put a bit of space between you both so you could look up at him.

 “Oh, no. I’m very happy with watching.” 

This evening didn’t need to get any more surreal than it already was. 

 “So are you, umm, I noticed you are sitting with Baekhyun—” 

 What exactly was happening right now? It must have been the champagne that made his cheeks look a little flushed and made his voice unsteady. 

 “What about me?” 

 Baekhyun was back. He did say he would only be gone for a moment. 

 “Ahh...Baekhyun,” Johnny spun when you did and the three of you stood like points on a triangle facing each other. “So are you going to introduce me to your girlfriend?”

 Baekhyun’s eyes flashed to you and you looked at him with for guidance here. It felt like a standoff. After all, this was his world and outside of his ridiculous good looks, impressive height, amazing dancing, and smooth rapping in one of your (secretly) favorite K-pop groups ever (a fact you would deny until death), you really didn’t know much else about Johnny. 

 “Actually,” Baekhyun was still looking at you as he spoke and you could hear the clench of his jaw as the words pushed out slowly, no doubt grabbing to hold on to his teeth and the sides of his lips as he forced them out, “we’re just friends.” 

 He reacted strongly the f word. As if he’d just straight up cussed in front of his grandmother. 

 Johnny looked from Baekhyun to you and back again at Baekhyun who actually followed wherever Johnny looked like he was watching a sports match. 

 “Oh,” Johnny said in a bright and chipper tone. 

 “In that case, would you like to dance with me?” 

 He was speaking to you. You had a wide smile on your face. And it was genuine. You couldn’t help it. You had a little shuffle in your shoulders already from the music that played overhead and you looked toward your husband who was looking down at his foot and kicking at the carpet with as subtle of a pout as you had ever seen on him. He looked up into your bright smiling face, not matching your enthusiasm one bit.

 “Do I?” You whispered excitedly and covered a little laugh that escaped. 

 He looked into your excited face and exhaled into an eye roll. 

 “Baekhyun, Oppa!” A high pitched shrill voice pierced your eardrums and popped your happy little bubble with her bouncing up and down inside your line of sight. She was inside of the triangle, uninvited.

 She was like a chihuahua and she obviously believed she was on ‘Oppa’ terms with your dear husband. 

 “Baekhyun, dance with me,” she was whining and pleading and his arm was already being pulled and bounced all over. 

 She, as Baekhyun quickly introduced to you, was Sana and she was a junior at his company who he had been so helpful toward when she was new and still unsure of the ropes. 

 What was immediately evident was that this little girl had a silly little crush and she would have declared her immense gratitude to the man for telling her the time lunch was served or informing her where the bathroom was. It didn’t take much to impress her when Baekhyun was involved. 

 “I guess we’re dancing then,” Baekhyun gave in and Sana squealed not unlike a happy little piglet with a fresh pile of slop. 

 The excitement you felt about getting to dance with one of your favorite idols was just a little bit dimmer as you watched the pair of them hop off to join the crowds on the dance floor and while your expensive heels gave you some height to work with, Johnny was much taller than Baekhyun was and it took you almost the entire first half of the song to find a comfortable rhythm with him. 

 Although with Baekhyun it was never in public, when he pulled you up with both hands from the sofa and made you yelp in surprise laughter with the twirls to the beat of some ridiculous song that caught his ear on the radio, or when the song shifted and his arms wound tighter around your waist and his steps slowed to the romantic ballad that he sang along to in your ear, you never experienced an off step. Not with him. 

 Not like the awkward steps you tried to discreetly correct with Johnny. From where you were on the dance floor, you could see the expert ease with which Baekhyun and Sana danced. They kept a decent distance from each other, and of course, she was smiling and laughing like a maniac. 

 Baekhyun’s focus was light and loose on her. His dancing was effortless and still looked professional. Of course, he was a professional, but they didn’t have to look so damn good together. She was small and pretty, of course. Positively ripe and begging to be tasted. But Baekhyun, no, his focus drifted over to you while he danced. Looking absolutely beautiful and perfect as he moved his body. 

 You, on the other hand, you imagined to the outside observer, might look like one of those inflatable signs they set up outside of businesses. The ones designed to attract attention for being ridiculous with its flailing arms and offbeat torso movements. A calamity in a pretty dress and heels. 

 It definitely wasn’t Johnny’s fault. He was doing great. He was working with what you gave him in downright adorable ways and soon, your missteps turned into smiling and when Johnny let out the first loud laugh after you had stepped on his foot for the third time, you found it difficult to keep up the fragile composure you’d been desperately holding on to. 

 “I’m sorry, I think I might be a very bad dancer,” you laughed and he laughed harder, reaching out to try and connect with you in some other way, with a hand along your waist. You felt the warmth of his fingers along the skin of your lower back and when you actually relaxed and paid closer attention to his touch, you found that if you just let your body listen to what he was telling you with his movements, that it wasn’t so hard to follow him along. You just had to give in to him. 

 “There you go!” He cheered when you’d done something he was pleased with and you held on to his arm and his waist a little bit tighter when he spun you in a dizzying circle, laughing all the while.

 By the end of the song, his warmth was all around you. Never in your wildest fantasies did you imagine that you would have this sort of intimate familiarity with the way Johnny Seo of supergroup NCT smelled after a vigorous round of dancing; with just a light sheen of sweat actually visible on the surface of his skin. 

 Still, the song had finished and you stood completely still, the spell of his arms still around you despite the opening rhythm of the next song beginning to play overhead. 

 Johnny was looking at your face with an unwarranted and serious expression in his eyes with no traces of the lighthearted laughter from before. You were the one to take the first step back from him, breaking the trance he had been under. He let you go, but his hands remained in an embraced position for a good second or two after you were out of them. 

 You straightened your dress some, noticing how the deep plunge of your neckline had slipped and made a bit more of your skin visible, particularly between your breasts. You should have used the double sided tape. At least you had avoided a full flash, but damn this sexy dress didn’t mix very well with dancing. When you pulled your eyes up to the spot where Baekhyun and Sana had been you expected to see them both pulling away from the dance floor and heading toward the tables. 

 What you saw was a single pair of achingly familiar black eyes set on you. 

 He was watching you. Even in the dim lighting, you could see the spot Baekhyun occupied was at least three shades darker than the rest of the room; from the completely obvious storm cloud that sat over his head. 

 How long had he been watching? 

Had he ended his dance with Sana early just so he could stand there and burn in flames as another man danced with you like that? 

Did he see the laughing and the touching too? 

 Would he be consumed by it now? 

 You had to look away. Your skin was buzzing with an electric feeling. You could hardly stand it.

 You quietly thanked Johnny for the dance and excused yourself for the bathrooms and made your way away from the bustle for a moment of peace. 

 A moment of quiet, where those dark eyes could not set you on fire.

 Your respite was short. You returned to the party but lingered on the outskirts. 

 Would Baekhyun be dancing with Sana again? Or someone other pretty young thing? 

 You scanned the crowds, searching for the familiar light cotton candy pink of the top of his head. 

 It was darker in here than it had been when you’d first found him and all of your casual searching came up empty. 

 Until a light touch on the back of your elbow pulled your attention just behind you. 

 “Here you are,” Baekhyun whispered and the sight of his face was instant relief. How did he do that? Just seeing his face in person calmed your soul. Quenched the needs you didn’t even know you were longing for. 

 “Dance with me,” he said. His hand was up, waiting for yours and you gave it. 

 “Will it be okay?” 

 “No,” he mirrored your unease what a confession of his own, “this is definitely going to kill me.”

 At least the song was upbeat. At least the dancing was fast and fun and involved laughter and spinning and cute noises he made with his mouth into your ear as he warned you about the next move. A spin, a dip, and ’one two one one, one two one one, I said one TWO one one, that was my foot, darling,’ At least it was fun enough to distract you from the warmth of his hands as they held onto you. At least the quick movement of your feet kept you from standing too still inside his embrace; from feeling it too much. You had little time to get used to the overwhelmingly wonderful smell of him within his suit jacket if you only got quick short bursts of it.

 And when the song ended and another began he was pulling you again, asking for another dance. Just one more. You could have another dance with this man without it being too dangerous, right? The lights were dim enough, and guests were occupied with their own dance partners. Plus with how much they had all been drinking, surely another dance would raise no alarms. 

 Of course, you gave in. There was no harm in this. When would you ever get another chance? 

 The second song ended too quickly. Upbeat danceable pop songs these days were infuriatingly short in length. They should all be at least a minute longer. At minimum. You released his hands and felt the cool air of the room replace his body heat and you took a step back from him when the next song began. 

 It was a ballad; a slow romantic love song. 

 The opening piano chords played overhead. A glance around you showed couples responding to the song. Some left, some stayed. You were thankful for the darkness around you that obscured their faces well enough to give the scene just a little bit of privacy. 

 You’d been prepared to leave. You’d even pivoted on your heels and began to walk back, back to your table, back to a fresh drink of something cold to battle the heat, back to a reality that did not allow for this sort of grand romantic moment with the man you loved more than anyone else in existence. What you hadn’t let yourself hope for was the way he reached for you with a low hand, and pulled you hard; pulled you back into his arms.

 The force of the way he pulled made you spin in a little teetering circle and you collided with all of the warmth and firmness of his chest. Baekhyun’s arms encircled you, moving down to your waist and the darkness of the dance floor gave you just enough of a cover to hide the intense flush you felt flooding your cheeks. 

 “Baek—” your voice came out in a single whispered breath pushed straight from your lungs. 

 “I need this,” he said through gritted teeth.

 “But, what if...someone—”

 “Fuck them. I need this, right now.” His voice was a low and dangerous whisper against your ear and the music drifted all around, matching the beat he swayed with. 

 He was leading you and you melted into the smell of him, laying your forehead against his shoulder and allowing your air to come from the crook of his neck. 

 And you danced with him. 

 Just as you often daydreamed you might have slow danced with him on your wedding day. Had that day gone differently. 

 As the song played on, you could feel the change in him. The spell was working its magic on the both of you and you gave in to the embrace with a hand slipped inside of his parted jacket. Just to feel his warmth and life easier. You were greedy for him. 

 You wanted to forget who he was and where you were. The softness of his fingers as they ran along the small of your back didn’t help. You were intoxicated by his touch. Was he singing along now? That sweet lullaby in his perfect voice tickled along your eardrums as the darkness around you both enveloped and teased. 

 You had drifted. Quite literally with the dance when you finally pulled your eyelids open you had found that he’d led you toward a quiet corner off the side of the dance floor. Far away from the groups of people that danced, it was much darker here along the wall where the thick golden colored drapery covered whatever color paint the walls might have been before. 

 The netted twinkle lighting that covered the ceiling had no effect here in your dark corner where his arms held you tight and you stood completely still quite deafened by the pounding of your heart inside of your ears. 

 When Baekhyun took another step back you could see that he was about to hit the thick curtains. He would run out of places to retreat. There was only so far into the darkness that he could go before he simply ran out of pathway to travel. 

 The surprise came when he took yet another step and pulled the curtain away from the wall where it hung heavy. He stepped behind it, into the complete and utter blackness behind there and the momentum with which he pulled made you surge forward, toward him, with the quick movement. 

 And every bit of light was gone. The dark was absolute.

 There hadn’t been much light to work with before this, but inside this dark space with one side of you, a wall, the other side the heavy fabric of a curtain and in between you both stood in the space, only enough room to stand and nothing except for the closeness and low and heavy breathing from his lungs you heard and felt along your cheek. 

 “Baekhyun, what are you doing? I can’t see anything” 

 “But you can hear me,” he said against the side of your face. The sound of his voice was incredibly clear in here. The heavy drapes were muting the sounds from the other side. 

 You felt the warmth of his fingertips along your face, running slowly from your jaw line up to your ear and behind. 

 Your breathing felt too fast. You couldn’t see anything, but his warmth was too much.

 “And you can feel me.”

 Without your eyes to tell you he was coming, you had to rely entirely on touch. The sensation of his warm exhale along your jawline where his fingers had been. His hand had moved to behind your neck and you felt the plush softness of his lips traveling lightly along your face. 

 He let out the smallest moan a second before his lips reached yours and his mouth opened over yours, claiming you. He was demanding. The desperation you knew he had felt all night, the same desperation you had felt all night, boiling over now with this single needy and unrelenting kiss. 

 When he pulled away from the kiss it was for a gasp of air and you felt yourself too affected for this to be just one kiss. 

 You reached for him again, a hand wrapping around the back of his neck to pull him down you connected your lips to his once more, reveling in the way he gave in to your kiss so readily. 

 But he pulled away once more; clearly something on his mind to pull his lips away from yours. 

 You wished for some light so you could look into his eyes just once. 

 Why would he steal you away in this secret and dark space only to keep you at this weird arm's length? 

 “Did you have fun?” His question was a dull whisper into the space directly in front of your face. 

 Did he mean the party? 

 “It’s been nice,” you said in a whisper that matched his in volume but not in the strange intensity.

 “Dancing with him?” He breathed out the second half of his question that you had interrupted with your misunderstanding. 

 “I think— I think I must be the more loyal one, between the two of us. I didn’t even touch her once, and yet… he wants to fuck you, you know.” 

 “Baekhyun.” You said in a much more controlled voice. 

 You could hear his rough exhales now. He was losing control of himself. But part of you knew. You’d seen it too; that flash of desire inside of Johnny’s eyes. 

 “He’s not going to get to fuck me. You know that.” 

 You reached for him. Your hands landing somewhere along his stomach and he did not retreat. 

 “You’re his fan.” 

 This wasn’t a question. You heard no traces of doubt in his voice and you were thankful for the darkness now. You had no response. You felt caught off guard by it. 

 “Why so quiet, love. You look at him with the same expression of pure fucking delight that you have when you watch that baking show you love so much. Did you think I wouldn’t notice? Did you honestly believe that it was something you could keep from me?”

 You were stuck; your hands were still touching him, gripping with your fingertips around his shirt. Then he moved and you felt his hand slip over the back of your right hand. He gripped hard and pulled your hand off of him until you released his shirt and relaxed your grip within his hold. 

 “I know you, baby. Did you forget how well I know you? I know you...inside and out.”  

 He rotated your hand, moving it down lower so that your open palm was laid directly over his dick. He was very hard below the slacks. Your mind was swimming and you moved your hand over the bulge that you felt there. The overwhelming effect you had on him. The way he wanted you, just as badly as you wanted him. 

 “I don’t blame him. Or any of them. You—” his voice hitched once when you squeezed over him, slipping a hand up the length of his erection, not finding the end, as it disappeared somewhere behind the waistband of his pants. “—fuck, you…are, the most beautiful woman in this entire place.” 

 “I don’t want any of them, Baek. There’s only one person I want.”

 You reached for the button of his slacks and popped it open, struggling against the pressure from behind. The zipper caught halfway down and you didn’t get to feel the smooth skin of his dick before he was talking again. Before he was wrecking you with the filthy words he whispered into your ear.

 “Did you enjoy wearing my gifts tonight, baby? Did you like being seen in them?”

 You felt the tips of his fingers trailing over the diamond bracelet you wore around your wrist. His head dipped and you heard the sound of his mouth opening as he pulled one of your diamond earrings in between his lips and lightly sucked on it. Letting it go with a gentle pop which he followed with another kiss on your neck, just below your ear. He inhaled to speak again. 

 “I have to confess, I loved seeing you in them. I loved the way they looked at you tonight and thought ‘Ahh...she’s somebody’s. Someone really loves her a lot.’ I want, so badly, for them to know whose wife they are fantasizing about when they think about fucking you.”

 You could only focus on your own breathing. Part of your mind tried to remind yourself that while this darkened curtain gave the illusion of privacy, you should really keep your mind about you. You were in a very public place right now, playing this very dangerous game with this man who had lost every bit of his own self-control. 

 “Because, my sweet, darling girl, that is what they are thinking. When they see you in this dress, that’s what he was thinking. I bet he jerks off tonight dreaming about how good your pussy must feel. But I guarantee, his hand will never compare to you.”

 He surged with motion and spun you by the shoulders and pressed you against the wall. He was at your back and one of his hands reached around, slipping inside of your dress and squeezing and kneading your breast.

 “I know he wants to bend you over, lift up this pretty little skirt and slip his dick inside of you...like only I get to do.” 

 You could not help the way your body responded to him. Your desperation reached new heights as you bent at the waist and pushed your ass toward him. You felt the grind of his dick when he gave you just a little of what you wanted. The words he whispered made you lose your sanity. You felt the fabric of your dress move. You felt the air up high on your thighs. Higher even, he pushed the dress up, baring your ass with his roaming hands. You knew he could only feel with his wandering hands, without any speck of light in here. 

 “Do you want me to do that, baby? Do you want me to fill you up with my cum? Do you want to feel it dripping out of you as you dance with him?”

 “Fu—Baek—” Words malfunctioned. He was too much. Eternally. Without exception. The man was too much. 

 You had worn the lace panties. They helped with your wetness only just, but it was better than nothing. You felt his hands slipping between the lace, landing over your bare skin as he began to pull them down. 

 You felt the slip of fabric and pushed your knees together to aid in their removal. He was low, crouching on his ankles to remove your panties from around the heels you wore and you wondered about the special attention he paid to them. 

 Then the swish of fabric flowed slowly beside your face. Slow enough for the inhale of breath and the scent of your own arousal to tickle your nostrils. Immediately after the fabric left, you heard his deep inhale from behind you, followed by his low appreciative moan. He shifted and you assumed he pocketed them. 

 “I’m keeping these,” he said, “I want you to drip.” 

 There was more movement and you flinched and whimpered when you felt the lightest touch of his fingers between your bare thighs. You were so wet. You were so desperate. 

 Only sounds followed. A zipper pulled and the sibilant sound of fabric, a rustle and then warmth. A hand on your hips, then moving below and your indelicate whimper and then the pressure came. 

 You were so wet there was no resistance as he sunk into you and your lips parted with a hiss as he filled you entirely in one motion. You could not help the short high cry that betrayed you and his hand rose to plant a hot palm firmly over your open mouth. 

 He held you there, thoroughly held in place with two hands, one pressing heavy over your mouth and the other gripping hard into your bare hip and he moved again; fast and rough and you shifted against the wall that had nowhere to hold on. 

 You felt completely had; in that moment, as the small crawl space of darkness grew uncomfortably warm and what precious little fresh oxygen grew sticky and humid, you were consumed. Eaten up. Used by this man in the most satisfying of ways. The rough pounding slapped hard into you and the steady thumping of some dance song just outside of that curtain provided a perverse soundtrack of this forbidden sex. It was raw and it was exhilarating. If only you could get a little more air. Your mind grew dizzy and lightheadedness mingled with the rough pounding against your insides making you shake and tremble as your hands slipped and your legs gave way with the orgasm.

 It swallowed you up so completely you only barely noticed the way he stiffened and trembled behind you. You felt the telltale signs of his climax with the tiny tremors that pulsed with each burst of heat inside of you and when he went still enough to loosen then cover over your mouth you gasped in for the precious air he had deprived you of so completely. 

 You were gasping too hard. This dark damp space was too warm now and the comedown from the high was a slow one. 

 Baekhyun was motionless as he struggled to catch his breath and after a moment you heard his low throaty voice again reach your ear. 

 “This is what is going to happen—”

 Your eyes were closed but you opened them to listen to his words, despite seeing absolutely nothing when you did. 

 “I am going to pull my dick out, and there will be a mess. You see, I’ve been saving myself for you, my love. Nothing, and I do mean absolutely nothing compares to the feeling of filing you up with my cum.” 

 You felt yourself squeeze around him as he spoke. It was involuntary. The effects of him. It was just his power. 

 “Are you listening to me, baby? You feel a little distracted.” 

 He’d felt you, of course.  

 You nodded your head once and exhaled through your parted lips. 

 “I’m listening,” you said. 

 “Good. This is what will happen. I will leave first.” You nodded along as he spoke, trying not to be too distracted by the feeling of his size receding. 

 “And I will go upstairs and book a suite for the night. Now just because I’m leaving early doesn’t mean you can’t have fun, My Baby. I want you to enjoy the rest of the party. I want you to dance some more. With whoever you want to dance with. And I want you to feel me all over your skin as you do that. Can you do that for me?” 

 He’d done it. He’d pulled himself out and you felt the rush of liquid slipping out of your entrance and rushing between your legs, messing up the smooth clean skin of your thighs and lower. You felt a drip sliding down, a crawling sticky thick wet trail that was pulled by gravity. It reached the inside of your knees and when you squeezed them together in some attempt to contain it, the sticky wetness merely spread around. 

 Surely you’d have a mess on the dress. Maybe even trailing down to ankle and dripping over the expensive shoes. 

 He ran a hand then, slipping his long fingers between your thighs directly into the mess, he emerged with a wetness for which he had a purpose. 

 Pinching wet fingers on your exposed nipple, he rubbed until the slick grew tacky. 

 “You’ll join me in my room for the night after you dance. I’ll bring you a key. I might even come down again just to watch you enjoying yourself.” 

 “I...didn’t bring anything else to wear, for tomorrow, Baek.” There was a slight whine to your voice. You heard it and he certainly heard it. 

 Then you heard the smallest chuckle. A laugh from somewhere in the darkness and there were sounds of his zipper. 

 “You are so cute. I’ll buy you something new. Something pretty.”

 A flash of light from the curtain surprised you and you watched the small bit of light seem to swallow up his outline and he was gone.

 You straightened the dress. You counted to 100. You then emerged from the darkness into the dimly lit empty space of this secret corner and you made your way quickly to the bathrooms. 

 You gave yourself a once over in the mirror. Much as you had expected, you looked as if you had been thoroughly fucked in a hot dark hole in the wall and it took a bit of smoothing and straightening for to bring yourself back to a somewhat normal state. 

 While you couldn’t do much about the bright red bruise you saw just behind your earlobe, you managed to at least get your appearance more toward ‘possibly just drunk’ and away from ‘definitely just fucked.’ 

 You did not touch the mess between your legs. The arousal that still pulsed through your veins was fueled even further with each step you took. 

 Out of the bathroom you walked with purpose. The music was pulsing and each heavy beat of the song was another step toward the dance floor and you made eye contact with an achingly familiar face. One that lit up with a bright smile to see you and of course he was so damn willing to dance with you. 

 It was halfway through the dance when you saw a flash of color. A familiar head of cotton candy pink pushed between you and Johnny on the dance floor. 

 His steps did not slow but you felt the hard plastic of something being shoved into the palm of your hand. You looked down instantly.

 A hotel key card, marked with two words that made your lungs inflate and your heart surge inside of your chest. 

 Pent House 

 You didn’t even try to contain the laughter that flew freely from your lips. 

 Byun Baekhyun was, once again, without exception, entirely too much. 

Baekhyun easily twists open the cap and laughs as he hands it back. “Nah, jagiya. You’re just too weak.”

You roll your eyes as you take a swig of your water, feeling instantly refreshed by the cool liquid. 

“Jagiya,” Baekhyun nudges you softly and you hum in response. He taps his cheek and smiles. 

“What?” You ask teasingly and he pouts. 

“Yah! I helped you. At least give me a kiss.” He taps his face again and leans towards you.

You smile to yourself and shake your head before you lean over to peck him on the cheek, but he turns his head and your lips lands on his instead.

“You cheater!” You slap him playfully as he chuckles.

“Aw come on.” He grabs you by the waist and hoist you onto his hips, giving you another kiss on the lips. “Your lips are so soft. I could kiss them all day.”

“No,” you put your hand over your mouth as he tickles you. “Ah, Baekhyun you cheater!”

“Come on, give me one more kiss.” He continues attacking your sides as you try to keep your hand against your mouth. “Come on, jagiya. I know all your weak spots.”

You finally burst out laughing and Baekhyun takes this opportunity to attack your lips. You giggle into his kisses as they start to slow down, his kisses becoming longer and sweeter.

“Oh my gosh, Baekhyun.” You say breathlessly once he finally pulls away. “You’re a cheater.”

“No,” he pecks you again and you playfully groan. “You’re just stubborn. But I’ll still get my kisses.”

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