#fromis_9

Your girlfriend Chaeyoung was stunning. Dating her was a daily lesson in humility. Whenever you went out in public, you could feel the collective “How?” radiating from every person you met. Everyone would look at her like she was royalty and you would look like you were the one who kidnapped her. 

You didn’t blame them. She looked like a runway model even while she slept. The messier she was, the more angelic she felt, and she only needed a little effort to look stunning. 

But for Chaeyoung, her face was also an insecurity. She was convinced that her incapability of looking cute (which wasn’t true) meant that your parents would never take her seriously. 

“They’ll think I’m a rascal,” she’d say, pacing around the apartment. “They will never accept me as your girlfriend. They’ll think I’m just some heartbreaker.”

The anxiety reached an all-time peak in the week leading up to the day she’d meet her parents. By saturday she was an unstable bomb waiting to explode. It was exhausting just watching her. Every time your phone buzzed, she’d rush out convinced it was your mother calling to cancel the day or worse, to interview her over the phone. You tried to soothe her but eventually the sound of her frantic rambling became white noise that lulled you into an accidental nap on her couch.

You had finally awakened from your nap a couple of hours later, thinking she had finally stopped. Stretching your stiff limbs to get rid of the pains of the couch, you got up and looked for some water. You dragged your feet to the kitchen and poured yourself a glass. As you drank, you could hear some rustling from the other side of the hallway. 

It sounded like clothes being thrown and beaten. You took a sip and started walking towards it. There was nobody else in the house but your girlfriend so surely it must have been her.

You stopped dead in front of the room and were left with your eyes wide open. There was a giant mountain of clothes on the ground—shirts, pants, dresses flung everywhere, dangling from the shelves and sliding off the edge of the bed. In fact, it was so full that there wasn’t any more space left on the floor, and some stray garments had found their way onto her head.

“Chaeyoung, what are you doing?” you asked, scanning the room to find stuff everywhere.

Your girlfriend blew a stray lock of hair out of her face and sighed. She slouched against the rolling chair, forgetting it was indeed a rolling chair that… rolls, so it just slid off, and she fell down on her back.

“Argh!” she exclaimed and kicked her legs at the pile of clothes out of pure frustration. “I don’t know what to wear!”

“You’re stressed about tomorrow?”

“Of course! Why would I not be?” she shot back.

“Don’t worry, Chae, just wear whatever,” you said, taking another casual sip of your water.

“Oh, it’s so easy to say for you!” she yelled and got back up. “I’ll see how you’ll act when it’s your time to meet my parents.”

“I will just wear a nice shirt,” you commented dryly, which seemed to upset her even more.

She crossed her arms up, her beautiful eyes narrowing at you. “Okay, I’ll try some stuff, and you tell me how it is. Be honest, alright?”

“Alright,” you agreed.

“Go out, let me change,” she said after getting up and pushing you out.

“It’s not like I can see you under that pile of clothes anyway—” you tried to reason before she closed the door.

You went back to the kitchen to put the glass away and came back to stand in front of the door, pacing around and staring at the wall, listening to the muffled sounds of zippers, frustrated groans and the occasional hanger flying into the wall.

As soon as you caught a glimpse of your girlfriend, air completely fled from your lungs. A floor-length, long-sleeved floral dress draped over her frame. The thin fabric had a pure white glow while the red roses painted it with vivid spots of love.

With her sharp, striking features, the simple dress didn’t look plain at all.

“Uhm,” you started, desperately trying to collect your thoughts. “What are you going for here?”

“Sweet girl next door? I look like I make my own butter, it’s perfect,” Chaeyoung said, brushing some strands of her hair behind her ears, an action that revealed itself to be more lethal than she thought.

“The next door must be heaven, because you look like an angel.” 

She shot you a mean, angry glare, smoothing her dress on her stomach. “It’s no time for jokes!”

She looked down at the white fabric. “Look at it. It’s basically a tent. It has no shape whatsoever.”

“Well, no, you don’t really look like a ‘sweet girl’, to be honest…”

“Wh-why not?” Chaeyoung said worriedly. To prove her point, she did a stiff, awkward twirl, turning her back to you. “It’s just a cylinder.”

As she turned, the supposedly shapeless fabric caught on the curve of her hips. The thin, silky material draped right over the butt, clinging just enough to perfectly accentuate the exact shape of it. She looked like the breathtaking, painfully pretty heroine of a historical drama—specifically designed to ruin men’s lives.

All the teasing died in your throat. You just stood there in the hallway, opening and closing your mouth like a dumb fish out of water.

“It looks conservative,” she continued, looking over her shoulder at you. “Your mom will definitely think I’m—”

Chaeyoung stopped and saw your still expression aimed at her lower half. Her eyes narrowed. She turned around and saw her reflection in the full-length mirror behind her.

“Oh, you must be kidding me,” she groaned. She reached back and desperately tried to puff out the fabric, but as soon as she let go, they settled right back onto her curves. “Why is it doing that?”

“I… uh…” you mumbled.

“Don’t even say it,” she said, raising her index at you.

“It’s not going to work. You’re still way too pretty.”

“Ugh! Okay, let’s do another one.”

She stomped back into the bedroom, slamming the door behind her, leaving you alone in the hallway to recover.

A few minutes later, she stepped out, and your brain entirely short-circuited. You could pretty much hear the cables in your brain frying, sizzling, popping, while smoke poured out of your ears.

She was in a suit. It was a whole look. She was wearing her black stockings that drew attention to the length of her legs, partially covered by a sharp pencil skirt, and ended with a crisp white button-down shirt and a loosely tied necktie.

At this point, you were drooling.

“So?” she asked, putting her hands on her hips and tilting her head.

“I would so fuck the shit out of you.”

“Oh my god!” She threw her hands in the air, causing the tight shirt to pull against her chest. “You can’t stay serious.” 

You were truly, in all honesty and with maximum effort, trying to stay serious. This was your way of remaining grounded and sane. Actually, you were lucky she didn’t put on any makeup because that would have been the end of you. Her face was totally bare, her hair messy from the outfit changes, if she had paired the suit with red lips? Yeah would be on the floor.

“Chae, there’s no way you actually tried with this one. Are you doing it on purpose? Is this a test?”

“What’s so bad?” she whined, stomping her foot, in a strangely cute manner, which only confused your brain more. “I’m trying to look like a banker. So your mom can take me seriously. Do I look serious?”

“You look… you do look serious.” You swallowed hard, your eyes darting down to her stockings and then right back up to her face. “Uhm. Like one of those serious, confident, sexy secretaries who blackmail the CEO.”

“Fuck you. I’m throwing this out.” She grabbed the collar of her shirt, ready to rip it off.

“No, no, no, no, please!” you pleaded, lunging forward with zero dignity and grabbing her hands. “It looks too good! I didn’t even know you had any of this! Please, you have to wear it again for me later! I am literally begging you.”

“Fine! Fine! Get off me, you weirdo!” she huffed. Despite her tone and eye roll, a blush crept up her cheek. She liked the compliment, even if it completely ruined her plan. She placed her hands flat against your chest and shoved you back out into the hallway.

“Sorry,” you stated, going back to your stupid, stiff stance like a dog waiting at the door.

“I can go for something more casual.”

“Sure.”

When the door opened for the third time, she emerged wearing a mustard-yellow cardigan and a matching shell top, buttoned up to her very collarbone. It was paired with a longer skirt, and to tie the whole thing together, she had put on a pair of thick-rimmed reading glasses.

You were already a sucker for girls in glasses, but seeing them on your girlfriend's perfect nose was a lethal combination.

She pushed the frames up her nose. “This way she can think I’m smart, right? I look like a librarian.”

“We’re not getting any reading done with you dressed like that.”

“Gosh, not even this?!” She groaned, dragging a hand down her face. “It’s cute! It’s completely covered up!”

“No, Chae. It’s incredibly hot.”

“I even buttoned it all the way up.”

“You can hide your chest, but you can’t hide those curves,” you say, gesturing to her waist.

“Fuck, I really need to dumb this down.”

She retreated for the fourth time. When she returned, she was wearing a pastel pink polo shirt tucked stiffly into a pair of pleated khaki pants.

“Come on now,” she pleaded, gesturing to herself. “This is the standard suburban mom outfit. Your mom will take one look at me and think I’m the perfect, boring wife.”

“Mom, yeah. Milf, definitely.”

“What!”

“You did not dumb it down. Y-you look like a model from Vogue, where did you even get this?”

“I got it from the thrift shop!” she cried, looking genuinely distressed.

“It must be you then,” you sighed. “You make everything look good.”

“I give up!”

She disappeared into the bedroom one last time. For her final trick, she didn’t even bother with her own clothes. Instead, she chose one of your sweaters that she stole a long time ago. It was an old chunky knit sweater and a perfectly standard pair of blue jeans.

She didn’t try to style it but the sweater naturally draped in a way that was effortlessly chic, showing a hint of her collarbone. The jeans hugged her hips perfectly. She was comfortably, naturally gorgeous. 

Defeated, Chaeyoung gave you a slow, lifeless spin and then slumped sideways against the doorframe, letting her head thunk against the wood.

“This is it. I surrender,” she sighed, her voice small. “This is the most boring clothing in the apartment, and it’s still not enough. Your mom is going to take one look at me and think I’m a rascal who’s going to ruin her son’s life.”

You softened and smiled. You stepped closer, gently reaching out to brush the stressed hair out of her face.

“You look beautiful, Chaeyoung.”

She looked up at you through her eyelashes, her sultry eyes genuinely vulnerable. “But do I look respectable?”

“You look adorable,” you murmured, leaning in to press a soft kiss to her forehead. “Don’t worry so much. Actually, my mom is really into fashion; she’s probably going to love your normal clothes. And besides... You know my dad actively chooses to wear socks with his sandals, right?”

Chaeyoung giggled.

-

You didn’t really get much sleep last night. She kept nervously pacing around your room and asking you endless questions about what your parents liked, what they hated, and what shoes she should wear. 

Eventually, she did run out of energy and went to sleep, cuddled deeply by your side. She looked relaxed and didn’t seem to have any worries left.

You were dead wrong.

It was 5 AM when a sharp noise jolted you awake. You blinked and looked around in the darkness, disoriented. It wasn’t just the noise; you were sure you could smell something burnt in the air. It smelled somewhat like sugar? But there was something off about it. 

You moved your arm to check on her, only to find the sheets cold and her side of the bed completely empty. Mind you, it was a sunday so there was no logical reason for your girlfriend to be up. You cursed under your breath and got up to check what was going on.

You followed the faint glow coming out of the kitchen, with the strong scent. When you turned the corner, you stopped dead in your tracks. You couldn’t believe your eyes. There was flour all smeared across the counters and tables, and even the floor. Tons of used bowls were towering precariously in the sink. They weren’t even scraped clean, some of them had big globs of heavy drooping batter dripping from their sides. 

And standing in the center of the kitchen, was Chaeyoung. 

She was still in her cute pyjama with the bears but was wearing a pink apron. Her hair was lazily tied up in a messy bun, with strands falling into her face, and a streak of flour smeared across her cheekbone. Of course, there was stuff all over her apron as well with mysterious stains and wet spots.

She didn’t notice you. She was standing there, hands on her hips, staring directly into the oven door. 

“Chae?” you asked, groaning, “What are you doing?”

She lightly jumped and squeaked when she heard your voice. She didn’t really expect you to be awake. Her eyes saw you, then darted at her mess and back to you. She straightened her back, trying to look a little more dignified.

“I’m making cookies,” she announced, letting her voice pitch up from the nervous laughter. “Your mom said she loves sweets. And it’s well known that great women can cook. So your mom will think I’m the perfect wife material for her son when she sees what I baked from scratch.”

“You really don’t have to—”

The oven timer interrupted you. Chaeyoung gasped and in a panic, scrambled to get a pair of oven mitts. She yanked the oven door open, releasing a dense cloud of gray smoke. Coughing, she reached into the fog and pulled out the baking sheet.

She slammed the hot metal tray on the stovetop, waving the smoke away with her hand and stepped aside to look at her masterpiece.

It was a total disaster.

Instead of individual cookies, they were half-melted into each other, forming one big mega-cookie. The edges were completely charred while the center was inexplicably pale and shiny. You weren’t sure how that would be possible. There was no physical explanation for what you were saying.

Chaeyoung stared at the pan. Slowly, her shoulders slumped. She buried her face in her hands.

“Look at them,” she whispered. “They’re terrible, just like me.”

“Hey, come on,” you said softly, carefully stepping over a puddle of milk. “They aren’t that bad,” you said and patted her back, kissing the top of her head.

“Your parents will hate me,” she mumbled into her hands. “I can’t even make cookies. I’m a disaster.”

“They are not going to hate you,” you said casually. To prove your point, you reached out and broke off a piece of the cookie slop.

“Don’t eat that,” she warned you, grabbing your wrist. “You’ll die.”

“Nah, it’s fine,” you said with a brave smile, tossing it into your mouth. 

Your teeth crunched through bitter charcoal, followed immediately by the squishy, gooey texture of raw flour and wet egg. You forced a smile, chewing rapidly to make it end, and swallowed hard. You could feel it dragging its way down your throat.

“Mmmh,” you managed to hum, nodding aggressively. “Wow. Incredible. Delicious.”

Chaeyoung looked at you with a deeply unimpressed, cute grumpy face. “You’re lying. You look like you’re in pain.”

“I am,” you admitted, reaching for a glass of water to wash it away. You took a big gulp and finally exhaled when the foreign object was gone. 

You looked back to her and wiped some flour off her face. “But I love that you tried. I know you care a lot.”

“You know what?” you said, squeezing her hand. “Let’s clean this… mess, and we’ll buy something at the bakery. We can just put it in our dish and say you made it.”

Chaeyoung looked up at you, letting a small smile break through her disappointment.

“You’d lie to your mother for me?”

“Of course,” you laughed. “Come here,” you tell her and open your arms.

“You’ll get all dirty, I’m covered in flour.”

“Who cares,” you mumbled as you wrapped Chaeyoung in your cocoon. Your girlfriend closed your eyes and exhaled with a defeated smile. She brought her hands around your back and melted into you. 

It was alright. Chaeyoung could feel it in the way you held her. She didn’t realize how much she missed it until she felt your arms around her and realized how silly it was. 

When you let her go, she couldn’t look you in the eyes.

That was the adorable Chaeng you knew. Even though she looked so cold and confident, she was just a soft girl after all.

“Look at you, you’re all white.”

“Well, we’re a couple, we need matching outfits, don’t we?”

Chaeyoung giggled and shoved you. “You’re so dumb.”

You stepped back, surveying the disaster zone while the mega cookie sat on the stove. “Okay,” you said, rolling up your sleeves, “we should start cleaning.”

Chaeyoung moved toward the sink. “It won’t come off,” she hissed, leaning her weight into the spatula as she tried to pry the charred mass from the tray. A sharp clack echoed through the kitchen as the spatula broke clean. “Fuck it,” she scoffed and threw the remaining piece of the spatula into the sink.

“Come on, get the trash bag. We have to throw it at the waste disposal site. They have to burn it. You never know if it could become sentient.”

She let out a dry, exhausted chuckle and got the flour and trash into the bag. While you scraped and scrubbed, she began wiping down the counters. At one point, she stopped, staring at a particularly stubborn stain.

“I really thought I could do it,” she whispered. “I thought if I could make something nice, your mom would see it and forget that I look like… well, this.”

“A goddess?” I offered, sliding the last of the burnt evidence into the bin.

She shot me a look that was half-pout, half-glare. “A heartbreaker. A rascal. Someone who doesn't know how to take care of her son.”

“Trust me, after they see how I live, they’ll realize you’re the one doing the heavy lifting.”

You got down on your hands and knees, grabbing the floor rag to try to remove the sticky slurry near the baseboards. Looking at it, you probably needed some kind of industrial solvent to really get those out. 

You were still scrubbing the floor with that dirty rug when Chaeyoung found the courage to speak up. She took a deep breath and momentarily put the bowls down. She stared at the reflections in the water, where a thousand distorted versions of her face shimmered in the bubbles.

“Everyone thinks I’m just ‘the pretty girl,” she started. “It was all fun when I was in high school, although boys were too afraid to ask me out. But when I grew up, girls would say all kinds of things.”

“They were jealous?” you said.

“I think so, or they had the wrong idea. It’s not like I was doing anything for attention.”

You put the rag down and sat back, looking back at Chaeyoung. The cheap lighting of the kitchen showed all the rough parts of her. She was tired and dishevelled, but there was a tenderness that you had never felt. An angel was shedding her wings in front of you, molting her white feathers to reveal the skin and bone beneath.

“It must be so nice to have a job where you just have to look nice for cameras all day. That’s what they would say,” Chae sighed. “I had to work really hard to prove I was capable.”

“But you are,” you said. “You’re smart. You’re capable. You’re… incredible, and you know it. People are just judgmental.”

“Even then. It’s like I’m just a trophy. You know my ex?”

You raised an eyebrow. “That guy? What did he do?”

“Well, I kinda told you about it, but I don’t think he really liked me. He would never listen to me. I think he just wanted to boast to his friends about me.”

“Yeah, he was an asshole.”

“I was careful about boys afterwards,” Chaeyoung said and sat down under the sink. She hugged her knees and stared at the floor. “About people, in general.”

You scooted closer to her, sitting with her against the kitchen counters.

“The people that mattered didn’t take me seriously, while random people would always harass me,” she confessed. “It’s like I’m just a face.”

Your right hand slipped on top of hers, and you held it there, so she wouldn’t fly away into her thoughts. Chaeyoung instinctively leaned into your shoulder.

“I always knew you were a great person, Chaeyoung. Since the first time I met you,” you said. “Maybe it was because people projected their own personalities onto you, you did all you could to let people know who you were. You were so caring, so bright, so genuine.”

Chae turned her head to look at you as you talked with shiny eyes.

“More than anyone else, you were just you. You laughed like it was the first time you ever did. You were honest, but always so kind and gentle with everyone.”

You took Chae’s face in your hands and looked straight into her eyes. “You are beautiful. You know it; you were blessed with beauty. But it’s not just on your skin, but rather in your soul. Every day, I can’t think about anyone but you. There’s nothing like the first time I hear your voice, and the day just becomes better. Looking at your beauty is an experience, but living with you gives me purpose.”

Chae started tearing up and sniffling.

“Aww, no, crybaby,” you said and snorted.

She let out a jagged breath, a sob catching in her throat. “Why do you have to say shit like that now?” she hiccuped, her laugh breaking through the tears. “You’re always so dumb.”

“Want me to go back?”

“Shut up or you’ll ruin it,” Chaeyoung hiccuped. “I fucking love you.”

Chae leaned in to kiss you, and you accepted her salty lips. It was the most delicate kiss you ever gave her. She was so fragile right now that you were scared you would hurt her. 

Your girlfriend finally laughed.

“Alright, I feel better now, it will be okay,” Chaeyoung said.

“That’s the spirit, princess,” you said and brought your hand up to pat her head. She closed her eyes and giggled, enjoying your touch.

-

“Let’s get that cake,” Chaeyoung said, pointing at the glass. She was pointing at the lemon chiffon masterpiece topped with gold leaf and spun sugar. There were all sorts of nice drawings made with buttercream, yeah, no way.

“Respectfully, that cake looks a bit too nice, no offense.”

“Offense taken, that’s wildly disrespectful, what are you implying?” she said sternly.

“We don’t want to give her expectations that high, do we?” 

She looked back at the golden cake, then at the rustic strawberry tart in the corner. She let out a long, defeated sigh. “You’re right…”

-

You were finally in front of your parents’ house.

You turned the engine off and were going to leave the car, but Chaeyoung didn’t seem to move. She was in her passenger side with the sun visor flipped down, staring intensely into the small mirror. She flashed a wide, overly enthusiastic, toothy grin. She held it for two seconds before her face fell flat.

“Looks weird,” she muttered to herself. “How does Hayoung do this?”

She took a deep breath, adjusting her sweater, and tried again. This time, she kept her mouth closed, giving the mirror a softer expression. 

“Too formal,” she whispered, sighing heavily.

You leaned across your seat. “Chae, what exactly are you doing?”

“I’m practicing my smile,” she said without breaking eye contact with the mirror. “First impressions are everything, you know? I have to greet them properly.”

“You’re overthinking it,” you chuckled, reaching over to flip the visor back up. She pouted at you. “You don’t need it. You have a great smile. Just be the girl I fell in love with, they’ll love you too.”

“Heh,” she complained, finally clicking her seatbelt open. She glanced down at the bakery box sitting on her lap. “Do you think she’ll know these are from the bakery?”

“Nah, she won’t know. They’re in a plate.” You reached over and gave her a reassuring pat on her shoulder. “It will be fine, I promise.”

“Okay, fine,” she nodded.

You both got out of the car and walked up to the house door. You knocked, and the door quickly swung open. Your mother stood in the doorway, a floral apron tied around her waist and a wooden spoon still clutched in one hand.

She froze.

Her eyes immediately locked onto Chaeyoung. She took in your girlfriend’s perfectly styled hair, her elegant but understated outfit, and the warm, genuinely sweet smile that Chaeyoung managed to produce.

Then, very slowly, your mother's gaze drifted over to you. She looked you up and down, her expression shifting from absolute awe to profound, undisguised confusion.

"Mom?" you prompted, shifting a little awkwardly under her scrutiny. "This is Chaeyoung."

Your mother finally blinked, snapping out of her trance. 

"You’re gorgeous, dear," your mother said to Chaeyoung. “Why on earth would you choose this monkey of my son?”

“Come on, Mom, why would you say that?” you said. “Don’t you love your son?”

“I do love you, son, but compared to her…” she said, turning her head to Chaeyoung and offering her hand.

“I’m pleased to meet you, ma’am.”

“Oh, please call me Mom, you’re part of the family now,” your mom smiled brightly. “Is he treating you right? Do I need to talk to him?”

“No, Mom, he’s treating me really well, don’t worry.”

“See?” you said proudly, “I’m a good boyfriend.”

“I know she’s just being,” she said and stepped to the side, inviting both of you to come inside. 

‘So far so good’, Chaeyoung thought as she stepped into the living room. You quickly went to the kitchen to put the food down while your girlfriend explored the space. To you, it all seemed familiar, but it was all new to her.

Unfortunately for you, the living room was riddled with photos of when you were younger, and your mom was really eager to talk about them.

“How old was he in this photo?” 

“I think he was… 5?” your mom guessed, taking the picture frame from the wall. She handed it to your girlfriend, and the two scanned the embarrassing photo. You were riding around a toy car, and you probably were missing some teeth.

“He used to be really cute when he was little,” your mom said. “Oh, how fast they grow up. Now he’s just a brute.”

“Right!” Chaeyoung exclaimed. “How was he when he was little? Was he extroverted?”

“He kinda was. He used to do everything I told him and made friends pretty easily.”

“What about this one?” Chaeyoung said, pointing at the photo on the chimney frame. 

“Oh, this one.” Your mom took that frame as well and handed it to your girlfriend. You weren’t alone in this picture. There seemed to be a girl right next to you. Judging by how you looked, it must have been around the time you started elementary school. Both of you had missing teeth and had very colorful clothes.

“They’re holding hands,” Chaeyoung mentioned, brushing her index finger on the glass.

“Oh, yeah, that was his first girlfriend. One day, he came home with that girl and said she was the prettiest girl he had ever seen.”

“That must have been fun.”

“No, I was so worried! I had to call her parents and explain why she didn’t come home,” your mom said. “And all of that for him to forget her a couple of days later.”

Chaeyoung and your mom continued to laugh and chat while watching your photos. It wasn’t much later that she decided to pull out the big folder with the child photos of when you were playing with Legos or learning to walk. To hell with not trusting Chae, your mom was telling her all your secrets and dark stories. She didn’t care a single bit.

“Oh, look at this one, Chaeyoung,” your mom cooed, pointing to a Polaroid of you aged four, wearing nothing but a diaper and a colander on your head like a helmet, pointing a wooden spoon at a dog. “He thought he was a knight and refused to take his helmet off for a week.”

Chaeyoung let out a sound that was half-giggle, half-gasp, her eyes darting from the photo to you and back. “That’s so cute.”

“Mom! When will we eat?” you shouted from the kitchen.

“Oh, right!” your mom exclaimed and hurried to put the albums away into the closet. Your girlfriend helped her and then went into the kitchen as well.

Your dad was still under the sink with tools in his hands. He partially slid out to take a look at your girlfriend.

“Oh, Chaeyoung, right?” he asked.

“Ah, yes, sir—dad.”

“Attaboy that’s my son!” he exclaimed, lightly kicking your foot. “Chaeyoung, pass me the flashlight.”

“R-right away!” she stumbled and looked around for the tool.

“It’s on the table.”

“Okay, here.”

“Can you turn it on and hold it there?”

“Of course,” she said and crouched down to help your dad. She turned it on and illuminated the area where he was working. Of course, she had no idea what he trying to see so she did her best.

“Steady on the light, Chae,” your dad grunted as he was trying to turn the joining with his greasy hands.

“Like this?” she asked softly, pointing the beat to his wrench. He kept her there for a couple of minutes as he wrestled under the sink until everything was tight and fixed. Your girlfriend felt a bit disgusted by the dirtiness that was around the area, especially the grey water. But it also meant that your dad didn’t really care about how she looked and it made her feel better.

When he was done, he slipped out on the floor and got up with a heavy grunt. “Leak’s plugged,” he announced, dusting off his knees. 

“Thank you,” he muttered. “My son would have dropped the light in the water, can’t trust him with nothing.”

“I’m right here,” you shouted from the stove.

“So?” he replied and laughed.

With that done, you started to prepare the table outside for lunch. You carried the stack of plates into the dining room. The heavy oak table had already been cleared, its surface reflecting the soft light from the overhead lamp. You laid out the mismatched silverware and a stack of paper napkins while Chaeyoung followed behind, carefully placing the bakery tart in the center.

One by one, the rest of the family filed in, pulling the heavy chairs across the hardwood until everyone was settled in their usual spots.

“My son showed me some of your photos, you really know how to dress, dear,” your Mom commented while getting some food onto her plate.

“He did?!” Chaeyoung exclaimed and elbowed your side. It wasn’t a soft one; she put a hole in your body.

You coughed up some of your food.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” she whispered. “I spent hours getting dress and you already showed her everything?”

“Well, you looked good in everything, I told you.”

Chaeyoung hit you again. “If you told me, I wouldn’t have been so worried. You’re such an idiot.”

“I’m really into fashion, I think we’ll get along,” your Mom said.

“Oh, I see, you read magazines?” Chaeyoung said, putting on a bright, friendly smile like she didn’t just beat you.

“I also watch programs on TV. Oh, Dad here really doesn’t know how to dress, you have to help me.”

“I understand you.”

“Right, like father like son. They both dress terribly.”

“What?” your dad said while munching. “I put on the nicest shirt I had.”

“Yeah, what’s wrong with me?” you said.

“You see what I’ve had to deal with, Chaeyoung?” your mom sighed, gesturing with her wine glass toward the two men at the table.

“He did try,” Chaeyoung admitted. “But apparently, he likes wrinkled clothes. I had to physically take the iron out of the closet myself.”

“You ironed for him?” your mom gasped, placing a hand over her heart. “Oh, darling, don't start that. You'll spoil him.”

The two women kept going back and forth, talking about their interests and commenting on how incompetent their men were at cleaning or dressing well. You two ate quietly, every once in a while talking about sports or just staring at each other.

The day ended with a trunk full of leftovers. As you pulled the car out of the driveway, Chaeyoung leaned her head back against the headrest and let out a long sigh she had been holding the entire time.

"They liked me," she whispered, as if she still couldn't believe it.

"They loved you, Chae. I told you."

"Your mom called you a monkey," she giggled, turning her head to look at you. The streetlights flickered across her face, catching the exhaustion and the lingering glow of success. She reached across to hold your hand.

“And to think you kept me awake just to bake that cookie monster.”

"Shut up," she murmured, closing her eyes. "Just drive, monkey."

THE END

“I was bored,” she chirped, pulling you down the hallway of the convenience store, humming some ridiculous song. “Besides, I wanted to see you.”

It was easy with Jiheon. She made things feel lighter, like gravity wasn’t so heavy around her.

But then—there was Nagyung.

She had arrived without fanfare, standing near the cold drinks section, her arms crossed, her gaze flicking up as Jiheon practically skipped past her. Her short, dark hair framed her sharp eyes, expression unreadable as always.

You didn’t say anything at first, but your heart tugged at the sight of her.

“Didn’t think you’d show up,” you said.

Nagyung raised an eyebrow. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“I don’t know. You always act like you’re too cool for this kind of stuff.”

She scoffed, the corner of her lip tugging upward—not quite a smile. “Someone’s got to keep Jiheon from buying all the sugar in the store.”

Jiheon peeked out from the other aisle, two bags of gummy worms in hand. “Too late!”

Nagyung rolled her eyes but let out a soft laugh. The kind she only ever did when Jiheon wasn’t looking. Or when she thought you weren’t looking.

You noticed, though. You always noticed Nagyung’s silences, the way her hand would linger too long near yours but never quite touch it. The way she always walked just a little behind, letting Jiheon be the one beside you.

You wondered if she knew how often you looked for her in crowded rooms, or how your heartbeat felt weirdly guilty every time Jiheon leaned her head on your shoulder.

Jiheon was like the sun—blinding, warm, impossible to ignore.

Nagyung was the rain—quiet, cold at first, but deeply comforting when it lingered.

Later that night, the three of you sat on a rooftop. Jiheon laid down, using your lap as a pillow, her eyes closed as she talked about everything and nothing at once.

You glanced up—and there she was.

Nagyung sat a few feet away, chin resting on her knees, gaze lost in the stars. The wind ruffled her hair, and for once, she wasn’t guarding her expression.

There was something sad in the way she looked at Jiheon. No—at you.

Like she was giving something up without even saying a word.

You leaned toward her, voice barely a whisper. “You okay?”

She flinched slightly, then nodded, still not looking at you.

“Yeah… I’m just tired.”

You knew that wasn’t it.

But you didn’t push.

And she didn’t explain.

Because maybe that’s how it was always going to be—with Jiheon in your arms, and Nagyung quietly turning away from the warmth she never thought she deserved.

The days started blending into each other after that night on the rooftop.

You didn’t realize how much of your life had started orbiting around the two of them—Jiheon’s laughter and Nagyung’s silence.

They were your constants, even if they didn’t know it.

It was a Thursday afternoon, just after a heavy summer rain. Jiheon had insisted on dragging you to the arcade near the station.

“I swear,” she huffed, holding a claw machine joystick like it was life or death, “these machines are rigged.”

“You’ve said that five times now,” you deadpanned, watching the claw drop helplessly over a stuffed penguin before sliding back up, empty.

She groaned, pressing her forehead against the glass. “I need this penguin, Y/n. It looks like you when you pout.”

“I don’t pout.”

“Totally do.”

You laughed under your breath, but your eyes drifted toward the entrance, half-hoping—and there she was.

Nagyung stood at the door, her hair damp from the rain, strands clinging to her neck. She wore that usual oversized black hoodie and cargo pants, like she didn’t care about the world’s opinion. But she still turned heads.

Especially yours.

She caught you looking, gave a nod—barely noticeable—but her eyes held something softer than usual. Like she wanted to say hi, but didn’t know how to in front of Jiheon.

Jiheon turned just as Nagyung approached.

“Noona! You came!”

Nagyung forced a smile and rubbed the back of her neck. “Someone had to make sure you didn’t burn the place down.”

“Please. I’m the safest chaos you’ll ever meet,” Jiheon giggled, then nudged your arm. “Right, Y/n?”

You nodded, half-distracted by Nagyung’s presence.

The three of you ended up in a photo booth, Jiheon in the middle, forcing peace signs and funny faces. Nagyung stood stiff beside you, her expression unreadable as Jiheon leaned into you, her cheek brushing yours.

You swore you felt Nagyung flinch.

The flash went off.

And that was the first photo that captured your guilt.

Later, as Jiheon dashed off to get ice cream, you found yourself alone with Nagyung on the bench outside. The rain had stopped, but the clouds lingered, casting the world in soft gray.

She sat next to you, arms crossed, looking straight ahead.

“You don’t like those photos, do you?” you asked, voice low.

She didn’t answer right away. Then:

“It’s not the photos.”

You turned to her. “Then what?”

She finally met your eyes.

“I’m… just used to being the one on the side, I guess.”

You swallowed hard. “You’re not.”

She gave a dry laugh. “Y/n, don’t.”

“Don’t what?”

“Don’t say things that make me think you see me that way.”

Her voice cracked slightly, and she quickly looked away, blinking fast like she regretted saying anything.

You hesitated, heart pounding, before gently asking, “What way?”

A pause. A long, aching pause.

Nagyung clenched her jaw. “Forget it.”

You didn’t. Couldn’t.

Because her silence said more than her words ever did.

A few days later, Jiheon surprised you with a picnic.

“Just the two of us,” she smiled, pulling you to the park with a checkered blanket and a box full of your favorite snacks. “You’ve been stressed lately.”

You tried to smile. She always meant well. Always so bright, so considerate.

But ever since that moment with Nagyung, you felt a weight in your chest that didn’t belong there before.

As Jiheon chattered about the bugs in the grass and how she wanted to paint your face someday just for fun, you noticed her tone shift.

“So… you and Nagyung.”

You looked up, startled. “What about us?”

She chewed on her straw thoughtfully. “You’ve been… weird around her lately.”

Your heart skipped. “Weird how?”

“I don’t know,” she shrugged, trying to sound casual. “You look at her like she hung the moon. But then you pretend you’re not looking.”

Silence settled between you.

Jiheon played with a blade of grass. “Do you like her?”

The question was simple.

But your answer wasn’t.

“I…” You exhaled. “It’s not like that.”

“Is it not?” Jiheon’s voice was quieter now. Not angry. Not sad. Just… unsure.

“I care about both of you,” you admitted. “You’re like the light I didn’t know I needed. And she’s…”

“She’s the shadow you can’t stop chasing.”

You looked at her, shocked at the way she said it. Jiheon smiled sadly.

“I’m not dumb, Y/n,” she whispered. “I just hoped maybe if I got closer first, you wouldn’t notice how much she means to you.”

That night, you didn’t sleep.

You stared at your ceiling, mind replaying every moment with both of them. Jiheon’s warm hand in yours, her laughter echoing in your head. Nagyung’s quiet stares, her eyes screaming things her lips would never say.

You realized you were standing on a cliff, and no matter who you stepped toward, someone was going to fall.

The next afternoon, you found Nagyung alone by the school’s back stairwell. She often hid there, behind the vending machines, sketchbook in hand.

You sat beside her. Said nothing for a while.

Finally, you asked, “Why do you keep pushing me away?”

She didn’t look at you. Just flipped the page in her sketchbook.

“Because I’m not her,” she replied quietly.

You frowned. “I never asked you to be.”

“But you look at her like she’s everything you ever wanted. And me?” She laughed bitterly. “I’m the noona who’s too cold, too distant, too—”

“You’re not.”

She paused.

You continued, voice trembling slightly. “You’re just scared. And so am I.”

Her eyes met yours, raw and exposed for the first time.

“I liked you,” she whispered. “Since before Jiheon ever said your name out loud. I liked you when you were just that quiet guy who helped clean up after club meetings. I liked you when you offered me your umbrella but didn’t say anything else.”

“Then why didn’t you—”

“Because she liked you too,” she cut in. “And I thought she had a better chance. I didn’t want to get in the way.”

You reached for her hand. She didn’t pull away.

“I wish you had told me,” you whispered.

“I wish I was braver.”

Her voice cracked, and you realized—for all her calm, for all her tough exterior—Nagyung was just as fragile as the rest of you.

You held her hand tighter.

She looked down, then up again, eyes full of questions. “Do you love her?”

You hesitated.

“I don’t know,” you admitted. “But I know I can’t stop thinking about you.”

Tears welled in her eyes—but she blinked them away. Stood up.

“Then figure it out,” she said quietly. “Before one of us ends up broken.”

And just like that, she walked away.

Leaving you with a heart torn between sunshine and shadow.

You thought you still had time.

Time to figure things out.

Time to untangle the ache in your chest.

Time to keep Jiheon smiling while slowly pulling Nagyung out of her shell.

But feelings don’t wait.

And guilt doesn't give second chances.

It was Jiheon who invited you out that day.

"Let’s go to the hill," she said, pretending like she hadn’t cried last night. You could hear it in her voice—the way it wavered when she laughed. The way her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes anymore.

You agreed, because you couldn’t say no to her.

Not when she was holding on so tightly.

The hill was where the three of you used to go.

Tall grass, lazy winds, a view of the sunset. The place where Jiheon once confessed she liked you, cheeks red, laughter clumsy. The place where Nagyung never said a word, just smiled faintly and stared off into the sky.

Now, it was just the two of you.

Jiheon sat close to you, but didn’t hold your hand. Didn’t lean in like she usually would. She just looked down at the tiny flowers brushing against her shoes.

“Do you love her?” she asked suddenly.

The question shattered the silence.

You looked at her—really looked at her. Her eyes were glassy, but her face was set. Like she already knew the answer.

You didn’t want to lie.

“I don’t know if it’s love,” you said softly. “But it’s something I can’t ignore anymore.”

She nodded slowly, biting her lower lip.

“It’s okay,” she said. “I already knew. I just… wanted to hear it from you.”

You opened your mouth to say something—but she beat you to it.

“I kept telling myself if I smiled enough… if I made you laugh enough… you’d pick me. I thought I was your type. I thought—” her voice broke, “—I thought being bright would be enough to make you forget her.”

She laughed, bitter and broken.

“I always knew she liked you, you know? But she never said anything. Never once. So I thought it was okay to like you. I thought I wasn’t stealing anything.”

“Jiheon, you’re not—”

“But I am,” she snapped, tears slipping down her cheeks. “I’m trying to hold on to something that was never mine.”

You reached for her, but she gently moved your hand away.

“It’s not your fault,” she whispered. “It’s mine. For falling for someone who never looked at me the way he looked at her.”

You walked her home that night, and she didn’t say another word.

But her silence said everything.

The next day, you searched for Nagyung.

She hadn’t shown up for class, hadn’t replied to your messages.

Your feet led you to the art room—where she always went when she wanted to be alone.

You found her there. Alone. Sitting by the open window, light falling softly on her sketchbook.

“I didn’t think you’d come,” she said, not looking up.

“I had to,” you said.

She finally turned to you.

“I saw Jiheon yesterday.”

You froze. “You… did?”

Nagyung nodded, her eyes distant. “I didn’t mean to. I was walking up the hill, and I heard her voice. I heard everything.”

You stepped forward, heart racing. “Nagyung—”

“I wasn’t going to say anything,” she cut you off, standing up. “But now I can’t stop hearing it. The way she cried. The way she said your name. Like it was a wound.”

You didn’t know what to say.

She looked at you then—really looked at you. And there was no mask this time. No coldness. Just raw, aching pain.

“Do you know what it feels like,” she said slowly, “to love someone in silence for so long… and then finally hear them admit they love you back, only because someone else got hurt in the process?”

Your lips parted, but no words came.

“I wanted you,” she whispered. “God, I wanted you so badly it hurt. But not like this. Not when it means Jiheon breaks.”

“She knew,” you said, voice hoarse. “She knew and she still wanted me to tell the truth. You think it didn’t kill me to watch her cry? But lying to both of you was worse.”

Nagyung’s fists clenched at her sides.

“I’m not blaming you,” she said. “I’m blaming myself. For not being brave. For standing in the shadows too long and then wondering why the sun never looked back at me.”

You walked up to her, close enough to feel the heat radiating from her skin.

“I do look at you, Nagyung,” you said, voice low. “All the time. I just thought you’d never want someone like me.”

She blinked, confused. “What?”

“You’re older. Cooler. You always seemed so distant… like I didn’t belong in your world.”

Her voice cracked. “You idiot.”

And then she pulled you in.

Her lips crashed against yours—desperate, trembling, angry, soft. Everything at once.

You didn’t know how long you stood there, in the silence of the art room, your hands on her waist, hers in your hair.

But when you pulled apart, her eyes were already brimming again.

“This changes everything,” she whispered.

“I know,” you said. “But I don’t want to go back.”

She nodded slowly.

Then turned away.

“Neither do I,” she whispered. “But we still have to face her.”

And when you did…

It was worse than you imagined.

Jiheon stood outside the art room door. She had come to return a book.

She had heard everything.

She looked at both of you. Her face pale. Eyes wide. And the world seemed to stop.

“Don’t,” she said softly, raising her hand. “Please… don’t say anything.”

“Jiheon—” Nagyung started, but Jiheon backed away.

“I get it,” she said, her voice breaking. “I really do. You guys are meant to be. I was just the… the warm-up, right?”

“No—” you choked. “You were never just that.”

She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes.

“I really hoped this wouldn’t hurt this much,” she whispered.

Then she turned. And she walked away.

Neither of you followed her.

Because she deserved space.

She deserved to be angry.

She deserved to be seen.

Even if it was too late.

That night, none of you slept.

And everything changed

Your phone buzzed on the nightstand, the screen lighting up the dark room. You stared at it, the name Nagyung flashing like a warning. Your heart thudded in your chest as you hesitated, fingers hovering over the screen. Finally, you swiped to answer.

“Hey,” her voice came through, soft but steady. “Are you… awake?”

“Yeah,” you replied, sitting up in bed. “What’s up?”

There was a pause, long enough for you to hear her take a deep breath. “I’ve been thinking. About… everything.”

You swallowed hard. “Me too.”

Another silence stretched between you, heavy with unspoken words. Then, she spoke again, her voice quieter this time. “I can’t watch Jiheon cry. I can’t be the reason she’s hurting.”

Your chest tightened. “Nagyung, it’s not just you. I—”

“I know,” she interrupted, her tone firm but not unkind. “But I’ve been thinking… maybe there’s a way we can all be happy. Or at least… less miserable.”

You frowned, confused. “What do you mean?”

She exhaled sharply, like she was steeling herself for what came next. “What if… what if we shared you?”

The words hung in the air, heavy and surreal. You blinked, unsure if you’d heard her right. “Shared me?”

“Yes,” she said, her voice trembling slightly. “Jiheon loves you. I love you. And you… you care about both of us, don’t you?”

You opened your mouth to respond, but no words came out. Your mind raced, trying to process what she was suggesting.

“I know it sounds crazy,” she continued, her voice gaining a little more strength. “But I can’t stand seeing her like this. And I can’t stand the thought of losing you either. Maybe… maybe this is the only way we can all be together without someone getting hurt.”

You ran a hand through your hair, your thoughts a tangled mess. “Nagyung, I… I don’t even know if that’s possible. Jiheon would never—”

“She might,” Nagyung cut in, her voice softer now. “If it means she doesn’t have to lose you completely.”

You sat there, stunned, the weight of her words pressing down on you. The idea was absurd, impossible even. But the desperation in her voice made it hard to dismiss outright.

“I don’t know,” you admitted finally. “This is… a lot.”

“I know,” she said quietly. “And I’m not saying it’s easy. But I think it’s worth considering. For all of us.”

You leaned back against the headboard, staring at the ceiling. The room felt too small suddenly, the walls closing in around you. “I need to think about this.”

“Take your time,” she replied, her voice gentle now. “Just… don’t shut me out, okay?”

“I won’t,” you promised, though your voice felt hollow.

The call ended, and you were left in silence, the weight of Nagyung’s proposal settling over you like a thick fog. You couldn’t shake the image of Jiheon’s tear-streaked face from your mind, or the way Nagyung’s voice had cracked when she said she loved you.

The next morning, you found yourself at the park, the same spot where Jiheon had confronted you just days before. You didn’t plan to go there, but your feet carried you anyway, as if drawn by some invisible force.

She was there.

Jiheon sat on the bench, her legs tucked under her, staring out at the pond. Her messy ponytail swayed gently in the breeze, and for a moment, she looked so much like the girl who had first pulled you into her orbit—bright, carefree, full of life.

But then she turned, and you saw the shadows under her eyes, the way her smile didn’t quite reach them anymore.

“Hey,” she said softly as you approached.

“Hey,” you replied, sitting down beside her.

For a while, neither of you spoke. The silence was heavy, but not uncomfortable. It was as if you were both waiting for the other to break it.

Finally, Jiheon sighed, leaning back against the bench. “I’ve been thinking.”

“About what?” you asked, though you already had an idea.

She glanced at you, her expression unreadable. “About Nagyung. About you. About… us.”

Your heart skipped a beat. “And?”

She hesitated, then looked away. “I don’t want to lose you. But I don’t want to lose her either. She’s my best friend.”

You nodded slowly, your throat tight. “I know.”

Jiheon turned to you then, her eyes searching yours. “Do you think… do you think there’s a way we can all be together? Without anyone getting hurt?”

The question caught you off guard, even though it shouldn’t have. You stared at her, trying to find the right words. “Nagyung… she mentioned something like that.”

Jiheon’s eyes widened slightly. “She did?”

“Yeah,” you admitted. “Last night.”

Jiheon looked down at her hands, twisting them nervously in her lap. “What do you think?”

You exhaled slowly, feeling the weight of the decision pressing down on you. “I don’t know. It’s… complicated.”

She nodded, her expression thoughtful. “It is. But… maybe it’s worth trying.”

You looked at her, surprised by the resolve in her voice. “You really think so?”

She met your gaze, her eyes filled with a mix of hope and uncertainty. “I don’t know. But I think… I think I’d rather try than lose both of you.”

Her words hung in the air, fragile and tentative. You reached out, taking her hand in yours. Her fingers were warm, familiar.

“We’ll figure it out,” you said softly. “Together.”

She smiled then—a small, hesitant smile—but it was real. For the first time in days, it felt like maybe, just maybe, things could be okay.

Later that evening, you found yourself standing outside Nagyung’s apartment, your heart pounding in your chest. You knocked softly, and after a moment, the door opened.

She stood there, her short dark hair slightly messy, her sharp eyes widening in surprise when she saw you.

“Hey,” she said, stepping aside to let you in.

“Hey,” you replied, stepping into the familiar space.

The air between you was charged with tension, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was the kind of tension that made your skin tingle, your breath catch in your throat.

“Did you talk to Jiheon?” she asked, her voice quiet.

You nodded. “Yeah.”

“And?”

You hesitated, then met her gaze. “She’s willing to try.”

Nagyung’s eyes softened, and for a moment, she looked almost vulnerable. “Really?”

“Yeah,” you said, stepping closer to her. “But we need to talk about this. All of us.”

She nodded slowly, her gaze dropping to your lips for just a second before she looked away. “Okay.”

You reached out, gently tilting her chin up so she was looking at you again. Her breath hitched, and you could feel the heat radiating from her skin.

“This isn’t going to be easy,” you whispered.

“I know,” she replied, her voice barely audible.

“But I want to try,” you added, your thumb brushing against her cheek.

Her eyes fluttered closed for a moment, and when she opened them again, there was something raw and unguarded in her gaze.

“Me too,” she breathed.

You leaned in slowly, giving her time to pull away if she wanted to. But she didn’t. Instead, she closed the distance between you, her lips brushing against yours in a kiss that was soft and tentative but filled with promise.

When you pulled back, her cheeks were flushed, and there was a faint smile on her lips.

“We should call Jiheon,” she said quietly.

You nodded, your heart racing. “Yeah.”

As she reached for her phone, you couldn’t help but wonder what this meant for the three of you—and whether this fragile balance could hold without shattering

The next time the three of you met… it wasn’t in silence. It wasn’t heavy, or painful, or sad.

It was in Jiheon’s tiny living room, with pillows scattered across the floor and her Spotify playlist humming gently in the background. Nagyung showed up with a six-pack of lemon soju. Jiheon handed her a slice of chocolate cake like it was a peace offering.

They didn’t talk much at first, but something was different this time. Their eyes met—and no one looked away.

Jiheon smiled. “I’m not giving up on him.”

Nagyung smirked. “Neither am I.”

You blinked, halfway through a sip of water.

“…Wait, what?”

Jiheon giggled, that signature twinkle back in her voice. “We talked. Like, actually talked.”

“All night,” Nagyung muttered, taking a swig. “Felt like couples therapy. But messier.”

Jiheon rolled her eyes. “Point is—we’re doing this. Together. We’re gonna try. But…”

You leaned forward. “But?”

“We’re going to take turns dating you,” Jiheon said firmly, like she’d rehearsed it. “Fair and square.”

“Wait, like… alternate days?” you asked, dumbfounded.

Nagyung shrugged. “Think of it as a rotation. Jiheon gets her fluffy dates. I get my chaotic ones. You get both versions of heaven.”

You stared at them.

Then laughed.

And for the first time in weeks… you weren’t torn. You were lucky. Really, ridiculously lucky.

Date #1 – Jiheon’s Day

She showed up in a cream cardigan and soft pink skirt, a tiny bow in her hair, practically glowing with excitement.

“We’re going somewhere fancy today,” she beamed. “So dress like you didn’t just roll out of bed.”

You didn’t have the heart to tell her you changed three times.

The restaurant was dimly lit, cozy, the kind of place with handwritten menus and candlelight dancing on wine glasses. Jiheon ordered pasta for both of you before you could even open the menu.

“I already checked the reviews,” she said smugly. “Their carbonara is a 9.7. No cap.”

Dinner with her felt like falling in love for the first time again. She talked with her hands, laughed loudly, and fed you bites across the table like you were in a K-drama. People stared, but she didn’t care.

Later, you walked hand-in-hand to a nearby cat and dog café.

She squealed the second a golden retriever climbed into her lap. You watched as she melted into a pile of fur and giggles, motioning you over as a sleepy kitten curled against your shoulder.

“This is nice,” she whispered, resting her head on your shoulder as dogs snored beside her. “You. Me. Peace.”

You kissed her temple.

And it really was peace.

Date #2 – Nagyung’s Turn

She showed up in ripped jeans, a leather jacket, and a mischievous grin. No frills. No ribbons. Just pure her.

“Bar first,” she said, slapping your arm. “We pre-game before we play.”

The bar was loud, neon-lit, crowded. But next to Nagyung, it felt easy.

She downed her first shot like it was water. You tried to keep up—and failed beautifully.

She laughed when you coughed. “Lightweight.”

“You tricked me,” you wheezed.

“You’re cute when you suffer,” she winked.

After drinks, she dragged you to the arcade two streets down. You didn’t expect her to be a full-on beast at Dance Dance Revolution.

She killed every round. Then grabbed your hand and pulled you to the air hockey table.

“I let Jiheon have her candlelight,” she smirked. “You get chaos with me.”

Your hand brushed hers between rounds, and in a rare quiet moment—when the room felt a little less loud—she pressed her lips to your cheek and whispered, “This is where I’m happy. With you. Like this.”

You smiled.

You were starting to think love didn’t have to look the same every time.

The Rotation

The days passed like scenes from two different movies:

With Jiheon, you wore cozy sweaters and walked through book fairs. She sang badly at karaoke, forced you to try ice cream flavors that didn’t make sense, and said “I love you” so easily it made your chest ache.

With Nagyung, you chased thrill. You rode motorbikes together down coastal roads. She smoked a clove cigarette once and handed it to you with a smirk. Her love was intense, deep, unspoken—but always there in her fingertips, her smirks, her rare, vulnerable stares.

They didn’t fight. They didn’t compete.

They learned to exist beside each other. Sometimes they even laughed together—like the time you tripped over a corgi leash and both girls roasted you for ten minutes straight.

You’d never blushed harder.

But you’d also never felt more seen.

One Night, Three Hearts

One night, the three of you ended up back at Jiheon’s apartment again.

There was leftover pizza, two bottles of soju, and a dumb movie playing in the background.

Jiheon lay curled against your side, laughing at the screen.

Nagyung leaned against your other shoulder, sipping quietly, the tips of her fingers brushing your arm.

And for a moment… There was no jealousy. No uncertainty. Just warmth.

“I still think you got the better deal,” Jiheon whispered teasingly. “Two girls who adore you. You’re spoiled.”

“Obviously,” Nagyung muttered. “He doesn’t even deserve it half the time.”

You grinned, wrapping your arms around both of them.

“You’re right,” you said. “I don’t deserve it.”

Jiheon looked up. “But?”

You looked between them.

“But I’m going to love both of you with everything I’ve got.”

They didn’t answer with words.

They answered with smiles.

And in Jiheon’s giggle, in Nagyung’s quiet hand squeeze… you knew.

Love doesn’t always follow the rules.

Sometimes, it writes its own.

Suddently Jiheon and nagyung glances at you, as they looked intrigued? Something flashes inside their eyes. Something raw. Something needy. And slowly they started to touch you, sensually.

Jiheon’s fingers brushed against your arm first, light and teasing, her touch sending a shiver down your spine. Her eyes met yours, bright and playful, but there was something deeper there now—something that made your breath catch. Nagyung stood just behind you, her presence a quiet storm, her sharp gaze locked on you with an intensity that made your skin prickle.

“You’re thinking too much,” Jiheon murmured, her voice soft but laced with a hint of mischief. She stepped closer, her messy ponytail swaying as she tilted her head, her lips curving into that familiar, lopsided smile. “Let us take care of you.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but Nagyung’s hand was already on your shoulder, her touch firm yet gentle. “Don’t talk,” she said, her voice low and steady. “Just… let us.”

Her words were a command, but there was a vulnerability in them too—a plea. You nodded, your heart pounding as Jiheon’s hands slid up your chest, her fingers deftly unbuttoning your shirt. Her touch was warm, electric, and you couldn’t help but lean into it, your body responding before your mind could catch up.

Nagyung’s hands joined hers, her movements slower, more deliberate. She traced the lines of your shoulders, her fingertips brushing against your skin in a way that made you shiver. Her breath was warm against your neck as she leaned in, her lips grazing the sensitive spot just below your ear.

“You’ve been holding back,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “Why?”

You didn’t have an answer—or maybe you did, but it was lost in the haze of sensation as Jiheon’s lips found yours. Her kiss was soft at first, tentative, but it quickly deepened, her hands tangling in your hair as she pulled you closer. Her body pressed against yours, warm and inviting, and you couldn’t help but respond, your hands finding her waist as you kissed her back.

Nagyung’s hands didn’t stop moving, though. They slid down your back, tracing the curve of your spine before slipping under the hem of your shirt. Her touch was cool against your heated skin, and you gasped into Jiheon’s mouth, the sensation overwhelming.

Jiheon pulled back slightly, her breath coming in short, shallow gasps. “You’re so tense,” she murmured, her fingers trailing down your chest. “Let us help you relax.”

Before you could respond, Nagyung’s hands were on your shoulders again, gently pushing you toward the bed. You stumbled slightly, your legs feeling like jelly, but Jiheon was there to steady you, her laughter soft and melodic.

“Careful,” she teased, her eyes sparkling. “We don’t want you falling before we even get started.”

You sat down on the edge of the bed, your heart racing as Jiheon knelt in front of you, her hands resting on your knees. Nagyung stood behind her, her arms crossed as she watched you with that same intense gaze.

“You’re nervous,” Nagyung observed, her voice calm but with an edge of something else—something that made your stomach twist. “Don’t be.”

Jiheon’s hands moved higher, her fingers brushing against the inside of your thighs. “We’ve got you,” she whispered, her voice filled with a warmth that made your chest ache. “Just let go.”

You closed your eyes, letting out a shaky breath as Jiheon’s lips found yours again. Her kiss was softer this time, more tender, and you felt yourself melting into it, your hands tangling in her hair as you pulled her closer.

Nagyung’s hands were on your shoulders again, her touch grounding you as she leaned in, her lips brushing against the nape of your neck. Her breath was hot against your skin, and you shivered, your body arching into her touch.

“You’re so beautiful,” Jiheon murmured against your lips, her voice filled with awe. “I’ve wanted this for so long.”

Nagyung’s hands slid down your chest, her fingers tracing the lines of your abs before slipping under the waistband of your pants. You gasped, your hips jerking involuntarily as her fingers brushed against the sensitive skin there.

“Shh,” Nagyung whispered, her voice low and soothing. “We’ve got you.”

Jiheon’s hands joined Nagyung’s, her touch lighter but no less electrifying. Together, they worked to undo the button of your pants, their movements slow and deliberate. You could feel the heat of their bodies pressing against you from both sides, their breaths mingling with yours as they leaned in closer.

“You’re shaking,” Jiheon observed, her voice filled with concern. “Are you okay?”

You nodded, unable to speak as Nagyung’s lips found yours again. Her kiss was different from Jiheon’s—deeper, more intense—and you felt yourself getting lost in it, your hands tangling in her short hair as you kissed her back.

Jiheon’s hands didn’t stop moving, though. They slid down your legs, her fingers brushing against the sensitive skin there before slipping off your pants completely. You gasped, your body arching into her touch as she leaned in, her lips brushing against the inside of your thigh.

“You’re so sensitive,” she murmured, her voice filled with wonder. “I love it.”

Nagyung’s hands were on your chest again, her touch firm but gentle as she pushed you back onto the bed. You went willingly, your body sinking into the soft mattress as she climbed on top of you, her legs straddling your hips.

“You’re ours now,” she whispered, her voice low and filled with promise. “And we’re not letting go.”

Jiheon’s hands joined Nagyung’s again, their touches blending together as they explored every inch of your body. You felt like you were on fire, every nerve ending alight with sensation as they took turns kissing you, their lips soft and insistent.

“You’re so perfect,” Jiheon murmured against your lips, her voice filled with awe. “I can’t believe you’re really here.”

Nagyung’s hands slid down your chest again, her fingers tracing the lines of your abs before slipping under the waistband of your boxers. You gasped, your hips jerking involuntarily as her fingers brushed against the sensitive skin there.

“Shh,” Nagyung whispered, her voice low and soothing. “We’ve got you.”

Jiheon’s hands joined Nagyung’s again, their touches blending together as they worked to slide off your boxers. You felt exposed, vulnerable, but also safe—like they were holding you together even as they pulled you apart.

“You’re so beautiful,” Jiheon murmured, her voice filled with awe. “I’ve wanted this for so long.”

Nagyung’s lips found yours again, her kiss deeper, more intense than before. You felt yourself getting lost in it, your hands tangling in her short hair as you kissed her back.

Jiheon’s hands didn’t stop moving, though. They slid down your legs, her fingers brushing against the sensitive skin there before slipping off your boxers completely. You gasped, your body arching into her touch as she leaned in, her lips brushing against the inside of your thigh.

“You’re so sensitive,” she murmured, her voice filled with wonder. “I love it.”

Nagyung’s hands were on your chest again, her touch firm but gentle as she pushed you back onto the bed. You went willingly, your body sinking into the soft mattress as she climbed on top of you, her legs straddling your hips.

“You’re ours now,” she whispered, her voice low and filled with promise. “And we’re not letting go.”

Jiheon’s hands joined Nagyung’s again, their touches blending together as they explored every inch of your body. You felt like you were on fire, every nerve ending alight with sensation as they took turns kissing you, their lips soft and insistent.

“You’re so perfect,” Jiheon murmured against your lips, her voice filled with awe. “I can’t believe you’re really here.”

Nagyung’s hands slid down your chest again, her fingers tracing the lines of your abs before slipping under the waistband of your boxers. You gasped, your hips jerking involuntarily as her fingers brushed against the sensitive skin there.

“Shh,” Nagyung whispered, her voice low and soothing. “We’ve got you.”

Jiheon’s hands joined Nagyung’s again, their touches blending together as they worked to slide off your boxers. You felt exposed, vulnerable, but also safe—like they were holding you together even as they pulled you apart.

“You’re so beautiful,” Jiheon murmured, her voice filled with awe. “I’ve wanted this for so long.”

Nagyung’s lips found yours again, her kiss deeper, more intense than before. You felt yourself getting lost in it, your hands tangling in her short hair as you kissed her back.

Jiheon’s hands didn’t stop moving, though. They slid down your legs, her fingers brushing against the sensitive skin there before slipping off your boxers completely. You gasped, your body arching into her touch as she leaned in, her lips brushing against the inside of your thigh.

“You’re so sensitive,” she murmured, her voice filled with wonder. “I love it.”

Nagyung’s hands were on your chest again, her touch firm but gentle as she pushed you back onto the bed. You went willingly, your body sinking into the soft mattress as she climbed on top of you, her legs straddling your hips.

“You’re ours now,” she whispered, her voice low and filled with promise. “And we’re not letting go.”

Jiheon’s hands joined Nagyung’s again, their touches blending together as they explored every inch of your body. You felt like you were on fire, every nerve ending alight with sensation as they took turns kissing you, their lips soft and insistent.

“You’re so perfect,” Jiheon murmured against your lips, her voice filled with awe. “I can’t believe you’re really here.”

Nagyung’s hands slid down your chest again, her fingers tracing the lines of your abs before slipping under the waistband of your boxers. You gasped, your hips jerking involuntarily as her fingers brushed against the sensitive skin there.

“Shh,” Nagyung whispered, her voice low and soothing. “We’ve got you.”

Jiheon’s hands joined Nagyung’s again, their touches blending together as they worked to slide off your boxers. You felt exposed, vulnerable, but also safe—like they were holding you together even as they pulled you apart.

“You’re so beautiful,” Jiheon murmured, her voice filled with awe. “I’ve wanted this for so long.”

Nagyung’s lips found yours again, her kiss deeper, more intense than before. You felt yourself getting lost in it, your hands tangling in her short hair as you kissed her back.

Jiheon’s hands didn’t stop moving, though. They slid down your legs, her fingers brushing against the sensitive skin there before slipping off your boxers completely. You gasped, your body arching into her touch as she leaned in, her lips brushing against the inside of your thigh.

“You’re so sensitive,” she murmured, her voice filled with wonder. “I love it.”

Nagyung’s hands were on your chest again, her touch firm but gentle as she pushed you back onto the bed. You went willingly, your body sinking into the soft mattress as she climbed on top of you, her legs straddling your hips.

“You’re ours now,” Nagyung whispered, her voice low and possessive, her breath warm against your ear. Her hands slid down your chest, fingers tracing the lines of your abs before she leaned in, her lips brushing against yours in a slow, teasing kiss. You could feel the heat of her body pressing against you, her hips grinding ever so slightly against yours, making your cock throb with need.

Jiheon’s hands were still on your thighs, her touch light but insistent. She shifted closer, her messy ponytail brushing against your leg as she leaned in, her lips trailing kisses up your inner thigh. Her breath was hot against your skin, and you could feel the wetness of her tongue as she licked a slow, deliberate path toward your cock.

“Jiheon…” you groaned, your voice strained as her mouth finally closed around the tip of your length. She hummed softly, the vibration sending a jolt of pleasure through you as she took more of you into her mouth. Her lips were warm and wet, her tongue swirling around the sensitive head of your cock as she began to move, her hand wrapping around the base to stroke what she couldn’t take.

Nagyung’s lips left yours, trailing down your neck as she bit gently at the sensitive skin there. Her teeth grazed your collarbone, and you could feel the sharp sting of her bite followed by the soothing warmth of her tongue. Her hands moved to your chest, her fingers pinching and teasing your nipples until they were hard and sensitive.

“You like that?” Nagyung murmured, her voice husky as she leaned back to watch Jiheon work. Her eyes were dark with desire, her lips curved into a smirk as she reached down to stroke your cheek. “She’s good, isn’t she?”

You could only nod, your breath coming in short, ragged gasps as Jiheon’s mouth worked its magic. Her pace was slow and deliberate, her tongue flicking against the underside of your cock with every stroke. She moaned softly around you, the sound sending another wave of pleasure through your body.

Nagyung’s hand slid down your chest, her fingers trailing over your stomach before she reached between your legs. Her touch was light at first, just a gentle brush against your balls before she cupped them in her hand, rolling them gently as Jiheon continued to suck you off.

“You’re so hard for us,” Nagyung purred, her voice filled with satisfaction. She leaned in, her lips brushing against your ear as she whispered, “Do you want more?”

You nodded again, unable to form words as Jiheon’s mouth tightened around you, her pace quickening. Nagyung’s hand moved lower, her fingers brushing against the base of your cock before she pressed one finger against your entrance. You tensed for a moment, but she shushed you gently, her lips brushing against your neck.

“Relax,” she murmured, her voice soft but commanding. “I’ve got you.”

You let out a shaky breath as she pressed her finger inside you, the sensation unfamiliar but not unwelcome. She moved slowly, giving you time to adjust as she added a second finger, scissoring them gently to stretch you. Jiheon’s mouth never left your cock, her tongue swirling around the head as she sucked you deeper.

The combination of sensations was overwhelming—Jiheon’s warm, wet mouth, Nagyung’s fingers moving inside you, their hands and lips exploring every inch of your body. You could feel the tension building in your stomach, your hips bucking involuntarily as Jiheon took you all the way to the back of her throat.

“Fuck…” you groaned, your hands tangling in Jiheon’s hair as she moaned around you. Nagyung’s fingers curled inside you, hitting a spot that made you see stars. Your body trembled with pleasure, your cock throbbing as Jiheon’s mouth worked you closer and closer to the edge.

Nagyung leaned in, her lips brushing against yours in a deep, hungry kiss. You could taste yourself on her tongue, the thought making you even harder. She pulled back slightly, her eyes locking with yours as she whispered, “Come for us.”

It was all the encouragement you needed. With a strangled cry, you came hard, your cock pulsing in Jiheon’s mouth as she swallowed every drop. Your body shook with the force of your release, your hips jerking uncontrollably as Nagyung’s fingers continued to move inside you, prolonging the pleasure.

When it was over, you collapsed back onto the bed, your chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath. Jiheon pulled away with a satisfied smile, her lips glistening as she wiped them with the back of her hand. Nagyung’s fingers slipped out of you, and she leaned in to kiss you again, her lips soft and gentle against yours.

“You did so well,” she murmured, her voice filled with pride. “But we’re not done yet.”

Jiheon climbed onto the bed beside you, her hands already moving to unbutton her shirt. She shrugged it off, revealing the soft curves of her body beneath. Her bra followed quickly, and she tossed it aside before leaning in to kiss you again. Her breasts pressed against your chest, her nipples hard and sensitive as they brushed against your skin.

Nagyung’s hands were on your hips, pulling you onto your side so she could slide behind you. Her body pressed against yours, her breasts soft against your back as she reached around to stroke your cock again. It was already hardening under her touch, and she chuckled softly as she whispered, “Already? You’re insatiable.”

Jiheon’s lips left yours, trailing down your neck and chest as she kissed and nibbled at your skin. Her hands moved lower, sliding down your stomach before she reached between your legs. Her fingers brushed against Nagyung’s hand, and the two of them shared a look before Jiheon took over, her hand wrapping around your cock as she began to stroke you.

Nagyung’s lips found your ear again, her breath hot against your skin as she whispered, “Do you want to fuck her?”

You nodded eagerly, your cock twitching in Jiheon’s hand at the thought. She smiled up at you, her eyes filled with desire as she shifted onto her back, spreading her legs invitingly. Nagyung’s hands were on your hips again, guiding you forward until you were positioned between Jiheon’s thighs.

“Go on,” Nagyung urged, her voice low and sultry. “Take her.”

You didn’t need any more encouragement. With a groan, you pushed into Jiheon, her tight warmth enveloping you as she gasped in pleasure. Her hands gripped your shoulders, her nails digging into your skin as you began to move, thrusting into her slowly at first but quickly picking up speed.

Nagyung’s hands were on your back, her nails scratching lightly as she leaned in to kiss your shoulder. Her lips trailed up your neck, and you could feel the sharp sting of her teeth as she bit down gently. The pain mixed with the pleasure of fucking Jiheon, and you moaned loudly, your hips slamming into hers with increasing urgency.

Jiheon’s legs wrapped around your waist, pulling you deeper into her as she cried out in pleasure. Her hands moved to your ass, squeezing tightly as she urged you on. “Harder,” she gasped, her voice trembling with need. “Please…”

You obliged, driving into her with everything you had. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, mingling with the sounds of Jiheon’s moans and Nagyung’s soft whispers in your ear. You could feel the tension building in your stomach again, your cock throbbing as Jiheon’s walls clenched around you.

“I’m close…” you groaned, your hips stuttering as you fought to hold on.

“Come inside her,” Nagyung whispered, her voice filled with desire. “Fill her up.”

With a final thrust, you came hard, your cock pulsing inside Jiheon as she cried out in pleasure. Her body trembled beneath you, her walls tightening around you as she reached her own climax. You collapsed onto her, your chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath.