#got7writersnet

“Jinyoung.” She paused to laugh, looking around his apartment at the countless flower arrangements littering every free space before her gaze drifted back to the three new arrangements nestled neatly in his arms. “This is a bit insane.”

His eyes crinkled upwards with his grin and he shook his shoulders at her lightly; she took the hint and plucked the middle bouquet of flowers out of his hands and slid into the kitchen to find something to put it in.

“I know, it’s a lot. And this is like...barely a quarter of what’s been delivered to the company. There’s nowhere left to put any more.” He carefully put down the flowers in his arms, tucking them in between the ones already on his coffee table. He laughed when she appeared behind him, holding the bouquet she’d taken up to cover her face.

“I guess that can go on the counter?”

“There is exactly one free spot on the counter and if I put them there that means there’ll be no space left for me to cook you anything.”

He sighed dramatically, teasing. “Is this your way of saying you want takeout?”

“It’s exactly my way of saying I want takeout,” she parroted with a giggle, squirming as he wrapped his arms around her waist, tugging her up against him.

“Anything for you,” he said, dropping a soft kiss to her forehead before patting the base of her back. “Order whatever you want, I’ve got to call my manager real quick.”

She beamed. “Yes sir!”

--

Later, curled up on the couch with takeout containers on the floor (the only remaining surface that wasn’t covered in flowers), she looked up at him.

“I’m really proud of you, you know. Have I told you that? I am. I’m stupidly proud of you. This is amazing.” She gestured vaguely to the bouquets around them.

He twisted his fingers into her hair as she shifted slightly to get into a more comfortable position with her head in his lap. “Thanks, bun.”

“I’m proud of you and the other guys too. I mean, it couldn’t have been an easy decision necessarily, but you’re all just...thriving. And y’all were so worried about your fans but look! They’re so supportive, it’s insane!”

He laughed, his eyes going soft. “You know, you were a big piece of inspiration for this, honestly.”

“Me?” She rolled her eyes. The idea that she’d inspired any of the members of GOT7 to do anything was almost laughable. “What have I done?”

He shrugged. “I saw how you chased after what you wanted,” he said like it was the simplest thing in the world. “When the guys said they were thinking about not renewing their contracts, I realized this was a chance for me–for all of us–to chase after things we were passionate about. I didn’t want to let that go.”

Her face went soft and she reached up, cupping his cheek in her palm. “Well, I can’t wait to see more from Actor Park Jinyoung and GOT7’s Park Jinyoung both.”

He leaned into her touch before breaking out of it to press cheeky kisses to her palm and the tips of her fingers. “Well, I can’t wait to see more from Park Jinyoung’s girlfriend.”

“Oh?” She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively, yelping in surprise when he wrapped his arms around her waist and tugged her upright into his lap.

“Or perhaps a little less.”

She heard his smirk more than she saw it, her vision blurring when he ran his hands under her shirt.

“I believe that could–” She gasped as his fingers danced higher up her back. “–be arranged.”

Jinyoung laughed, bright and happy and carefree, hoisting her up in his arms as he stood, shoving the takeout containers out of the way with his foot. “Could it be arranged right now?”

She pretended to think, even as he headed toward his bedroom. “Hmmm–” She erupted into giggles as he dumped her on his bed, immediately rolling out of his reach and scrunching her nose up at him. “I think it maybe could be.”

He’d already lost his shirt, climbing onto the bed after her and trapping her with kisses peppered along her neck and across her cheeks. She smiled up at him fondly, melting under his touch the way she always did.

“I like this Park Jinyoung who chases what he wants.”

🌙

Have you ever loved someone so much, you can barely breathe when you’re with them?

“I had a lot of fun with you tonight.”

“Was that before or after you had to carry me home?”

His laugh reverberates in his chest, tickling mine as I feel it against his back. I lift my head to rest it on his shoulder and nudge my temple against his neck.

“You didn’t have to,” I say softly even as my arms instinctively tighten around his shoulders.

“True, and you are kind of heavy.”

“Park Jinyoung!”

He laughs again, letting his head fall against mine before his arms – hooked under my knees – lifts me a little. “You said you were dizzy! And you live ten minutes away.”

“Twenty,” I mumble defensively to express my guilt.

“No one drinks wine like you, okay? You’re supposed to hold it up to your nose, smell it first, and then sip.”

“I did that!”

He stops walking and tilts his head, staring at me incredulously. “You chugged it from a paper cup.”

“I take big sips,” I snort.

He’s silent as his eyes narrow judgmentally. I have a clever remark waiting at the tip of my tongue for him, but he pecks my cheek and a laugh spills from my mouth.

“Hey.” I tap his arms for him to let me down, nudging his side with my knee until he carefully lowers me, never letting go until my feet are on the ground. I hold out my hand and he takes it as we continue the short way back to my place.

I know he was indulging in my vanity when he carried me from the studio. Knowing I wanted to show off a little, that I was proud of being able to say that we were together, even if for tonight.

For all I know, he could rethink the entire thing and decide to stay friends. It’s not like we were in a relationship. He was just the guy who asked me to get food with him sometimes. Some guy from my philosophy class I painted for an assignment.

But I sneak a glance at him as we walk along the empty streets and he’s so entirely his own.

Jinyoung was the kind of person who didn’t care what people thought of him. Maybe he indulged in his own vanity, but he never struck me as the type who could be someone else’s somebody.

I envied that. And I was self-conscious as somebody he wanted to know. The truth is, I go back and forth between reassuring myself that I’m doing what’s best for me and reminding myself what a fuck-up I am for it. I mean, I did take pride in my work and I was afraid to show that sometimes I didn’t. It just never occurred to me that what Jinyoung thought of me would ever be important.

I want that. I want that to be important to me. I want him to be important to me.

As we stand together waiting for the light to turn, maybe because I’m a little disoriented, I can’t stop thinking about his hand in mine and the warmth of his palm. And my hands being so grossly sweaty, but he hasn’t said or done anything to indicate he notices.

I take a step closer and he takes his hand back, to my disappointment. But he wraps his arm around my shoulders and gently brings me into his side as we wait. His jacket is soft against the skin of my cheek and I hesitate before wrapping my arm around his waist.

Between the cars passing us, I can just barely hear him murmur to me, maybe even to himself, “You don’t have to hide from me.”

Without thinking, without stopping to wonder what I’d meant to him then, nothing else seemed to matter. I was so used to having to explain myself to the people who told me it was a hopeless dream, an unproductive, uncertain thing to love. When he told me not to, I couldn’t help myself.

I held back hot tears, hid them under gasping laughter because, for the first time in a long time, someone believed in me. Even just the littlest amount, however much it is, Jinyoung believed in me.

“They were beautiful,” he said softly under the streetlights, “I’m proud of you.”

And he squeezes my shoulder, but I bury my face in his jacket. He lets me catch my breath. I manage to whisper, “I’m sorry,” and repeat it again and again only for myself to hear.

I’m sorry because I fell in love tonight.

🌙

I found him sitting outside the art department waiting for me, just like he said he would. Even after I told him I could walk myself home, he stopped answering those texts. That was almost an hour ago.

As I get closer, my footsteps become lighter and I tilt my head only to smile at the book in his lap. Always had a book in his lap, his knee crossed over the other, and his hair fallen over his forehead.

I bend down behind the bench and put my hands over Jinyoung’s eyes, holding back a guilty laugh when he visibly jumps. His hands grip the book just for a moment before he relaxes against his seat.

“Guess who,” I sing coyly.

The muscles in his face move under my touch, his cheekbones too, as he wrinkles his nose. “It’s pretty obvious, I know your voice.”

I roll my eyes and throw my hands up, resting them on his shoulders. “You’re so broody.”

But I kiss his cheek noisily, smiling when he turns to me with one of his own. That serene, relaxed kind that looked sleepy when I first met him. Soft. Jinyoung was so terribly soft.

His hand reaches out to touch my cheek. The back of his knuckles skim my jaw and chin, stroking the corner of my mouth with the pad of his thumb. He looks at me and I don’t want to move. I’ve never been touched so tenderly by someone, never felt so entranced by the way someone’s eyes can hold mine.

He has touched my lips and kissed every inch of my skin, but I’m still getting used to being loved by him.

“And you’ve got too much energy for me,” Jinyoung murmurs before kissing me gently.

Beside myself, my lips twitch and I lower my head, laughing silently as I press my hand over the one he cradles my face in. I lace my fingers through his and stand up as he extends his arm so I could walk around the bench, never letting go of him.

“I’m sorry you had to wait so long.”

He shakes his head, “I had to get some reading done anyway. I’m standing in for a professor next week and I really don’t want to blank in front of eighty kids.”

“Kids?”

“Freshman,” he corrects himself, exasperated. “I want to be respectable.”

I look down at his pale blue button-down shirt and pressed black slacks, blinking at the patent leather shoes before meeting the amused expression on his face.

“What?”

“Jinyoung,” I sigh out, “You already dress like their grandfathers, you don’t have to worry about being respectable.”

He blinks, tilting his head up at me. “Why are we together again?”

“Because you feel safe going completely unhinged around me?”

“Huh.” He lets go of my hand and puts his book in his shiny, pressed leather messenger bag that I thought was so damn pretentious. “Thought it was because you’re charming and ridiculously full of life. Could have something to do with your ability to paint me extremely well.”

“If you love me, you can just say so. I mean, if your pride can handle it,” I grin widely.

“And spoil you? Absolutely not.” He stands up and takes my chin between his fingers again to kiss my forehead. “Besides, that’s too simple. And there are other ways to say it.”

“Like?”

“Like, I can’t wait to have dinner with your parents next week and tell them what an incredibly talented daughter they have.”

I lower my eyes, biting my lip to hide the girlish glee bubbling in my stomach. “My dad wouldn’t let you in the house after that.”

“That’s too bad,” Jinyoung shrugs, not feeling sorry at all. “Guess I’ll just climb up through your window. Get real Shakespearean with it.”

“You’re such a nerd.”

“You love this nerd.”

I shake my head and pull him away from the bench. “Can’t argue with that logic. I call Romeo!”

“You don’t want to be Juliet? She owns the last half of the play.”

“No way, you’d look way better in the dress.”

He laughs next to me, nudging his shoulder into mine before putting his hand on the small of my back and pulling me to him, walking together in strides.

“So what kept you?” he asked.

“Struggling with a piece,” I shrug, “Couldn’t quite get it how I wanted.”

“Another block?”

“Something like that.”

Jinyoung squeezes my hip as we stop at the crosswalk. “You’ll figure it out. There’s nothing you can’t paint.”

That gentle, so certain confidence in his voice takes my breath away. I want to tell him that that’s not true. There are plenty of things I couldn’t put on canvas, not even the best artists could.

But I look at him and find the pride I searched for in people I’ve known all my life. So does it even matter?

He’s going to say I painted the sun and stars and the moon in the sky if I tried to argue anyway.

He turns his head to look back at me knowingly and shakes his head with an amused smirk.

But I could never paint the depth of his gaze when he’s reading words off a page out loud. Or hear his laugh even though I’ve memorized every line in his face, every curve and crook of his hands when he covers his mouth.

Even though it’s never stopped me from trying, I could never capture Jinyoung in all that he is.

There are no colors, shades, hues of any kind that could give life to the light he brings out of me or the one I spark in him.

🌙

I don’t expect Jinyoung to come to the studio. I don’t expect anything, or even allow myself to want anything from him. Not when he hasn’t tried to contact me and knowing that what was left between us was all we had left.

In an entirely selfish way, I think maybe it’s better if he decides to never see me again. At least then he could forget me. It’s only fair when I’d forgotten him. I try not to listen to myself, to that little part of me that is getting easier to ignore whenever the thought that I deserve to be forgotten creeps into my mind.

Still, it doesn’t stop me from waiting for him.

But six o’clock passes, then seven, and eight. K leaves at nine after he hands me the keys. The time passes either like a blur or achingly slow, and I’m caught between looking over a work-in-progress and washing up. In the end, I’m just waiting and trying to hide it.

He comes, I’ll talk to him.

He doesn’t, then he doesn’t.

He comes, I’ll tell him the truth.

He doesn’t, then he doesn’t.

He comes, I’ll tell him to forget.

He doesn’t, then he doesn’t.

If he comes, I deserve it.

If he doesn’t, I deserve it.

I’m not ready. Whether Jinyoung will show up or not, I’m not ready to face him now and Jaebum is right. I’ll never be ready to face him. I’m afraid to do the hard thing if it means that I’ll be hurting him.

But I’m afraid that if I don’t, I won’t be—

“Hello?”

Run.

A chill runs up my spine as I put my dirty brushes in the sink and take a step towards the door. With hesitating hands, I push it open. He’s not up yet.

“Hello?”

Hide in the cleanup. Maybe he’ll leave.

He won’t. Jinyoung is not someone who just gives up after not even trying. He doesn’t believe in doing the easy thing. He cares too much to ever choose the easy thing.

I’m scared. But I step outside and work up that bit of bravery he saw in me to call out, “Up here! Cleaning!”

Like nothing’s wrong. As if he didn’t leave my hospital room with his hands balled into fists and his head down because he couldn’t bear to look at me.

Be brave, I tell myself and shut my eyes, opening them when footsteps echo from the steps. Be brave.

I walk over to meet him halfway, but the sight of him leaves me breathless. His chest is heaving slightly like he was trying to catch his breath and sweat gleamed from his temple down his neck. Tucked under one of his arms is a small shoebox.

Did he run here? To give my stuff back?

My eyes are fixated on the white box, at the little bits of paper tucked inside and instinctively wrack my brain for what it could be that I gave to him. Thinking it could distract me from this gnawing emptiness in my stomach.

“I wasn’t sure—“ His voice cuts through the silence between us.

I look to him and find that he’s staring right back. Jinyoung, who was beautiful even with tears shining in his eyes, the beautiful boy who waited for me. Who told me that everything was going to be okay when I didn’t even know his voice anymore.

Jinyoung who promised to love me if he never saw me again.

“I honestly didn’t know if I should have come,” he murmurs. And I hear it in his voice, the uncertainty and that doubt he tried so hard to hide from me. If it meant protecting me, he’d choke on his own pain before any of it could touch me.

I smooth my already dry hands on my jeans, not knowing what to say. “Sorry. I mean, thank you,” I add quickly, blinking at the floor. “Sorry, it’s late.”

“It’s fine. Are you okay?”

“How can you ask me that?” I blurt out before I can take it back.

He flinches as if I’ve just hit him.

I purse my lips and look up at the ceiling so he can’t see me, but I know he does and that makes it so much worse. My fingers squeeze the thick fabric of my jeans, trying to stay calm. To keep myself level, think good thoughts, think real and good thoughts.

I am not broken. I am not broken.

My throat feels tight as I watch Jinyoung watch me in stunned silence, but I can’t keep him waiting like this. I take a shaky breath in, then carefully out.

“All this time, even now, you’ve put me before you. Even when it hurt to hear me say that I-I forgot—“

I covered my mouth and breathe through my nose, keeping my eyes up. Keep the tears back and show him that I am not this broken thing. I am not fragile, not the glass girl he was too scared to even touch in that hospital bed.

“I’m sorry, Jinyoung.” I raise my chin and meet his eyes even when all I want to do is put my head down. “I wanted to tell you that you didn’t deserve that. And I’m sorry for making you wait for me. I’m sorry for every minute and every second that I ever wanted you to wait for me.”

I’m sorry to him even now for wanting him to meet the distance between us, knowing it could drag him to sink with me.

He clears his throat and it echoes through the empty room before he takes the steps closer to me.

As he nears, I notice how tired Jinyoung actually looks. His shoulders slightly slacked, footsteps heavy. There was a bit of color under his eyes and a barely noticeable sag in the lines of his mouth.

He stops in front of me with the box still securely tucked under his arm. And he says to me very carefully, “You could have died.”

“I—“

“I almost lost you,” he cuts me off, drawing closer until he’s standing over me. “Maybe it’s selfish. I’m sorry if it is, but I almost lost the girl I love. The last thing I wanted is for you to apologize to me for losing yourself.”

I shake my head, not knowing what else to say or do to make this better or how to tell him that that wasn’t what I meant. I want to run away. I’m not ready. I need to run away.

The box falls with a loud clack, flutters of paper and pit-pats of things I couldn’t discern. All I know is that Jinyoung has his arms around me. He can still find it in himself, in all the pain I didn’t mean to give him, to wrap me up.

His fingers find my hair, trying to give me tenderness when all he wanted was to know that I feel it, to want to make me feel it. His other hand is at my back, squeezing me to him.

“Why did you wait?” My question is a whimper against his shoulder and I want to hook my arms around them, but it still feels too scary. Too terrible to want someone so much.

“I told you. If there was a chance, I would. I told you,” he says, so sure of himself. So unfamiliar, but I know. “So why don’t we just let it go?”

The weight of his arms lifts, but he takes my face in his hands and I search for him as he searches for me. I don’t want to let it go. I don’t want to this to be all that we’re living for.

“I said I’d wait for you to be you,” Jinyoung says with a forlorn smile. It didn’t reach his eyes and neither did mine. “And in the meantime, I’d be me. I thought, Im Jaebum – maybe – I didn’t think. And I forgot you too when I was angry.”

I held his wrists in my hands, allowing myself this selfishness. I let myself need his closeness, to want his tenderness, want his longing for me. I want to wrap him up, want to kiss his lips. I want him to be wanted.

But all too soon, the warmth of his touch leaves my skin. He takes my hands in his, his own fingers twitch before he squeezes mine. “I didn’t come here to change my mind.”

“Even with what we have left?” I ask in spite of my selfish thoughts. “Even when it’s broken?”

“It doesn’t have to be forever,” he answers hoarsely, stopping to clear his throat again. “We aren’t broken; this isn’t your fault. I want you to be you and I’ll still be me and I still want what we have. It was never broken for me. You were never broken to me.”

“Then why did you bring my stuff back?”

He bends down and picks up some of the papers that’d fallen, all creased from folding and covered in ink or pencil shavings, easel stains, oil blots. Jinyoung holds them out and up to me, unfolding them carefully.

“You can’t keep this, these are all things you gave me,” he says defensively, eyes wide and determined. “I didn’t come here to give it all back, I wanted to show you that they’re real. And so are we. And so was this part of you.”

“Then I want to know the part of me that had you.”

Maybe we can’t ever be the same. I don’t think there’s anything in the world that could fix what’s wrong or replace what’s gone. So why shouldn’t we let that go if it means we can start here?

I put my hands at the sides of his neck and I look at Jinyoung the way he has always wanted. He doesn’t dare touch me now and I see his hesitation despite wanting to.

“Can I kiss you?” I ask as he lowers his head to mine. His nose brushes along the length of mine and I can almost taste his warm breath as it fans over my mouth.

He cradles my chin between his knuckles and strokes my cheek with his thumb.

We don’t know if anything is going to be okay. We don’t even know if this could turn out the way we want or if Jinyoung and I would find what we’re hoping to find. I don’t need him to fix me. He cannot whisper the aching in my bones away or lick my wounds to vanish.

Only I can do what I need to do for me, on my own, to live with the scars.

All I know is his kiss, how he says, “I love you” in all the different ways he knows how without making it simple.

All I know is this moment, I cannot say that I don’t remember him when I know this happiness. I know the depth of his love brimming in those glassy eyes that I can’t paint. I know the sound of his laugh as it’s one that’s hard to hear.

After two more rounds in the bathroom, Mark finally decided that it’s time for the two of you to actually get cleaned up. You can barely keep your eyes open as he lathers your back with the shower gel, your hands and forehead leaning against the tiled wall, your wet hair carefully tied into a bun.  He scrubbed your ass and legs where majority of his cum went, since either of you are too impatient to get a new condom from the bedroom.

“Baby, turn around for me.”

“Fuck you.” You spluttered and Mark just giggled heartily, pushing you against his chest softly before proceeding in spreading the soap on your neck, your breasts, and your torso.

“I’m exhausted.  And sore.” You said as he continues washing you, his palms gliding over the front your shaky thighs and legs.

“I know.”

“But it felt good.  I’ve missed you.”  Mark again laughs when you turn your head to kiss the slope of his jaw.  Earlier you were just cursing at him and now you’re being cuddly, placing your hands on top of his that is now circled around your waist.

“I love you.” You kissed his cheek and he grabs the shower head from the rack and began rinsing the suds and bubbles from both of your bodies.

“I love you too, baby girl.”  He presses a lingering kiss on your lips and you closed your eyes, letting Mark hold you and finish cleaning you up.

You two had stayed in the tub for a few more minutes just to relax your sore and slightly tensed muscles.  You are cradled in his arms, your arms wrapped around him and your face at the crook of his neck while you are conveniently settled on his lap, the warm water that surrounds the two of you definitely helps in soothing your stiff and tired bodies.

“You okay baby?”  Mark asks as he rubs soothing circles on your back, slowly lulling you to sleep.  You hummed against his neck and you felt his pillow-like lips dropping a soft kiss on your temple.

Mark helped you out of the tub and the two of you dried and dressed yourselves up before climbing on the bed.  You were out like a light the moment your tired body met the comfy sheets of Mark’s bed. Before you completely succumb to sleep, you felt his lips pressing a lingering kiss on your forehead after murmuring a soft “Good night”.

  You were a little dazed when you were stirred from the sleep the morning after.  You weren’t used to having someone next to you when you sleep, aside from Marika, though that is very rare, your best friend for about 10 years is still not used to a lot of skin ship and physical contact.  Moreover, they are not just sleeping next to you, the other person’s legs are also tangled against your own that you are wondering which legs are yours and their arms are wrapped around your shoulders and waist, respectively, while both of your arms are around the other person’s middle.  Your brain is still catching up on what’s happening really when something in your brain clicked, flashbacks of what happened last night dawned on you full force — which made your head throb just a little but a smile immediately registered on your face when your gaze met a now very familiar neck and upper chest.

Instead of pulling away just like how you pictured you would do when you woke up dazed, you scooted closer to him (if that is even possible considering that you are clinging on to each other like koalas) burying your face further on the crook of his neck, breathing in the man’s musky scent beneath the lavender smell from the shower gel you two had used last night when you showered together.

It was a fantastic feeling, everything that happened between last night and today; waking up in the arms of the man whom you had loved both consciously and unconsciously for the last ten years.  You feel secured, loved, contented, and protected even just being in Mark’s arms on his king-sized bed.  This mix of feelings is something you never thought you would crave for in life, or even imagine if you are honest.  You never thought that it is possible, after all the challenges life had thrown at you over the years, as well as the sickness that has been with you for about a decade.

You pressed a light kiss on Mark’s neck — smiling when you feel him move a bit just to push your closer to his chest, his steady, calming breaths hitting the crown of your head and you bit your lip to stop yourself from giggling too much, you never felt this way before, even with Jinyoung, whom you thought was your first love. He was a good man and you had loved him then, but it was never like this, the passion and love you felt for Mark grew about a thousand times more after you had confessed to him, and you already know that you had loved him more than how you’ve loved Jinyoung before — so you guess that was the difference after all.

You slowly removed pulled your face away from Mark’s neck so that you can look up to him and you smiled dearly.  Mark looks like a kid, adorable and oh-so cute with his brown fringe blocking his forehead and closed eyes, his pillow-like lips jutted out slightly, reminding you of how he looks ten years ago when he appeared on your dream a few weeks back, very youthful and handsome.

It appears that Mark is in a very deep sleep because he didn’t move an inch when you retracted your legs from his, as well as your arm that is underneath his body. You felt a little sad that he didn’t notice, but, at the same time, you were delighted because it means that your boyfriend can get a little more sleep, and you can explore his house and his kitchen to see if you can put something for breakfast.

You continued your slow, cat-like movements as you stepped out of Mark’s bed.  When you’re finally off of it, you quickly looked at Mark and you sighed in relief when he didn’t move an inch.  You stretched your arms above your head before walking towards the direction of his bathroom, wanting to brush your teeth and wash your face.  Mark had given you a spare toothbrush last night and dressed you in some knickers too as well as his t-shirt.  When you asked him why he has knickers with him (with a subtle raise of your eyebrow) he just giggled and showed you the tag of the underwear, telling you that it’s new and he just bought it randomly and out of nowhere when he was thinking of you. You were surprised that it was a perfect fit now that you had woken up and not in a post-coital bliss — smiling once again as you splash some water on your face to remove the suds, wiping your face with the towel before going out of the bathroom.  You shake your head when you find that Mark still hasn’t moved from his previous position, and just walked your way out of the room and down the stairs to his kitchen.

You are surprised when you found out that there are actual edible contents inside Mark’s fridge.  There are eggs, some processed and fresh meat and chicken, even kimchi and vegetables, as well as a variety of drinks from soju, beer, apple juice, sodas, and milk. His kitchen drawers have lots of canned goods and boxes of waffle and pancake mixes; which made you decide to cook pancakes along with eggs and bacon for breakfast.  

It amazed you big time on how easy and natural this all feels — this is the second time you’ve been at Mark’s house but as you move around his kitchen, you felt like you’ve been here for a long time already, going by your instinct on where the pans and cooking utensils are as well as how light and homey it feels especially when you started mixing the ingredients for the pancakes while you thaw the frozen bacon on the sink.

Because of how focused you are with what you’re doing, you didn’t hear voices calling out for you and footsteps nearing the kitchen.

  The very first thing that Mark noticed when he finally woke up that morning is that a certain warmth that he had felt the entire night is missing, along with the wonderful scent of something sweet and floral against his nose.

You’re not next to him on his bed.

Mark sat up abruptly, the sudden force making his sight blurry — but he didn’t pay much attention to it as he scrambled to get off of the bed, panic rising in his chest at the thought of you leaving — he cannot bear for you to leave him this time, not now that he had felt that as though his love towards you had reached something infinitive and non-stop or unchangeable, no, he cannot take it.

“______!” He calls for you as he grabs the first thing that he can get from his closet, luckily, it was a tank top as he storms out of his bedroom.

“Baby? Where are you?”  He puts on his tank top before dragging his feet down the stairs in a lightning speed.  However, he stood to a halt when he heard some clinking of plates and utensils as well as a soft voice humming to the tune of a popular dance song from one of the hottest boy groups in Korea (when he thought about it, it was actually Really, Really by WINNER), making him let out a huge sigh of relief.  He had to steady his wobbly limbs by grabbing on the stair railing, his sudden reaction to your disappearance while he’s slightly light-headed from just waking up brought discomfort on his head, but he is sure that it will be gone in just a few seconds.

When Mark managed to get himself steady, he walks down the stairs languidly, now smelling the wonderful scent of brewing coffee — which made him assume that the love of his life is trying to put up a nice breakfast for him.

Mark smiled even wider when he finally reached the mouth of the kitchen.  Your back is on him as you carefully add water to the huge bowl, stirring it with a small hand mixer which he recognized as something that he got for free when he purchased a whole cooking set years ago. He never thought that he had used it before, which made him even more amused on how you were able to set your hands on it.

Mark doesn’t want you to notice his presence since he wanted to just enjoy the sight of you being overly domestic in his kitchen, in his house, making his heart flutter even more thinking that you are actually there, with him, and even if it’s just less than a day that you two are together, he felt like he’s been dating you for months, and that you belong there, with him, at his house, together.

He leans against the wall on his right to get a better view of you as you continue to mix something in the bowl, which he now assumed to be pancake batter if the box next to you is not enough indication.  In this angle, the counter is not a hindrance so he can see the entirety of you, clad in just his oversized shirt that just reach your mid-thighs, so he has a view of your luscious legs.  Your hair is also tied in a bun and the neckline of the shirt had ridden on your right shoulder, exposing the smooth skin there as well as a little of your back and your nape which is not covered with your hair.

A chill run down Mark’s spine when you accidentally dropped the scissors you are holding, bending over to pick it up from the floor and Mark’s mouth watered at the sight of your behind — wanting nothing more than to run his hands over the soft flesh and to knead them until he’s more than satisfied.  His lewd thoughts were interrupted when you stood up and resumed cutting the plastic wrapper of the bacon so that you can start frying them.

Mark tried to wither his mind from the obscene thoughts that are clouding his foggy brain — though he cannot deny that even though you two had made love multiple times last night, he still had managed to sport a semi-erection just seeing you dressed in his shirt and some panties he bought.  

Maybe he is just hungry, though he is trying so hard to convince himself that it is for food, but his dick is saying otherwise.

  “Ah!” You squealed in surprise when you felt two strong arms circling around your waist from behind — ready to slap the intruder on the face with a spatula but when you felt the person’s chin on your shoulder and the feeling of his soft, plump lips grazing your bare neck, you slapped one his arms that are wrapped around you using the wooden utensil instead.

“You scared me!”  You pouted and Mark smiled against your neck, burying his nose deeper against you before breathing in your scent, which you assumed smelled like a mix of butter, eggs, and some processed meat.

“Good morning baby girl—“  Mark mumbles against your neck as you began to flip the first pancake you had cooked — making you smile when you saw the even light brown color on the top part.

“Good morning to you too, handsome — slept well?”  You asked and you giggled when he nodded against your neck, his hold around your waist getting tighter, showing zero intentions of going away anytime soon.

“Alright — I hope you don’t mind me invading your kitchen, love.  Breakfast will be ready soon, and I think the coffee is ready, will you help yourself in making some coffee, hmm?”  You ran your unoccupied hand on top of his arms dearly as you remove the cooked pancake from the pan and transferring it to the empty porcelain next to the stove.

“I don’t want to move.”  He said as he pulled his face away from your neck before burying his nose on your hair. “I want to stay here.”  He mumbled against the crown of your head and you laughed as you pour another mixture on the pan.  You also turned off the stove that cooks the bacons — setting them on the other plate with oil drainers.

“You’re such a baby—“  You giggled when Mark tickled your side a bit.  “And don’t do that— I don’t want to ruin my perfect circle-shaped pancake.” You grabbed his hand that tickled you and he laughs against your hair.  He does it again and you let out another sharp giggle.

“Mark!”

“What?” He answered innocently and you rolled your eyes at him.

“Don’t what what me, stop or pull away from me.”  You said and Mark pouted against your nape.

“Sorry — I won’t move.  But give me that perfect circle-shaped pancake.”  He murmurs and you laughed; amused, before nodding.

“Okay baby. You’ll get it.”

  After tons of convincing, you finally had Mark pull away from you to arrange the table and make some coffee while you cook the remaining batter in the bowl. When you put the pancakes, eggs, bacon, and sliced fruits on the table, you smiled when you saw Mark walking across the counter bringing two mugs of steaming coffee.  The table has a small pitcher of water as well and it’s all set.

You two had eaten in silence; the night prior surely made the two of you really starving that no one dared to talk once you had the food inside your mouths.  Mark even choked at one point by trying to eat half of the pancake portion (he grumbled that he’s too hungry so decided to eat it all at once) and you laughed at him while patting his back and refilling his glass with water.

When you’re done, Mark insisted to wash the plates and the pans, which you told him that you can take care of, but he said that you already cooked breakfast so he needs to do the rest.  You sighed in defeat and just pouted, which he kissed away quickly, making you blush before you proceed in wiping the grubs on the table.

Once you’re done, you sat on the counter on the other side of the sink to watch your boyfriend being overly domestic —washing the plates and pans and you definitely didn’t notice how his tank top would showcase his arm muscles whenever he lathers the sponge over the kitchen items.  You are not sure if Mark is doing it on purpose, but he is flexing his back a little too tight for someone who’s just washing plates; his back muscles ripping against the fabric of his thin tank top.  He even lifted his arms and stretched them above his head before turning from side to side…

He is clearly doing it on purpose.

“What a show off.”  You scoffed under your breath as you sway your legs from where they’re hanging off of the counter, and Mark barks a loud laugh, amazed by how you had caught on his act.

“What are you talking about?”  He asks but he was still laughing; his shoulders shaking in an attempt to muffle his laughs and you just roll your eyes dramatically.  Mark finally finished wiping the last plate as he sets it on the counter before making his way towards you.  He immediately settled in between your legs, like he belongs there, before wrapping his arms around your waist.

“Thank you…” He presses a light kiss on your lips and you smiled against his lips.

“What for?”

“For coming back to me.”  He presses his forehead against yours and you smiled as you bump your nose against his. “For trusting me and for forgiving me, for everything, really.”  He chuckles before pulling away, looking at you deeply with his dark, brown eyes.  “You surely had been even more beautiful than before, ______.”  He says with sincerity that made your heart do flips and making your face two shades darker.  Mark noticed your blush because of your proximity so he hugs you tighter against his body.

“So, so beautiful, and pretty, and lovely — very sexy too.”  He pushes on and you snorted, ducking your face to your chest but Mark is quick to lift your already flaming face by your chin to meet his gaze.

“Don’t go shy on me now.”  He kisses your lips and you just hugged him tighter, burying your face against his neck.

“I love you.” You mumbled against the pale skin in front of you and Mark giggles.

“I love you too, ______.”

“You look more handsome when you were a kid though.”  You puffed and Mark made a noise of disagreement.

“Oh really?” He started and you are already slightly shaking from trying to control your laughter.  “Is that the reason why you almost drooled when you saw me naked last night?  And how my muscles look tight when I stretched them earlier?  I saw you — ____, don’t even deny.”  He blew a raspberry at you and you just shake your head, Mark is such an old child, but you find that you don’t mind.  It is funny that you can switch from being two young adults being so in love with each other to two bickering old children in a second.

“Fine. I appreciated your body, but you were the one who drooled when you saw me naked…”  You tilted your head to the side and Mark was lost at the sight of your neck covered in bruises that he caused, making you bite your lip in victory.  Mark gained control of himself by shaking his head and looking elsewhere.

“Whatever.” He grumbles and you laughed before wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling him against you for a sweet, longing kiss, which he returned in no time.  His hands roamed over your bare thighs, snaking them inside your shirt to touch the warm, naked skin of your waist, making you moan against his mouth which he gladly swallowed, your fingers threading on his brown hair before gliding them down to his nape and shoulders.

Mark was first to pull away when you two are running short on oxygen — looking at you as if he’s going to bear holes on you, however, he decided to play a little, trying to hold off the animalistic desire bubbling at the bottom of his stomach. He removes his hands from your waist and you whined at the loss of contact, but he immediately wrapped them around you once again before leaning forward to press a kiss on your nose.

“Did you prepare any dessert for me, baby?”  He smirks as he eyes your face and your exposed neck and cleavage, making his throat dry as he fights the urge to just bury his face there all at once. You shared the same smug smile Mark is wearing as you caught on the invisible hook, line, and sinker.

“It depends on how you like your dessert to be…”  You smiled as you run your fingers through his brown locks; tugging at his follicles softly but enough to make Mark let out small groans, before massaging the back of his neck.  “We have some cookies on the jar to your right…”  You bite your lower lip and Mark desperately wants to do that instead.  “There’s a cake in the refrigerator too?”  You licked your lower lip before accidentally dropping the neckline of your shirt to the side, revealing your collarbone and shoulder as well as the upper part of your breast and if you noticed that Mark’s hold around your waist tightened and his breaths slightly quickened, you didn’t say anything.

“Or…” You leaned forward as you press your chest against Mark’s — causing a groan to bubble out of Mark’s throat at the feeling of your breasts clashing against his clothed chest, his eyes dilated and burning with restrained lust, but he didn’t say anything, waiting for your next move or words as he licks his suddenly dry lips.  You kissed the side of his jaw before trailing more kisses at the side of his face until you reach his ear, whispering in the sultriest and breathless voice you can manage.

“Or you can have me.”

Mark wasn’t able to hold himself back any longer at that statement — immediately cupping your face with his hands and mashing his lips with yours, kissing you fervidly, his tongue finding its way inside your equally eager mouth.  His hands went down to grope your ass through your shirt and knickers, making you squeal against his mouth as he sucks on your tongue before nibbling on your lips until they’re raw, red, and slightly swollen, your grip on his shoulders tight and your nails digging against his skin, adding more fuel to the already burning fire within Mark.

“Damnit baby—“ Mark kisses you again before lifting you off of the counter without pulling his lips away from yours, blindly navigating towards the direction of the living room.  Luckily, you two had managed to get to the living room without bumping into any walls or decorations that might cause some physical damage, though he did make a stop at the hall way to messily make out with you even more, dropping his face your neck to your collarbone, before walking towards the living room once again, stopping when he felt the familiar leather material of the couch against his knees.  

Mark pulls away from the hickey that he is making at the base of your collarbone before setting you down on the couch gently.  Mark takes a moment to admire your flushed face, disheveled hair, as well as your ruined shirt. You put on a sexy smirk when you met Mark’s gaze and he growls with need when you slowly spread your legs, placing your feet flat on the carpet before sliding down the couch a little.

“Fuck—“ Mark quickly pounces on top of you, kissing you for whatever you’re worth, his hands snaking inside your shirt to cup your breasts firmly, his thumbs rubbing your nipples in steadfast, circular motions and all your whines and moans of pleasure are immediately being swallowed by the man above you.

“Fuck!” Mark pulls away from your lips to lift your shirt just enough to free your breasts.  He licks his lips before flashing you a playful grin, ducking his head to enclose one of the hardened nubs inside his hot, wet mouth.

“Mark — fuck!”  The brunette bites and sucks on your nipple hungrily while the other one is being massaged and fondled with equal intensity and you can feel your wetness soaking your knickers and you’re dying to have some friction against your center, so you arch your back and grinded against Mark’s crotch, making you wail when you felt his hard on against the inside of your thigh.

“You’re so hard, Mark.”  You moaned when Mark switched sides, sucking on your other nub so, so hard making your eyes roll at the back of your head while his hips started to meet your not-so-subtle grinds, dry humping you while he continues to suck on your nipple like a hungry baby.

Mark pulls away from your swollen breasts and he smiles as breathes in your wrecked from beneath him as he grinds against your core once more, making you bite your lower lip and press your center closer to his.  He detaches his hips from yours to lean on his knee at the edge of the couch, and he chuckles when you whimpered at the loss of contact.  He kisses the middle of your chest before trailing more kisses downwards to your torso.

“Patience, baby girl.”  He nibbles at the skin of your stomach before kissing lower and lower until he reaches the waistband of your knickers.  He presses a wet kiss where your skin met the waistband and you shivered with want, your hand immediately flying to his hair.  He licks his lips when he saw a patch of wetness against the center of your knickers and he rubs his thumb over it, making you sob when the pad of his finger brushed against your clothed clit.

“You’re so fucking wet, baby…”  Mark groans as he continues to rub you through your knickers.

“Mark — please.”  You are grinding against his thumb earnestly and Mark smirks but he pulls his finger away after leaving a few more fleeing touches.  You are about to protest and question why he stopped but it was gone immediately when Mark takes your knickers off — sliding it down your legs before grabbing your arms to heave you in a sitting position.

“Turn around for me, baby girl.”  He mumbles and you obliged quickly, turning around and kneeling on the couch, separating your legs as far as you can, and pressing your knees on the back of the couch.  You mewled when your sensitive nipples hit the cold, smooth surface of the furniture, which only heightened when Mark suddenly grabs your ass, kneading the globes of muscle and he groans when he sees you squirm at the touch.  His hands went down a little further until he reaches your inner thighs, pushing your folds further apart, which made him sigh and curse at the sight of your overly wet core right in front of him.

“You’re dripping so, so much¸ baby girl.”  He gulps heavily upon seeing your pink twitch when his hot breaths grazes it, along with your juices that are dripping down your thighs.  Without hesitation, he sticks his tongue out and lapped up the juices that run down your thighs up to where the actual source of the sweet liquid is.

“You’re so sweet…”  He licks your hole languidly before delivering a soft suck on your lower lips. “So fucking sweet…”

“M-Mark…” You moaned aloud when Mark wraps both of his arms around your thighs before burying his face on your dripping folds, placing his mouth on top of your throbbing clit before delivering hard, fast, and wet suctions on the bundle of nerves — causing your hips to grind against his mouth at their own accord.

“S-shit!” Your hand flew behind you to settle on top of Mark’s head, craning your head back to meet the hungry and dark look on Mark’s eyes as he continues to suck on your clit.  “Ri-right there… Holy shit.”  Your head fell back when Mark circled your clit with his tongue, before running the soft muscle up and down your folds, nipping at your inner lips before dragging his tongue from your wet hole and back up to your clit again, his nose prodding your entrance and it is just too much to take all at once.

“M-Mark… Oh my God, Mark…”  Mark smirks against your center before resuming on sucking your clit harshly, the wet sounds of his filthy mouth devouring your clit ringing against your ears and he was becoming even more aroused with the sounds of pleasure you’re letting out from the back of your throat.

“FUCK!” Mark bites on your sensitive clit before sucking on it again, this time, he didn’t hold back, he suck harder and harder, your thighs and legs shaking against his arms at the intensity of his suctions and slurps and you tried to press your legs together but Mark’s hold around thighs disables you from moving, he even tightened his hold to tell you wordlessly to just take it.

“I’m cumming, oh my God Mark please don’t st—“  A screamed ripped out of your throat when your orgasm suddenly hit you out of nowhere, your insides releasing waves and waves of hot, white pleasure as Mark continues to suck your pulsating clit, adding his tongue to the mix by rolling it against the bundle of nerves alternately, heightening your already top of the notch peak.  You buried your face against the back of the couch as Mark continues the harsh movements of his tongue and lips.

“Goddamnit — MARK — let me ride this out, holy fuck!” Mark didn’t stop licking your clit as you try to wiggle your hips to avoid his mouth, as you let out uneven, loud breaths and moans, his continued assault on your sensitive clit making your whole body burn as if you’re caught in a huge wild fire.  Your toes are curling against the sole of your feet and your nails are scratching the expensive leather of the couch, but you or Mark do not give a single shit as he continues eat you out while you’re still climaxing.  The wet, slurping sounds of his mouth and tongue lapping up your center and your juices as well as your moans and cries of pleasure are the only sounds you can hear — and it seems to be the same with Mark because you can feel him humming against you while he continues to devour your dripping center.

“Pl—“ You bit your lip so hard and leaned your forehead against the leather material in front you when Mark inserted his tongue inside your hole, swirling and circling his tongue inside you before he started fucking you with it — moving the wet muscle in and out of your hole and he groans against you when you unconsciously moved your hips back to meet his thrusts.

“Holy shi—“ Two of Mark’s fingers were suddenly on top of your engorged clit, flicking and rubbing the bundle of nerves in hard, tight, and small circles — causing your knees and legs to buckle heavily, your hands gripping the leather couch so tight that your knuckles had turn white.  It also didn’t help that Mark had buried his tongue and face deeper into you; his tongue hitting a hidden nerve inside you and in just a few more thrusts of his tongue into that spot, along with the non-stop movements of his fingers on your clit, you came once again, your orgasm eating your insides up; your whole body writhing and trembling densely, streaks of white, hot pleasure coursing through every nerve in your body.

“Fuck—“ Mark finally pulls his mouth away from your still pulsating lips, his arm wrapping around you since your wobbly legs proved to be unreliable at this state.  He kisses both of your ass cheeks before pulling your shirt up and kissing your spine, helping your still quaking body relax by massaging your sides.

“That was so hot…”  Mark kisses your exposed nape before chuckling against your neck.  “That was the best dessert ever.” You can’t help but blush at his words and you let out a small laugh when Mark hugs you from behind as you try to catch your breath and come down from your high.

“Damn it.” You chuckled and Mark smirks against your neck.

“I know I’m good…”  He kisses your temple and you laughed before playfully slapping his arm.  Since Mark had made you feel so, so good, you thought that you need to return the favor.  You turn around slowly before sitting on the couch comfortably while Mark is still standing in front of you.  You flashed him a wicked smile — making Mark raise his eyebrows at you. All of a sudden, you pulled his arm so that he sits next to you before standing up and kneeling in front of him.

“Now…” You ran your fingers on top of Mark’s thighs before reaching the band of his sweatpants and boxers, hooking your fingers inside before slowly pulling them down his legs; freeing the rigid muscle from its restraints, making you lick your lips before looking up to your lover.

“It’s time for my dessert.”

You jumped at the sudden intrusion and looked up at the stranger. The adorable smile caught your eye first. His eyes were kind and crinkled when his grin widened. You instantly liked him.

“Thanks, I guess.” You said as you put your book down and gave him some more attention.

He wasn’t fazed by your dry reply and held out his hand, smile still shining on his face, “My name is Jinyoung.”

You took his hand in a strong shake, “Y/N.”

You looked down at your hands which were still holding each other and blushed. You gently let go of his hand and once he noticed he blushed as well. He cleared his throat and smiled again.

“Well, I actually came up to ask you something.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, “Go on.”

“Will you help me choose a book?” He asked, “You see, I want to read but I have no idea what and my friends don’t really read so they can’t help and-“

“Stop!” You laughed, “Sure, I’d love to help. Just stop babbling.”

Jinyoung grinned and followed you deeper into the shop. The lights were dim and made the shop seem homely. The shelves went on and on, filled with many different types of books. You loved working here. It was always so peaceful and the customers were intellects or readers; your type of people. You looked sideways at the man who was browsing the shelves next to you.

He really didn’t strike you as the usual type. He seemed quite the opposite actually. He had good fashion sense and his attitude was quite extroverted. Jinyoung really didn’t seem like the kind of guy that would go into a dingy bookshop on a Saturday afternoon. He seemed like the type to be going on dates or out with his friends. Not hanging out in a bookstore with the nerdy cashier.

You suddenly felt a little uncomfortable with the situation. You wrapped your jacket closer around you and peered into the dark corners of the store.

“Are you alright?” Jinyoung asked.

You blushed and stopped staring at the darkness behind the armchair in front of you. You chuckled nervously and held onto your shawl. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

Jinyoung stared at you, “You don’t seem fine. What’s up?”

You realised then that Jinyoung wasn’t making you feel uncomfortable. You felt instantly at ease with him. It was just the unknown reason as to why he was here. The uncertainty was clawing at you, questions bubbling at you lips. They wanted to escape but you didn’t want to freak him out.

You coughed and moved away from Jinyoung slightly, “Nothing, honestly. Have you seen a book you like yet?”

The question thankfully diverted his attention and he looked down at the book in his hands, “To be honest, I like older books. Like second-hand ones? I can tell how good they are by the dog-eared edges because that means they’ve been read more than once.” He looked at you and blushed once he finished talking, “God, you probably think I’m crazy now.”

“Not at all. I actually think the same way.” You relaxed a little more at Jinyoung’s honesty. You were being silly. There was nothing to be wary of. “Follow me. We have the older books upstairs.”

Jinyoung looked around, “There’s another floor? But I don’t see any stairs.”

You laughed and moved your way towards the back of the shop, “When I say upstairs it’s more like our staff room.”

“Am I allowed up there?” He asked.

You took a moment to think about how annoyed your boss would be to know that a customer was allowed to look around your staff room, “Yeah, it’s totally fine! Follow me.”

You walked to the end of the store where some of the lights flickered with misuse and the wallpaper was slowly peeling away from the tops of the walls. You felt a little bit self-conscious of letting the immaculately put-together Jinyoung see your old crumbling store but one look at his face told you that he obviously appreciated the lived-in cosiness that the store offered.

You pushed the heavy green curtain aside to reveal a door. You held open both to let Jinyoung through before closing the door and letting the curtain fall behind you. At the top of a flight of stairs the whole second floor was waiting. The large windows allowed light to soak into the open plan room. Many sofas and armchairs filled the room along with several desks and many, many bookcases.

“Wow, this is like a book lover’s paradise!” He said in awe as he took in his surroundings.

You smiled softly, “Yeah, something like that.”

Jinyoung mindlessly wandered over to the crammed shelves and lightly ran the tip of his finger along the mismatched spines that sat there. You just stood by quietly and watched him. After reading for such a long time you couldn’t help but see people as complex characters with their own backstories, dreams, fantasies and fates which played out in various ways. Sometimes they ended in tragedy, sometimes happiness, sometimes a mixture of both. As you stood there taking in Jinyoung and his mannerisms you wondered which end Jinyoung would have.

“This one! I haven’t read T.S. Elliot in a long time.” Jinyoung said as he plucked a book from one of the shelves.

You moved closer and read the title over his shoulder, “An excellent choice.”

He grinned at you and for a moment you were stunned at how radiant he was. It seemed like he warmed and lightened the whole dingy shop just by being present. Once again you shied away from him and wrapped your jacket around you for comfort. It was a habit that you had picked up when you were a youngster and it had stuck with you. It made you feel safe, coddled in familiarity.

“Let’s go back downstairs and I’ll ring that up for you.” You said in what you hoped was a stable and professional voice.

Jinyoung followed you quietly back down into the main part of the shop and paid for the book he picked up. The whole interaction was silent, you didn’t feel like talking much as you were too busy lost in your thoughts.

You gave Jinyoung his book, wrapped and placed in a waterproof bag to protect it from the weather outside and turned back to your coffee which, to your dismay, was cold. You frowned delicately once your fingers touched the frigid cup and pushed it away.

“Y/N?”

You looked up with mild surprise to see Jinyoung loitering in the entryway of the shop. He clutched the bag in his hand awkwardly and seemed unsure of himself. You were intrigued in the change of character and smiled to indicate that you were listening.

“Um, how often do you work here? I mean… do you work Saturdays every week or is it the weekend or various hours… What I mean to say is… um…” A light blush appeared on Jinyoung’s cheeks and his ear began to glow red. He took a deep breath in and out before looking you in the eye with a glint of determination, “Will I see you again if I keep coming here at this time?”

Now it was your turn to blush and you turned away in an attempt to stop Jinyoung from seeing. You weren’t used to people as attractive as Jinyoung being interested in you.

“Um, yes. I work every Saturday, open ‘til close.” You said as you turned back but still avoiding his eye.

In your peripheral you saw Jinyoung smile brightly before bidding you goodbye and walking off down the street with a significant bounce in his step.

You sat at the register for a good while, taking in the silence that was once again starting to envelope the shop in its comforting embrace and sorting through what had just happened so that you could make sense of it. Numbly, you took the cup you had pushed away and walked to the kitchenette to wash the cup and brew yourself more coffee.

Only once you sat down again did you allow yourself to celebrate with a squeal and beaming smile.

He’s there. He’s there by your kitchen counter, so out of place in a hoodie too thin for the winter he surely encountered upon landing.

He’s texting when he fully comes into view and you wonder briefly (and bitterly) if it’s his girlfriend he’s messaging. When he puts down his phone, the surprise is quite evident in his voice when he finally says something.

“...what are you doing home?”

You realize it’s a Saturday morning and you usually have a shift at the hospital on Saturdays.

But then you remember you were off today and had dragged Youngjae for drinks last night because of it.

“I’m off,” you reply, staring at him.

He’s there, finally home after months.

Like his voice on the phone, he seemed the same but different.

Hair slightly less red with more tones of brown, it’s pushed back haphazardly like he had been running his hands through it. He seems taller but he’s wearing his favorite black jeans you knew he bought because of that very fact. His hoodie is pulled over his hands but you can tell they’re fists, clenched tightly like his jaw as you simply look at each other.

You find your voice moments later and you’re thankful it’s steady.

“Where the hell have you been?”

His eyes widen but your voice rises, like the anger building within you at the sight of him, cutting off his response.

“Where...the hell...have you been?”

He doesn’t say anything yet, brows drawn together as if he’s confused as to why you’re so angry.

“Taiwan. I’ve been visiting my family. You know that.”

You scoff, “Yes, yes in fact. I’m very aware you were visiting your family. What I’m not really understanding is why you’ve been gone so long and why in the world you haven’t replied to any of my texts or calls! I left dozens of voicemails! My fingers have almost fallen off from the paragraphs I’ve typed out! So try again with that vague ass answer! Where the hell have you been?”

He’s looking at you, this odd look you’ve never seen on his face before, in all the time you’ve known each other. 

It’s like he’s assessing you, like he’s trying to make a calculated decision instead of saying what’s actually on his mind.

He looks exasperated. Tired. A little angry.

You don’t move, won’t move, until he gives you answer that explains it all.

There’s an edge to his voice when his reply finally fills the air.

“Why the fuck would it matter to you?”

If it was possible for time to stop, this would be that moment. You’re frozen, limbs stiff as his face forms into an irritation never once directed at you. 

“Why would it matter,” you ask, unbelieving, “why would it matter. That’s a pretty damn good question. Why would it? Why the fuck would it when my best friend disappeared? He says he’s going on vacation but doesn’t call. Doesn’t let me know he’s at least safe and having a good time. I have to keep up with him on social media, where he suddenly decided to post picture after picture or a video where he’s diving off a freaking cliff into the water. Why would it matter where he’s been when we’ve been attached at the hip for more than two decades? I’ve given him every detail of my life, he’s been with me for most of it. But I guess I don’t deserve the same thing. So you’re right, why would it matter to me at all?”

That uneasy feeling of emptiness had returned, though you thought it would dissipate once he had come back. His cold demeanor surprised and angered you -- but you felt pain in your heart more than anything else.

You loved him. But it seemed that unrevealed fact would be unimportant to him.

You turn to head back into your room, you had no more energy to ask him to leave, but his voice halts you.

“I came back here because I figured you’d be at Park Jinyoung’s place.”

You turn, “Why would I be at Jinyoung-ah’s?”

His name, rolling off your tongue without the formalities, caused his gaze to harden. “Why wouldn’t you be staying with your boyfriend?”

“Boyfriend? Boyfriend...what are you talking about Mark? Jinyoung and I have been broken up for like...a month. You’d know that if you returned my calls. I left you a sad voicemail telling you all about it -- I was ugly crying, Youngjae couldn’t stop laughing at me in between binge watching netflix and eating our weight in ice cream.”

He frowns, “Youngjae? Choi Youngjae? Isn’t that the sunshine child you went out with after the fashion model?”

“Yes, that’s him. We had decided before our date even ended that we wanted to try being friends instead. He got back together with his girlfriend and he’s like -- my favorite dongsaeng. Once again, you’d know this if you were around.”

The lines on his forehead deepen and he starts to look more and more like his father as the seconds pass. He seems too far in thought and you’re wondering what’s going on in his mind.

You couldn’t seem to tell this time around.

“I never got any calls. I never got any of your texts.”

Well, that’s something you weren’t expecting.

“What do you mean? I know your number by heart, there’s no way I would’ve dialed it wrong.”

He scratches at the nape of his neck, that hard look on his face gone and replaced with what looks like embarrassment. “When I left for Taiwan, I was upset. The trip was kind of random but mom had been begging me to visit so I thought it’d be the perfect time to get away. When I landed, I tried to just be in the moment and have fun, go out and just have adventures. At first, I was only going to be gone for a week. And then it turned into two weeks which turned into two months and I just never booked a ticket home. Grace...she had a friend that was always over at the house, just hanging out. For awhile, she’d always ask to see my phone -- claimed hers sucked and mine had a better camera or some shit. I didn’t think much about it until it started becoming more of a habit. I thought it was weird and started denying her, leaving it charging in my room under my pillow. She stopped bothering me but...Y/N. I think...I think she might’ve deleted all your voicemails. Your texts. Because I never got one. Not a single one. And I thought you were having such a swell time being Park Jinyoung’s girlfriend that you didn’t have time for me anymore.”

There was only one question on your mind at that moment.

“That girl. She’s...she’s not your girlfriend?”

His eyes widen, voice rising, “What? What, no! Absolutely not, who told you that?”

Your head is spinning, “She did. I had -- I had tried to go out with someone after Jinyoung. And when that didn’t work out, I tried to call you. Again. And in the middle of the voicemail, she picked up. She said you -- she said you deleted everything, never listened to my messages or read my texts. She said I was bothering you, that my persistence was starting to annoy you. And when I asked who she was, she said she was your girlfriend. And then I heard you. I heard you Mark. You asked who it was on the phone and she answered --”

“...wrong number. I remember. When she hung up, I was upset that she was fiddling with my phone again. That...that was you?”

You nod, “That was me. And ohmygod Mark, I felt so broken after that. I felt like I didn’t matter to you and that you had forgotten about me. That you were avoiding me and that’s why you didn’t want to come so I made Youngjae go to a bar with me and then I got drunk and Jaebum nice enough to --”

“Jaebum?”

You chuckle, “A friend of Youngjae’s who, like I was saying, was kind enough to take me home. Not a new boyfriend, since I know that’s what you’re thinking.”

His reply is a grumble, “That’s not what I was thinking.”

“It was and you know it.”

He smiles, and oh how you missed the sight of it. His eyes remain trained on the floor, as if he was afraid to look at you. You can only shuffle in your spot, a thousand burning questions in the back of your mind.

You don’t know where to start.

Scratch that, yes you do.

“Why were you upset when you left for Taiwan? After my “date” with Youngjae, I had come to find your note on my fridge. And then the next day, you were gone. You seemed...kind of upset about my date with him. And you seemed upset about Jinyoung. Then, just now, irritation because of Jaebum. Why? Why does it matter Mark? Why did you leave?”

He screws his eyes shut, as if pained. You wait for his answer, everything has to be on the tables now, and your heart is thudding quickly.

“I was upset because I’m in love with you.”

Again, if time could actually stop, this would’ve been an ample moment.

He continues on, inhaling as if to prepare himself for what happened next. “At first it was Yugyeom. And to be honest, I knew it wouldn’t work out. How could you be with someone that couldn’t drink? You’re almost made up of wine, it’d be impossible. And then there was that snotty kid, Bam whatever. He seemed too high maintenance so again, I wasn’t worried. But you accepted another date, this time with Youngjae. And he seemed nice, nice enough. And I don’t know, I panicked. You were hell bent on keeping an open mind about dating which meant you were gonna keep at it and I didn’t think I could handle watching you go on dates night after night. I didn’t think I could handle you going and then coming home to me. You didn’t belong to me -- and I hated that. Because it’s what I wanted. Call me a coward, sure, but I didn’t make a move. I was too afraid of what would happen if it didn’t work out. I resigned myself to keeping you as a friend instead of anything more. Which didn’t pan out smoothly either.”

He finally met your eyes, “I wanted you, to myself. And I couldn’t sit by and watch you become someone else’s. So I left.” 

“I’m in love with you too, you stupid idiot,” you breathe out.

“Look, I know it’s not -- wait, what?”

You sink to the floor on your knees, emotions finally taking over as you start to sob. 

Everything that had happened, all the pain and the sadness and the confusion, could’ve been avoided if he had simply told you how he felt. The weight of it all crashes down on your and you start to cry even harder. Mark panics, he’s only seen you cry this way a handful of times, and races over, skidding on his knees to bring you into his arms.

“Hey, hey! Why are you crying, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing is wrong,” you wail, “you just love me and I love you and all this has been so fucking stupid!”

You turn in his embrace to loop your arms around his neck, pressing your wet cheeks to the warmth of his neck. He just lets you cry, soothing words in your ear and lips against the top of your head. 

He had done that before, but this time was so different.

When he starts to laugh, sound vibrating through his chest and against the side of your head, you pull away and swipe at your stained face. “What’s so funny?”

He takes the gentler approach, thumbs on your cheeks to wipe away the stray tears. “We are. We’ve spent how many months apart? Me upset because I loved you in secret and you upset because I was upset and avoiding you even though it was all a misunderstanding. These are our lives Y/N, could we be anymore dramatic?”

A laugh bubbles out of you and you throw yourself back into his embrace, “We could be, but let’s not try for another one of these. I missed you, more than I ever thought possible. And I love you, even though it took Youngjae for me to see and accept it.”

“I’ll have to send him a thank you card.” “You can just tell him yourself tomorrow, we have coffee every Sunday morning.”

“..........can I kiss you?” “.........could you please?”

one ceremony and two wedding rings later

Your last first date had been the simplest, since you’ve always liked simple.

Your couch. A movie. Food.

It was all you really needed, nothing more than Mark and a night in.

It was like that even a year later, when you’re deciding what do on the last night of your honeymoon, the quiet water of the beach outside causing your eyes to sway shut. 

Your last first date was your favorite, maybe because the boy next to you made it so.

You’re telling him this one snowy winter after dinner, laughing as you try to put your jacket on around your protruding baby bump while Jackson insists you switch to organic until your daughter is born.

“Leave her be, you’re annoying a pregnant woman,” his fiancée Tiffany had said, helping you with some of the buttons. 

Kimmy, Jaebum’s new girlfriend, can only chuckle as she lays her head on his leather clad shoulder. “He’s only pestering Y/N because still, after all this time, he hasn’t converted the woman he’s going to marry. I don’t know how you two can even stand each other.”

Tiffany is about to argue back, something about being her own woman that can choose her own damn food, but she can only blush when Jackson places a sweet kiss to her cheek, “It’s simple -- I’d give it up for her, she can never leave me, I won’t make it.”

Jaebum makes a vomiting noise before more laughter erupts. “Alright, the gross quota has been filled. Youngjae, I can take you and Tyler back if you’re ready.”

“Thank the heavens, yes please. All these couples are too much.”

Tyler grins, “Is it because we’re extra cute and raise the group’s overall cuteness level?”

Youngjae takes her hand and whispers, “Of course. No one beats us.”

“We heard that,” a scandalized Jackson exclaims.

Mark, simply watching with an amused look on his face, takes your hand as well, “Get home safe guys, we’ll see you soon.”

The snow is heavy when you all separate, the loud conversation dispersing as you grow further apart. Silence falls over you both on the way to the car, breath like smoke in the air as you tuck yourself closer.

“Yah! Park Sooyoung, watch where you’re going!”

A young girl bumps into you and you throw your hands out to steady her. “Are you okay, sweetie?’

When she looks up, it’s a face you recognize, as is the face of the young man growing nearer.

“Jinyoung?”

He stops in front of you, nose a bit red from the cold, a smile on his face.

“Fancy seeing you here, how are you?”

You gesture to your stomach, “Heavy.”

He laughs as an arm loops through his, “You look beautiful either way.”

“Thank you, that’s kind of you.” “Y/N, this is my wife, Shanna. Shan, sweetheart...this is Y/N. An old friend.”

You shake hands before gesturing to Mark. “Mr. and Mrs. Park, this is Mark. My husband. Mark, you know Jinyoung, I’ve mentioned him before.”

“You have, nice to meet you,” he states, extending his gloved hand for Jinyoung to shake.

“And you remember my sister, the little monster.”

You turn towards Sooyoung, a shy smile on her grown up face. “How could I forget my favorite patient? All healthy and absolutely beautiful.”

She giggles, “Thank you unnie.”

You talk for a bit, conversation with Jinyoung always so pleasant (even more so because of Shanna), until it’s too cold for anyone anymore and you go your separate ways with a promise to see each other soon.

It’s once you’re home, warm and feeling content, that Mark asks you a question that makes you laugh.

“Isn’t a little weird how friendly we are with some of the guys you used to date?”

You kiss him gently, fingers laced together with his hand on your stomach.

“They were bad first dates anyway, doesn’t count.” “...but you dated Jinyoung for four months.” “You know I love you more. And let’s face it, you love hanging out with them. Jackson makes you laugh so hard.”

The happy look on his face means you’re right and you’ve won.

“Fine, but don’t tell him that. It’ll be years before I live it down.” “Deal. Now goodnight, my silly husband.”

“Goodnight, my love. Sleep well.”

Silence between you and Mark will always be something that you’d cherish. Not because you don’t like talking or making any sound. You just like it because it’s something that speaks for the both of you together. The silence actually symbolizes yours and his true self. Those silent moments also symbolizes that you two are content regardless if one is talking or not.

But tonight, as he wraps his arms around your waist and nuzzle his face on the crook of your neck, with the soft music playing in the background; you take this chance to speak your thoughts out. Also taking advantage of the silence of others.

You smile as he hums with the melody. The vibrations coming from him warming your heart up.

“Wanna know something?” You whispered all the while caressing the back of his neck.

“Hmm? What is it?”

“This is our first dance, ever,” you disclose for the first time. “Although we attended gatherings like this, we never remained for the dancing part of the night.”

Mark couldn’t help but snicker. He leans closer to your neck, resting his lips on the soft skin. “Then, it makes this more special.”

Your smile never faltered. “Wanna know something more?”

“Why not?” He encouraged, his lips not leaving your skin.

“I love you,” you whisper, but loud enough for him to hear. “I know I’ve told you this countless of times before and I know that you never get tired of it.”

His hold on you tightens and you could feel his growing smile.

“I’m confident in saying this because I’m assured that you feel the same way. You never fail to express through your actions and you never fail to declare through your words. I’m happy that I’m with you. I’m happy that I love you.”

He didn’t reply and he didn’t have to. You’re more than contented with his tight hold and radiating warmth.

The two of you continued swaying with the music and just bask in the shared joy you’re feeling. In the occasion that the presence of a dance floor and mellow music is absent, you’d still remind him that you love him because you want him to be assured that it’s him and no one else.