#kbookshelf

.ᐟજ⁀➴ JISUNG has always known you were pretty—everyone did—he had just never gotten close enough to realize how pretty. That is, until you ask him to teach you how to play guitar. After you had begged him for a week to show you how to play one of your favorite riffs, he finally gave in. It’s casual, and he doesn’t think anything of it, at least not before it’s happening. 

Everything starts off normal, he’s setting the guitar in your lap and pointing to where your fingers should be. He laughs when you can’t seem to get the finger positions right, fussing about how he’s a bad teacher for finding humor in your struggles. 

“Why can’t you just show me how to play it?” You whine, slouching over the instrument. 

Jisung laughs with confusion. “I am showing you?”

You side eye him, pouty and frustrated. “No, like, show me. Move my hands and stuff so I can get the hang of it.”

He says something about you being a lazy learner, and you groan for him to forget about the whole lesson, rolling your eyes as you move to set the guitar down. Waving his hands at you to sit back down, he grins as he pushes the guitar back into your arms. 

“Calm down, I’ll show you, geez.” His giggle continues through his words, and you glare at him playfully, before making room for him to sit behind you on his bed. 

When his arms reach around yours is when he first feels it. A tingle that spreads through him, accompanied by goosebumps that almost make him shiver at your touch. He tries to continue the lesson, but as his face moves closer to yours, and his hands rest atop your own, he can’t ignore the way his heart stutters. He just hopes you can’t feel his chest thumping against your back. 

It doesn’t help when you turn to him, your breath tickling him as you ask him if you’re doing it right, and Jisung realizes just how much your eyes sparkle when you look at him. 

.ᐟજ⁀➴ FELIX is used to being given nicknames. He’s even used to other people being called by his name. So when you call him by a new one, he’s perplexed as to why it has such an effect on him. 

The kitchen is covered in flour, cocoa powder, egg shells, and whatever else he puts in them. He’s no exception to the mess either, his face covered with chocolate smears and puffs of powdered sugar. 

“Well someone is busy.” You joke as you climb to sit on the only clean counter left, swinging your feet off the edge. 

He smiles playfully at your teasing, his hands hanging in the air as he attempts to keep them from touching whatever parts of the kitchen that haven’t been contaminated yet. “I sort of slipped into the ingredients…”

“Ah I see.” You laugh, beckoning him over to you. “That’s why you looked like you got attacked by a bakery.”

He chuckles at that, waddling over to you according to your hand movements. You grab a paper towel, flipping your water bottle over it and lightly wetting the material before you bring it to Felix’s cheek. He watches intently as you do so, a gentle look of contentment gracing his features. 

When you finish wiping the sugary mess off his face, you smile, cupping his head in your hands and squishing him playfully. “There’s my pretty boy, I knew you were somewhere under all that chocolate.”

You release him a few seconds later, pushing him backwards so that he can finish making his disaster of brownies, looking calm as ever. Felix, however, can’t seem to get the ringing of your words out of his head, his eyebrows furrowed as he tries to gauge what this means for him. He’s full of questions now, like how the flutter in his stomach was just because of the brownies, right?

All he knows now, is that he wants you to call him that again. 

.ᐟજ⁀➴ SEUNGMIN finds it all too predictable and cliche that he would eventually fall for you, cringing at himself when it does finally happen. He can’t say he’s excited about it all, but he can’t say he’s upset, either. 

The two of you have a routine. Seungmin waits on your couch to walk you to your favorite coffee shop every day after you get back from work, and he pretends that he doesn’t enjoy the walk or the cafe, knowing he’ll do it again the next day. You’re never more than twenty minutes off schedule, so when it’s been almost an hour since you should have been off work today, he’s confused as to why you haven’t come hopping through your door yet. 

He calls you twice before you answer, when you normally pick up on the second or third ring, and he can’t help the dryness in his throat when he notices the laughter coming from someone in the background of your end. 

“Oh, sorry Min, I’m out with a coworker right now! We’re doing karaoke!” You giggle through the device, sounding like you’re enjoying yourself more than usual. 

Seungmin gulps, his lips pursing as he tries to come up with a response. “Do you want me to save you a cup of coffee anyway? For when you get back?” Is the best he can manage, his voice more stiff than he would like. 

You don’t seem to notice though, laughing at something your coworker says in the background that Seungmin can’t make out. “Huh? Oh—don’t worry about that! I grabbed a cup on the way out of work, so I’ll be fine for today!”

And as much as he doesn’t want it to, that bothers Seungmin for the rest of the day. When he’s at the cafe because he doesn’t know what else to do with his extra time, the waitress asks him where you are, and he has to apologize for the look he gives her. When Hyunjin asks him what’s bothering him, he has to bite his tongue and wave him off. 

Just because Seungmin knows he likes you, doesn’t mean he’s ready to accept it. Not yet, at least. 

.ᐟજ⁀➴ JEONGIN doesn’t quite realize what’s going on until it’s too late. 

He knows he likes being around you, that you make him laugh harder than anyone else, and that he tries to impress you as often as he can. None of that clicks for him, though. 

Even as he’s getting flustered by you calling him a baby, he doesn’t understand why it gets under his skin so much. 

“You know what I mean Jeongin.” You give him an expectant look, laughing airily when he stares back at you with confusion. “Chan and Minho—they’re like, real men already.”

“Am I not a man?” He quirks brow, letting out a dry and slightly irritated breath as he stares at you. 

“I mean, you are but like, you’re more of a guy.” You say, as if that clears anything up for him. 

He gives you an exasperated glare, leaning back on the couch as he tries to decipher just what you mean by that. He was as much of a man as any other male he knew. 

“What I’m trying to say is… you’re still like a baby to me. Like I know you’re a guy and everything, but when I look at you, I still see sixteen year old Jeongin who gave everyone puppy eyes all the time.” You tease, fingers finding his face to pull at his cheek.  

He scoffs at you, smacking your hand away like he always does when you get like this, but he doesn’t know why it stings. Everyone called him a baby, why did you doing it bother him so much?

It’s even worse when he sees how you bite your lip and flutter your lashes at Chan when you ask him to help you with something, and Jeongin subconsciously notices how you never look at him like that, clenching his jaw as he watches hopelessly. 

★𓂃 please consider reblogging and/or commenting, your support means a lot to me <3

a light breeze played with your open hair while your feet dangled lazily, waiting. the sky in front of you must have held a dozen different shades. the sun was setting on the horizon, bathing the city with a warm pinkish glow.

you whipped your head around when you heard the rooftop door open. unfortunately, it caused your hair to end up in your face and your nose crinkled with annoyance. an amused chuckle sounded as the latecomer shut the door behind him.

you brushed the hair away hastily, your time was limited as it was.

“hey,”

your voice was soft, because how could it be anything else when he was there?

“hey, sorry i'm late.”

jungwon’s voice mirrored the softness in yours as he strode over to the ledge you were seated on, opting to lean against it. he was dressed in a loose white t-shirt and distressed straight fit jeans.

“eh, it's fine. whatcha got there?”

you nodded your head towards his concealed hand. jungwon grinned, unsurprised by your quick observation, and dramatically revealed two to-go drinks; a lemon iced tea for you and a strawberry lemonade for himself.

he watched your eyes light up, eyebrows shooting up as you gasped and his grin widened. he handed you your beverage which you gratefully accepted, releasing a content sigh after taking your first sip. jungwon chuckled again at your reaction, sipping his own drink.

“i'm gonna miss this,” he blurted.

you paused, straw midway to your lips, your gaze flitting over to him. you knew what he really meant: you, the time he got to spend with you, and the memories he had made with you. he surveyed the view, his brown hair appearing impossibly soft in the light.

“yeah, me too," voice growing softer still.

then your free hand patted the space on the ledge beside you, inviting him to sit down, and he did. jungwon reached for your hand instinctively, locking your fingers together.

this might be the last time you got to be this close to him.

the realisation weighed on your chest, squeezing the air out. you sipped on your iced tea to ease some of the pain, staring blankly at the sunset in a futile attempt not to get teary-eyed.

you felt his eyes studying you, no doubt trying to commit every miniscule detail to memory. you cleared your throat to speak.

“you're missing the sunset”

“doesn't matter, i've got a better view”

jungwon's voice was a little hoarse, he was trying to keep his emotions at bay as well. you looked at him again and the look in his eyes made you tighten your grip on his hand, heart clenching as he began running his thumb over the back of your palm.

hold it together.

for him.

you drew in a shaky breath, then let your head rest on his shoulder. you were going to make the best of your remaining time together.

; a/n: this was written at like 3am at night so it's not perfect but I hope you like it anyways! i'm supposed to be doing my school projects but eh. i hope you're having a good day/night!!💌

you were staring at the wall of your living room, hugging a cushion to your chest even though it provided little comfort. your phone lay beside you but your lock screen didn't light up with a text or call or anything from sunghoon. the two of you had gotten into a fight that had ended with him walking out to cool off.

when you first started your relationship, you had agreed to make time for each other despite your busy schedules and yet… lately it seemed as though he wasn't even trying. you had started to feel like you weren't a priority to him, like you didn't matter, because that was the message his actions were sending.

you had finally brought it up to him that evening only for him to get defensive and call you needy, and then proceed to slam the door on his way out.

you had slumped on the couch, utterly defeated, and cried every tear you had in you. now, all that remained was numbness, exhaustion, and worst of all, longing.

unable to fight it any longer, you let your eyelids close and retreated to a dreamless slumber.

—

sunghoon opened the door as quietly as he could, careful not to break the silence that hung heavy in the apartment. seeing you curled up on the couch, without the crease between your brows that he had grown so accustomed to of late, something in his chest loosened.

you were there.

he hadn't lost you just yet.

he held onto that sliver of hope, letting himself believe it wasn't too late.

he stood there for a while, then sighed and stalked over to you silently. sunghoon tenderly brushed your hair out of your face and removed the cushion from your arms. he gently slid his arms under your knees and lower back, picking you up bridal style as he carried you to your bedroom.

you made a faint sound and curled closer to him in your sleep, seeking his warmth. sunghoon resisted the urge to coo.

he set you down on your bed and sat on the other side of it, observing the dried tear-stains on your cheeks, your puffy eyes that he knew would be bloodshot if you opened them right now, the red crescent indents littered across your palms from where you had dug your fingernails. he felt like the biggest idiot in the world—no—the universe.

you stirred lightly. he stiffened beside you as you started to speak.

“you know, if you're tired of me-”

a finger pressed on your lips, cutting you off. you opened your eyes just a crack, sunghoon was violently shaking his head, eyes squeezed shut, refusing to even entertain that possibility. he didn't know such thoughts were all you had known for the past few weeks.

“no. never.”

“sunghoon-”

he visibly flinched. his name sounded foreign on your lips after hearing you call him nicknames and sweet terms of endearment, though they may have been silly at times.

“stop. no. i love you, only you, always you.”

he slipped his hand into yours, bringing it up to his lips to press a kiss to your knuckles.

“i'll do a better job of showing it, i promise.”

you nodded. you didn't say it was okay or that you forgave him, because it wasn't, and you didn't, not yet anyway. instead, you patted the pillow beside you, inviting him to lie down, which he did.

; a/n: collective gasp! cinny is alive! who would've thought??

You roll over on the sofa to change the channel to a nice mindless cooking show, something you didn’t have to listen to, only hear. Hmm, sure that made sense. You groan loudly for yourself. You hate being sick.

It’s sundown and you’ve made some ramen you didn’t want and a bottle of water on the coffee table next to the myriad of syrups and pills to combat illness. You are in a blanket-burrito position, comfortable but not happy. You tip your head up but nothing else when the keypad beeps and the door opens unexpectedly.

“Baby, I’m home! Surprise, the schedule finished up earlier than I thought and - oh my! What happened?” He gapes, backpack in one hand, takeout bags in the other.

Seungkwan slings them up on your kitchen bench and wades over to you. The back of his hand presses to your forehead before raking your hair from your face. Instantly you’re in pout-mode. You knew how much of a baby you were when you were sick. If anyone else acted the way you did, you’d have told them to rub some dirt in it and get it together. So you kept quiet over text - it helped his days were so packed to say much.

“Flu. I’ve been sick for like the last 2 or 3 days and I hate it.” You whine, raspy and clogged. “I didn't think you would be coming by. No trouble.”

“Why didn’t you say anything? You know I would have dropped it all to come by to take care of you.” He frowns, cradling your cheek with a smooth palm.

You burrow deeper and shake your head. “You’re busy. I’m being a baby about this.”

His bottom lip juts out and he reaches for you to wrestle you out of your blanket and hold you up by your armpits like a stubborn kitten. “Don’t be silly. I’m never too busy for you, my baby. Don’t try to be some hero and keep quiet about it - don’t hide it.” His scolding, nagging tone softens as your head droops and your eyes turn glassy. “C’mon now, up you get. I’m here now. Let’s take care of you, hmm? Get you in the shower - the steam will help your sinuses.”

He guides you down your own hallway and plops you on the toilet seat with the lid down while he starts up the shower, darting his hand under the spray to test the temperature. You slouch, leaning your head on the bathroom bench unable to combat the weight it adds. You’re just too tired. When he’s satisfied, shaking his fringe from his face he helps you undress and briefly brushes your hair, knowing you prefer to do so to prevent any extra knots when you come out. You whine wordlessly aloud for no reason but discontent and step in. Seungkwan nods resolute, ducking to press a quick kiss to your bare shoulder.

“Okay I’ll come back in with a fresh set of pajamas and we’ll dry your hair too. I’m gonna clean up out here.” He says softly. You turn to protest but he shuts his eyes and tips his chin away from you. “Ah! None of that. Keep the door open in case you feel faint. Let me take care of you, remember?”

He’s right - the steam eases the weight and ache in your face and you even turn the heat up some more to scalding, putting your face directly under to warm and dislodge it further. At one point, he slips back in, laying out a fresh set of towels and your matching Sanrio sweatpants and sweatshirt. Finally you turn the water off and dry off, violently blowing your nose with a frustrated groan. Everything about this sucked. Well, almost everything.

Now he’s back in, with one of your kitchen stools and your hairdryer. He smiles, molten and honeyed.

“Hey baby, feel better?”

Seungkwan’s nagging is over - he seems to have called it off on you in pity.

“Yeah, a bit.”

“Oh good. Sit and we’ll dry your hair. Then it’s soup, medicine and rest.” He’s very no nonsense about it all and you can’t help but roll your eyes and smile.

The warm air is amazing but you’re still pretty much limbless, standing for so long under the shower spray wearing you out. He catches your eye in the mirror and nudges your shoulder to lean back on his hip.

“Rest, lean on me. I’ll work around you.”

So you shut your eyes and droop your cheek to his waiting palm. You wished the hairdryer wasn’t so loud - you really wanted to hear about his day. Really, you just wanted to hear his voice warm, melodic and animated. He could talk about fishing or astrophysics and you’d listen.

When the air is too scalding against your neck and your hair lighter, Seungkwan switches it off. Your cheek is still in his hand and he laughs fondly.

“Hey, do you have the effort to do a little skincare? You’ll break out otherwise.” He says, light as a feather.

You hum and nod again, an effort to sit up properly. “Together?” You pout.

Seungkwan dramatically rolls his eyes. “Oh the effort - of course, honey.”

He leans down over the sink next to you to quickly wash and cleanse his face, getting the concoction and water on his dark shirt in droplets. Then it’s a gentle drip and dab of serum. Night cream, the pads of his fingers sweeping lightly and finally your eye cream, the cool metal roller a soothing massage on your nose bridge and under eye. He’s quick with his, but not haphazard. Every step done with care and precision even as he lets each serum and tonic soak and set. You can’t help but sigh and stare for a little too long, lovingly. You reach to rest your arm across the small of his back over his navy tee, fingers swirling absent patterns over the soft cotton. He perks up at that, twisting to eye you.

“Hmm?”

You shake your head and smile. “Just you.”

Skincare complete, he slides you off the stool to pick it up, following after you back to the sofa.

Most nights, except Thursday, Friday and Saturday, both you and Seungkwan agreed to always eat meals at the dining table. Yours was pissy and small, lacquer dented and scratched - his large and sleek, something befitting the clean, spacious place he and Jeonghan lived in. It was a way to make a little routine and be a bit more put together. But tonight it was sofa-dinner. There was another blanket from your linen cupboard draped over the arm of the sofa. A trash bin, new bottle of water and a myriad of vitamins and medicine on the coffee table. He settles you down and bundles you up in one of your faux-furry throw blankets. 

He frowns and holds up your half a roll of toilet paper. “Why was this on the coffee table?”

You cringe. “I - well I sort of ran out of tissues first day in and couldn’t be bothered going or ordering any more.”

“No wonder your nose is all red! You’re rubbing it raw!” He scolds you. “I’ll get you settled then go to the convenience store.”

You cry out and whine, reaching for him. “I’ll be okay. Just, please stay for a little bit.”

Seungkwan concedes, fussing and wrapping you a little tighter in your throw blanket.

“Fine, but I will be going out soon to get you some fruits and tissues. I pulled that soup out of your freezer since I didn’t know you weren’t well - it’s warming up over your cooktop.” He says soft yet brisk.

You’re back in pout mode and nod. “Thank you, ‘Kwan.”

Again he sighs and squeezes you, dropping a multitude of kisses into your freshly washed hair. You’re more at ease than you have been in days, fuzzy and clean. He reaches for the remote to change it to another food channel, the better of the two for this time of night, instead of the news like usual.

“Take your medicine while I go check on your soup.” Seungkwan murmurs, twirling a strand of your hair as he pulls away.

“Then tell me about your day?” You ask in a small voice.

He stops to turn and smile like you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. A smile so warm and hazy you’re sure it might burn.

“If that’s what you want, of course.”

Your stalker. Has been beneath you this whole time. Tracking your comings and goings so easily - that was how he knew about the company drinks. You feel as if you’ve been doused in slime. The notes and packages of outfits just when you complained you had none.

I can’t wait for you to try it on. Please wear it when you leave.

You scoot back on your butt away from the shards, a choked sob breaking free. It’s been here for months. You let them right in!

You let yourself cry, the pause music in the background, feeling as if the rug has been yanked out from under you.

Then the sun went down and the switch turned itself off after being idle for so long and the silence returned you to yourself. You had evidence now to prosecute. Quietly you put the device on the coffee table and gathered the shards into a plastic bag, then a paper one from your last shopping trip. You grabbed your phone and changed as quietly as you could in your bathroom, nothing out of the question. Then you sat outside your flat in the safety of a bug-free zone and called Seungcheol.

He picked up in two rings. “Miss, it’s your day off. Are you okay?”

His voice is so soft and attentive your chin wobbles. “I- no I’m not. Can you please come to my building? We need to go to the police.”

You can hear rustling and banging. “Why! What happened!”

“I have evidence of my stalker and I want to take it to the police but I…I can’t go alone.”

Then still again. “What? You stay right there - I’ll be less than 10 minutes.”

“I-I’ll meet you out front.” You murmur.

He grunts agreement and his voice gets closer as he tucks his phone to his shoulder.

“Okay. Do you need me to stay on the phone?”

“Oh no, no. I’ll be okay. Please don’t tell anyone though.”

A huff. “Of course not. See you soon, Miss.”

He hangs up and you wade back inside, picking up the bag. You'd put a sweater and scarf over top to hide your shame.

The elevator trip down felt tense and you wished you weren’t lazy and took the stairs. So was waiting in the lobby. Just as the white lights of Seungcheol’s car flashed over the top of the hill -

“Hey, I’ve been calling you. Are you hiding from me?”

A shiver rockets up your spine. A wafer thin smile on your lips as you turn.

“Huh? Have you? I’m sorry I’ve been super busy.” You mumble.

“Too busy for me, your best neighbour?” His easy smile sits funny on his mouth and makes your skin crawl, as does the way his eyes dance.

He’s seen far too much of you and your stomach twists.

“Yes.” You’re a little firmer, sight moving to Cheol’s car starting up the lane.

He peers into your bag and your heart lodges in your throat. “What’s that? Where are you going at this time of night?”

Then his hand is on your shoulder, too heavy. Oh God, oh no!

“I-I a friend’s place. She has a thing and…she likes my scarf. I said - well, I said that…”

The car breaks yanks to a stop and Seungcheol comes out flying, brow creased. You surge for him.

“Hey, hey, are you alright?”

You make a negative noise, mouth pressed shut. His arm curls around your shoulder but you lead him to the boot of the car. Yunho, chases after.

“Hey, did you just lie to me?” His voice is stern but shrill.

“Back off. We’re busy.” Is all Seungcheol says over your shoulder.

“No, no I’m not finished. You avoid me and now you’re lying. Where is our friendship, huh? Was it all shit to you?”

You drop the bag in the boot, eyes screwed shut. But you can hear his breath and see the beep of the recording light in your mind and you see red. You break free of Seungcheol and spin around.

“YES! Yes it is! Because you’re my stalker and you lied to me! You-you’ve been listening and recording me and creeping me the hell out ever since I moved in. Leave me alone!” You scream.

“He’s your stalker.” Seungcheol’s voice is a deep growl.

Yunho goes white then red and you’ve never seen a face so grotesque.

“You’re a lying, stuck up bitch! Some CEO bullshit when really you could have had it easy with me. I gave you so much and you gave me nothing! Didn’t you want me so bad you’d crawl? I heard you!”

A bucket of cold water. That wasn’t about him at all. That was about…

“Fuck off. Get out of here before you lose an eye.”

Seungcheol’s hand is splayed out behind him to protect you and you can barely see over his shoulders, a black cotton wall. Your eyes prickle and you tip up your head to stem the tears.

Seungcheol surrounds you with his body and that soft spiced pine scent you would sink into. He murmurs and hums, gently swaying the two of you. Your face is buried so deeply in his chest you can’t see any light.

“Shhh, it’s okay. He’s gone. You’re safe.” He says, lips in your hair.

You twist your fists into the fabric of his shirt. “God, it’s been horrible.”

“I’m sorry. Come on, let’s get this to the station.” He murmurs.

Seungcheol shuts the trunk and guides you to the passenger side, even going as far as buckling you in, smoothing your pants over your knee. He gets in next and it’s a quiet trip to the police station, seeing as he doesn’t want to push you and you’re not up for giving any info.

He’s such a gentleman and a pillar in your figurative storm, sticking with you the whole time you give the broken ornament and your statement. He only moves twice - once for the toilet and another to get you a crappy hot chocolate from their self-serve machine, and that was only because you tucked your fingers into your sleeves and badly buried a shiver from the barren cold of the station. The detective takes both the camera and listening device away for any assets retrieval, leaving you at the desk.

“Hey.” He’s soft and you turn.

“Yeah?”

“You’re doing great, you know. It’ll be over before you know it.” He continues.

There is a respectable distance between the two of you but you miss him. You need warmth that was human and safe. So you reach for him and grab his free hand, holding it between both of yours, squeezing it briefly before moving it to your lap.

“I just…I don’t know what to do next. I really loved my place but I can’t stand the idea of being anywhere near him any longer.” You sigh.

His hand squeezes back in return. “Don’t you worry - that’s my job now, as your assistant. We’ll call Cully after this and put you up there with her for the night. I’ll find a new place with as much security as you could want and by next week it will be a fresh start.”

As your assistant. You wanted more. But propriety said no. Your position and pay check said no. Your drunken confession as you burst into your apartment said yes. You bite your lip and nod. You didn’t like feeling so powerless. You were the CEO of Helios Construction for goodness sake, leading corporate construction in South Korea. You were supposed to be strong and dauntless. Instead you were meek sitting in a cold unforgiving police station clutching Seungcheol’s hand like it was the only thing tethering you to the earth.

“I- yeah. Sounds like a plan. Thank you, Se-Cheol.”