#l.ty

the rain picks up, drenching the street in a sheen of wet reflection, and you can hear the quiet rush of water running along the sidewalk. you keep your eyes focused on the ground, unwilling to meet his gaze. taeyong’s silence presses against you, heavy with unspoken things, until he finally steps forward.

“do you think i’m going to keep waiting around for you?” his voice is steady, but there’s an edge to it now, a quiet frustration that you haven’t heard before. “because i can’t. i won’t. i can’t keep giving you pieces of myself only to watch you pull away when it gets real.”

you blink rapidly, trying to ignore the sharp sting in your chest. the words feel too raw, too honest. you try to brush it off, but it’s there—his confession hanging between you, and you can’t erase it.

“i never asked you to wait,” you murmur, voice cracking despite yourself. “this was never supposed to be anything more. i told you that.”

his laugh is dry and humorless, the sound a harsh contrast to the soft patter of the rain. he runs a hand through his wet hair, clearly frustrated, but there’s a vulnerability in his gaze that cuts through the anger.

“you’re right. you told me it wasn’t supposed to be anything. but that doesn’t mean i’m okay with it. i’ve been patient, i’ve been there when you needed me, and i tried to respect your space. but you can’t keep pushing me away without expecting me to eventually walk away too.”

he pauses, letting the words sink in, and when he speaks again, his tone softens, though the firmness remains. “you don’t get to pull me in and then act like it was nothing. like it doesn’t matter to you. it does matter to me. and if that’s something you can’t handle, then i can’t keep doing this. i can’t keep waiting around for you to change your mind. i’m not going to keep holding onto something that isn’t real to you.”

there’s a long silence between you two, the rain drenching everything around you in a haze. you feel like you’re standing in a storm—both literal and emotional. his words are final, not harsh, but certain. like he’s finally come to a decision he’s been avoiding.

“you have to choose, y/n. whether this is worth it or not. whether i’m worth it. because i can’t keep chasing after you while you run in the other direction. and i’m not going to wait around for you to decide if you want me.”

he takes a deep breath, eyes locking with yours, holding your gaze steady as though searching for something. “maybe i’m not the one you need. maybe i’m not the one who can make you stop running. but if you need space, if you need time, you need to say it. because i need to know if it’s worth sticking around to find out. or if i should just let go.”

his words hang in the air, heavy and sharp, cutting through the space between you both. you know he’s serious, and for the first time, you realize how much he’s been holding in. how much he’s been willing to give to something that you’ve been unwilling to truly take.

you swallow hard, unsure of how to respond. the reality of the situation is pressing down on you, and you can’t pretend anymore. he’s not asking you to give him all of yourself. he’s asking you to be honest. and maybe that’s what scares you the most. the honesty of it all, the vulnerability, and the fear of what it would mean if you let yourself need him.

the rain falls harder now, but you don’t move. you can feel the weight of the decision pushing down on you, the weight of his quiet but unwavering stance, and the silent question in his eyes. do you let him stay, or walk away?

—

the rain continued to fall heavily, soaking through your clothes, a chill creeping into your bones. the world around you is blurred, a mix of gray and shadows, but in this moment, everything seems to center on taeyong. his gaze is unwavering, though you can see the storm inside him—a turmoil that mirrors the storm above.

his lips are pressed in a tight line, his chest rising and falling with each breath. you want to look away, to avoid the weight of his stare, but something about the way he holds himself forces you to stay grounded in the moment. you try to swallow the lump in your throat, but it feels impossible. every word he’s said cuts deeper than you expected, and you can’t help but feel it all. his frustration, his quiet pain, the battle he’s been fighting with himself.

“i can’t keep doing this.” the words are quiet but firm, and they cut through the thick air between you. “i’m not asking for everything. i’m just… asking you to let me know if this—whatever this is—is worth holding onto. or if it’s just me fooling myself. because i’m done pretending i’m okay with how things are.”

your fingers tremble slightly at your sides, but you don’t move. you can’t bring yourself to speak yet, not with the sudden weight of everything crashing down on you. the pressure is unbearable, suffocating even.

“you don’t get it,” you whisper finally, though your voice is small. “i don’t know how to do this… how to be what you need.”

he takes a step closer, his eyes softening just a fraction. “i don’t need anything from you that you’re not ready to give. i just need you to be honest with me. are you going to keep running, or are you going to let me in?” his voice is steady, but there’s a quiet desperation now, an unspoken plea beneath the surface.

a shudder runs through you, not from the cold, but from the fear of it all. the fear of admitting that you’ve let someone this close, that you’re not sure you’re capable of giving back what he’s offering. you’ve been afraid of what it would mean if you did. but standing here, with him so close, with his words echoing in the silence, you can’t ignore it any longer.

“i don’t know how to let go of everything i’ve been guarding,” you murmur, barely audible above the sound of the rain. “i’ve never let anyone in like this. i don’t know how.”

for the briefest moment, his expression softens, and you think you see something—understanding, maybe even a touch of sympathy. but it fades quickly, replaced by the guarded resolve that’s taken its place.

“i get it,” he says, his voice gentle now, almost like he’s trying to soothe you. “but you can’t keep holding onto that forever, y/n. not when there’s something between us. you don’t get to ask for me to keep waiting while you stay in this place where nothing can happen. you can’t shut me out completely and expect me to just be fine with it. i won’t be. not anymore.”

the words hit like a punch to the gut. you feel like you’ve been standing in this downpour forever, but the tension between you two feels like it’s grown years older in mere seconds. he’s laid it all out, his heart in the open, and it’s terrifying in a way you can’t quite explain. the rain is getting harder, and it’s starting to feel like it’s pressing down on you both, filling every silence, every space, with its relentless rhythm.

“i’m not asking for you to have all the answers right now,” he continues, his voice quiet but resolute. “but i need to know if you’re still willing to try. because i’m not going to waste my time waiting for something that you’re not ready to give.” he inhales sharply, the words spilling out before he can stop them. “i’m not asking you to love me, y/n. not yet. but i need to know if you’re willing to take a step towards me. i need to know if you’re still here, or if this is where we end.”

the silence that follows is deafening. you try to hold onto something, anything—an excuse, a reason not to answer, but the words feel stuck in your throat. your chest tightens, and you want to say something, but nothing seems enough. nothing seems right.

taeyong shifts his weight, a quiet sigh escaping him as he rubs his hand across his face, pushing back the frustration threatening to overtake him. his shoulders slump, just slightly, and you know he’s fighting a battle of his own. his eyes flicker back to yours, and this time, there’s no anger, no harshness. just that quiet, searching look—the look of someone who’s giving everything but doesn’t know if it will be enough.

you want to say something, but you can’t bring yourself to do it. the storm inside you feels even more intense now, swirling in your chest, and you don’t know what to do with it. your heart is racing, and yet, there’s a part of you that feels like you’re still frozen, unsure of what comes next.

the rain continues to pour down, the world around you turning into nothing more than a blur of water and sound. you’re not sure how long you stand there, trapped between your own hesitation and taeyong’s quiet resolve, but the tension is thick—unavoidable, suffocating.

and still, you say nothing.

—

the rain is relentless now, your clothes now clinging to your skin like a second weight you can’t shake off. it makes it harder to speak, harder to breathe, but the way taeyong is looking at you—the way he’s standing there, waiting for something.

but your silence stretches too long. his jaw tenses, and his hands curl into fists at his sides before he exhales sharply.

“i get it,” he murmurs, shaking his head. “that’s my answer, isn’t it?”

“no—” you step forward, but he’s already turning away, the rain blurring the edges of his figure.

he’s leaving.

panic flares in your chest, drowning out every hesitation that’s kept you from speaking until now.

“taeyong.”

your voice wavers, barely cutting through the storm, but it’s enough to make him stop. his shoulders stiffen, and for a moment, he doesn’t turn back. you can’t see his face, can’t tell if he’s giving you a last chance or if he’s already decided that this is it.

the rain pounds against the pavement between you, filling the space where words should be. your pulse is hammering. you don’t know if you can say it, don’t know if he’ll even believe you if you do.

but you have to try.

“i love you,” you say, the words spilling out, rough and unsteady.

taeyong turns then, slowly, his expression unreadable beneath the streaks of rain sliding down his face. his dark eyes search yours, but he doesn’t move toward you. “then why do you keep pushing me away?” his voice is quiet, but it cuts through everything. “why do you act like i’m someone you have to be scared of?”

your throat tightens. “because i am scared.”

something flickers across his face, but he doesn’t interrupt.

you swallow hard, forcing yourself to keep going. “i’m scared because i love you, and the last time i loved someone, they broke me.” your voice shakes, your heart beating so fast it physically hurts. “and i don’t know how to trust that you won’t do the same.”

the confession leaves you breathless, like you’ve just opened a wound you spent years trying to patch up. you don’t know what to expect, but taeyong doesn’t look away. he’s fully focused on you, rain dripping from his lashes, his lips slightly parted like he’s trying to find the right words.

and then he exhales, his features softening just enough for you to see it—the understanding, the hurt, the way he’s piecing everything together.

“i’m not them, y/n,” he says, voice steady despite the storm around you. “i would never be them.”

you nod, but the fear is still there, tangled with the love in your chest. “i know,” you whisper. “but that doesn’t make it any easier.”

for a moment, neither of you move. the rain keeps falling, soaking you both to the bone, but it’s like neither of you feel it anymore. it’s just him. just you. and the truth between you.

then, finally, taeyong sighs. he lifts a hand to his hair, pushing back the wet strands clinging to his forehead, and when he looks at you again, there’s something steadier in his gaze.

“you don’t have to have all the answers right now,” he murmurs. “but i need to know—do you want me to stay?”

your chest tightens. “yes.”

his lips part slightly, like he wasn’t expecting you to say it so easily. but it’s the truth. it always has been.

slowly, cautiously, taeyong takes a step toward you. his hand lifts, hesitates, then settles gently against your cheek, his palm warm despite the cold. his thumb brushes over your skin, grounding you in a way nothing else has tonight.

“then let me,” he whispers. “let me love you the way you deserve.”

you close your eyes for a second, leaning into his touch, rain slipping between his fingers. and when you open them again, he’s still there. still waiting.

you don’t know if you’re ready. but you know you don’t want to lose him.

so you nod. just enough for him to see it. just enough for him to stay.

and this time, when taeyong pulls you into his arms, you let him.

—

taeyong holds you close, his arms tightening just slightly, like he’s afraid you’ll slip away again. you press your forehead against his chest, listening to the unsteady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath the layers of soaked fabric. it’s fast, but steady. just like him.

the rain continues to pour, drenching you both, but neither of you make a move to step away. not yet.

you feel his breath against your hair when he finally speaks. “i’m not gonna say that love isn’t scary.” his voice is low, quiet, but there’s something certain in it. “but i can promise that i won’t leave you to figure it out alone.”

something in your chest cracks open at his words. he’s not asking you to be fearless. he’s just asking you to let him be here—with you, beside you, through it all.

you pull back just enough to meet his gaze. his eyes search yours, patient, waiting. you don’t know what to say, so you just nod.

taeyong exhales, a small, almost disbelieving smile flickering across his lips before he brushes his thumb along your cheek again, wiping away water—rain, maybe tears, you don’t know.

“okay,” he murmurs.

and then, finally, he leans in.

the kiss is slow and careful, like he’s letting you set the pace. his lips are warm despite the cold, the press of his mouth against yours a silent promise that he’s here, that he’s not going anywhere.

and for the first time in a long time, you believe it.

when you finally break apart, the world feels quieter, softer, despite the storm still raging around you. taeyong rests his forehead against yours, his hands still holding you steady.

“let’s go home,” he murmurs, and this time, when he reaches for your hand, you don’t hesitate.

you lace your fingers through his, and together, you step forward—through the rain, into the unknown, into whatever comes next.

but this time, you’re not alone.

—

▸ sorry for the wait !! i got like a jumble of ideas for other fics at the time i started writing this

the third night you spend sleepless is when you start to loose it. the heat still wisps around you uncontrollably, impossible to catch relief from beside standing in the open door of your freezer. it follows you around and you start to question how you’re going to last the rest of summer if the heat doesn’t calm down.

it has you feeling on edge, useless. needy.

despite your efforts to ignore it, you can’t help but feel hot in a completely different way. the past few nights have been sleepless yes, but they haven’t been void of dreams that haunt you in the day. dreams where ethereal beings come and grant you your deepest wishes, your darkest desires. among all of them, there’s a reoccuring face that strikes so deep within you you almost feel empty at the thought he’s not real.

you’re not sure how you know his name, but lee taeyong is never far from the forefront of your mind.

a week passes of little sleep and even less freedom from your incessant lust-filled daydreams. you’re at the end of you tether and you’re convinced you’re hallucinating when the object of your grief stands before you.

the hour is just as late as when he first laid eyes on you, the night equally as static and humid. you want to scream, this strange man stood before your bed in the middle of the night, a predatory look upon his face, but you can’t seem to find a voice.

the white of his shirt shines like pearls against his skin, he is shimmering even without any light in the room. his hair is similar, a deep brown that still manages to appear illuminescent. his sharp features are paired with big eyes that stare down at you on your bed, frozen and unable to do anything other than stare up at him.

you can’t remember how long he’d been there. how did he get inside? why do you feel like he’s been there the entire time? the feel of the surroundings haven’t changed since he’s appeared and you come to the conclusion that he’s been there the entire time, invisible to the untrained eye and yet holding enough power to completely overtake a room. there’s the faintest quirk of a smile on his face as he peers down at you, like you’re a prized possession he can’t quite believe is real and right in front of him.

it’s off-putting, the way he stares at you with such needing intent and yet stands so unmovingly. he’s like a statue, you realise, a perfect replica of the most beautiful things the earth has to offer all in one place, one being. involuntarily, you feel a hand reach up to him, carefully, as if he’s a appartion from your imagination that will drift back into nothingness if you move too suddenly.

when his hand reaches down to meet yours, his skin is impossibly smooth, cool and yet soft. it feels like marble under the pads of your fingers as you drag one along the pad of his middle finger and into the palm of his hand, tracing the bluish veins that sit just under the surface of his wrist. there’s diamonds in his eyes as he stares at you, linking your fingers together and pulling the back of your hand up to his lips. unlike his hands, they are warm and your hand burns from the contact.

“angel, you’re so perfect.” the words are nothing more than a mere whisper on the wind that is now flowing through your bedroom, the temperature has dropped from impossibly hot to the perfect tepid warmth that sits against your skin nicely. his eyes trace your own, taking in the colour of your irises and the shine of them under him.

“who are you?” the voice doesn’t sound like your own but you fail to care, focus unable to stray from the stranger’s perfect face, your insides swirling when he quirks one side of his mouth up in a gentle smile.

“you already know, my dear.” there’s a wistful lilt to his voice and you jump slightly when the pad of his thumb brushes against the swell of your lower lip, eyes watching his movement carefully. you had never felt so safe and yet so on edge before.

“why are you here?”

“you ask too many questions.” it was less of a statement and more of a command to stop. it works immediately and you find your lips glued shut, unable to resist completely submitting yourself to this being before you. “there we go, isn’t that better?” he pokes with an easy smile at the silence that now settles between you. something about the praise is detrimental to your insides and a shiver of anticipation jolts through you.

for a moment, neither of you moves, there’s nothing but the perfect stillness of the night and the glowy cast that surrounds him to distract you. and then he starts leaning down closer to you, setting your hands that remain intertwined beside you on the bed and forcing you to move backwards until your feet leave the floor. slowly, like a lion approaching its prey, he crawls forward until your back is flush against the mattress and he is hovering on his free hand above you.

again, there is a second of painful silence where the world stops around you. in this moment, there is only you and this being who you somehow know as taeyong and the air between you, so full of expectation and the buzz of what’s to come.

and then he’s leaning down, slotting himself in the space where your legs naturally separate for him and pressing a first, soft, kiss to your lips. this is the moment where taeyong realises you are different from every other human he’s touched like this. your lips hold a warmth others can only imagine to possess, an addicting trace that leaves him breathless and suddenly uncertain of himself.

once his lips are separated from yours, you lean up to attach them once again. it fills you with such a new sense of want you can barely control your hands when they reach up to fist the fabric of his shirt, finding it almost impossibly soft against your skin, slipping through your fingers like sand.

when you touch him, taeyong mimics your action and lets himself lean into you so he can use his hands to toy with the thin straps of your nightdress. they skim around your neck and trail delicate twirls down your collarbones that have you shivering at the coldness. his hands continue on their pursuit downwards until they reach your breasts, kneading the soft flesh through the fabric. he swallows your moans when he rolls one of your nipples between his fingers, the other hand pulling the strap down to reveal more of your skin.

as soon as your skin is bared in front of him, he tears his lips away from yours and drags them down your neck to your breast. his fingers continue their assault of your other nipple when he takes one into his mouth, sucking slightly and loving the way you arch up into him. the feeling is overwhelming, the coldness of his hands compared to the heat from his mouth. it has you weak and helpless in his grip.

when he satisfied with the purple bruises adorning one breast, he lets your nipple go with a pop and moves to treat the other the same way, gentle but firm hands and the teasing graze of his teeth on your most sensitive areas.

you don’t notice his hand slipping between you until his hand toys with the waistband of you panties and you almost moan from that alone. it’s nearly too much for you as taeyong finally delves his fingers under the last layer of fabric separating you, every nerve in your body tuned into him and nothing else, your skin in flames and you mind wandering the plane between conscious and more than that. you are so hyper aware to the feeling of him on top of you, every place your bodies touch is engrained in your memory, a channel of the feelings you share.

he indulges you with an experimental swipe over you clit before choosing to rub painfully slow circles around the spot you want him most. you could cry with need, your emotions so uncontrollable due to your desire. it’s as if taeyong can tell you can’t take it as he moves exactly when you’re about to speak up, thumb setting a calm pace against your clit.

you sigh, body melting against his own as he plays your body like a perfectly tuned harp. his mouth stays latches to the sensitive skin of your breasts and the feelings are too intense. the coil in your stomach is tightening at an ever increasing rate and the moans you let out are sinful.

just as you’re about to tip over the edge into euphoria, taeyong stops the movement of his fingers, head moving away from your skin and leaving you cold and bare. you’re too lost in your craving for him to say anything, but he can feel your frustration in the way you tighten you hands in his shirt. just as he removes his hand from your panties, he scoops some of your wetness up with his fingers and holds it between you before sucking his fingers into your mouth, eyes nearly rolling back at the unbelievable sweetness.

in all his years, taeyong had never found someone so perfect.

instead of upsetting you further, taeyong pulls down your panties and pushed himself down the bed, settling himself happily between the soft skin of your thighs. he grips them in his hands and pulls them to either side of his head, leaving forward to lick up your folds teasingly slowly.

your head falls back at the feeling and you’re already lost to the pleasure. he makes quick work of you, mouth sucking your clit into his mouth and flicking it with his tongue whilst his fingers slip up into you. he strokes at your sweet spot, hitting the spot so relentlessly you can do nothing but lie with your mouth dangling open and breathless pleas leaving you. waves of pleasure rain down on you and this time, taeyong doesn’t stop when he feels you approaching your high, instead opting to quicken the pace of his tongue and curl his fingers inside of you.

you think you scream when you let go, but you can’t really tell beyond the overwhelming feeling of taeyong. everything around you is amplified as he works you through your high, hips stuttering up against him and legs quivering, shutting around his head.f

he give you a moment to recover before he’s crawling back up your body, a sinful smile on his face.

no words are exchanged as he gifts you another kiss, this one so different to the first few. it’s dirty and lewd and you can taste your essence on his tongue. you stay like that for an immeasurable length of time, drowning in the taste of each other. eventually, taeyong pulls away first and you feel a hardness pressing against your thigh. in preparation, he lets his cock glide between you folds to gather your wetness before lining himself up with your entrance. right before he pushes in to you he captures you in another kiss to distract you from the stretch.

it’s painful, but addicting. you wallow in the pits of your lust and realise you’ll probably never feel like this again, never feel such a staggering amount of emotion at once. you feel everything and nothing at all, like you’re in a daze where the only concrete thing to ground you is this man who shimmers into existence at late hours of the night and early hours of the morning. and you love it.

for the first few thrusts, you can tell he’s holding back, trying to give you a second to adjust to the feeling. you wind your fingers into his hair and tug, meeting his eyes and silently telling him to keep going. it’s all he needs before you feel his hips pull back and slam down into you.

your sight blurs as your eyes roll back, legs wrapping around his back and allowing him to reach the most prized areas inside of you. just like everything else about him, it’s perfect, so flawless you feel tears brimming at the corners of your eyes. he carries on for a while with that same rhythm and it doesn’t take you long before you’re hurtling towards another orgasm.

taeyong slows down to let your pleasure simmer down before continuing, chasing his own high as well as pushing you towards your own. his hips fatler from their original cadence into a messy movement that has you meeting his thrusts halfway. you start to clench around him involuntarily and he drops his head to the crook of your neck, tugging your skin between his teeth and sucking harshly to balance his pleasure.

you fall apart at the same time, synchronised heart beats going a mile a minute. the air in the room is charged and you feel electrified, like you’re on fire but also at the bottom of a freezing lake. the feeling of taeyong spilling into you makes you shiver, the warmth shocking your system. he continues pushing into you for a few moments before pulling out, rubbing his hand up your slit to see the way you jolt in overstimulation.

your eyes are still screwed shut and you feel him roll off you onto the bed beside you, the air rushing to your lungs easer without the extra weight. there’s silence for a while before you finally open your eyes with a smile and look over to taeyong.

the sight before you shocks you, makes your blood turn ice cold. taeyong lies facing you with an innocent smile on his face, but where his glittering eyes once looked at you with such adoration, two black pits stare back at you. the room is suddenly freezing and you flinch when his hand comes to rest on your waist.

too scared to move, you only screw your eyes shut and hope the sight disappears. to your relief, when you open then again there is nothing but a dent in mattress left behind and the cold winter wind blowing through your open window.

you’re not completely sure when taeyong became part of your daily routine. it wasn’t something you planned, wasn’t something you consciously let happen. but somehow, he’s just… there. always.

it starts with small things.

texting turns into late-night calls, where his voice is the last thing you hear before you fall asleep. casual hangouts turn into hours spent in his or your apartment, legs tangled on his couch as he absentmindedly traces shapes on your knee while talking about everything and nothing. the way he looks at you lingers longer than it should, and sometimes—only sometimes—you catch yourself staring back.

you don’t talk about what this is. you don’t ask if it means anything.

but you feel it.

one evening, you’re at his place, half-draped over his bed, scrolling through your phone while he sits on the floor, leaning against the edge of the mattress.

“you’ve been quiet today.” his voice is soft, but it still pulls you from your thoughts.

you blink, turning your head to look at him. “just tired.”

he hums, unconvinced. “tired, or overthinking?”

you huff a small laugh, tossing your phone onto the bed and sitting up. “since when did you become an expert on me?”

taeyong tilts his head, considering. “since you started letting me in.”

his words shouldn’t make your heart skip, but they do.

there’s something in the way he says it, like it’s the simplest truth in the world. and maybe it is. because you have let him in. more than anyone else.

it’s dangerous. and you don’t particularly like it.

but when he shifts onto the bed beside you, reaching out to brush a strand of hair from your face, you don’t pull away.

not yet.

—

the first time taeyong kisses you, you let him.

you don’t think about what it means, don’t let yourself process how natural it feels when his lips move against yours, slow and careful, like he’s making sure you have every chance to pull away. but you don’t. instead, you let yourself sink into him, let yourself get lost in the warmth of his hands cradling your face, in the quiet way he breathes your name like he’s afraid you’ll disappear.

for once, you don’t overthink. you just let it happen.

and maybe that’s the problem. because in the days that follow, you realize that one moment, one night of letting yourself fall, has the power to undo everything you’ve built to protect yourself.

you’ve never been the type for relationships. too messy, too complicated, too much of a risk. feelings were unpredictable, and love? love was just another word for inevitable disappointment. you had learned that lesson before, and you weren’t about to relearn it now.

but taeyong makes it hard.

he doesn’t push, doesn’t demand more than you’re willing to give. instead, he lingers; waiting, watching, showing up when you least expect him but somehow always when you need him. he’s steady, unwavering in his patience, in the way he lets you keep your distance but never lets you forget he’s there.

and that scares you more than anything.

because if there’s one thing you’ve always been good at, it’s running. but taeyong?

he’s the first person who makes you want to stop.

—

the room is dim, the quiet only broken by the low music in the background and the occasional sound of traffic from outside. you and taeyong were sitting close on the couch, your shoulders brushing, your legs just barely touching. it’s intimate without being obvious, the kind of closeness that feels more like an unspoken invitation than anything else.

his gaze is focused on you, a little too intense, but not in a way that makes you want to pull away. Instead, it pulls you in. you find yourself looking at his lips for just a second too long, and when you catch him staring back, the air between you shifts.

“you’re thinking about something,” he murmurs, his voice low, almost teasing.

you try to act normal, shifting in your seat to pretend like nothing’s changed. “just lost in thought.”

he doesn’t buy it. his hand moves toward you, slow and careful like always, until his fingers lightly graze the back of your hand. the touch is brief but enough to make your pulse spike. you’re frozen for a split second, but then you meet his gaze, and there’s no mistaking the desire behind it.

“you sure? you don’t seem like you’re lost in thought,” he says, his voice quieter now.

before you can answer, he shifts just a little closer, his knee brushing against yours. it was subtle, but it sends a shiver down your spine. he’s so close, you can feel the heat radiating off his body, his presence surrounding you in a way that feels both comforting and dangerous.

his hand, still resting near yours, moves just a fraction closer, his fingers lightly brushing the inside of your wrist. the touch is soft, testing, and you feel a tightness in your chest. you look up at him, heart pounding, and for a brief moment, you wonder if he feels the same pressure building between you.

“you’re making it hard to focus,” he murmurs, his voice almost a whisper.

his other hand reaches out, his fingers gently tracing the line of your jaw, his touch featherlight. you breathe in sharply, your chest tightening at the intimate gesture.

“taeyong…” your voice is barely audible, more of a breath than anything else.

he leans in, his lips hovering just above yours, but he doesn’t kiss you. not yet. instead, he waits, and the space between you feels charged, filled with all the things neither of you is saying.

“i don’t want to rush,” he says, his lips almost brushing against your skin as he speaks. “but i can’t stay this close to you and not feel what you’re making me feel.”

your breath hitches at his words. his hand moves down your arm tenderly, until his fingers curl around your wrist. you feel like you can’t breathe, like the world outside this bubble between you two doesn’t matter anymore.

he leans in just a little more, his nose brushing against yours, and in that moment, you’re not sure who’s waiting for who to make the next move.

the space between you two feels electric now. your heartbeat picks up as taeyong’s gaze lingers on you—eyes intense, searching yours as if trying to read every unspoken word. his hand, still resting on your wrist, feels like it’s grounding you, but at the same time, it’s pulling you closer to him in a way you can’t ignore.

the closeness, the undeniable tension, makes everything seem slower.

his voice is low, almost a whisper. “i’m not pressuring you. but i won’t pretend i don’t want you. do you feel that too?”

your chest tightens at his words, the heat pooling in your stomach. it’s so easy to deny what you feel, to tell yourself it’s all just a passing moment. but the way he looks at you, the way his fingers move so gently against your skin, makes you feel like there’s no turning back.

you meet his gaze, swallowing hard. “and if i do?” the words feel like they slip out before you can even think.

taeyong doesn’t hesitate. he inches closer, his lips brushing against yours as he speaks, his voice a mixture of temptation and certainty. “then don’t fight it.”

and just like that, you stop thinking. you don’t resist. the moment you let go of all your self-control, his lips are on yours, soft at first, like he’s testing you, waiting to see if you’ll pull away.

but you don’t. your hands reach up on their own, fingers tangling in his dark hair as you pull him closer, deepening the kiss. the world around you fades, the only thing you’re aware of now is the way your bodies align, the way your heart beats in rhythm with his.

taeyong’s hand moves from your wrist to your back, pulling you flush against him, and you can feel the warmth of his body, the way he’s just as eager for this moment as you are. he groans into the kiss, and it makes your stomach flip, that sound of raw desire, the heat building between you both.

when you break the kiss, both of you are panting lightly, your faces close enough to feel each other’s breath.

“are you sure?” taeyong’s voice is rougher now, like he’s trying to keep his composure, but you can see the desperation in his eyes.

you look at him, really look at him, and in that moment, something shifts. you know what you’re doing, what you’re about to let happen. it’s no longer about fighting it, about keeping your distance. it’s about giving into what’s in front of you—the intensity, the connection, the undeniable pull.

you nod, almost breathlessly. “i’m sure.”

and that’s all it takes. taeyong closes the distance again, pulling you to him, this time with urgency. his hands are everywhere, slipping under your shirt, moving to the small of your back, holding you like he never wants to let go. you let him, leaning into every touch, every kiss, as the barrier between you crumbles completely.

in this moment, you stop thinking about the consequences. you stop thinking about the future. all that matters is here, right now, with him.

—

it’s been two months.

two months since you let taeyong in, since you stopped overthinking for just one night and let yourself believe that maybe, just maybe, you could have something real with him. his touch had felt like certainty, like something you could trust. his lips on yours, the way he held you so carefully yet so firmly, made you think that maybe you didn’t have to keep running.

but you did.

it started slow at first; little subtle things. unanswered texts, turning the other way when you spotted him in the hallway, pretending not to hear when he said your name. you told yourself it wasn’t intentional, that you were just busy, distracted, focused on more important things. but deep down, you knew better. you were retreating, putting up walls faster than he could break them down.

taeyong notices, of course he does. you see it in the way his smile falters when you barely acknowledge him, in the way his fingers twitch like he wants to reach for you but stops himself. he’s trying to be patient, to give you space, but you can feel the weight of his unspoken frustration. he doesn’t understand why you’re slipping away—not when things were good, not when he knows you felt it too.

but that’s exactly why you have to pull away. because it was good. too good. and good things don’t last, not for you.

so you shut him out before he can get any closer, before he can prove you wrong. before he can make you believe that love doesn’t always end in leaving.

but the worst part?

he’s still trying. and you don’t know how much longer you can pretend you don’t want him to.

—

in the beginning, you try to ignore it. the way taeyong makes you feel safe. the way he remembers the smallest details about you, like how you can’t sleep without background noise or how you tap your fingers against your thigh when you’re lost in thought. the way he looks at you like he’s already decided you’re someone worth staying for.

but the closer he gets, the more you feel the panic set in.

it’s not his fault. taeyong doesn’t do anything wrong. if anything, he does everything right. and that’s the problem. he makes it too easy, too safe, too real. and real means something to lose.

so your only choice was to pull away like you always did.

you first take a little longer to reply to his messages. you cancel plans with flimsy excuses, blaming school, work, exhaustion—anything but the real reason. you turn your head when his hand brushes yours, pretend not to notice when he hesitates before letting it fall back to his side.

but taeyong isn’t stupid. he notices.

“you’re avoiding me.” it’s not a question when he finally says it, standing in front of you with a look you can’t quite decipher—somewhere between hurt and frustration.

you swallow hard, willing yourself to meet his gaze. “i’m just busy.”

he doesn’t buy it. “you weren’t too busy before.”

there’s no accusation in his tone, but that almost makes it worse. he’s not mad. he’s confused. he doesn’t understand why you’re slipping away when he’s done nothing but be there.

you want to tell him the truth—that you don’t do relationships, that letting someone in means giving them the power to hurt you, that it’s easier to leave before you get left.

but you don’t.

instead, you give him the same practiced smile you’ve given everyone who’s ever tried to get too close.

“things change, taeyong.”

and with that, you turn and walk away—ignoring the way your chest aches, ignoring the fact that he doesn’t try to stop you.

—

it’s late when you finally drag yourself back to your apartment, exhaustion clinging to your bones. you barely have the energy to pull your keys from your bag before the door swings open from the inside.

taeyong stands in the doorway, arms crossed, lips pressed together in something between relief and exasperation.

“do you know what time it is?” he asks.

you blink, startled, still processing the fact that he’s here. “how did you get in?”

“your roommate let me in hours ago. i was about to call the cops.”

you roll your eyes, kicking off your shoes. “dramatic.”

he doesn’t laugh. doesn’t move from the doorway as you step inside. instead, he watches you, gaze tracing over your face, your slumped shoulders.

“you didn’t answer my texts.”

you sigh, rubbing at your temple. “i had a long day. my phone died.”

taeyong exhales, running a hand through his hair. “you could’ve told me you were staying late. i was worried.”

the words make your stomach twist, in the way they always do when he says things like this. like he cares.

you avoid his eyes, moving toward the couch, but he catches your wrist before you get too far. “have you eaten?”

you shake your head, barely noticing the way his fingers tighten for just a second before he lets go.

“sit down.” he doesn’t give you a choice, nudging you toward the couch before disappearing into the kitchen.

you don’t protest. mostly because you’re too tired, but also because it’s him. and when it’s taeyong, letting him take care of you doesn’t feel like a weakness. it just felt like breathing.

a few minutes later, he returns with a bowl of steaming ramen, setting it down on the table before crouching in front of you. he looks at you for a moment before his gaze settles on your legs. his hands find your ankles, gently pulling your legs into his lap as he starts rolling up the hem of your sweatpants.

“what are you—”

“your knee,” he says, examining the small bruising cut near your shin. “how’d this happen?”

you blink, barely remembering the way even hurt it earlier. “tae, it’s nothing.”

he clicks his tongue, reaching for the first aid kit he must’ve pulled from your bathroom. “you always say that.”

you watch as he dabs at the bruise, his touch careful, like he thinks you’ll break if he’s not. the room is quiet, save for the sound of the rain against the window.

after a moment, he glances up, something softer in his gaze now. “you have to stop running yourself into the ground.”

you huff a laugh. “says the guy who forgets to eat when he’s working on something.”

he smiles, small but fond. “yeah, but i have you to remind me.”

your chest tightens. because sometimes, in moments like this, when he’s looking at you like this, you almost let yourself believe it could be easy.

but you know better than that.

—

falling for taeyong was never part of the plan.

it wasn’t supposed to happen—not to you, not with him. you had always been good at keeping your distance, at keeping things casual and untangled. love was messy, love was unpredictable, and you didn’t do things that had the power to hurt you

“you act like you don’t care, but i think you do,” he had said once, leaning against your doorframe, eyes warm with something you refused to name. “i think you just don’t know what to do with it.”

you scoffed, rolling your eyes. “i don’t do relationships, taeyong.”

“yeah?” he tilted his head, lips twitching. “then what do you do?”

you opened your mouth, but the words didn’t come as easily as they used to.

because by then, it wasn’t so simple anymore.

it was him showing up outside your class just because. it was the way he remembered the little things you told him, the things most people let slip through the cracks. it was how he never pushed too hard, even when he knew you were running—he just stayed close enough to catch you if you fell.

and you hated it.

hated how good it felt. hated that it made you want things you’d spent years convincing yourself weren’t meant for you.

so you buried it. ignored the pull, brushed it off, acted like none of it mattered.

but taeyong saw through it. he always did.

“one day, you’re gonna have to stop running,” he told you, voice quieter than usual, gaze steady. “and i just hope i’m still here when you do.”

you laughed it off back then. called him dramatic. but the weight of his words settled somewhere deep, in the part of you that wondered if he was right.

and now, standing in the rain, his words cutting through the air like something final, you realize.

that day might already be here.

the rain starts slow. soft droplets pattering against the pavement, catching the glow of streetlights. you barely notice it at first, too caught up in the suffocating weight of your own thoughts, in the way your hands shake as you cross your arms over your chest.

taeyong stands a few steps away, his expression unreadable, but his eyes are the only thing you can focus on. dark, searching, pleading.

“you’re really doing this?” his voice is quiet, but it still cuts through the night air.

you don’t answer right away. because if you do, if you try to say anything, you might break.

taeyong exhales sharply, rubbing a hand over his face. “you can’t keep doing this. pushing me away, acting like i don’t—like we don’t—matter.”

your throat tightens. “taeyong, you knew what this was from the start.”

his eyes darken. “no. i knew what you said it was. that doesn’t mean i ever believed you.”

you turn your head, staring out at the street, the neon reflections in the puddles. you wish he didn’t know you so well, wish he couldn’t see the cracks forming in your walls.

it begins to rain a little harder, your clothes darkening with the water droplets.

“you always do this,” he continues, stepping closer. “every time things start to feel real, you pull back. you tell me it’s nothing, that it’s not serious, that we shouldn’t—” he stops himself, running a hand through his damp hair. “but then you look at me like this, and i know you don’t mean it.”

your breath stutters.

because he’s right. you don’t mean it. but saying that would change everything.

“i told you from the beginning that i don’t do relationships.”

taeyong lets out a humorless laugh, shaking his head. “yeah? and yet here we are.”

here. the place you never let yourself reach. the part where things start to matter, where things get messy and complicated, where someone has the power to hurt you.

you’ve spent years convincing yourself that love was never meant for you; not in the way other people experience it. it’s unpredictable, uncontrollable. a force that pulls people in, only to let them crash. you’ve seen it too many times before. you’ve felt it before, the sting of expectations unraveling, the weight of good things turning sour.

so you set rules. you keep your distance. you keep things easy, temporary, untangled. and taeyong was supposed to be the same.

but he isn’t. he never was.

taeyong is patient, steady in a way that makes your chest ache. he looks at you like you’re something worth waiting for, something worth believing in. and that scares you more than anything.

because what happens when he realizes you don’t know how to be what he needs? that you don’t know how to hold onto something without eventually ruining it?

“if you’re scared, just say it,” he says, voice softer now, almost pleading. “if you don’t know what you want, tell me. but don’t stand there and pretend like i’m the only one feeling this.”

you swallow hard. you want to say something, anything, but the words won’t come.

so you do what you always do.

you take a step back. just one. but it’s enough.

taeyong’s jaw tightens. the rain is falling harder now, soaking into his sweater, dripping from his hair. still, he doesn’t move.

“if you walk away now,” he says, quieter this time, steadier, “don’t expect me to still be here when you come back.”

your breath catches.

because for the first time, you realize—he really might mean it.

—

▸ no longer valentine’s day so here comes the angst :)