hi! can i request a story with nct Mark like the movie Flipped, I just love the "she fell first, he fell harder" trope. Y/n is so persistent about showing Mark how much she likes him. Since everyone knows her crush on Mark, the others tease him, which annoys him at some point & told y/n off. Hurt, Y/n kind of distanced herself for a while. During those times she got closer to another member (maybe jeno or haechan), which then makes Mark even more annoyed, not realizing he's actually jealous. Angst slow burn w/ a happy ending. I'm sorry if it's too detailed đ -âď¸ anon
the years that I loved you
summary: you've been secretly in love with mark for years, but he's always kept his distance, even though you've grown closer over time. after a failed attempt to move on with jeno, you realize you canât forget mark. slowly, mark starts to notice his own feelings for you.
pairing: mark x fem!reader
genre: childhood friends to lovers, slow burn romance, angst, one-sided love, fluff, college au, drama, confessions of love, she fell first but he fell harder trope.
warnings: mentions of unrequited love, emotional tension and angst, heartbreak, love triangle, public embarrassment/confessions, self-discovery and emotional growth.
wc: 12,9k
notes: anon, did you read my drafts or what? because i had this exact idea written down, even with jeno as the romantic interest omg hahaha but i never finished it because i got lazy lol, i'm not really into watching movies, so when i searched for the one you mentioned, i thought iâd have to research it to be able to write about it, but then i remembered i watched it about two years ago haha, looking for inspiration exactly, what a nice coincidence anon, i hope you like what i write <3
you were thirteen when you realized mark lee wasnât just your brotherâs best friend.
he was the boy with soft eyes who always greeted your mom with a polite smile, the one who helped your dad carry groceries without being asked, the one who laughed with jaemin until their stomachs hurt and then turned to youâquiet, awkward youâand asked if you wanted to join them at the convenience store.
he noticed you. always.
and god, that was dangerous.
you kept your secret like it was sacred. folded it between pages of your diary, whispered it into the pillow late at night when your chest hurt with the weight of wanting someone who would never be yours. he was two years older. already shining, already so good.
you thought maybeâjust maybeâhe was too good to break your heart.
you waited until his last day of middle school. you had written the letter three times, burned one, hid another. the final version trembled in your hands as you gave it to him behind the school gate.
âplease donât read it here,â you said, not meeting his eyes.
âi wonât,â he promised, gentle as ever. âdonât worry, okay?â
and you believed him. you always believed him.
but the next afternoon, he asked to meet you behind the gym.
it was quiet. too quiet.
you remember the way he scratched the back of his neck, the way he couldnât quite look at you when he said, âyouâre really important to me. like a little sister, you know?â
you smiled, because you didnât know what else to do. you smiled as your eyes blurred.
and then you criedâugly, shaking, childlike sobs you couldnât hold back.
he tried to hug you, but it made it worse.
he said, âiâm sorry.â
he said, âi didnât mean to hurt you.â
he said everything right.
but it didnât matter.
because you were thirteen, and he was mark lee, and you had just learned that love doesnât always mean something back.
high school didnât make it easier. if anything, it made everything worse.
you tried. god, you really tried to move onâswallowed the ache, buried it deep under textbooks, sketchbooks, extracurriculars. you learned to walk past him in the hallways without letting your gaze linger too long, learned to smile politely when he said âhiâ like nothing had happened, like he hadnât held your broken heart in his hands behind the gym that day and handed it back to you gently, still cracked.
but the problem was: mark never changed.
he was still that boyâsoft-spoken, warm, radiant. the kind of person who made you want to be better just by existing near him. and worse, he was always there.
your house, once a quiet place of safety, had become a second home for jaeminâs band of loud, chaotic friends. most days, the living room was full of snacks, game controllers, and laughter. renjunâs sarcasm echoing through the hall, haechan draped across the couch like he owned the place, chenleâs laugh piercing through every door, jisung awkwardly trailing behind them with his phone glued to his hand. and of course, mark. always mark.
sometimes heâd be in the backyard with your brother, their laughter drifting through the window while you did homework at the kitchen table, pencil trembling slightly every time he called your name to offer you a slice of pizza or a bottle of soda. sometimes heâd walk past you in the hallway and lightly ruffle your hair like he used to when you were twelve, before he knew how deeply you felt for him. before you knew what it meant to love someone who couldnât love you back.
he still smiled at you like you were made of sunlight. still hugged you during holidays, still handed you wrapped presents on your birthday with that same soft voice:Â âhappy birthday. i hope you like it.â
you hated how much you always did.
you hated how his scent lingered on the gifts long after youâd hidden them at the back of your closet. you hated how you still looked forward to seeing him, how your chest still fluttered when he said your name, how you felt thirteen and stupid every single time he was near.
but the worst was that he didnât seem affected at all.
to him, nothing had changed. to you, everything had.
one rainy afternoon, you came home early to find the living room empty for onceâblissfully silent. you kicked off your shoes, soaked to the ankle, hair damp and cheeks flushed from running back from school before the storm broke harder. you turned the corner to grab a towel from the laundry room when you saw him.
mark was there.
he stood by the window, alone, watching the rain. his hands were in the pockets of his black hoodie, hair slightly messy, lips parted in thought. he looked older. softer. like the kind of boy who belonged in a novel, not real life.
he turned when he heard your footsteps and smiled without hesitation. âhey,â he said, like it didnât hurt, like your heart didnât still beat for him in every goddamn way.
âhi,â you managed, holding the towel tighter against your chest.
âyouâre drenched,â he said, walking toward you. âyouâll catch a cold.â
he was too close. you could smell the citrus of his shampoo, the faint vanilla of his cologne. when he reached out to brush a wet strand of hair from your cheek, you flinchedânot visibly, just enough for him to stop, hand frozen mid-air.
âsorry,â he said, withdrawing. âforce of habit.â
you shook your head, stepping back. âitâs fine.â
but it wasnât. nothing ever was.
you escaped upstairs before your voice could betray you.
two weeks later, you found yourself sitting in the second row of the school auditorium, knees bouncing under the dim lights, your palms cold against the fabric of your skirt.
mark was playing romeo.
youâd heard about it from jaemin, of courseâhow their teacher insisted he was perfect for the role, how heâd been rehearsing every afternoon, how the girl playing juliet had been a little too eager during practice.
and now, here you were. watching him on stage under golden light, speaking lines you knew he barely even had to memorizeâhis voice calm, lyrical, achingly beautiful. his every movement was precise, full of emotion. he touched julietâs face like it was made of glass, like she was something sacred.
you hated her.
she smiled when he held her hand. she leaned into him during the balcony scene. you saw her lips part just before the final act, the tension thick in the air as mark cupped her face. and thenâslowly, tragicallyâhe leaned in.
his lips brushed hers. soft. slow. real.
your throat closed.
your chest twisted so violently you thought you might get up and run. but your body stayed rooted in place, forced to watch as they collapsed together on the floor in a mock death, fingers intertwined, her head resting on his shoulder.
the applause was thunderous. everyone stood.
you did not.
you waited until after the show to find him. your feet carried you to the back hallway of the auditorium like they had minds of their own. your heart was a drum, wild and panicked.
he smiled when he saw youâstill dressed in costume, hair tousled, sweat glistening on his brow.
âdid you like it?â he asked, laughing softly. âi was so nervous.â
you looked at him. really looked.
âi still like you,â you said.
just like that.
no warning. no buildup. no sugarcoated version.
you were tired of pretending.
he froze. his smile dropped.
âi thought⌠i thought you were over it,â he said quietly.
âi wanted to be,â you whispered. âbut iâm not. and watching you up thereâwatching her kiss youâi couldnât pretend anymore.â
he looked down. exhaled slowly. ran a hand through his hair.
âyou know i care about you,â he said gently, âbut not like that. iâm sorry...â
same words.
same ache.
different year.
his hands lowered slowly, as if he suddenly didnât know what to do with them. his breath grew deeper, slower. he was about to say something. you were going to let him speak. but before he could, you stepped forward, close enough that he had no choice but to truly see you, to hear you, to feel the heat of your words.
âi donât accept it.â
mark blinked. âwhat?â
you were trembling on the inside, but you didnât back down. âi wonât accept a no. not yet. iâve been in love with you for as long as i can remember, mark. and yeah, maybe youâll never see me the way i see you. maybe youâll never feel the same. but iâm not giving up. because i canât. even if you ignore me, even if you keep looking at me like iâm just jaeminâs little sister⌠my feelings for you arenât going anywhere.â
the silence was a wall between you. thick. breathless. mark didnât know where to look. his jaw clenched slightly. but you saw itâhow hard he swallowed, the way his throat bobbed like your words had tied a knot in it. and then⌠that little flush, that faint blush coloring his cheeks.
he didnât respond. he just dropped his eyes and muttered something you couldnât quite catch before saying he had to get back to the guys.
you stayed behind, again. but this time, something was different.
you werenât broken.
you were alive.
the days after that were⌠strange.
you didnât hide anymore. you didnât avoid looking at him, didnât steer away when he came into your house, didnât pretend it didnât still ache. if you saw him, you greeted him with a soft smile. if he made a comment, you replied with one slightly sweeter. if you were near, you allowed yourself to lean in ever so slightly, as if pulled by something invisible.
mark said nothing.
but he noticed.
and everyone else did too.
renjun was the first to askâjust a casual afternoon in the backyard, you laying on a blanket with a book, the boys talking nonsense as usual. it happened right after mark came back from the kitchen and handed you a water bottle without you asking, like he already knew youâd need it.
âare you guys, like⌠a thing?â renjun asked, half-joking, half-serious.
mark laughed awkwardly. âwhat? no. of course not.â
but you looked up from your book, calm, almost proud.
âi like mark,â you said. not shy, not hesitant.
the silence was immediate.
haechan stopped chewing his gum. jisung stared at you like youâd grown horns. chenle let out a choked âwaitâseriously?â and jaemin⌠jaemin looked at you like heâd just uncovered a secret that had always been in plain sight.
mark tensed. his hand around the empty bottle clenched slightly. he didnât look at you. but you looked at him.
âi like him,â you repeated, voice steady. âi donât know if thatâll ever change. for now, it hasnât.â
the air shifted, thick with something unspoken. jaemin cleared his throat.
âwow⌠okay, didnât see that coming.â
mark let out a nervous chuckle. âseriously, thereâs nothing going on.â
you smiled softly. ânot yet.â
and that was that.
they tried to go back to talking about something else, but the topic hung in the air like perfumeâsweet, heavy, impossible to ignore.
after that day, the looks between you and mark carried weight. not just because of what you felt, but because now everyone knew. his behavior became more cautious, measured, like every move might be misread, like every glance might be taken the wrong way.
but he still looked at you.
he still smiled.
sometimes, he still sought you out without realizing it.
and youâŚ
you kept loving him, even when it wasnât a secret anymore.
valentineâs day hit the school like a storm.
the halls were dripping in pink and red, balloons bumping against lockers, the air thick with the scent of cheap chocolate and desperation. you werenât immune to itâif anything, you were worse.
you had spent the night before in your kitchen, standing over a counter covered in baking disasters, painstakingly melting chocolate, shaping little hearts by hand, writing stupid tiny notes on colorful slips of paper. you stayed up until almost three in the morning, ignoring your motherâs concerned looks, all for one boy.
mark lee.
you didnât half-ass it either. no. you went full force.
you woke up at five a.m. on valentineâs day, backpack bursting with gifts, heart pounding with something between excitement and fear. the moment you got to school, you made a beeline for his locker. you stuffed it fullâletter after letter, pink and red envelopes practically exploding out of the sides. every letter started the same way, "dear mark, i really really like you," and got progressively more unhinged as you got sleepier. one of them ended with a doodle of you two riding off into the sunset on a giant gummy bear. you didnât even regret it.
and then, the chocolates. you had them in a heart-shaped box you decorated yourself, glitter peeling off the sides. you snuck into his classroom early, your hands shaking, and dumped them right on top of his deskâpile after pile of messy, misshapen chocolate hearts, each one lovingly wrapped in plastic and tied with curly red ribbon.
it wasnât subtle. it wasnât graceful.
but it was you.
when mark walked into class later, you watched from behind the doorframe like some kind of deranged cupid. he stopped dead in his tracks, staring at the mountain of candy and cards like it might explode. his friends started laughingâhaechan howling loud enough to draw attention from other classrooms, renjun pretending to cry from how beautiful it was, jisung muttering âbroâs got a stalkerâ under his breath while chenle recorded everything on his phone.
mark didnât get mad.
he didnât yell.
he just... looked so painfully polite about the whole thing, his bright smile twitching at the corners, his ears turning an adorable shade of pink. he stood there, awkward, rubbing the back of his neck, eyes scanning for an escape route.
you chose that exact moment to spring.
you practically bounced up to him, heart hammering, face on fire, and blurted out in front of everyone, âmark! i like you! a lot! like, a lot a lot! like, marry-me-under-a-rainbow kind of a lot!â
you didnât know where that last part came from. you regretted it immediately.
mark laughed. this soft, helpless little sound that made your chest ache. he looked at youâreally looked at youâand for a second, you could almost believe he was touched. or maybe just very, very overwhelmed.
"thank you," he said gently, voice a little strained. "youâre really sweet. butâuhâi think... we should just stay friends, yeah?"
you nodded furiously, tears pricking at the back of your eyes, but you smiled through it because you were determined not to make it worse.
"friends! sure! but, like, if you change your mind... i'm available. permanently."
haechan choked. chenle dropped his phone from laughing too hard. renjun whispered âoh my god, sheâs serious,â like he was witnessing a car crash in slow motion.
mark gave you a look, half grateful, half pleading, like he was begging the universe to save him from this situation without hurting you. he patted your headâyour actual head, like you were a golden retrieverâand hurried to clean up the mess youâd left.
the rest of the day, every time you crossed paths, you beamed at him and chirped "i like you!" like it was a greeting. heâd flinch slightly every time, force that damn brilliant smile, and respond with a tiny nod or a mumbled "thank you..." before speed-walking away like his life depended on it.
it became a running joke. teachers started asking him about his âsecret admirer.â students left fake valentines in his locker just to mess with him. he took it all in stride, patient and painfully kind, but you knew deep down it was wearing him out.
still, you couldnât help it. you were in too deep.
when the final bell rang, and you caught him stuffing all your letters into his bag like he was trying to hide contraband, you grinned so wide your cheeks hurt.
maybe, you thought, love didnât have to be perfect to be real.
even if it was one-sided. even if it was a little ridiculous.
your heart still beat for him. and for now, that was enough.
you followed him to university without a second thought.
not because you were obsessed. not because you were desperate.
maybe it sounded crazier when you said it out loud, like some reckless teenage daydream you should have outgrown by now, but in your heart, it had always been simple. wherever mark went, you wanted to go too. so when he decided to major in literature at a university two cities away, you didnât hesitateâyou applied to the same program, you studied harder than you ever had in your life, and when that acceptance letter came, you clutched it to your chest and cried, thinking it was fate smiling at you.
you convinced yourself that it was a new beginning, that maybe, somehow, away from the crowded hallways of high school and the well-worn patterns of rejection and affection, things could be different. you could be different. you could be the kind of girl he might actually look at twice.
but reality wasnât a fairytale, and no amount of shared classes or accidental brushings of hands across desks could change the fact that mark had drawn a line in the sand years agoâand he wasnât about to cross it.
still, you stayed close, orbiting him like a stubborn, quiet moon, your love for him woven into every choice you made, every dream you dared to have.
he was still kind. still soft-spoken and careful with your heart. heâd pull out chairs for you in lecture halls, lend you his notes when you were sick, laugh at your dry jokes when no one else did. he still bought you birthday giftsâcarefully wrapped, always with a little handwritten note in his neat handwriting. still hugged you every christmas. still remembered your favorite snacks and left them on your desk when you were cramming.
but he never crossed the line.
mark lee was a boy of boundaries. polite, good, respectful. especially with you.
especially because of jaemin.
the others âhaechan, chenle, renjun, even jisungâhad started making comments. light teasing when mark waited for you outside your dorm. when your fingers brushed as you passed him a pen. when he remembered things you said in passing and brought them up weeks later.
âjust date already.â
âyouâd make such a cute couple.â
âjaemin would murder you, but worth it.â
but jaemin never laughed. heâd stare straight ahead, jaw clenched, eyes hard.
âitâs not happening,â heâd say flatly. âdrop it.â
and markâmark would just smile and shake his head.
âweâre just friends.â
always the same line. always gentle. always final.
and still, you stayed. because a piece of you still hoped. still wondered if maybe, maybe, something would shift.
until summer.
that was when everything changed.
it started small.
mark smiling at his phone when he thought no one was looking. mark turning down movie nights, saying he was âtiredâ or âbusy.â mark humming under his breath as he walked across campus, like he couldnât help it.
he looked⌠lighter.
brighter.
and he wasnât looking at you.
you found out by accident.
a lazy sunday. mark had left his phone on the coffee table in the shared dorm lounge while he went to grab snacks. a message popped up, screen lighting briefly.
âcanât wait to see you again đâ from: yerim đ
kim yerim.
a girl from another department. bright, confident, everything you werenât.
you blinked at the message like it was written in another language. your throat tightened. your hands went cold. you couldnât look away.
when mark came back into the room, smiling like he always did, you could barely breathe. he didnât notice the way your gaze dropped. or maybe he did, but he didnât say anything. just offered you a packet of chips like nothing had changed.
but everything had.
by the time the others found out, mark and yerim had been quietly seeing each other for nearly two months.
the teasing stopped.
no more jokes. no more comments. just a strange, heavy silence.
even haechan kept quiet. only once, after a long night out, he said it in a low voiceâwhen mark had gone off to call her, when everyone else was half-asleep on the floor.
âyouâd be better for him.â
you looked up. your eyes were wet. you hadnât even noticed.
haechanâs gaze softened. âbut heâs not ready to see that, huh?â
you didnât answer.
because what was there to say?
youâd loved mark for so long it had become a part of your identity. it was in the way you walked, the way you chose your classes, the way your heart lit up every time you saw him laugh.
but he was never yours.
and now, there was someone else who made him laugh. someone he looked at like that. and the worst part?
he looked happy.
genuinely, radiantly happy. the kind of happy that couldnât be faked.
so you smiled too. you congratulated him. you listened to him talk about yerim with soft eyes and careful words.
and when you were alone, you cried into your pillow, biting down hard to keep the sound in.
because this wasnât betrayal. this wasnât a lie. this was just loveâone-sided, unchanging, and devastating.
you didnât blame him.
you just didnât know how to stop loving him.
you werenât sure when yerim began to notice.
maybe it was the way you went quiet whenever mark entered the room. maybe it was how your eyes never quite met his anymore. or maybe it was something deeperâsomething only another woman could sense. a kind of residual ache, the ghost of something that used to be almost something.
she never confronted you. never threw it in your face.
but her gaze lingered.
a little longer than necessary. a little too perceptive. especially when mark spoke your name.
and markâhe started choosing his words more carefully. his laughter dimmed around you, like he didnât know how to act anymore. like being near you was stepping into a room still filled with the scent of a fire long gone out.
you werenât mad. you were exhausted.
your chest carried the weight of every second youâd spent wishing for something that never existed outside your imagination. youâd painted a fantasy in your mind and clung to it like a lifeline, and for what? he never promised you anything. never kissed you. never called you âmine.â
he was just⌠kind. and you were just stupid.
so when you met lee jeno, it was like inhaling after drowning.
he was part of the sports science departmentâtall, tan, always wearing that damned sleeveless hoodie like he knew the effect it had on people. he had this cocky little smile and a voice that made you pause. and god, he was smooth. but not in a sleazy way.
jeno was bright in a way mark never was. he didnât hesitate. he didnât overthink.
he noticed you from the first time you sat across from him in a shared elective. you were sketching half-distractedly, and he leaned over with that grin that stretched from ear to ear.
"you always draw like the worldâs ending tomorrow?"
you blinked up at him, startled. "excuse me?"
he just laughed. âyouâre good. i like intense girls.â
you rolled your eyes. but he didnât stop talking to you after that. heâd walk you to class, show up with energy drinks during finals, and compliment the color of your nails like it was the most fascinating thing heâd ever seen.
and one day, without drama or overthinking, he just asked:
âgo out with me.â
no hidden meanings. no caution. just jeno, smiling, offering you something real.
you hesitated.
you thought of mark. of his careful hands, his lingering warmth, the smile he used to give you before it all got awkward. but that was the thingâit had gotten awkward. broken. distant. he belonged to someone else now. he never belonged to you.
so you said yes.
after weeks of holding onto a secret that was slowly tearing you apart, you finally decided to give jeno a chance. you couldnât keep pretending like mark didnât already have your heart in his hands, even if he didnât want it. you couldnât keep letting your feelings for him dictate everything, so when jeno, the charming and confident guy from your physical education class, asked you out one day, you hesitated.
you hesitated for a long time, thinking of how many times mark had walked right past you, never once acknowledging your heart, never once looking at you in a way that made you feel more than just his friendâs younger sister.
but this time, it was different. jeno was persistent, and there was a spark in his smile that made you feel like maybe, just maybe, you could move on. so, after a long conversation with yourself and an even longer discussion with your heart, you said yes. but you werenât going to drag jeno into something he wasnât prepared for, so before you agreed to anything, you told him the truth.
âiâve been in love with someone else for so long,â you admitted, your voice soft, vulnerable. âand i donât know if i can just let go of that... but i want to try. i want to try with you.â
jeno smiled at you, and his eyes softened, like he understood. âi know,â he said, his voice steady. âiâve seen it. but iâll do my best to make you forget about him. iâll do everything i can so that you only look at me the way you looked at him.â
it wasnât a promise of forever, but it was a promise to try. and for the first time in a long time, you felt like maybe, just maybe, you could start anew. so you accepted, feeling a little lighter, but still carrying the weight of what had once been.
the first few days were like walking on air. jeno was easy to be aroundâfunny, charming, the kind of guy who made you feel like you mattered. when you walked around campus together, everyone noticed. people were happy for you, the long-lost couple that everyone was rooting for. but mark? mark looked like he had swallowed something bitter.
mark had never been good at hiding his feelings, and even if he tried, yerim saw right through him. it had been a few weeks since you and jeno started dating, and markâs behavior was becoming more noticeable by the day. his lingering stares, the way he would look at you and jeno when you walked into a room togetherâyerim had seen enough. she had been patient with him, but there was only so much a person could tolerate.
you caught him looking at you and jeno one too many times, his eyes narrowed and his lips set in a firm line. it made you uncomfortable, the way he would glance at you, then at jeno, like he was calculating something, weighing something in his mind. but you didnât think much of it until the day he pulled you aside after a class, his face clouded with something unreadable.
âhey,â he started, his voice softer than usual, though there was still a bite to it. âi donât think jeno is good for you.â
you blinked, startled. âwhat do you mean?â you asked, confused, but also feeling a knot tighten in your chest. why was he saying this now? after all this time?
mark rubbed the back of his neck, looking uneasy. âi mean... youâre my friend, and i care about you. i just donât think heâs the right person for you. you deserve better than him.â
you could feel your heart racing. âwhat do you know about whatâs good for me or not?â you replied, your tone sharp. âyouâre not my... youâre not my anything, mark. i donât need you to tell me whatâs best for me.â
he frowned, a flicker of guilt crossing his face, but he didnât apologize. instead, he sighed. âiâm just looking out for you, okay? youâre... important to me.â
the words stung more than they should have. important to him. you let out a bitter laugh. âimportant to you? youâve barely noticed me for years, mark. donât try to pull that with me now.â
his face shifted, caught somewhere between frustration and something else that you couldnât quite place. âiâm serious, okay? just... be careful with jeno.â
before you could respond, he turned and walked away, leaving you standing there, feeling more confused than ever.
but things didnât stop there.
it wasnât just that mark had said what he saidâit was the way he started acting afterward. jeno was around, and whenever jeno was around, mark seemed to get this look in his eyes, like he was watching you two, trying to figure out something that wasnât adding up. he started showing up more, always offering you little things, always asking if you needed anything. he would bring you your favorite coffee between classes, or linger a little longer than usual when he saw you and jeno walking together.
you noticed it. everyone noticed it. especially yerim.
it was one afternoon in the student lounge when yerim couldnât hold it in any longer. âmark,â she said, voice tight, âyouâre doing it again. youâve been acting like this... like youâre in love with her.â
mark froze, caught in the act of watching you laugh with jeno. he opened his mouth to deny it, but yerim didnât let him. âdonât even try to deny it,â she continued. âyouâre constantly around her, always looking at her like you want something more. youâre jealous every time jeno is near her.â
mark looked at her, eyes wide with shock. âiâm notâi mean, no, thatâs not it.â
âreally?â yerimâs voice was sharp now. âbecause it looks like it. youâre in love with her, arenât you?â
the words hung in the air like a weight neither of them could lift. markâs face went pale. he opened his mouth to respond, but no words came out at first. then, slowly, he shook his head, almost as if to convince himself.
âno,â he muttered. âiâm not.â
yerim stared at him for a long moment, her expression a mix of disbelief and something more profound. âmark... you canât just keep pretending you donât care about her. youâve been doing it for years, and now youâre pushing jeno away like this. stop lying to yourself.â
he didnât say anything. he just stood there, looking at you as you laughed with jeno, the smile on your face not quite reaching his eyes anymore.
it was the last straw when mark once again casually mentioned your name while they were eating lunch together, and yerim couldnât hold her tongue any longer.
âmark,â yerim began, her voice quiet but firm. âi canât keep doing this.â
mark looked up from his phone, confused. âwhat do you mean?â he asked, trying to mask the tension in his voice.
âthis,â she motioned between the two of them, the table between them feeling like a chasm. âyour obsession with her. itâs becoming impossible to ignore, and frankly, iâm tired of it.â
he blinked, shocked by her bluntness. âwhat are you talking about? iâm not obsessed with anyone.â
âoh, really?â yerimâs eyes narrowed, her tone ice-cold now. âbecause every time i bring something up, you somehow find a way to tie it back to her. last week, we were talking about your plans for the summer, and youââ she paused, shaking her head as if in disbelief, âyou brought her up. again. youâre not fooling me, mark. itâs always about her. iâm starting to think youâre not really here with me.â
mark opened his mouth to argue, but yerim held up her hand, stopping him mid-sentence. âno. donât try to lie to me. youâre in love with her, arenât you?â
the words hit him like a punch to the gut. he looked away, unable to meet her gaze. a flash of memories flashed in his mindâthose moments when your name slipped out of his mouth without even thinking, how heâd catch himself whenever he accidentally mentioned you during their time together.
he remembered the time they were having a casual dinner at a restaurant and he had jokingly said, ây/n would love this dish.â yerim had paused, her fork mid-air, her eyes narrowing. but mark quickly covered it up, offering a distracted smile, as if it didnât mean anything. another time, they were walking through the campus, and he had said, âthis place reminds me of something y/n and i used to do.â yerim had looked at him, confusion and hurt crossing her face, but mark had just shrugged it off. it wasnât anything, he assured her. just memories of a friendship.
but yerim wasnât stupid. and she was done pretending she didnât see it.
âyouâve been so distracted, mark. and iâm over it,â yerimâs voice grew stronger now, the anger finally coming through. âyou donât have the right to string me along while youâre still hung up on someone else.â
markâs heart raced in his chest, the weight of her words sinking in. he couldnât deny it anymore. yerim wasnât wrong, and he hated himself for it. âi didnât mean for it to be like this,â he said, his voice barely above a whisper. âitâs just... y/n... i never meant to hurt you.â
but yerim wasnât having it. she was proud, and she recognized her worth. her eyes flashed with frustration as she stood up from the table, throwing her napkin down with a sharp motion. âit doesnât matter what you meant, mark. what matters is that youâve been leading me on, and iâm done. iâm not going to sit here and pretend everythingâs fine when you clearly canât even give me your full attention.â
mark stood up too, his voice soft, almost pleading. âyerim, please donâtââ
âno, mark. iâve had enough. i need someone whoâs here for me, not for someone else.â she turned to leave, but stopped at the door, her back still to him. âthink about it, mark. because if youâre not careful, youâre going to lose both of us.â
the door slammed shut behind her, and mark stood there in silence, feeling the weight of her words settle in. but before he could process what had just happened, his phone buzzed in his pocket. he pulled it out, and there it was againâyour name, flashing on the screen.
a flood of memories hit him all at onceâthe late-night talks with you, the way he had always put you on a pedestal, and how, no matter how hard he tried, he couldnât stop thinking about you. he couldnât stop caring about you. yerim had been right. it had been you, always you.
but that wasnât all. as he sat there, the memories of his time with yerim also came flooding back. the times sheâd gotten upset with him for talking about you too much. he had brushed it off, saying it was nothing, just casual references. but deep down, he knew he was never really there for her. not the way she deserved.
a sharp pain twisted in his chest, and he realized somethingâyerim had always been more than just a girlfriend to him. she was a distraction, a way to cover up the hole in his heart that he refused to acknowledge. but now, everything felt different.
it was supposed to be a day of fun, something to make you forget. jeno had planned a trip to the amusement park, hoping that the laughter, the rides, and the sweet cotton candy would distract you from everything that had been weighing heavily on your heart. he was always there for you, attentive and sweet, trying his best to make you feel special. his hand never left yours, and he had a way of making you feel like everything was going to be okay, even though you weren't sure it ever would be.
but as the day went on, the fun rides, the silly carnival games, and even jenoâs bright smile couldnât keep your thoughts from drifting back to mark. you tried so hard to push them away, to focus on the moment, on the person beside you who was giving you his all. jeno was perfect. he was patient, kind, charming in ways that made you laugh without even trying. but no matter how much he tried to pull you out of the hole youâd fallen into, mark was still there, lingering in your heart like a shadow you couldnât escape.
it wasnât until you were sitting on a bench near the Ferris wheel, looking out at the glowing lights of the park, that the dam finally broke. tears blurred your vision, and for the first time in a long while, you let them fall. jenoâs hand gently cupped your face, his thumb wiping away the first tear, and then another, as his soft voice reached your ears.
âhey,â he murmured, his eyes filled with concern and something deeper, like he already knew what was happening. âwhatâs going on?â
you shook your head, struggling to find the right words. âi... iâm so sorry, jeno. i thought i could... but i canât. i canât stop thinking about him.â your voice cracked, and the sobs you had been holding back spilled out. âitâs not fair to you. i feel like iâm using you, but i canât... i canât let go of mark.â
jeno stayed quiet for a moment, his hand still resting on your cheek, tender and warm. he didnât look hurt, not the way you expected him to. instead, his eyes were filled with understanding, the kind of understanding that made your chest ache even more.
âyou donât have to apologize,â he said softly, his voice steady and calm. âyou canât force yourself to move on, y/n. you canât just push those feelings aside because you want them to go away. i know that. i wonât ask you to stop thinking about him, or to stop loving him. but you need to realize that youâre only hurting yourself by holding onto something that might never be.â he paused, giving you a moment to absorb his words, his thumb tracing your cheek slowly. âif youâre not ready for this, if youâre not ready for me, then itâs okay. we can stop here.â
his words cut deeper than you expected. you looked at him, and in his eyes, you saw nothing but kindness, the kind of person who would never push you, who would never force you to be someone you werenât. but that only made it harder to bear. jeno was giving you his everything, and yet, your heart was somewhere else.
âjeno...â you whispered, your voice shaking, âiâm so sorry. i wish i could just... let go. but iâm not ready for this. for us. i thought maybe... maybe i could love you. but i canât stop thinking about him. and itâs not fair to you. you deserve someone who can love you the way you deserve to be loved.â
jeno smiled at you, but it wasnât the smile of someone who was happy. it was a smile tinged with sadness, a resignation that seemed to come from a place of understanding rather than disappointment. he took your hand in his and held it firmly, as if to reassure you that it was okay.
âi knew,â he said quietly, his voice soft but sure. âi knew this wasnât going to be easy. and iâm not mad at you, y/n. iâm just... iâm just glad youâre being honest with me.â he gave your hand a squeeze. âyou donât have to force anything. if you want to keep holding onto mark, then do it. if thatâs what you need to do to move on, then i wonât stop you. i want you to be happy, even if itâs not with me.â
you blinked back more tears, unable to find the right words. jenoâs face was full of hurt, but also full of understanding, and you hated yourself for not being able to give him what he deserved. you loved jeno, you really did, but your heart was still anchored to mark, and nothing was going to change that just because you wanted it to.
âi donât deserve you,â you said through a broken sob, the guilt overwhelming. âiâm sorry, jeno. iâm so sorry.â
âdonât apologize,â he said again, his voice steady and soothing, despite the sadness that lingered there. âjust think about it, okay? take your time. but donât stay in this place forever. donât let yourself be stuck on someone who canât give you the love you deserve.â
you nodded, unable to speak, and jeno, ever patient and kind, pulled you into a gentle embrace. his warmth was comforting, but it also reminded you of the hole in your heart that mark had left behind.
you could feel the weight of his words, the truth in them sinking deeper than anything you had ever felt. he wasnât going to hold you to something that wasnât real, and you hated the fact that it took you this long to realize it. jeno wasnât just someone you could use to fill the gap mark had left. he was someone who deserved to be loved completely, and you werenât capable of giving him that.
as you pulled away, you could see the understanding in jenoâs eyes, and it was that very understanding that made the pain in your chest grow even stronger. jeno wasnât going to hold onto something that wasnât meant to be. and maybe, just maybe, that was the hardest thing for you to accept.
âiâm sorry,â you whispered again, your voice small, broken. âbut i think i need to try with mark. maybe... maybe heâs the one iâm meant to be with.â
jeno smiled again, but this time, it was bittersweet. âthen go for it, y/n. do what you need to do. iâm not going anywhere.â
and just like that, you knew. you had your answer. but the question now was whether mark would ever feel the same way.
the days at university dragged on, each one more suffocating than the last. you had your friends around you, and yet, you felt like you were drowning in the same sea of unresolved feelings. it was a strange comfort to be surrounded by people, but their presence didnât erase the emptiness you felt inside. markâs presence lingered everywhere, like a ghost. even in the cafeteria, you couldnât escape the feeling that something was missing. his silence, his avoidance, it was all becoming too much to bear.
one morning, as you sat at a table with your friends, a subtle shift in the atmosphere caught your attention. mark had arrived late, as usual, and took a seat at the opposite end of the table, his gaze distant, his face blank. the usual chatter buzzed around you, but there was an unmistakable tension in the air. the others seemed to sense it too, noticing how quiet everything had become since the both of you had entered the room.
haechan, always the one to try and lighten the mood, leaned back in his chair, his grin wide and teasing. âso guys, whatâs going on here? someone want to spill the tea?â his tone was playful, but there was an edge to it that made it clear he wasnât fully joking.
you felt your stomach twist, but before you could respond, mark shifted in his seat, his fork tapping against his plate. the room grew unnaturally quiet, the teasing atmosphere fading into something more uncomfortable. markâs voice broke through the silence, his tone so flat it was almost impossible to read.
âyerim⌠she broke up with me,â mark said, the words coming out without any emotion, almost like he was just stating a fact. it wasnât a confession or a cry for sympathy, just an acknowledgment of something that had happened.
the table fell completely silent. everyone, even haechan, froze, unsure of what to say. it was as if the air had thickened, and no one dared to move or speak for a moment. you kept your eyes fixed on your tray, unable to meet anyoneâs gaze, though you couldnât help but sneak a glance at mark from the corner of your eye.
he was eating his breakfast now, like it was just another normal morning, his face emotionless. but you could see the small, almost imperceptible signs of tension in his posture. his shoulders were a little more rigid, and his hand gripped his fork a little tighter than usual. but he said nothing more, and the others didnât press him for details.
renjun, ever the curious one, broke the silence by shifting in his seat and looking directly at you. âwhat about jeno?â he asked, his voice soft but probing.
the question hit you harder than expected. it was like everyone had just been waiting for you to talk about it, to explain what had happened between you and jeno. you hesitated, biting your lip as you considered how to respond.
âi⌠i ended things with jeno,â you said finally, your voice quieter than you intended.
chenle raised an eyebrow, clearly confused. what? you were just starting to get into it. why would you stop now?â
you shrugged, feeling a lump form in your throat. âi wasnât prepared for what he needed.â
another silence filled the room, heavier this time. you could feel their eyes on you, but you didnât dare look up. the tension in the air was suffocating, and you could feel it building up around you like a thick fog. it wasnât just the conversation that was uncomfortableâit was everything that had been left unsaid. the way mark kept his distance, the way you couldnât stop thinking about him, the way you couldnât shake the feeling that things were never going to be as simple as they once were.
you stole another glance at mark, your heart tightening at the sight of him. he was still eating, his movements slow and deliberate, but you could tell he was aware of the conversation. the slight tightening of his jaw, the way his eyes flicked toward you for a fraction of a secondâit all spoke volumes. but he said nothing more. he wasnât going to make this easy for you. he wasnât going to chase you or beg for your attention. it was always like this with him, wasnât it? he had this way of making you feel like you were the only one who cared, while he remained distant, unreachable.
as you sat there, feeling the weight of the silence press down on you, you realized that maybe you werenât the only one who had been avoiding the truth. maybe mark was doing the same thing. maybe he, too, had been holding back, pretending that everything was fine when it wasnât.
and then, as if on cue, mark glanced up at you. his eyes met yours for just a moment, and for the briefest of seconds, you saw something in themâsomething raw, something vulnerable. but it was gone as quickly as it had appeared, replaced by the same mask of indifference he wore so often.
you couldnât stop yourself from feeling the ache in your chest, the pain of wanting something that wasnât yours to have. you didnât know what this meant, what the silence between the two of you meant. but it hurt. it hurt in ways you couldnât explain.
suddenly, mark stood up, his chair scraping against the floor, and without a word, he grabbed his tray and walked away, leaving the table in stunned silence once again. you didnât know if it was his way of shutting everyone out or if he was simply tired of pretending that everything was fine.
haechan glanced at you, his expression a mixture of concern and confusion. âwell, that was... something,â he muttered.
but you didnât respond. you couldnât. all you could do was sit there, surrounded by your friends, but feeling more alone than ever before. you didnât know what would happen next.
but you did know one thing: nothing was going to be the same again.
mark never liked to admit it, but the words yerim had said earlier echoed in his mind like a loud, unwanted reminder. "you're in love with her, aren't you?" he couldn't shake it. the way she confronted him, the certainty in her voice, it felt like she was peeling back layers of something he didnât even know he was hiding. he tried to brush it off, told himself he wasnât like thatâhe couldnât be. you were his friend, his best friendâs sister, and he had always kept a distance for a reason.
but the more he thought about it, the more it hit him. the way his heart reacted when you gave him those letters, when you filled his locker with chocolates youâd made yourself, and when you said "i like you" so casually, so boldly, as if it was the easiest thing in the world. mark could still feel the warmth in his chest when he read your letters. he could still picture the way youâd smile at him, your eyes shining with a hope that made him feel both uneasy and... strangely content. it made him feel things he couldnât quite name.
he had always kept his distance, tried to maintain the line between friendship and something else, because he knew it was wrong. but what if it wasnât? what if everything heâd told himself about not crossing that line was just an excuse to avoid the truth? there were moments, fleeting but intense, when he felt your gaze on him, when he felt you watching him more than anyone else, and it made him ache in ways he didnât understand. it was subtle, but it was thereâyour attention, your small gestures that spoke louder than words.
and mark... mark had never been one to ignore someone he cared about. he would remember the smallest things about youâyour favorite color, how you liked your coffee, the way you hated the cold but still insisted on walking with him outside when it was freezing, just because you liked the fresh air. he noticed these things, even when he told himself it was just concern, just the instincts of a friend. but now, in the silence of his own thoughts, it became clear: he was lying to himself.
it had never been just friendship. he was always there when you needed him, always paying attention to the little things that mattered to you. he didnât know when it started, but somewhere along the way, those small acts of kindness had shifted into something deeper, something more complicated. and now that yerim had pointed it out, it was impossible to ignore.
the worst part? he didnât want to. he didnât want to admit that he was falling for you, that the thought of seeing you with someone elseâa guy like jeno, someone who actually understood you in ways he never couldâmade him feel this... discomfort, this jealousy that gnawed at him, something he hadnât ever expected to feel. it wasnât like he hated jenoâno, he didnât. he was a good guy. but the idea of him being close to you, of him holding your hand, of him kissing you... it made mark want to break something, even if he didnât understand why.
he remembered the first time you told him you liked him. it had been so simple, so direct, and yet, it had left him shaken. "i like you, mark," you had said, and his chest had tightened. it wasnât the confession itselfâit was the way you said it, the sincerity in your eyes, the lack of hesitation. you made it sound so effortless, like it was no big deal. but to him, it felt like the world was shifting beneath his feet. he had tried to laugh it off, tried to brush it aside, but he couldnât stop thinking about it.
and now, as he sat there, the realization hit him full force. yerim had been right. he was in love with you. and it scared the hell out of him.
he had always tried to convince himself that it wasnât anything more than friendship, but the truth was staring him in the face now. thisâhis attention to you, the way he always found a reason to be near you, the way he knew things about you that no one else didâit wasnât friendship. it was something else. and as much as he hated to admit it, it was something he couldnât control anymore.
mark let out a slow breath, closing his eyes for a moment. he didnât know what to do with this feeling. he didnât know how to face you, knowing this now. he had tried so hard to keep things uncomplicated, to keep the walls up, but somewhere along the way, they had crumbled without him even realizing it.
and then he thought about the way youâd looked at him this morning, about the way youâd still found time to check in on him, even though you were moving on with jeno. he hated it. he hated how much it hurt to see you with him, how it felt like he was losing you to someone else. but what could he do? he couldnât just throw away the bond heâd spent years building with you. and yet, now that he had started to realize the truthâthat he, maybe, maybe... loved youâit felt like everything he did was too little, too late.
mark ran a hand through his hair, frustration rising in his chest. he was an idiot. he always had been. and now... now you were slipping away from him. and maybe it was for the best. maybe he didnât deserve you.
but god, did he wish he could change everything.
the professor of your writing class, a serious man with a gaze that seemed to read the minds of his students, made an unexpected announcement at the start of the class. there was a new activity, a group project where you had to work with a "superior," as he called it, to learn more about the challenges and demands that came with quality writing. as if it wasnât enough, the professor began mentioning names, and when he got to yours, it wasnât just any name.
"y/n," he said, his eyes locking with yours for a moment. "i know you all know mark lee. so, he'll be your partner for this task. iâm sure you'll learn a lot from him."
the entire class turned to look at you, and the blush immediately crept up your neck. they all knew you liked mark. it was obvious to everyone. a murmur spread across the tables, and a small ripple of laughter echoed in the air. your heart raced, and you could feel the tension building. you froze for a moment before quickly trying to compose yourself.
"after this class, iâll be heading to markâs group. so, iâll let him know," the professor added, barely noticing your discomfort. it was as if he had done this before, pairing you two without a second thought.
the rest of the day felt like it was dragging, and even though you tried to distract yourself with the usual distractions of university life, everything felt off. your thoughts were heavy with mark. you had been in the same place so many times before, but now, it felt different. this wasnât just any task; this was going to force you and mark into the same space, the same moments, and you didnât know how to handle it.
later, as you met him in the university library, the tension was palpable. everything felt too familiar yet too strange. you hadn't been so close in so long, and now you were working on something that required your attention.
at first, there were small, careful interactions. you would look at him briefly, and heâd turn away, pretending to focus on the task. but soon, those little moments started to build.
one evening, you were sitting together at a table in the library. you were writing, trying to focus on the task in front of you, but mark was watching you, the air around you both charged. the quiet hum of the library didnât help the feeling building between the two of you.
without realizing it, your hand brushed his as you reached for the same book. your heart jumped in your chest, and you both froze. he looked at you, his eyes searching yours for any sign of discomfort. when none came, he slowly took your hand into his, his fingers curling gently around yours. you didnât pull away.
you continued to write, trying to act like nothing had changed, but every single brush of his fingers against yours made your heart race. mark, in his usual composed way, didnât say a word. he just adjusted in his seat, took a deep breath, and continued flipping through a book with his free hand.
but you couldnât ignore the feeling. your heart was pounding, and every moment felt too intense.
markâs touch, his attention, was starting to feel different. the physical closeness, the subtle interactions, they were all making you feel things you didnât know how to process.
one night, as you worked late on an essay, you were sitting in the universityâs shared house, with mark next to you. the house was quiet, but the air between you two was anything but.
as you wrote the final paragraphs of your essay, mark casually placed his hand over yours, like it was the most natural thing in the world. you froze for a second, then continued writing with your other hand. he didnât let go of your hand, though. he just sat there, quietly turning the pages of his book, but his attention was completely on you.
you could feel the warmth of his hand, his fingers lightly tracing the back of yours. you were trying to focus, but everything inside you was screaming.Â
what was happening between you two?
the moment felt like it would last forever. your heart raced, and your stomach twisted with nerves. the way his hand felt against yours, the way you couldnât stop thinking about himâit was all becoming too real. slowly, as if testing the waters, mark squeezed your hand gently, a silent acknowledgment that you were still there, together.
you tried to act normal, but the intensity of the moment was almost too much. you didnât know what this was, but it felt like it was something more than youâd ever expected.
and as the days went by, you found that you were no longer just working with mark. you were starting to feel something again, something that wasnât just based on your past feelings, but something that was growing stronger every time he smiled at you, every time he reached for your hand, every time his voice got just a little bit softer when he spoke to you.
you were starting to realize that you were falling for him all over again.
mark sat alone in his room that night, the moonlight spilling through the window as he stared at the pages of his book without really seeing them. his mind kept drifting back to the moments he had shared with youâthose small touches, those fleeting glances that made his heart skip a beat. it was impossible to ignore the feelings that were starting to bubble up inside him.
why does it feel like this? he thought. this wasnât supposed to happen.
he remembered when you first started writing him those letters, how you didnât care that others saw, how you openly told him you liked him. at first, it made him uncomfortable, and he didnât know how to react. but now, looking back, he realized it had always been more than just a casual thing for him. you had always been more.
mark sighed as he recalled those moments when he would catch himself thinking about you in class, or how his eyes would follow you around the room. itâs not just concern, is it? he thought. i care about you more than i ever wanted to admit.
he thought about how he would remember the little thingsâlike how you always smelled like lavender, how you would always bite your lip when you were concentrating, how youâd laugh at the smallest jokes. he knew you so well. but why hadnât he realized it before?
mark leaned back in his chair, running a hand through his hair. itâs not just worry... itâs something more. his heart ached as he realized the truth, and it was almost too much to bear.
he was falling for you.
the days passed in a soft, almost imperceptible way, but mark could feel the change. it wasnât loud or obvious, but it was there, lingering between you two like a quiet hum. at first, the moments were small â a brush of your fingers as you passed him the pen, a shared smile when the professor made an awkward joke, the way he always seemed to look for you in the crowded hallways. you had grown so accustomed to each other's presence that it felt almost natural to be together, even in silence. but there was a difference now.
he was aware.
mark noticed the way you would glance at him when you thought he wasnât looking, the soft curl of your smile when he said something funny, or the way you always tried to be near him. he noticed the little things, things that before he might have brushed aside. it was easy to pretend that it was nothing, but deep down, he couldnât ignore it anymore. you were changing something inside him, something he wasnât sure how to handle.
they started to get closer, working together more than the project required, as if there was something magnetic pulling them together. late nights in the library, sharing the quiet, with nothing but the sound of papers shuffling and soft footsteps on the floor. the way mark would sneak glances at you when you werenât paying attention, the way his hand would linger near yours when you passed the pencil over to him. it was simple, tender. there was no rush, no hurry â just a slow, steady burn.
one evening, as you both sat at the same table in the house, the quiet between you two felt charged with something unspoken. mark had just handed you a book youâd asked for, his fingers brushing yours for a moment too long. you felt it, and so did he.
"youâve been quiet," mark said, his voice low, almost thoughtful. "thinking about the project, or⌠something else?"
you glanced at him, feeling your heartbeat quicken. "maybe both," you replied, your voice soft.
mark raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "you know, itâs funny. weâve spent all this time together, but i still donât think i know everything about you."
you smiled, trying to play it cool, but inside, you were nervous. "what do you want to know?"
he didnât answer immediately. instead, he leaned back in his chair, a small smile playing on his lips. "i guess⌠i just want to know how you see the world. the little things that make you⌠well, you."
you blinked, taken aback by the question. it felt oddly intimate, like he was asking to know you on a deeper level, not just as a classmate or a friend, but as something more.
"thatâs⌠a lot to ask," you murmured, your cheeks flushing.
mark smiled, his gaze softening. "maybe," he said quietly. "but i think⌠i think youâre worth the effort."
the way his voice sounded made something tighten in your chest.Â
you didnât know what it was, but you felt it â that spark, that connection.
and so it continued, these quiet, intimate moments between the two of you. each one made the feelings grow stronger, but neither of you acknowledged it outright. there was no rush. this wasnât about forcing something, it was just about being together, in whatever way it worked. a slow, steady love building like a quiet storm.
finally, the day came for you to present your project. everyone had gathered in the lecture hall, seniors and juniors alike. the professor was setting up the papers, his usual stern expression softened by the anticipation in the room. the seniors were all whispering among themselves, and you couldnât help but notice how mark sat just a little too still in his chair, his eyes occasionally glancing over at you.
the professor cleared his throat, signaling that it was time. "alright, y/n, mark â itâs your turn. please come up and present."
you stood up, your heart beating a little faster as you walked up to the front, your palms sweaty. mark was beside you, his presence oddly comforting, though you could feel the tension between you two. you werenât sure what to expect, but you knew that something was about to change.
mark didnât speak right away. instead, he took your project, carefully setting it down on the desk in front of the class. you watched as he stood behind it, adjusting his posture and looking around at the gathered group. for a moment, he seemed lost in thought, then he cleared his throat.
"before i present this," he began, his voice steady but with a certain softness that made you pause, "i think i should talk about something else."
your stomach dropped. what was he doing?
the professor, who had been prepared to listen to a formal presentation, now looked intrigued. "mark?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.
markâs gaze shifted to you for a moment, then back to the class. he was taking his time, choosing his words carefully."this is a story about someone i came to know. at first, i didnât think much of it. she was just someone i worked with, just another student. but as time went on, i began to notice little things. the way she always smiled, even when she was exhausted. the way she laughed at things that most people would have ignored. the way she always tried to be better, even when she didnât have to."
mark paused, and you felt your heart race as your eyes locked with his. his voice had a strange warmth to it, and the room seemed to hold its breath as he continued.
"i donât know when it happened, exactly. it wasnât a moment â it wasnât like i suddenly realized. but i know that one day, i found myself thinking about her when she wasnât around. and when i looked at her, it felt like i was seeing something⌠something that was more than just a person. it felt like i was seeing a world, a life. and i wanted to know more, to be close to her, to understand who she was."
mark looked at you then, his gaze soft and steady. "this person⌠sheâs not just anyone. sheâs someone who changed the way i see things, who made me realize what it means to care about someone. and i think, somewhere along the way, i realized⌠i was falling for her."
you felt your breath catch in your throat.Â
he was talking about you.
there was a stunned silence in the room. even the professor looked taken aback for a moment, his mouth slightly agape. mark continued, the words flowing from him almost effortlessly.
"this might not be the most professional presentation," he said, his voice now more playful, "but itâs the truth. and i think⌠thatâs the most important part of any story."
the professor, still recovering from the surprise, gave a small chuckle, but quickly regained his composure. "well, mark," he said, "that was⌠certainly unexpected. but if after all that, you donât present the real work," he said, raising an eyebrow, "iâll have no choice but to fail you. and your partner."
mark smiled, but you could see the playfulness in his eyes fade. "donât worry," he said softly, "the real work is here." he turned, pulling the actual project from under the desk and placing it in front of you. "y/n, itâs all yours."
you couldnât help but blush, your heart still racing from his words. the class was silent, the weight of what had just happened hanging in the air. markâs confession had left an unexpected warmth in the room, and for a moment, it felt like everything had shifted. everything felt different.
the rest of the room buzzed with whispers, the air thick with the lingering tension. you felt the weight of the moment heavy in your chest, but you were frozen, unable to move. markâs words had completely caught you off guard, and now, as he stood there, his usual confident demeanor had softened â there was a vulnerability in his posture, a quiet but undeniable sincerity in the way his eyes met yours.
for a second, everything felt out of place, like time had slowed down just for you two. your heart was pounding in your ears, and yet, there was a part of you that was oddly calm.Â
this was real.
this moment, this confession â it wasnât just a dream.
you glanced around the room, meeting the eyes of your classmates. some of them looked just as stunned as you, others had the tiniest smirk tugging at the corners of their lips, and the professor, still slightly in shock, was scribbling something on his notepad, probably to process what had just transpired.
mark cleared his throat, his eyes still on you, waiting for a response. but you were too overwhelmed to speak. you just looked at him, taking in the moment, trying to find the words that seemed to be stuck in your throat.
the warmth from his words, the honesty in his voice, left a tingling sensation in the air. but as much as you wanted to hold it together, the words he said, the way he looked at you â it was too much. the feelings you had buried so deep, the longing you had hidden, began to spill out uncontrollably.
your hands shook as the tears began to well up. you couldnât stop them. they fell freely, a mix of relief, sadness, and love all at once. the room fell silent, everyone staring at you. and you knew. they all knew. but now it was your turn to finally say it out loud, to let go of the fear of rejection.
"iâve always loved you, mark," you whispered, your voice shaky, barely audible over the pounding of your heart. "iâve been in love with you for so long, thinking i was just some fool. but... i canât hide it anymore."
you looked up, your vision blurry with tears, and there he was. mark, standing before you, a mixture of surprise and something softer in his eyes. he didnât seem shocked, but there was something in his gaze that said he knew. it wasnât a revelation to him â he had always known.
âiâ i donât know what to say, but... thank you,â he said, his voice low but sincere. âthank you for loving me all this time. for waiting. for staying. i... i had no idea. i didnât want to admit it to myself.â he paused for a moment, stepping closer to you, his eyes never leaving yours. "but now... i get it. iâm starting to understand what i feel, and itâs... you. itâs always been you."
your breath caught in your throat, and for a moment, you thought you might fall apart. but markâs steady presence kept you grounded. he was here, and he was saying things you had longed to hear for so long.
âiâm sorry it took me so long to figure it out,â he continued, his voice quiet but filled with so much emotion. "iâve been... holding back. afraid. but now, i canât hide it anymore. i like you. i like you so much. iâve been trying to pretend it was something else, but itâs you. itâs always been you."
your heart raced, your chest tight, as his words sank in. this wasnât just a confession from you anymore. it wasnât just about what you had been feeling. mark felt the same way.
âthank you for loving me,â he whispered, his hand reaching out slowly to take yours. his fingers brushed over your skin, sending a wave of warmth through your body. âitâs my turn now, to love you back. for real.â
you blinked, a soft gasp escaping you, and the tears came again, this time in a different way. not from sadness, but from the overwhelming emotion of knowing that after all this time, mark was finally letting himself feel the same. finally.
âyou donât have to thank me,â you whispered, still trying to catch your breath, but your chest felt full, the emotions swirling inside you, making it impossible to think clearly. "i just needed you to know how i felt. i... i never thought youâd feel the same."
mark smiled softly, stepping closer until his chest was almost pressed against yours. âi do. i really do. and iâm not going anywhere. i want to be with you, if youâll let me. no more hiding. no more pretending."
your heart soared as you looked at him, standing so close, his eyes full of honesty. you had waited so long for this, and now it was happening.
âi want that too,â you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. "i want to be with you, mark. always."
mark nodded slowly, his hand resting gently on the side of your face, his thumb brushing away the last of your tears. "then let's not waste any more time," he said, his voice warm and soft, a promise in the words.
the world outside seemed to disappear as you stood there, together, finally on the same page. no more hiding, no more pretending. just the two of you, taking the first step toward what you both knew could be something real.
days passed, and the universe seemed to shift around you. mark and you were no longer just two people who shared silent glances and unsaid words. now, you were together, the air around you both full of something new, something beautiful. but not everyone understood it right away.
you and mark sat together in the cafeteria, just the two of you, laughing quietly. the others were around you, but it was as if the world had faded, and it was just the two of you in that small bubble. you could feel itâthe connection, stronger than ever.
haechan, sitting across the table with jisung and jaemin, eyed you both with an exaggerated glance. his expression was a mix of disbelief and amusement. he leaned toward jaemin and sighed.
"i never thought i'd see mark being all... cheesy and love-struck like that," ahechan chuckled, nudging jaemin with his elbow. "i swear, he's practically glowing."
jaemin, who had been quietly observing, just shrugged, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "yeah, well, mark's always been that way when it comes to her," he muttered, already knowing what was coming. "took him long enough, though."
meanwhile, jisung, still looking grumpy about something, crossed his arms over his chest and shot a look at chenle. "you know what this means, right? iâm gonna have to give you 100,000 won now."
chenle grinned like he had won the lottery. "told you they'd get together eventually," he said with a teasing wink, clearly proud of his bet-winning skills.
jisung grumbled, staring at his half-eaten sandwich. "i hate you. i canât believe i lost this bet."
"itâs not like you had much of a chance, anyway," chenle teased, laughing.
jaemin just sighed, shaking his head as if he already knew what was coming. "this was inevitable," he muttered under his breath. "mark was always going to fall for her. he just took his time."
you glanced at mark, your hand casually resting in his as you both shared a quiet smile. it was the kind of smile that said everything without saying a word.
renjunâs voice broke the moment. "so, when's the wedding?" he joked, but there was warmth in his eyes. "mark's acting like he's already head over heels. never thought i'd see the day."
markâs cheeks flushed, but he squeezed your hand gently, his eyes soft. "iâm just taking my time with her," he said, his voice full of affection.
you laughed, your heart soaring. it felt right. this was real.
and though everyone around you may have teased and joked, you knew deep down that this was only the beginning. you and mark had found something special. something that, despite the slow burn, had bloomed into something beautiful and undeniable.
âso,â ahechan continued, looking at the two of you with a teasing grin, âwhen do we get to hear about your first official date?â
you turned to mark, your heart racing in your chest. "maybe you should wait for that one," you said with a wink, âbut... itâs gonna be worth it.â
the group burst into laughter, and markâs hand tightened around yours, his smile the brightest thing in the room. because no matter what anyone else said, you and mark had finally found each other, and nothing else mattered.
















