#nct 2026

The problem with Jaehyun wasn't that he was attractive.

The problem was that he knew it.

Or at least, you strongly suspected he knew it.

Because nobody should be allowed to look that good while shelving books.

Every Tuesday and Thursday afternoon, he'd stroll around the library with his sleeves rolled up, forearms on display as if to taunt you, glasses sliding down his nose and acting like he personally owned every square inch of the building.

Meanwhile, you couldn't check out a book without him finding some new way to annoy you.

Not actual annoying.

The infuriating kind.

The kind where you leave smiling despite yourself.

The kind that keeps you awake later replaying conversations and kicking your feet like a love-sick fool.

The kind that turns into a six-month overdue library book because you're...hopeless.

Hopelessly in love.

And because Jaehyun is impossible.

The first month wasn't intentional.

You simply forgot.

The second month became awkward.

The third month became a challenge.

By month four, it was war.

Because Jaehyun had discovered the book was overdue.

And because Jaehyun never let anything go.

"Oh look," he'd call whenever you walked into the library. "My favourite criminal."

You'd roll your eyes.

"You're a librarian."

"Part-time librarian."

"Worse."

"I'll take that as a compliment."

Then he'd grin.

And you'd hate him.

No. You absolutely love his devastatingly gorgeous smile. But you'd rather die than him ever finding that out.

Which was incredibly inconvenient.

So when month six arrived, you developed a new strategy.

Avoid him.

Specifically, avoid him so thoroughly that returning the book became impossible.

Which somehow led to you climbing through a library window at nine-thirty at night.

In hindsight, it wasn't your brightest moment.

The library was technically closed.

But the return slot had been jammed all week and you were desperate at this point.

And you'd spotted the maintenance man leaving one of the side windows cracked open.

Which felt less like breaking and entering and more like...aggressive book returning?

You dropped onto the carpet inside with all the grace of a falling bookshelf and a loud thud. Too loud for someone sneaking in.

A stack of magazines rattled, which made you freeze in place. A few seconds go by, and no alarm goes off. There's no sound at all except for the occasional car that drives by in the distance.

Reaching for the novel in your bag, you let out a sigh of relief.

"Freedom," you whisper dramatically, whilst you almost stumble over yourself to reach the return counter.

You're safe. You can put the book back and leave and nobody will ever know this has happened-

"You know breaking into a library is probably a bigger offence than an overdue book?" A deep voice says.

You nearly launch yourself into orbit at the sound.

Spinning around, you find Jaehyun leaning against a shelf.

Arms crossed, that smug smile, and entirely way too pleased with himself.

"Oh my God. You almost gave me a heartattack!"

Jaehyun chuckles.

"What are you doing here?"

"What are you doing here?"

"I asked first."

"I work here."

"It's nine-thirty."

He shrugs.

"I was finishing inventory."

"You live to ruin my life, don't you?"

"I live to improve it."

"By harassing me?"

His smile widened.

"Mostly."

You rolled your eyes.

Of course. Of course, he'd be here.

Because apparently the universe itself wanted to make your life difficult.

Jaehyun pushed away from the shelf.

"You climbed through a window."

"You saw nothing."

"I saw everything."

"You are the worst."

"Yet here you are."

He took the book from your hands.

Examined it.

Then looked back up.

"Six months."

"Don't."

"Six months."

"Jaehyun."

"Six. Entire. Months."

You lunged for the book.

He lifted it over his head.

Naturally.

Because he was tall and annoying.

"Give it back."

"No."

"You child."

"You committed a crime."

"You are being dramatic."

"You broke into a library."

"You keep saying that."

"Because it's insane."

With a determined huff, you stepped closer and reached again. The edge of the book brushed your fingertips, but Jaehyun effortlessly lifted it higher.

"Seriously?" you groaned.

"Seriously."

You made one last ambitious grab, rising onto your toes. Unfortunately, your balance had other plans.

Your foot caught on the leg of a nearby chair. Who even put it there?

The world tilted, and before you could fully process what was happening, you stumbled forward straight into Jaehyun's chest.

His free arm instinctively wrapped around your waist to keep you from falling.

For a moment, neither of you moved. When you look up at him, you're met with those beautiful brown eyes you've been dreaming about.

"You know," he said, "If you wanted an excuse to end up in my arms, you could've just asked. No need to blame the book."

"You are unbelievably full of yourself."

"And yet you're still in my arms."

For one horrible second, you heart stopped beating all together.

Then you shoved him away. And you could swear you saw him look at your lips for a split second before you did.

"Shut up."

His laugh followed you long after you'd stepped back.

You crossed your arms, pretending that your face doesn't feel like a thousand degrees right now.

His eyes sparkled because he knew how much it did affect you.

That was another problem.

Jaeyhyun looked happiest when he was driving you crazy.

"And also, you do know that most people just use the front door?"

"Most people don't have librarians obsessed with them."

"Oh?"

His eyebrow lifted.

The idiot.

The annoyingly attractive idiot.

"You think I'm obsessed with you?"

"I know you are."

A laugh escaped him.

"Princess."

Your stomach betrayed you immediately, as the butterflies broke free.

You hated loved when he called you princess.

Because he only did it when he wanted to watch you malfunction.

"I am absolutely not obsessed with you."

"You broke into my workplace."

"To avoid seeing you."

"Still counts."

"It doesn't."

"It does."

"It doesn't."

"It does."

You stared at each other. You with fury in your eyes and he with too much amusement in his.

"You know what I think is the funniest part?"

You immediately scoffed.

"Leave me alone."

"No, hear me out."

"I'd rather not."

His grin only widened.

The problem with Jaehyun's grin was that it always meant trouble.

The bigger problem was that you secretly liked it. A lot.

"You held onto this book for six months."

You pointed at him.

"Because of you."

His eyebrows shot up.

"Oh, that's dangerous information for me to have."

"It wasn't a compliment."

"Pretty sure it was."

"It wasn't."

Jaehyun took a slow step forward.

You took one back.

"You were embarrassed."

"No."

"You were."

"No."

"You absolutely were."

Another step.

You backed away again.

Jaehyun looked far too pleased about it.

"Tell me I'm wrong."

"You're wrong."

"You snuck into a library at night."

"That proves nothing."

"To return a book."

You glared.

He smiled knowingly.

"The evidence is overwhelming."

You hated that smile.

You hated the way it made your stomach flip.

You hated the way he clearly knew it too.

"Besides," he continued, lazily flipping through the book in his hands, "if you were really returning it because you forgot..."

His eyes flicked up to yours.

"...you would've returned it before chapter twenty-three."

Your jaw dropped.

"HOW DO YOU KNOW ABOUT CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE?"

The look on his face was pure victory.

"Oh my God."

"You just answered your own question."

You buried your face in your hands.

Behind them, you heard Jaehyun laughing.

Actually full on laughing.

The jerk.

"That chapter, huh?"

"Stop talking."

"Interesting choice."

"Jaehyun."

"Very interesting choice."

"JAEHYUN."

His grin only got bigger.

"Good taste, though."

You made a strangled noise.

The amusement dancing in his eyes was unbearable.

And somehow incredibly attractive.

Which was honestly another one of your problems.

"You know," he said, taking another step closer, "I always wondered why you kept renewing it."

"Please stop."

"I thought maybe you were busy."

You backed away again.

"I was-"

"And then I realized you were renewing it every few days."

You hit a bookshelf.

Your heart immediately stumbled.

Because now there was nowhere else to go.

Jaehyun noticed.

His gaze flicked briefly behind you before returning to your face.

The smile he wore became slower.

More dangerous.

More teasing.

"Oh."

"Don't."

"You've run out of escape routes."

You swallowed.

"This is a library, not a hostage negotiation."

“You always this dramatic when someone catches you? I was starting to think you wanted to get caught." He says with that infuriating smirk as he grabs the shelf next to your head, caging you in.

You hated how close he was.

You hated how aware you suddenly was of every inch between you.

You hated how much he seemed to enjoy it.

You especially hated how he could practically hear your heart beating right now.

His eyes dropped to the book.

Then back to you.

"You know what's really embarrassing?"

"Everything about this conversation."

"No."

His voice lowered slightly.

"The fact that after six months, after sneaking into a locked building, after all this effort..."

He chuckled at your expression.

"...you still never asked me for recommendations."

You blinked.

"What?"

Jaehyun tilted his head.

"I work in a library."

You looked at him like he said the moon is pink.

He stared back completely serious.

Then his smirk cracked through again.

"If you're going to read something that has you blushing this hard, I could've saved you some time."

You made a noise somewhere between a gasp and a groan.

"You're impossible."

"I know."

"Insufferable."

"I know."

"Annoying."

"I know."

He looked entirely too content about it.

Then, his expression softened just enough to make your chest ache.

"And yet."

You tried so hard to hide how your breath caught.

Jaehyun's gaze lingered on yours.

The teasing was still there.

But so was something else.

Something warmer.

Something that had been there for months.

"And yet," he said again, smiling, "you keep coming back."

The butterflies in your stomach became completely unmanageable.

For a second neither of you spoke.

The library felt impossibly quiet.

Just the two of you.

The old shelves.

The dim lights.

Jaehyun looked at you for a moment.

Then shook his head softly.

"What?"

He laughed under his breath.

"Nothing."

"Tell me."

His eyes sparkled.

"I was just thinking."

"That's never a good sign."

"No?"

"No."

His smile widened.

"I was thinking it's kind of unfair."

"What's unfair?"

"You spent six months reading about fictional men."

"And?"

"And now I have competition."

You stared.

Actually stared.

Because that was such a ridiculous thing to say.

Such an outrageous thing.

Such a completely Jaehyun thing.

The look on his face told you he knew exactly what he was doing.

"You are unbelievable."

"Am I really, my princess?"

"You are."

His gaze flicked briefly to your lips for a second time that night.

Then back to your eyes.

"Good."

Before you could think of something to throw back, he leaned in. And looked back into your eyes when he was just a hair away,

"May I?"

You nodded since you couldn't trust your voice anymore.

The kiss was warm, the kind that immediately made every coherent thought disappear.

It was like nothing you imagined and everything you feared you’d have to wait for forever. Soft at first, tentative—like testing if it’s real—but the hesitation melted instantly. Every second of holding back crashes into this single, electric instant.

Your heart hammers, your chest feels too full, and the world shrinks to just the two of you. You taste the patience, the longing, the unsaid words, and it’s dizzying. Every nerve is alive, and yet, somehow, it’s calm too—like all the waiting was necessary to make this so perfect.

When he pulled away, he was still smiling.

Still looking unbearably pleased with himself.

You rolled your eyes once again.

"Don't look so smug."

"I earned it."

"You absolutely did not."

His grin only grew.

Then he leaned closer, voice low enough that it felt like a secret.

"Next time you need help finding something spicy..."

Your face immediately heated.

"Jaehyun!"

His voice dropped an octave, low and dangerous, "Come to me instead… I’ll show you the live-action version. Every scene, every moment… more intense than anything in those books." He leaned in even closer. "And I'll make it so much better than your imagination, princess."

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The airport was too bright for heartbreak. Everything about it felt artificial—sterile white lights reflecting off polished floors, automated announcements interrupting human emotion every thirty seconds, strangers dragging their entire lives behind them in suitcases without looking at each other twice.

You hated airports.

Not because of flying.

But because airports were proof that people were always leaving.

And tonight, you were only there because your younger sister had forgotten her passport and called you in tears, twenty minutes before boarding.

That was it.

A quick drop-off, ten minutes max.

In and out.

No emotional damage attached.

At least, that’s what you thought.

The terminal doors slid open with a mechanical hum, cold air hitting your face immediately as you stepped inside. Your hood was still damp from the rain outside and fingers curled tightly around the passport in your coat pocket whilst you searched through the crowded terminal for your sister.

People were everywhere.

Families hugging goodbye.

Children asleep on luggage.

Couples arguing quietly near charging stations.

You even noticed a person crying near security.

Life was moving in every direction at once.

You pulled out your phone to text your sister— then froze completely.

Like your body stopped belonging to you for one horrifying second.

Because standing near Gate 14, half-hidden beneath the giant departure screen, was Johnny.

Not a memory.

Not someone who looked like him.

Johnny.

Your Johnny.

Or at least the person who used to be.

The world around you blurred instantly.

He stood with one hand gripping the handle of a black suitcase while the other rested in the pocket of his long coat. Dark hair slightly messy like he’d been running his fingers through it repeatedly. Headphones around his neck. Phone in his hand.

And somehow, somehow— he still looked exactly like the man you ruined your loving.

And it made you feel like your lungs had stopped working.

It had been eleven months.

Eleven months since you last heard his voice in person.

Eleven months since you watched him leave your apartment at four in the morning with swollen eyes and trembling hands.

Eleven months since he whispered,

“I think staying is hurting us more than leaving.”

At the time, you thought that was the cruelest thing he could’ve said.

Now you understood it was probably the most honest.

Johnny looked thinner.

That was the first thing you noticed after the shock wore off.

Not dramatically.

Just enough to suggest sleepless nights combined with skipped meals, too much work and too much loneliness.

He laughed softly at something on his phone, but it sounded empty even from across the terminal.

And suddenly you remembered every version of his laugh.

The real one that was only reserved for you.

The fake public one.

Even the exhausted one he used after arguments when neither of you had energy left to keep fighting.

God. This was a mistake.

You should leave. Right now.

Before he sees you.

Before old wounds rip open again.

But heartbreak had always made you stupid.

Because instead of walking away, you stared.

And as if sensing it— Johnny looked up.

Your eyes met instantly.

The effect was catastrophic.

His entire body went still. Not subtle. Not composed in the slightest.

Like someone had physically hit him.

The phone slowly lowered from his hand and dangled dangerously between his fingers.

You watched recognition spread across his face first. Then disbelief. Then something infinitely worse.

Pain.

Raw, unmistakable pain.

For one terrible moment neither of you moved.

The airport noise faded into static around you.

And suddenly there were no announcements, no conversations, not even the sounds of rolling suitcases.

Just that look on Johnny’s face.

Like after eleven months apart, seeing you was still enough to destroy him.

You looked away first because you had to.

Because if you kept staring you might actually break down right there in Terminal B.

You turned sharply, heart slamming violently against your ribs, and started walking in the opposite direction.

Fast. Too fast.

Like outrunning him might somehow save you.

But footsteps echoed behind you almost immediately.

Of course they did.

And then a voice broke through the void, through the echo of every painful beat of your heart.

His voice.

Deep, familiar and cracking slightly around your name.

And just like always— you stopped.

The sound of him saying your name after nearly a year apart hurt more than you prepared for. It carried too much history. Too many shared nights. Too many memories buried alive that were threatening to see the surface of what was once love.

You closed your eyes briefly before turning around slowly.

Johnny had stopped a few feet away from you.

Close enough to touch, far enough to remind you he no longer could.

For a second neither spoke.

He looked stunned.

Actually stunned.

Like he still couldn’t process that you were real and standing in front of him instead of existing inside old photographs and deleted messages.

“You cut your hair,” he said finally, voice quieter now.

You almost laughed.

Not because it was funny.

Because somehow that tiny observation shattered you more than anything else he could have said.

Of course he noticed.

Johnny always noticed everything about you. The things nobody else saw, the things you thought you had tucked away from the entire world and even all the things that you didn't even realise yourself. He noticed it all and he would turn every single one of them into more reasons to make you feel loved.

“You grew yours out,” you replied softly.

His hand lifted unconsciously to the back of his neck before dropping again.

Same habit. Same nervous tell that you found so endearing.

God, you hated this.

Hated how familiar he still felt.

“You look…” Johnny stopped himself.

Tired, probably.

Different.

Colder.

Like someone who learned how to survive disappointment.

Instead he finished quietly, “…good.”

You nodded once. “Thanks.”

A horrible silence followed.

The kind only ex-lovers understood.

Not empty. Overcrowded. Just one that has too many things living inside it.

Johnny glanced away briefly before looking back at you. “I didn’t know you were in New York.”

“I’m not.”

“Oh.”

“My sister’s flying home. She forgot her passport so I had to come up here.”

“Right.”

Another silence.

Another thousand things unsaid.

You hated how awkward this felt.

Because once upon a time, Johnny was the easiest person in the world to talk to.

At 2AM you could spend hours discussing absolutely nothing.

He used to call you during grocery runs because he “got bored shopping alone.”

You used to fall asleep listening to him ramble about music production and random conspiracy theories.

Now you two sounded like strangers forced into small talk.

It was unbearable.

Johnny swallowed hard before asking carefully, “How have you been?”

Such a simple question.

Such a dangerous one at the same time.

Because what were you supposed to say?

That you stopped sleeping properly after he left and still haven't recovered from it?

That every love song makes you physically nauseous?

That you still checked his interviews online even after promising yourself you'd stop?

That you once heard someone laugh like him in a café and burst into tears in the bathroom afterward?

Instead you shrugged lightly. “Fine.”

The lie hung between them immediately.

Johnny noticed.

Of course he noticed.

His jaw tightened slightly, eyes dropping toward the floor like he didn’t deserve honesty anymore.

And maybe he didn’t.

You crossed your arms tightly over your chest. “What about you?”

Johnny laughed once under his breath.

It wasn’t a happy sound.

“I don’t know anymore.”

That answer scared you because it sounded...real.

An announcement interrupted them overhead.

Flight 247 to Seoul now boarding.

Your stomach dropped instantly.

Seoul. Of course. Always Seoul.

The city that took him from you slowly before he physically left at all.

Johnny looked toward the gate automatically.

And you suddenly remembered the last night they spent together.

He sat on the edge of your bed at four in the morning while half-packed suitcases surrounded him.

Neither of you had slept.

Neither of you wanted to admit what was happening.

“You could ask me to stay,” Johnny whispered back then.

You remembered staring at him through tears.

“You’d resent me for it eventually.”

“No I wouldn’t.”

“Yes,” you said softly. “You would.”

That was the problem.

You loved him enough to know his dreams mattered more than your comfort.

And Johnny loved you enough to hate himself for choosing them anyway.

Ironic, wasn't it?

“Are you heading home?” you asked quietly now.

Johnny looked back at you slowly. “I don’t really know where home is anymore.”

The words hit you like a knife.

Because once...

home was each other.

You looked away toward the rain-covered windows before he could see the tears building in your eyes.

Outside, planes disappeared into the storm one by one.

Leaving.

Always leaving.

Johnny’s voice softened. “I tried calling you.”

Your chest tightened painfully.

“Johnny—”

“I know you blocked my number.”

Because you had to.

Because hearing his voice after the breakup felt like reopening stitches every single time.

“You disappeared,” you whispered.

His expression cracked instantly.

“I know.”

“No, you don’t.” your voice shook despite your efforts to stay calm. “You left and suddenly I was supposed to just… continue existing like half my life didn’t vanish overnight.”

Johnny looked devastated now.

Good.

Maybe he deserved to.

“You think I didn’t suffer too?” he asked quietly.

“I think you chose this.”

The second the words left your mouth, regret hit.

Because Johnny physically flinched.

Actually flinched.

Like you’d struck him across the face.

And suddenly you remembered all the things people never saw.

The panic attacks before flights.

The pressure.

The exhaustion.

The nights he held you while apologizing for being absent even when he was sitting right beside you.

Johnny wasn’t cruel.

That would’ve been easier.

He just loved too many things at once and eventually tore himself apart trying to keep all of them.

“I didn’t choose to lose you,” he said softly.

You felt the tears finally spill down your cheeks.

“Then why does it feel like you did?”

Johnny stared at you helplessly.

And for the first time since the breakup, you realized something horrifying.

He looked just as ruined as you felt.

Not healed.

Not happier.

Not moved on.

Ruined.

A couple walked past them laughing loudly, completely unaware that two people were quietly breaking apart beside Gate 14.

Johnny rubbed exhaustedly at his eyes before speaking again.

“Do you know what the worst part was?”

You said nothing.

“Every good thing that happened after I left…” He swallowed hard. “You were still the first person I wanted to tell.”

That nearly destroyed you, because you understood immediately.

The instinct never really leaves.

When something funny happens.

When life gets overwhelming.

When the world feels too heavy.

Or when something beautiful appears suddenly.

You still reach mentally for the person you love most.

Even after they’re gone.

Johnny laughed bitterly to himself. “I’d pick up my phone before remembering I couldn’t call you anymore.”

You looked down quickly because you couldn’t let him see how hard you were crying now.

“I hated you for a while,” you admitted shakily.

“I know.”

“No, I mean really hated you.”

Johnny nodded slowly. “You should’ve.”

“But the problem was…” your voice cracked completely. “I still loved you at the same time.”

Silence.

Heavy, crushing silence.

Johnny’s eyes closed briefly like hearing that physically hurt him.

When he opened them again they looked glassy.

“I never stopped.”

The confession settled between them quietly.

No dramatic music.

No cinematic reunion.

Just grief.

Pure grief.

Because love was still there.

And that was the tragedy.

If the love had disappeared, maybe you could’ve survived losing each other.

Another boarding call echoed overhead.

Final boarding for Flight 247 to Seoul.

Johnny looked toward the gate again automatically.

Time.

Time was happening again.

You suddenly hated time more than anything.

Hated clocks.

Hated planes.

Hated timing.

Because timing was the reason you weren’t together.

Not lack of love.

Not betrayal.

Not cheating.

Timing.

The cruelest thing to lose against because nobody is truly at fault.

Johnny picked up his suitcase slowly.

And your heart started breaking all over again.

“No way,” you whispered before you could stop yourself.

He looked at you carefully. “What?”

“You don’t get to do this to me twice.”

Johnny’s expression collapsed completely.

Because he understood exactly what you meant.

The first goodbye nearly killed you.

This one might finish the job.

“I don’t want to leave like this,” he admitted quietly.

“Then stay.”

The words slipped out accidentally.

And both of you froze.

Johnny stared at you like you'd just reached into his chest and crushed the few remaining pieces of his heart with your bare hands.

For one impossible second— you thought he might actually do it.

You saw it happen on his face.

The hesitation. The longing.

That tiny speck of desperate, dangerous hope.

His grip loosened on the suitcase handle.

Your heart pounded violently.

Stay. Please stay.

But then reality returned.

Slowly.

Cruelly.

Johnny looked toward the gate one last time before looking back at you.

And you knew.

Knew before he even spoke.

Because Johnny had always looked at you like you were something precious.

But he looked at his future like he was terrified to lose it.

And eventually, fear wins.

“I can’t,” he whispered, voice starting to break.

There it was.

The final death sentence.

You nodded slowly despite the tears pouring down your face now.

“Yeah,” you whispered back. “I know.”

Johnny stepped closer then.

Close enough that you could smell his cologne again.

Close enough that muscle memory screamed at you to reach for him.

His voice broke completely when he spoke next.

“You were the best thing that ever happened to me.”

You covered your mouth instantly as a sob nearly escaped you.

“No,” you cried softly. “Don’t say things like that if you’re still leaving.”

Johnny looked like he might start to cry too now.

Maybe he already was.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

And somehow those two words hurt more than everything else combined.

Because you believed him.

He was sorry.

But sorry didn’t fix anything.

Sorry didn’t bring people back.

Sorry didn’t undo all the nights you spent loving each other just to end up here under fluorescent airport lights pretending goodbye was survivable.

The final boarding announcement echoed again.

Johnny exhaled shakily.

Then, with trembling fingers, he reached into his coat pocket and pulled something out.

A small silver keychain.

Your initials engraved into the metal.

You stared at it in shock.

“You still have that?”

Johnny looked down at it quietly. “Couldn’t throw it away.”

Neither could you.

That was the problem.

Neither of you knew how to stop carrying each other.

Johnny placed it gently into your palm before closing your fingers around it carefully.

His touch lingered for one devastating second.

Then disappeared.

“I think,” he said softly, voice breaking, “in another life… we probably made it.”

You felt something inside you shatter completely.

Because you thought so too.

In another life, your love would've been enough.

Johnny stepped backwards slowly after that.

One step

Then another.

You stood frozen, unable to breathe properly, unable to stop crying, unable to ask him to stay again because you already knew the answer.

He looked at you one final time.

Really looked at you.

Like he was memorizing every detail all over again.

Then he smiled.

Not happily.

Just devastatingly enough to ruin you forever.

And finally,

finally—

Johnny turned away.

This time, he didn’t look back.

You watched him disappear into the crowd until there was nothing left of him except memory.

Then the airport swallowed him completely.

Turning him into just another passenger leaving.

And somewhere above the storm clouds that night, Johnny flew towards the future he chose—

whilst you stayed behind grieving the life you almost had.

But in another life, time wasn’t so cruel towards you two. Life cradled your love into her arms and protected it from every harm there was. That love bloomed and bloomed, touching every corner of the world until it reached the whispering stars who told the whole universe about you two.

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