#riize fluff

SHOTARO:

EUNSEOK:

SUNGCHAN:

WONBIN:

SOHEE:

ANTON:

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Song Eunseok ♡

Eunseok is someone who appears stoic on the outside, rather cold and more logical than emotional. He approaches love cautiously and can be a chronic overthinker, afraid of rejection and can at times struggle with expressing himself. But it still doesn't prevent him from being optimistic and giving his all in his relationships, wanting to be seen as a responsible carer and is a rather creative and dreamy thinker, expressing his love in creative ways. Being loved by him is like a warm hug, something that doesn't feel too exciting but you can't help but smile at a gesture that seems small but still makes you giddy.

Jung Sungchan ♡

Sungchan is the perfect balance of a Sun and a Moon kind of boyfriend. He's someone who lights up the room with his presence alone, who is confident in who he is and will not hesitate to show you off. He's a fun, chatty boyfriend who loves hearing you talk and laugh with his jokes or humour, who has a playful, creative way of showing his love. At the same time, he is a gentle, sensitive soul who is loyal to you to a T, who empathizes with you and wants to nurture you and is a passionate, almost possessive lover. He is someone who wants to provide for you and take care of you, wanting the best for you, and wants to keep things balanced, he doesn't like conflicts and prefers if things were peaceful, he doesn't want to see you or be upset himself.

Park Wonbin ♡

Wonbin is a rather balanced thinker and feeler. He is someone who keeps his emotions balanced and hates causing any conflicts or any sort of imbalances even if it means keeping his true feelings suppressed. He is someone who is an independent thinker with unique, almost unconventional ideas and dislikes having his thoughts constricted, he loves expressing his ideas to you. He also has a dreamy approach to love, someone who expresses his love in creative ways such as poems, songs, etc., and can be pretty sweet, sensitive and empathetic when it comes to love. He is a patient person and doesn't like being overly assertive, rather going for a stable, practical approach to doing things even if he can be a little stubborn about it.

Lee Sohee ♡

Sohee has a pretty playful approach to love. He has an optimistic approach to love and loves to look at the brighter side of things. He loves both physical and intellectual stimulation and his love language is basically spending time exploring new places, discussing new ideas or things such as movies, music, etc., he can be a little scatter-brained, wanting to do everything at once. He also is a balanced feeler, keeping his emotions in balance and hates any form of conflicts, and has a good balance between his emotions and thoughts. He can struggle with being a bit too enthusiastic and impulsive with his thoughts and approach to love, sometimes coming off as too blunt or aggressive.

Anton Lee ♡

Anton is basically the embodiment of a big puppy. Someone extremely enthusiastic, loyal, stubborn. He is a direct person who acts on his emotions right away and is assertive and to-the-point with his words. He is an enthusiastic, witty speaker who is not afraid to speak his mind and his emotions are highly attuned to his thoughts. He values stability and security and cares about material, physical and emotional comforts more than anything else, he loves the idea of luxury, soft physical touches and loyalty, so he can get very possessive and highkey stubborn. He is someone who wants to try everything out of curiosity even if he may lose interest in them once the novelty fades. He also is another peace loving boyfriend who prefers a balanced dynamic and hates conflicts.

••••••••••☆••••••••••

you laughed. “me too.” he leaned forward with genuine curiosity. “what was yours?” trying not to smile you answered, “i suddenly remembered i left the stove on." he laughed much harder than he intended to and before long you were laughing with him.

it was strange. barely thirty minutes earlier you couldn’t wait to leave. now you’d completely forgotten to check the time. when the waiter returned to your table and asked, “are we ready to order?” you looked over at shotaro. he looked back at you before asking with a small smile, “i guess we’re staying?” you pretended to think it over before replying, “i suppose i can survive another hour.” he smiled in obvious relief. “good. because i haven’t actually eaten all day.”

by the time dinner was over the restaurant had started emptying around you yet the conversation never really stopped. somehow you had covered everything from work and family to embarrassing childhood stories and favorite foods without either of you acknowledging that this was technically supposed to be a blind date. when the bill finally arrived both of you reached for it at the same time. your hands brushed together before you instinctively pulled away. “sorry,” you both said at exactly the same time making you laugh all over again. shotaro smiled before asking, “can i be honest?” you nodded. “go ahead.” he hesitated for only a second before admitting, “this was a lot better than i expected.”

you smiled softly. “same.” the obvious relief on his face made you laugh. “i thought you were going to hate me,” he confessed. “i thought you were going to be weird,” you admitted. he raised an eyebrow. “am i not?” you smiled. “not really.” his grin only grew wider. “give me time.”

once you stepped outside the restaurant neither of you actually headed toward your cars. somehow the conversation just kept going. five minutes turned into ten and ten somehow became twenty before either of you noticed. eventually you checked your phone and laughed. “my friend has texted me six times.” shotaro pulled out his own phone before shaking his head with a smile. “my sister has sent eight.” you looked up at him. “should we tell them the date wasn’t terrible?” he pretended to think it over for a moment before replying, “let’s make them wait.” you laughed. “you’re petty.” he shrugged with a guilty smile. “a little.”

you finally started walking toward your car before stopping halfway there. turning back toward him you caught his attention. “hey.” he looked up immediately. “yeah?” you smiled to yourself before saying, “this doesn’t have to count as the blind date.” he tilted his head in confusion. “what do you mean?” you looked at him for another second before answering, “if we go out again let’s call it the first date instead.” for a moment, shotaro simply stared at you almost as though he was making sure he’d heard you correctly. then the biggest smile spread across his face, “i’d like that.”

sungchan

moving into your new apartment is supposed to be exciting. you’ve spent weeks unpacking boxes, figuring out where everything goes, and imagining how peaceful it’ll be to finally have your own space. that illusion lasts exactly one night. at 1:27 a.m just as you’re about to fall asleep music starts blasting through the wall beside your bed. you stare at the ceiling convinced it’ll stop in a few minutes. it doesn’t. by the time it finally goes quiet it’s almost four in the morning.

the next day is miserable. you survive work almost entirely on coffee and convince yourself it was probably a one time thing. maybe someone had friends over and they were celebrating moving in. midnight rolls around again and right on schedule the music starts. this time it’s followed by what sounds like furniture scraping across the floor and something heavy hitting the wall. you bury your face in your pillow and groan. “what are you doing over there?” you mutter to yourself.

by the fourth night you’ve officially run out of patience. you write the nicest note you can manage, carefully avoiding anything passive aggressive.

hi!

i live next door. i was just wondering if you could keep the music down a little after midnight. the walls are pretty thin.

thanks so much!

you tape it to the neighboring door before leaving for work, fully expecting the problem to be solved. when you get home that evening the note is gone. for one hopeful second but you think maybe your neighbor actually listened. he first song starts playing at 12:30am. somehow it’s louder than before. you sit upright in bed, staring at the shared wall in complete disbelief. “you’ve got to be kidding me,” you whisper before throwing the blankets off and marching into the hallway. you knock hard enough that your hand stings. a few seconds later the door swings open and your irritation is interrupted by one very inconvenient realization.

your neighbor is hot. like annoyingly, unfairly, ridiculously hot.

he’s tall and dressed in a black hoodie with gray sweatpants. his messy hair somehow made him look better instead of worse. you immediately decide it doesn’t matter. you drill into your head he happens to be the inconsiderate asshole who’s been keeping you awake every night for the past week. he looks at you for a moment completely unbothered, “can i help you?” you fold your arms across your chest. “yeah. you can turn your music down.” he glances over his shoulder into his apartment before looking back at you. “it’s not that loud.” you let out a short humorless laugh. “that’s funny, because i can hear every lyric from my bedroom.” he shrugs without the slightest hint of guilt. “walls are thin.”

you stare at him waiting for him to realize how ridiculous that sounds. when he doesn’t you ask, “that’s your defense?” he gives another lazy shrug. “it’s an old building.” you blink at him. “i left you a note.” his eyebrows lift slightly in recognition. “that was you?” you nod once. “yes.” he nods back just as casually. “i read it.” you wait for the apology that never comes. after a few seconds of silence you tilt your head. “and?” he shrugs again. “i didn’t think it was that serious.” you actually laugh because the alternative would probably get you kicked out of the building. “i haven’t had a full night’s sleep in almost a week.” instead of looking apologetic he tilts his head curiously and asks, “what time do you wake up?” the question catches you so off guard that you answer without thinking. “six.” he lets out a low whistle. “that sucks.” you blink at him in disbelief. “that’s all you have to say?” he looks genuinely confused by the question. “what do you want me to say?” you stare at him for another second before replying “maybe sorry?” he actually considers it, lips pressing together thoughtfully, before giving a small shake of his head. “nah.”

you can’t believe this man is real. “you’re unbelievable,” you say out loud. he lets out an amused laugh before replying, “i’ve heard that. it’s the confidence that annoys you the most you decide. or maybe it’s the smirk. or maybe it’s the fact that he’s objectively attractive and knows it. you notice it obviously. you’re not blind but there is absolutely no chance you’re giving him the satisfaction of knowing that. he could’ve been the hottest man on the planet and it wouldn’t have mattered. as far as you’re concerned he’s still the inconsiderate jerk next door who’s stolen nearly a week’s worth of sleep from you.

you unlock your apartment door and glance back over your shoulder just long enough to tell him, “you’re the worst neighbor i’ve ever had.” he only smiles wider, completely unfazed, “goodnight.” five seconds later the music starts again. you slowly close your eyes, “i actually hate him.”

the weeks after your first argument are somehow even more irritating than the argument itself. the music never gets quite as loud as it used to which almost makes it worse because you know he heard you. instead he seems to keep it at exactly the volume where he can claim he’s being considerate while still making sure you know it’s on. every time you pass each other in the hallway one of you is always leaving just as the other is arriving. he’ll hold the elevator door open and you’ll take the stairs.

before long, the building starts recognizing you as “the neighbors who don’t like each other.” one afternoon mrs. kim from downstairs catches you checking your mailbox and smiles knowingly. “did you two make up yet?” she asks. you don’t even hesitate before answering, “there’s nothing to make up about.” unfortunately sungchan walks into the lobby just in time to hear you. he glances between you and mrs. kim before the corner of his mouth pulls into a smirk. “see?” he says casually. “we’re making progress.” you roll your eyes so hard you’re surprised they don’t get stuck. “don’t flatter yourself,” you shoot back before grabbing your mail and walking away. you can hear him chuckle behind you and it takes every ounce of self control not to turn around.

he’s irritating.

you’ve accepted that.

what you don’t expect is to come home one friday night with mascara running down your cheeks. the date had started fine. it had ended with your date checking his phone halfway through dinner and admitting he “wasn’t really looking for anything serious" and then asking if you’d be offended if he left early because his friends had invited him out. you’d smiled, told him it was fine, waited until he left, and then spent the entire ride home crying quietly in the back of your uber.

it’s nearly midnight by the time you get back to your apartment building. you wipe quickly at your face before pushing through the front entrance hoping no one notices. of course, your luck runs out immediately. sungchan is sitting on the front steps with a drink in one hand and an earbud in the other. the second he hears the door open, he looks up. “rough night?” he asks but the teasing tone you’re used to isn’t there. you freeze for half a second before looking away silently praying the poor lighting hides your face. it doesn’t. he quietly pulls his earbud out, studies you for another moment and asks much more softly, “someone made you cry?”

you sniff once, already annoyed that he noticed. “mind your business,” you mumble as you start toward the entrance. normally he would’ve answered with something sarcastic. instead he stands and takes a few steps toward you, stopping far enough away that you don’t feel cornered. “come here,” he says gently. you let out a watery laugh and shake your head. “absolutely not.” he doesn’t push. instead he slips his hands into the pockets of his hoodie and watches you for a second before asking, “did he dump you?” you look away, embarrassed by how obvious it apparently is. “something like that,” you admit quietly. sungchan lets out a disappointed sigh before muttering, “idiot.”

you glance back at him, confused. “you don’t even know him,” you point out. he shrugs. “don’t need to,” he replies. “any guy who makes a girl come home looking like that is an idiot.” for a moment you don’t know what to say. it’s easily the nicest thing he’s ever said to you which somehow makes it even more annoying. you look down at the ground and quietly insist, “i’m fine.” he doesn’t buy it for a second. “no you’re not,” he says and when you repeat, “i said i’m fine,” he simply studies you for another moment before shaking his head. “you’re a terrible liar.”

you roll your eyes at him and scoff. “there it is,” he says with a small smile. he looks oddly pleased with himself. you let out a long sigh and rub under your eyes trying to fix your mascara. “don’t make this weird,” you warn. “i’m trying not to.” the two of you stand there in comfortable silence for a few seconds before sungchan looks down at the sidewalk, kicks lightly at a loose pebble, and says almost absentmindedly, “you know i could treat you way better than that.” the words catch you so off guard that you stop moving.

“excuse me?”

he finally looks back up at you and his expression is completely serious. “i’m serious.” you stare at him searching his face for the punchline. he lets out an awkward laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “look i’m not saying you should date me,” he says quickly only for you to raise an eyebrow and reply, “you literally just implied it.” “yeah,” he admits after a beat. “that came out a lot smoother in my head.” for the first time you laugh. it slips out before you can stop it. the sound makes him smile. you shake your head still smiling despite yourself. you open the door to the building and look back at sungchan, “you’re still the worst neighbor i’ve ever had.” his hands are still tucked into his hoodie pocket as he follows behind you. “yeah?” he asks.

“yeah."

seunghan

seunghan slipped into the lecture hall just before class started, quietly scanning the room until his eyes landed on the only empty seat left. the one beside you. he hesitated for a second. “… is this seat taken?” he asked softly. you looked around the nearly full classroom before shaking your head. “no.” “oh.” he nodded once. “okay.” he sat down carefully, setting his backpack at his feet. after that, he didn’t say another word. halfway through the lecture your professor asked everyone to compare notes with the person beside them because one of the slides had gone by too quickly.

you turned toward seunghan and he looked up at the exact same time. for a second neither of you spoke then he quietly slid his notebook toward you. his handwriting was neat except there were only about four lines of actual notes. you looked at him and he looked away first. “… i write kind of slow,” he admitted. you smiled a little before turning your notebook toward him instead. “you can copy mine.” he blinked, “… really?” you nodded.

the next few weeks settled into an unspoken routine. you always sat in the same seat and he always ended up beside you. sometimes he got there first and put his bag on your seat for yoy. sometimes you did. neither of you ever mentioned it. you noticed he wrote down almost everything the professor said but somehow still looked confused every lecture. he noticed you answered questions without ever raising your hand first. whenever the professor asked something and the room stayed quiet, you would sigh softly before answering anyway and he always looked relieved when you did.

it wasn’t until the first exam grades were handed back that everything finally made sense. you glanced sideways when seunghan let out the quietest, most defeated, “… oh,” before immediately flipping the paper over as though hiding the grade would somehow erase it. you had already seen the bright red forty eight percent. he noticed your expression change and looked like he wanted the floor to open beneath him. “please don’t,” he muttered, refusing to meet your eyes as he gripped the edge of the paper a little tighter. “don’t what?” you asked, keeping your voice gentle instead of teasing. he let out a quiet sigh. “look at me.” his embarrassment was written all over his face. you bit back a smile. “i wasn’t judging you,” you said honestly hoping he’d believe you.

“you should,” he mumbled still staring at his desk instead of you. class ended a few minutes later. you packed your bag while he remained sitting there, staring at the exam as though the grade might change if he waited long enough. you were halfway out of your seat when he finally spoke. “… can i ask you something?” he asked. his voice was so hesitant that you stopped immediately and turned back toward him. “yeah?” you answered, waiting patiently. he rubbed the back of his neck, looking painfully uncomfortable. “… this is embarrassing,” he admitted, letting out an awkward laugh that held absolutely no confidence. “okay,” you said patiently, folding your arms as you waited for him to continue instead of rushing him. he glanced down at the exam in front of him. “… i’m kind of failing now,” he admitted. “kind of?” you repeated, raising an eyebrow. “… very.” his correction came with a defeated sigh that made it impossible not to smile. he noticed immediately. “i knew you were gonna laugh,” he complained though there wasn’t any real annoyance behind it. “i’m not laughing at you,” you replied trying to sound more convincing than you felt. “close enough,” he muttered.

another awkward silence settled between you before he took a deep breath. “would you …” he started, only to stop and shake his head. “… could you tutor me?” his eyes stayed fixed firmly on the floor. before you could answer he rushed to add, “you don’t have to. actually forget i asked. that’s probably weird.” the words tumbled out so quickly it was obvious he was already regretting asking. “seunghan,” you said making him finally look up. “i’ll tutor you.” the answer came so easily that he blinked in surprise “…really?” he asked, searching your face as if he expected you to change your mind. “really,” you confirmed with a small nod. he studied you for another second before asking, “you don’t think i’m hopeless?”

“i think you need help,” you admitted honestly. for the first time since you’d met him, he laughed under his breath instead of apologizing. “that’s probably true,” he agreed, rubbing the back of his neck once more. “library tomorrow?” you asked as you adjusted your backpack onto your shoulder, already knowing what his answer would be. he nodded almost immediatly. “good." you smiled at him, turning around to leave.

the first tutoring session lasted almost three hours. it was not because seunghan wasn’t trying. if anything he was trying too hard. he frowned at every page of the textbook like it had personally offended him and reread the same paragraph four different times. “wait,” he said quietly, tapping the page with his pencil. “if this happened before this … then why are they talking about it here?” his eyebrows pinched together as he looked from the textbook to your notes completely puzzled by what he was reading. you leaned over to see what he was pointing at. “because they’re comparing the two events,” you explained as you drew a quick timeline in the margin of his notebook. “look. if you put them in order first it makes a lot more sense.” you turned the notebook toward him so he could follow the arrows you had just drawn.

he watched you write before looking back at the chapter. “oh,” he murmured as the realization finally beginning to settle in. “does that make sense now?” you asked. you glanced over at him to make sure you hadn’t lost him again. he nodded once. “yeah. i think i was making it more complicated than it actually is.” his shoulders relaxed a little as he looked back down at the page. “you’ve done that with almost every chapter,” you teased. he looked mildly embarrassed. “i have?” he asked. “a little. but im joking,” you admitted with a grin. the answer earned a quiet laugh from him as he rubbed the back of his neck.

by the time the library announced it would be closing soon his notebook looked completely different. it was filled with timelines, arrows, little explanations you’d squeezed into the margins, and enough sticky notes to double its thickness. he closed it carefully before looking over at you. “i actually understood that,” he admitted sounding more surprised than proud of himself. “see?” you smiled. “you’re not bad at history.” you leaned back in your chair happy to finally see some confidence on his face. “i got a forty,” he reminded you. “because you panic,” you answered. “also true,” he admitted with a small sigh.

you packed your things while he slowly organized his backpack. just as you slung your bag over your shoulder he spoke again. “can i ask you something?” his voice was hesitant enough that you stopped before taking another step. you turned back toward him. “sure." his fingers fidgeting with the zipper of his backpack. “how much do i owe you?”

you blinked in confusion. “for today,” he clarified. “or all of it i guess. however you charge.” the explanation came out in one nervous rush like he was trying to get it over with before he lost his courage. you couldn’t help smiling. “charge?” you repeated. he nodded immediately. “you spent three hours helping me.”

“i know,” you replied.

“so" he looked down at the table for a second before continuing. “it doesn’t feel right if i don’t pay you.” you pretended to think about it for a moment, tapping your finger against your chin. “okay,” you said eventually, watching him immediately reach for his wallet.

“one date.”

his hand stopped halfway to his pocket. “what?" “one date,” you repeated. “that’s how you can pay me.” he stared at you. “… a date?” the question sounded more like he was asking for confirmation that he’d heard you correctly. “yeah,” you answered trying not to laugh at the expression on his face. he looked around the library like someone else might explain what was happening. “with …” he slowly pointed at himself. “… me?” the disbelief in his voice made your smile even wider. you laughed softly. “yes, seunghan. with you.” his mouth opened and then closed. “are you serious?” he asked. "why wouldn't i be?" you tilted your head. "i thought you were just being nice to me.” he looked down at the table again. “i was,” you answered honestly. “no,” he corrected quietly. “i mean … i didn’t think his His sentence faded away before he could finish it. you decided to help him out, “liked you?” “yeah,” he admitted after a long pause.

you smiled at him. “i do.” he looked down at the table for a few seconds, smiling to himself before finally looking back up again. “i think that’s cheaper than tutoring,” he joked quietly. “depends where you take me,” you answered with a grin. “i can probably afford coffee,” he offered. “coffee sounds perfect,” you watched him nod almost immediately. “okay,” his tone was a little more confident. “it’s a date.”

wonbin

wonbin’s first memory of you was you shoving him hard enough that he landed on the wood chips underneath the playground slide back in kindergarten. he hadn’t even done anything. he’d just been waiting his turn. you looked down at him for a second before climbing up the slide like nothing had happened. when the teacher asked what happened, you shrugged innocently, “he fell.” wonbin looked at you in complete disbelief.

he knew you pushed him and you knew you pushed him.

somehow you still got away with it. that became a pattern throughout the school year. you weren't mean to anyone else. it was just to him. if he was quietly coloring, you’d lean over and scribble on the edge of his paper before running away laughing. if he built something during free play, you’d “accidentally” knock it over. if he lined up first after recess you’d squeeze in front of him.

every time your teacher caught you she’d let out the same tired sigh before looking between the two of you. “again?” she would ask. “it was an accident,” you’d insist every single time. your teacher would cross her arms, “you’ve had a lot of accidents around wonbin,” she’d point out patiently. you’d glance over at him for a second before looking back at your teacher with an awkward little shrug. “… yeah.”

after a while wonbin stopped trying to defend himself. instead he’d quietly pick his crayons back up off the floor, rebuild whatever you’d knocked over, or step back into line after you’d squeezed in front of him. “why are you like this?” he’d mumble, sounding confused rather than angry. you never had an answer for him because you genuinely didn’t know. all you knew was that if wonbin was somewhere, you somehow ended up there too.

it got bad enough that one afternoon wonbin’s mom finally walked into the classroom after school to talk to the teacher. she’d watched her son come home one too many times complaining about the same little girl and she couldn’t understand why you seemed to have made him your personal target. your mom happened to be picking you up at the same time and before long both of them were standing outside the classroom while the teacher explained, with the exhausted expression of someone who’d repeated herself a hundred times already, that you only ever seemed to bother one child. “she’s actually very sweet with everyone else,” the teacher admitted. “it’s just … wonbin.”

wonbin’s mom looked over at you where you were hiding halfway behind your own mother’s leg before looking back at your mom with an apologetic smile. “i promise i’m not upset,” she said gently. “i’m just trying to figure out what my son did.” your mom sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “trust me,” your mom replied, “i’ve been asking her the same question for months.” she crouched down in front of you and asked, “why are you being so mean?” you stared at your shoes for so long that all four adults thought you weren’t going to answer. finally you shrugged. “i don’t know.” and somehow that was the truth. you weren’t trying to be mean. you just couldn’t seem to leave him alone.

the conversation didn’t magically fix everything. you still bothered him all through the rest of kindergarten, although the shoving slowly turned into smaller things. you’d hide his eraser in your desk and then dramatically “find” it when he couldn’t. sometimes you’d sit in his chair before he got back from sharpening his pencil just because you thought the annoyed little sigh he’d let out was funny. every single time he’d look at you with the exact same expression and ask, “seriously?” and every single time you’d grin back like you hadn’t done anything wrong.

by first grade, though, the teasing had started to lose its edge. you still bothered him but now you also talked to him. if you stole his pencil, you’d hand it back after making him chase you around the classroom once. if you cut in front of him in line, you’d save him the spot next to you. somewhere along the way the teachers stopped separating the two of you because somehow you always found your way back to each other anyway.

that spring your class read a picture book about something you forgot about and your teacher decided the best way to celebrate finishing it was with a pretend wedding. construction paper flowers covered the classroom, paper rings were passed around, and everyone’s names were pulled out of a bucket to decide the pairs. when your teacher unfolded the slip of paper with both your names on it wonbin buried his face in his hands while you looked around in complete horror. “not him,” you complained immediately. “not her,” wonbin answered just as quickly.

the ceremony lasted less than five minutes. your teacher handed both of you little paper rings, “do you promise to be nice to each other?” wonbin answered first with a quiet, “i’ll try.” you crossed your arms stubbornly before mumbling, “… fine.” you looked over at wonbin expecting him to look as embarrassed as you felt only to find him trying very hard not to laugh. against your own will you laughed too.

after that day things slowly became different. by middle school you couldn’t even remember the last time you’d shoved him. instead you found yourselves sitting together during lunch because it was easier than finding new seats. you’d walk home in the same direction after school, complaining about homework or teachers or whatever game everyone was obsessed with that month. one afternoon wonbin stopped in the middle of the sidewalk and looked at you suspiciously. “you haven’t stolen anything from me in like … two years.” you blinked at him. “do you want me to?” he laughed immediately. “no.”

freshman year of high school arrived before either of you really noticed. one afternoon after classes ended the two of you ended up sitting on the football field while everyone else headed home. you were talking about elementary school when wonbin suddenly shook his head with a quiet laugh. “you know,” he admitted, “i really thought you hated me back then.” you looked over at him in complete disbelief. “what?” he smiled. “you bullied me for, like, two years.” you covered your face with your hands. “i know.” for a long moment neither of you said anything. then you looked over at him again. “can i ask you something?”

wonbin turned toward you without a second thought. “sure,” he answered, completely unaware of where the conversation was about to go. you took a small breath before finally saying it. “will you go out with me?” for a second wonbin thought he’d heard you wrong. “are you serious?” he asked quietly. he searched your face to see if you were joking. you nodded once but all of the confidence you’d had thirty seconds earlier had completely disappeared. “yeah,” you admitted, suddenly finding the football field much more interesting than looking at him.

wonbin didn’t answer right away. slowly the corners of his mouth lifted into the softest smile “i’ve been waiting for you to ask,” he confessed. you immediately looked back at him with a frown. “you couldn’t have asked me?” you complained. wonbin laughed, shaking his head as he leaned back on his hands. “i figured i’d already survived kindergarten,” he teased, looking over at you with a grin. “i didn’t want to push my luck.”

sohee

sohee met you before either of you could properly spell your own names. your moms had been friends so it was almost impossible to find you without sohee. if someone asked where you were, the answer was usually, “with sohee.” if someone asked where sohee was, the answer was usually, “with yn.”

the only problem was that somewhere around middle school sohee stopped looking at you like just his best friend. by freshman year of high school, he was hopelessly enamored with you. everyone else figured it out long before you did “just ask her out,” sungchan would tell him.

“she doesn’t like me like that," sohee played with his grey mystery food from the cafeteria. “how do you know?” seunghan pressed. sohee would just shrug. you treated him exactly the same as you always had. you held onto his arm when you were cold and asked for his hoodie. you called him whenever something good happened. you made him carry your backpack when your shoulders hurt. you told him every crush you had, every almost relationship, and every guy who’d asked for your number. every single time sohee smiled, nodded, gave whatever advice you asked for. then he went home wondering why he kept doing this to himself. “you’re literally in love with her,” anton sighed in your junior year. “i know," sohee buried his head in his hands. he raised his eyebrows, “and you’re still listening to her talk about other guys?” sohee looked down before quietly answering, “she’s my best friend first.”

if being her best friend was all he’d ever get to be he’d take it. he’d rather have that than lose you entirely.

senior year started but something about that year felt different almost immediately. you started choosing the seat next to him instead of across the room. you lingered after basketball practice to wait while he finished helping clean up. you texted him about nothing more often. he noticed every little change and refused to let himself hope. it wasn’t until october that everything shifted.

you’d gone to a school football game together, squeezed onto the cold aluminum bleachers with the rest of your friends. everyone else eventually wandered off for snacks, leaving the two of you alone. it was colder than expected. without thinking you reached over and slipped your hand into the pocket of his hoodie to warm it. you’d done things like that before yet sohee couldn't help but stare. after a minute you looked over, “why are you looking at me like that?”

he blinked, “…like what?”

“like your brain stopped working." you laughed quietly while sohee stared at you still, shaking your head before looking back toward the field “you’re cute.” his heart stopped. from that night on you started noticing things you’d somehow ignored for years. you noticed the way he always walked on the outside of the sidewalk and the way he remembered every tiny thing you mentioned, even months later. one afternoon, a few weeks later, you were sitting on the hood of his car after school. you looked over at him, “can i ask you something?" you hesitated for a moment before looking over at him. “how long have you liked me?” sohee went completely still. "who told you?” “nobody.” you shrugged, picking at the skin by your nails. “i just finally noticed.” he looked down at his hands, embarrassed enough that the tips of his ears turned pink. “a while.”

“how long is ‘a while’?” you asked. he let out a nervous laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “do you really want to know?” when you nodded he took a slow breath before quietly admitting, “since i was thirteen." your eyes widened. “thirteen?” he nodded, "i just thought the crush would go away."

“and?”

he finally looked over at you with the same soft expression he’d been wearing for years. “it didn’t. the two of you sat in silence for a long moment. then you smiled. “you know” you nudged his shoulder gently with yours. “i think i’m finally catching up.” he frowned in confusion. “what?”you looked away. suddenly the parking lot much more interesting than his face. “i said i think i’m finally catching up.” he looked at you confused, “to what?” you groaned, already feeling your confidence slipping away. “sohee.” he frowned in confusion. “what?” you rolled your eyes, “to you and your feelings. ” it took a full five seconds for the words to register. finally his eyes went impossibly wide, "wait.” you laughed nervously. “yeah.” he blinked at you again still trying to process what he’d just heard. “wait.” you covered your face “you’re really making me regret saying this.” "no. no, don’t.” he was smiling so hard it made you smile too. “i just” he shook his head in complete disbelief before laughing quietly to himself. “i’ve wanted to hear that for years.” you reached over and intertwined your fingers with his. “good thing we still have senior year left.” sohee looked down at your hand resting in his before giving it the gentlest squeeze. he’d spent four years convincing himself that being your best friend was enough. he never imagined he’d get to be anything more yet here you were.

anton

anton hadn’t even wanted to go to the party. if it had been up to him he would’ve spent the night at his apartment watching a movie or catching up on assignments. but wonbin had shown up at his door with the sole purpose of dragging him out of the house. after nearly twenty minutes of complaining that college parties weren’t his thing anton eventually gave in mostly because he knew wonbin wasn’t going to leave until he did.

you, on the other hand, had been looking forward to the party all week. by the time anton and wonbin walked through the front door you’d already been there for hours. the music was deafening, the house was packed shoulder to shoulder with people, and somewhere between your first drink and whatever you were up to now someone had convinced you that dancing on top of the living room coffee table was a fantastic idea.

from where anton was standing he noticed you almost immediately. it was practically impossible not to. you were loud enough for half the house, laughing so hard you nearly doubled over as your friends cheered you on from below. he barely had enough time to wonder before you took one step backward and your foot slipped on the edge of the table. suddenly you were falling directly toward him.

he instinctively reached out to catch you but instead the two of you crashed into each other and ended up sprawled across the sticky hardwood floor. for a second neither of you moved. you looked up at the poor stranger you’d just fell on and blinked at him through your alcohol induced haze. you burst into laughter. anton’s face was bright red before he’d even managed to sit up. any normal person probably would’ve apologized, introduced themselves, and never spoken to each other again.