#taesan fluff

it had started the day you were introduced as the newest hire to the team, with your shy smile and nervous wave that made his heart skip a beat for no good reason. then the tiny moments that followed throughout the next month: sitting next to him at team dinners and outings, talking together during lunch breaks, cracking jokes about your boss’ tall tales of bygone youthful days when no one was around. you were funny and kind, and through you didn’t talk much, when you did, he found himself in awe of the things you had to say. it was honestly quite surprising, how fast he found himself looking forward to seeing you again when you waved goodbye at the end of each work day.

which was all to say, dongmin had known that inviting you to his family home would end up being trouble.

what he hadn’t known was that the trouble would start quite so… soon.

perhaps he should have expected this to happen when you walked into the office later than usual this morning. not that your tardy arrival was itself an issue (he wasn’t sure your boss agreed, though), but that on top of the rather… prominent eyebags darkening your skin and the way you all but collapsed into your chair, audible from across the office, was a little concerning.

when he made his way over to your desk a few minutes past lunchtime, you barely even noticed, completely absorbed in your computer screen. leaning against the wall that surrounded your workspace, he waved his hands by your face. it took you a moment before you jumped slightly, breaking out of whatever transfixion the computer had you in. “dongmin!”

“hey,” he grinned, crossing his arms over his chest as you leaned back in your chair, stretching. “you hungry yet?”

you blinked before looking around. the office was empty - something that you only just seemed to notice. you turned back to him, furrowing your eyebrows (your eyebrows, of all things! what was he, a goner?) in a way that made something flutter in his chest. “where is everyone?”

“gone,” he hummed, pushing himself off the wall and holding out a hand to you. “already on lunch break.” i waited for you so we can eat together.

when you slipped your hand into his, your skin warm in the grasp of his palm, it took everything in him to not melt into a puddle on the floor right then and there. “i’m so out of it today,” you murmured to yourself as he pulled you up. he had half a mind to keep holding your hand, but when you let go to rummage in your bag for the lunch you’d packed, he (begrudgingly) complied.

when the two of you arrived at the cafeteria, you paused in your tracks at the entrance. dongmin looked back at you, tilting his head. “you okay?”

“you were right,” you breathed, gazing out at the markedly less busy cafeteria. “people do go home for the long weekends.”

dongmin took a deep breath. “and so will you.”

(your first extended time off in seoul. dongmin had been a bit worried about you, to be honest. you’d mentioned not having the time yet to go out and meet new people, throwing yourself into your work as soon as you’d moved to the big city. even in the office, you mostly kept to yourself unless someone reached out to you first.

so the gears had started turning in his head.

you’d mentioned wanting to see more of the korean countryside. his parents have been telling him to visit, to bring some friends too. this way, you could explore areas you’d never been to, see sights that were new. and… he’d get to spend more time with you too.

a win-win situation, right?)

your cheeks pulled up into a bright smile at his comment, one that would have him going weak in the knees had he not been bracing himself against the onslaught of your beauty. “i’m so excited! thank you, dongmin. truly.”

“of course,” he’d replied with as much grace as he could muster, ears burning.

right now, though, he was really starting to question the state of his mind when he’d concocted this grand scheme to spend a weekend with you.

because right now, you were gazing up at him with the most devastating, sleepy eyes known to mankind.

the train rattles over another divot in the tracks, causing dongmin and the other people packed around him stumbling into the seats lining the edges of the cars. you were seated directly in front of him, startling slightly as the train car shook around you.

“it's okay,” he says as your wide eyes met his own. “seoul rush hour is kind of always like this.”

you nod slowly, looking around you slowly as the train rolls into the stop. you let dongmin take you by the hand, let him make sure you have your bag and are walking fast enough beside him as he leads you through the station, and dongmin doesn't know how to explain even to himself how warm and fuzzy he feels all over from the warmth of your hand.

is it normal to feel this much?

he doesn't know.

when you arrive at your connecting station and are waiting for the train on the platform, dongmin notices you haven't let go of his hand yet.

selfishly, he holds on tighter.

you speak into the relative silence of the hustle and bustle around you. “i can't wait to meet your sister,” you say, staring straight ahead. “from all the stories you've told me, she seems sweet.”

dongmin smiles. “she's going to really like you, i think.”

(if his siblings realized just how down bad he was for you, though, he’d never hear the end of it.)

the two of you say nothing else in the ten minutes it takes for your train to pull into the station, but dongmin feels his heart flutter all the same when you squeeze his hand.

you find your seats and stow away your bags before claiming your seats, and for a minute, all the fatigue disappears from your eyes as you gaze out the window, watching the scenery go from bustling city to quiet suburbs to green nature. then you settle back in your seat, and dongmin can see sleep pulling at your features.

“tired?” he asks.

you shake your head, but a yawn betrays you. “a bit,” you admit. “had a bit of a late night.”

for some reason, his heart is pounding (so hard in his chest it hurts) when he says, “you can lean on me. sleep for a bit.”

and you look at him with wide eyes and a bit of color on your cheeks, and you ask “really?” in that soft voice of yours that has him falling into the abyss of loving you, over and over again in tiny ways that you can’t know have that effect on him.

he nods.

you shift in your seat, tilting your head until you’re resting entirely on his shoulder, and dongmin has to keep himself from inhaling sharply. this feels… different. your skin is warm against his own, even through the fabric of his shirt. you exhale gently, and the motion has you settling more snugly into the curve of his arm.

the weight of you feels… comforting, somehow.

and so dongmin does something he never thought he’d do in a situation like this.

he leans his own head to the side, resting the side of his face against the soft strands of your hair.

(is he deluding himself, or can he feel the way your cheeks push up into a smile?)

dongmin can feel himself relaxing against your side, and he has half a mind to close his eyes and let the afternoon roll by.

perhaps spending the weekend with you wouldn’t be so much trouble after all.

٠ ࣪⭑ © starriniqhts 2026, all rights reserved.

⋆.˚ ☾⭒.˚ want to check out the planetarium's other exhibits?

When you're staying overtime to bring into life a new design, they're expected to go home and scrub themselves clean—as ladies should. They have to prime their skin and coil their hairs, and they enjoy it, but you on the other hand—you’re wiping sweat off your brow well into the night during most weeks. They aren't all that different from you in age, but there's already been talks of them entering society, finding suitors. 

You're no good for marriage. Dress-making is your calling. Your destiny.

It's hard, but it's the life you're most suited to fare. 

And you're okay with it because you have to be. Any bigger a dream, and high expectations will simply crush you to dust—its best to keep to the known, the little cocoon of a life you’ve lived till now. 

Today, today though—you can’t seem to stop look away from the shop window, and from the commotion that seemed to be unravelling through it. 

You're so dazed by the trumpets and dancing petals and soldiers on white horses that you barely feel the shadow falling over you from behind. 

“Boo!”

It startles you out of your stool, nearly bumping your elbow into the desk’s edge and spilling a pair of scissors and tape onto the wooden floor. Your heart only calms to a safe rhythm once you see that's it just your sister playing her tricks on you.

“Jiyu!” you reprimand feebly, catching your breath, scowling at how she’s giggling without a care. “What is it now? Father said you shouldn't keep hanging around here with nothing to do.”

“He made an exception today,” she tosses back easily, grabbing an eraser off the table to toy with until you grab it back. “Haeum and I convinced him with some sweet talk, of course. After all, it's the Queen’s parade! There will be soldiers to watch and toss flowers at. Do you think one of them will look my way?”

You want to roll your eyes at her bubbliness. She's always like this—the both of them, really. But you're honest when you say, “Yes, no doubt you'll catch everyone's attention. You're beautiful.”

Because she is. The way she smiles so brightly in response, teeth exposed and cheeks full like she doesn't think twice about her flaws—which don't exist—just drives home your point. They're both blessed with kindness and loveliness and beauty, and you were bestowed the duty to carry on the family business, hold up the finances that your father alone couldn't manage. 

But it's okay when you love your family and you're quite happy with your job. 

It's okay. Really. 

“You should come with!” Jiyu brings you back to the present, hopping on her toes and swishing her frilly skirt all over your plain flat one. “C’mon, Y/N, you stay cooped up all day at that desk of yours. Surely you can afford a few minutes away to forage for some handsome fellas.” She winks suggestively. 

It doesn't even bring a blush to your cheeks. She should know you've sworn off romance in this lifetime. It's not like you'll have any luck if you try anyways—true love and fairytale magic was for the privileged and the pretty. You were neither. 

“It'll be fu-unnn,” she sing-songs enticingly, wiggling her eyebrows in a way that just makes her look even more endearing. “Maybe you'll meet a wizard! Or a flying ship like they've been saying they made. Oh, it'll be novel, won't it!?” 

You've never been good at saying no to her requests; she's half your heart, really, and the other half is Haeum. You've been taught to care for them since you were a child—so it's a hard habit to break now. Wherever they go, and if they let you, you would follow. 

She's about to try again when you cut her off with a swift, “Fine.” You gather yourself up, dusting off the eraser shavings and chalk powder off your clothes. “But only for a few minutes. Just to look.”

She seems more than happy to settle for that, launching to lead you by the wrist to the parade before you can even check to see if your face is clean yet. Thankfully, you do manage to grab a hat for your unruly hair before you've made it out. 

It's noise and colours, everywhere. More vibrant than you have ever seen the city since the war was officially announced months ago. 

Fork-tongued flags and streamers hoisted on poles, miniature copies in people's fists, a brilliant shade of blue gracing the city square. The sound of horns is louder than ever, the procession in the middle of the street filled with men in dark hats and big mustaches, in their stiff uniforms. Dancers twirling feathery sticks, in their dreamy dresses that float like air. And through the gap in the crowd, you can see the queen herself hoisted up on a man-powered carriage—her sharp eyes still notable under the solid gold crown. 

“Wow,” you hear yourself whisper, tightening your hold on Jiyu’s hand without meaning to. “All this for her birthday… How breathtaking…”

“Isn't it?” your sister whispers from beside you, but her expression has gone distant and lovesick, swooning at the way a young man in uniform winks at her as he passes by. Once he's out of sight and hearing, she squeals in delight. “Oh, did you see that, Y/N!? He winked at me!! Where is Haeum-ie, she needs to know!”

The two are more interconnected than you were ever with either of them, two peas in a pod, so it only takes one small turn of Jiyu’s eyes to find Haeum on the other side of the parade, waving back at you like she'd picked up the conversation from all the way over there, strangely telepathic in the ways only sisters can be.

And without waiting for the people to finish passing by, Jiyu—who is the most impulsive out of you three—rush forward into the crowd to greet Haeum. You jab your hand forward to stop her by the arm, but she's too quick and lithe, already vanished into a mass of bodies. 

First, the panic hits. You can't lose your little sister—you’d be dead before sundown if that happened! 

Then you see both of them giggling to each other, swiveling around to wave you over, urging you to take a leap of faith and just maneuver through the crowd, too. 

“I—” Complaints die on your tongue when you realise no one can hear. You take a step forward, trying to push past someone, but they shove backwards unknowingly. You end up whispering a sorry on instinct and going the opposite direction, again with no avail. 

It feels like an awkward dance with yourself, like an ant trying to go around a crumb and failing miserably, pushing into excited people and the occasional lamppost blocking the way. In no time have you almost tripped over a dent in the pavement, spun around three times in dizzying speed, somehow carried by the wave of the crowd all the way to the emptier part of the street, behind everyone. 

It's such a sudden relief that you immediately rush for the alleyway on the side, desperate to get away from the uncomfortable ruckus. Your sisters would be fine, you tell yourself to calm down, they have each other. They may be easy to impress with a couple flashy grins, but they can take care of one another at least. You just need to get back to them without losing yourself.

Which might be a problem. Because you can't exactly tell where you are right now—the city is big and maze-like to begin with, the festivities has rendered it somewhat unrecognisable during wartime. 

It's your feet that do most of the thinking, moving on its own accord in the direction it feels is the most safe, leading you to a quieter, more shadowed, almost empty lane, seemingly in the middle of nowhere. 

Until you hear footsteps approaching. 

“Ooh, look, a lost kitten,” someone whistles out from behind you, and you turn in fear.

“Well hello there,” another one joins in a similar teasing tone—a man’s, deep and gruff like he sucks on a smoke-pipe all day. “Mind if you lift that hat of yours so we can get a better look?”

They smirk and guffaw between themselves, their looming height and intimidating soldier-uniforms coming into view when you brave a small peek. A gulp travels down your throat, and they seem to enjoy scaring you even more at that.

“I have to go—” you begin, but one of them shushes you softly, taking a step closer. It forces you to take a step backwards, but it's to your horror that you realise you've landed against a wall, with nowhere to run to as the two of them crowd you on either side. “My sisters are waiting for me,” you manage to spit out. “I need to go to them.”

“They won't mind though, would they? Surely they're busy celebrating out there. Doubt they'll even notice you're gone.”

Your blood freezes, their over-friendly demeanour sending a chill down your spine as they get up in your space. A discreet hand of yours slip into your dress’s pocket (that you'd stitched up for ease of carrying around your yarn in the shop), and thumbs around a tiny needle stuck into it. It doesn't hurt you, but you don't know how you can use it to distract them enough to run away. They keep flirting and proding even after knowing you don't want to engage.

“C’mon now, you don't need to lie to reject us,” one of them says again, sneering. “No need to make up sisters and obligations. I can tell you've got no one waiting for you. So why don't you come along and we can keep you company on a date?”

Tears begin to prickle in your eyes, but the second you think you're going to break, a lilting voice cuts through the echoing alleyway.

“There you are,” he smiles in a greeting, and your head shoots up. “I’m sorry I’m late. I was looking everywhere for you.”

A gentle weight falls over your shoulder—there, but barely touching. The soldiers’ brows furrow in confusion, then anger, as they take in the taller man who has interrupted the scene. 

Flaxen hair that shines like sunlight, unmarred skin that seems to brighten up even in the grimy alley, looking so out of place. He has a thick, checkered cape, billowy white shirt underneath, and an emerald earring dangling from one of his ears.

You feel like you should know this person.

“Who in the world are you—” the soldier's protest is cut short when the blond man lowers his head just slightly, to whisper, “Take a walk. Don't come back,” in the most entrancing voice you've heard. It's commanding and playful at the same time. Like a spell, almost.

As though suddenly obedient, the soldiers stiffen like wooden boards, and they march out of the alley like their feet have lost control, panicking the entire time. 

“What—”

“It isn't safe here,” the blond says, his silky hair brushing over your cheek when he leans to whisper like it's a secret, like you're being followed and he doesn't want eavesdroppers. “Come with me.”

And maybe it's the way he says it that's so compelling—like his voice is made of sugar and honey and melted wax, or the way he smells like sunshine in a field of flowers. Beautiful. You let him lead you out, your hand somehow having moved to hold his elbow he offers, all gentlemanly.

He walks like he's floating, soft and swift, through the streets and up a flight of stairs that land you at the long hallway-like balcony of several doors—a motel, you think. Downstairs, the procession is thinning in a distance, music reaching you in bits and pieces.

“My sisters are over there,” you hear yourself say.

The man next to you smiles. “I’ll take you there,” he hums. “But you’ll need to be brave for this next bit.”

You look at him, startled, but when that does nothing but bring his features even closer to your sight, it runs reddened heat down your ears and neck.

Everything is so… ethereal about him. As though he isn't real or tangible in any sense, even though your grip on him is solid, and you can wager that this isn't a dream no matter how much it feels like one. His eyes are brown, but there's green swimming in it, like little mossy fish. Then he does the thing that makes you backtrack on considering whether this wasn't a dream after all—he steps up onto the wooden railing of the balcony, and balances himself there like it's easy as pie.

“Now you,” he says, a twinkle in his eye.

“What!? No I can't—”

“You trust me, don't you?” He sounds confident, a palm extended for you to take, spine dipping like he's asking you to a waltz.

And you. You are scared. But you do still trust him, because a strange, inexplicable part of you thinks you know this man. That this is not your first meeting, even if you don't even know his name yet.

So maybe that's why you accept his hand.

“Extend a leg, then walk,” he instructs softly, not minding how you immediately grasp onto his shirt when it occurs to you how high you really are. A fall could injure you terribly.

“Walk? What do you mean, walk?”

“Like this.” He demonstrates by extending a long leg off the railing and into the empty space in front, coaxing you to follow. You press closer to him, not knowing what any of this is, but knowing it feels right to listen. “Good girl,” he adds with a smile when you manage to do it right, one leg in front of another, over air. And you're walking on wind in no time.

Not falling. Not plummeting to your death into the depths below onto the streets and people, but floating. Gliding almost—in a dance without a floor to stay afoot on.

“This is—I’m—”

“Wizardry,” he nods with a soft giggle, steering you over the chimney of a rooftop, gently leaping over the piped ledge and onto another house. “Magic is quite helpful, don't you agree?”

You nod in awe, watching the lamps and lights below turn into specks of shiny dust, like fireflies at noon. Beyond the city, there are ridges of mountains and valleys coming into view, touching the dips of the sky. You feel closer to the clouds than to the ground.

And his hands are curled around yours now—one around your palm, the other thumbing at your other wrist, slow, steady circles that test your pulse. It spikes and your heart jumps at a particularly low rumble from his chest that you only pick up because you're so close. Is this a dream after all?

“Here,” he is saying, and you don't even realise that your feet have touched solid ground, another balcony that you slowly realise is the upper floor of your boutique, where you'd started.

How had he known where to take you?

“Who are…”

He tilts his head, lowering your arms to your side and stepping back to take his spot on the railing again, ready to leave. You think he's about to disappear without another word like this was all just imagination, but he indulges you one last time. “Taesan. You'll know me by other names, but for you, I am Taesan.”

You test the name on your tongue, tasting magic, “Taesan…”

“That's perfect,” he flashes a perfect smile. “I’m going to see to it that they don't find you again, but stay put for a while before you go back out, alright?”

Wordlessly, you agree, a small smile twitching at your own lips. Something about him does that to you.

With one final curtsey, he floats backwards in lithe grace, like one of the petals that had fallen from a window. By the time you've rushed to lean over the ledge, he's vanished from sight. Gone as quickly as he'd come.

A wizard, maybe? You've heard stories from your sisters about magic users—its not terribly new to this part of town—but in all the retellings and anecdotes, there's a particular wizard that stands out, known to eat hearts of pretty young girls and leave them weeping all alone.

But him… He'd saved you. You don't think you were pretty enough to pull a trick on, so he'd sought you out and brought you to the safety of your home. A good wizard, you think, that has to be it. Jiyu and Haeum won't believe their ears when you tell them—rather, they’ll be too taken with a new object of their affections they would have picked out to fancy, some time during the parade.

Taesan, you echo in your head, gazing at the spot he'd been standing, trying to fashion out his figure from memory alone.

But something inside you tells you this won't be the last time you meet this man.

REBLOGS + COMMENTS APPRECIATED!

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thank you for the support, ily ♡⸝⸝

div cr: @uzmacchiato

“you’re so cute.”

“i’m cute?” he raises an eyebrow.

“mhm. like my cute househusband.”

“husband, huh? is that a proposal?”

“do you want it to be?”

“i’d like a ring.”

“whatever you’d like, princess.” you wink and he snorts because you look silly.

ㆍhelping them bathe

he’s dragging the wash cloth over your arms, shoulders and back. the gentleness of it all is enough to bring you to tears. he thought to run this bath for you, light your favorite candle and help you bathe because he knew you’d had a long day. it’s when you sniffle that his hand pauses and he leans over to look at you.

“what’s wrong? i wasn’t being too rough, was i?”

“no, no, no. i’m just a little emotional right now is all.” you laugh, but it seems the tears can’t stop coming.

he sets the rag down and cups your face wiping your tears away.

“i just feel really loved right now.” you give him a wobbly smile.

“oh, you’re so precious.” he gives you a kiss on the forehead.

ㆍmaking their tea/coffee how they like it

dongmin’s pretty sure he’s perfected your daily coffee, but he still waits with bated breath as he watches you lift the mug for the first sip. when you set it down you still feel he’s looking at you.

“what’s wrong?” you ask.

“did i mess up?”

“dongmin, seriously?” you laugh. “you’ve been making my coffee for months now.”

“well, yeah, but there’s still room for mistakes.”

“it’s perfect. you could apply to be a barista now.”

“oh, good.” he sighs. “i’ve been thinking of picking up a side job.”

even though it’s dark outside, the curtains on the windows are wide open. there’s remnants of an evening snack all over the kitchen countertops, a stray plate and crumbs on the dining table. the television has been left paused on some youtube video, the bright screen casting the room in a pale glow. he glances down - your shoes are lined up neatly next to his own feet. so you must be home.

“y/n?” he calls out, blinking in confusion when he hears no reply.

well. that’s strange.

he says your name again, stepping further into your shared home with slow, careful steps. when you reply, your bright voice carrying mutely from the bedroom, something in his chest loosens.

taesan’s feet pad softly across the floor as he makes his way over to where you are - yet when he turns into the bedroom’s doorway, the sight of you makes him pause. there you are, perched precariously on the edge of your bed, pressing your fingers to the ceiling. you must hear him leaning against the doorframe, because you turn to him with a smile. “you’re finally home!”

he nods, smiling back. “hi, darling.”

“hi,” you say, but your gaze is intense as you scan his face. he looks away after a moment, eyes settling on a few sheets scattered on your bedside table underneath soft lamplight.

“what have you been up to?”

you sit down on the bed, shaking your head. “nothing much. sit down,” you say, patting the space next to you. taesan obliges, letting out a small sigh when he settles on the soft mattress. you watch him, tilting your head slightly. “how was work?”

he’s silent for a moment. “tiring,” he says. “i… i wanted to work on songs today. but i just couldn’t.”

you hum softly, and taesan feels yet another knot unravel, deep in his chest where his soul must be. he hadn’t quite realized how tired he was until you’d asked. he reaches out to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear, smiling when you look up at him with wide eyes.

“i just wanted to see you,” he says quietly, his fingers trailing down your arm before finding your hand. he intertwines his fingers with yours, and he watches as your features soften, your lips curving up and rounding your cheeks.

“i’m here,” you murmur as taesan pulls you towards him. his palm settles on your waist as both of your hands come up to cup his face. then he’s kissing you, or you’re kissing him. who knows? not him. all he knows is that you’re warm, you’re solid underneath his fingertips, you’re real and here and he gets to feel the softness of your lips against his. you pull away after a moment, your fingers sliding into his hair as you press a kiss to the corner of his mouth. but taesan chases after your lips, kissing you again, smiling against your skin when you giggle softly.

when he finally pulls away from you, it’s not to anywhere far. he lets go of your hand to place his palm on your back, pulling you down with him as he leans back. you let out a small yelp as you fall onto the mattress beside him, and taesan laughs, for the first time in what feels like a while.

that’s when he notices it.

a soft, green glow from the ceiling. glow-in-the-dark stars. he looks at you with a small smile. “when did you do that?”

you grin. “just today. i was putting up the last of them when you came in. do you like them?”

taesan looks up at the ceiling again. the stars are scattered in constellations across their new sky, and he thinks he can recognize a few. he turns back to you, to your bright eyes and wide smile. to you, who has quite literally hung the stars in the sky.

his sky.

“i love them,” he whispers, brushing your hair out of your face to see the reflection of the stars in your eyes. “thank you, darling.”

as you snuggle closer to him, taesan thinks he can barely remember why he was so tired. here, with you, under a ceiling full of stars, he’s perfectly content. he’s perfectly content to just lie here and do nothing with you.

٠ ࣪⭑ © starriniqhts 2026, all rights reserved.

⋆.˚ ☾⭒.˚ want to check out the planetarium's other exhibits?

At least, that's what you tell yourself.

The second day is quieter than usual. Not because anything is wrong—the neighbors are still noisy, the buses still rattle down the street, the world keeps moving at exactly the same pace—but because you keep noticing all the spaces Taesan usually fills. You catch yourself reaching for your phone when you see a dog stubbornly refusing to walk in the rain. You make coffee and instinctively brew enough for two. Halfway through a movie, you pause it because you know Taesan would have something to say about the main character's awful decisions.

You sit there staring at the frozen screen. Then you groan and toss the remote aside.

"This is ridiculous."

You aren't one of those people who can't function without their boyfriend. You're independent. You have hobbies. Friends. A life outside of him.

So why does everything feel so unbearably ordinary?

The days blur together after that. You try writing, but every sentence comes out awkward. You scroll aimlessly through social media until your eyes hurt. You wander around your apartment looking for something to do, only to end up staring into your fridge like it holds the secrets of the universe.

It doesn't.

It just holds a bruised peach that's somehow become the physical manifestation of your mood.

You stare at it.

The peach stares back.

"You look terrible," you tell it.

The peach, rude as ever, offers no opinion on the fact that you haven't folded your laundry in three days.

You close the fridge.

A few seconds later, you open it again.

The peach is still ugly.

Nothing changes.

You lean against the counter and sigh.

It's embarrassing, really. Not the peach. The fact that you've spent almost a week feeling like someone quietly removed all the background music from your life.

You miss Taesan.

Not in the dramatic, tragic way movies like to portray. You're not crying into his sweaters or counting the days until he comes back.

You just—

Miss telling him things.

You miss hearing him laugh when you say something ridiculous. You miss how observant he is, how he notices things about you before you do. The other day you caught yourself tapping your fingers anxiously on the table and immediately thought of how Taesan would raise an eyebrow and ask what was wrong.

He always notices.

You once changed your shampoo and he figured it out before your own friends did. Another time, you insisted you weren't upset, and he spent five minutes listing every tiny difference in your behavior until you cracked.

You're still offended by that. Mostly because he was right.

Your phone buzzes.

TAESAN🖤: Just saw a dog that looked exactly like you.

You snort.

YOU: Insulting.

TAESAN🖤: Tiny. Judgemental. Refused to move.

YOU: I don't do that.

TAESAN🖤: Last month you stood outside a restaurant for ten minutes because you didn't like the font on the menu.

You stare at the screen.

He sends another message before you can reply.

TAESAN🖤: You miss me?

You almost drop your phone.

YOU: No.

Three dots appear instantly.

TAESAN:🖤 Liar.

You roll your eyes so hard it hurts. The audacity. The accuracy.

You spend a full minute trying to think of a comeback, only to realize you're smiling. Which is annoying.

Because that's the problem, isn't it?

The apartment hasn't changed. Your routine hasn't changed. Nothing is actually different.

Taesan didn't become the center of your world while you weren't looking. He didn't sweep in and transform your life into something unrecognizable.

He just slipped into the little things.

Into the habit of sending each other pictures of weird clouds.

Into grocery trips where you automatically grab his favorite drink.

Into late-night conversations that start with something stupid and somehow end with the two of you talking about your biggest fears.

He fit himself into your life so naturally that you never noticed how often you reached for him until he wasn't there.

And now every ordinary moment arrives with a tiny hitch.

A pause.

A thought.

Taesan would've laughed at this.

Taesan would've hated this song.

I should tell Taesan about—

The realization hits you while you're standing in your kitchen, staring at the offensive peach for the third time that day.

You don't miss him because you forgot how to be alone.

You miss him because being loved by him has quietly changed the shape of your solitude.

Before Taesan, an empty apartment was just an empty apartment.

Now it's a place full of echoes. Of conversations paused instead of finished. Of jokes waiting to be told. Of affection with nowhere to go.

Your phone rings.

Taesan.

You answer immediately and hate yourself for it.

"You picked up fast," he says, amusement obvious in his voice.

"I was near my phone."

"You sound defensive."

"I'm not."

"You sighed."

You glance at the ceiling. Somehow, impossibly, he can still read you from hundreds of kilometers away.

"You know," he says, gentler now, "you're allowed to miss me."

"I don't."

"You bought my favorite snacks yesterday."

You freeze. "How do you know that?"

"You sent me a picture of your groceries."

You did.

Damn him.

"I think," Taesan says, laughter tucked into his voice, "you've spent the last week trying really hard not to admit something completely normal."

You slide down the kitchen cabinets until you're sitting on the floor.

The peach remains ugly.

Your apartment remains quiet.

Your boyfriend remains unbearably perceptive.

And maybe he's right.

Maybe the ache in your chest isn't weakness.

Maybe it's just love. Not grand enough for poetry. Not tragic enough for songs.

Just ordinary love.

The kind that sneaks into your routines, settles into your days, and leaves behind a Taesan-shaped space whenever he's away.

You still think that's a little horrifying.

But when he says, softly, "I'll be home soon," you realize it's also the most wonderful thing that's ever happened to you.

© All rights reserved @gigisnextdoor 2026.

“ hey buttercup , “ dongmin greeted me with a side hug while his arm rested on my shoulders . it was the first day of school in a new semester and the first few classes we had ? absolutely horrid — but hey , at least minju’s in most of my classes now !

“ donghyun’s not in school today ? “ minju asked as dongmin shook his head . we all took our seats somewhere near the food stalls and one by one , we all queued up to get our food .

we were all having a good time gossiping and eating when i suddenly felt water being poured onto my head . a loud gasp escaped from my lips as dohoon quickly passed me wipes while minju and danielle glared at the person behind me .

“ oh ! oops ! didn’t see you there ~ “ i couldn’t quite tell who it was — but it was definitely a girl because her pitch was on the higher side .

i stood up and turned around , making eye level contact with the most recognisable female i know — from the web of course . “ mimi ? “ my voice trembled as a gust of wind blew in my direction .

“ aw , so you do know me . thanks for keeping my seat warm , doll . “ mimi said with full sarcasm before pushing me out of the way and taking my seat next to dongmin . her minions surrounded me , as if i was some prisoner …

“ i missed you so much my dear min … how could you leave me after the kiss we had at won’s party …? “ mimi leaned against dongmin , her tone multiple octaves higher — like some pick me girl . dongmin obviously changed seats and sat next to dohoon instead , the four of them cramping on one bench .

that’s when it clicked . they kissed ? at won’s party ? the party that was a week ago ? was i too drunk to realise it ? did he not send me home personally ? i mean from what i remember — he was beside me all along . we even took multiple pictures together and he tucked me in bed … she’s lying … right ?

“ i did not fucking kiss you . “ dongmin spat , a pure disgusted look on his face . “ you really think i’d want to kiss something that looks like this …? in your dreams — actually no , i wouldn’t even want to appear in your dreams . now apologise to yn . “

when mimi showed no response , dongmin stood up abruptly . slamming his hand on the table which gathered all the attention on us , making mimi and the others startled . he grabbed his jacket and walked towards me , mimi’s minions running away the moment he was a few steps away from them .

my heart started beating faster , and faster . more violently with each step he took towards me . despite his sudden outburst , he had a soft smile on his face as he wrapped his jacket around my shoulders .

“ still not gonna apologise ? you ruined my lunch , her clothes , and you’re wasting my time . “ dongmin said through gritted teeth , wrapping his arm around my shoulder . after a minute passed , dongmin snickered and grabbed our bags , “ c’mon guys , i’ll buy us lunch after school . “

dohoon , dani and minju grabbed their bags , following behind dongmin and i as we walked to the school’s rooftop . danielle gave me her spare clothes she kept in her bag and soon after , we all relaxed at the school’s rooftop — not caring if we skipped a class or two , or maybe the whole day .

the three sat away from dongmin and i . dongmin and i laid on our bags , watching the clouds move as we stayed in comfortable silence . “ i didn’t kiss her by the way . i didn’t even know she went to the party . “ dongmin started as he turned his head to face me .

i decided to tease him and kept quiet , a small pout forming on my face as i sighed . “ i really didn’t !! i swear if donghyun was here — he would back me up . the rest can too ! i was with you and our friends the whole time . i only had two drinks ! “ he continued as i felt the ends of my lips being tugged on .

“ please trust me . i said i wouldn’t hurt you this time and i really won’t … “ just as he was about to turn to the clouds again , i cupped his cheeks . a laughter breaking through me as i saw how much he was pouting .

“ why are you laughing … i really mean it , buttercup . i’m a man of my words . “ he asked as he frowned slightly . “ i know … i know . it’s just really … the way you’re defending yourself and letting me know over and over again that you’re not hurting me this time … and the way you defended me just now ? i appreciate it dongmin . “

“ and i know that you were with us all along at won’s party . i was blacked out but ! i remember you being beside me all the time and you even tucked me in bed . “ a small smile played on his lips as he sighed in relief .

“ phew … thank god . i can’t handle another silent treatment from you . “ he teased as i slapped his arm playfully before moving myself and repositioning myself so i could lay my head on his shoulder .

“ i don’t ever want to lose you again , buttercup . “ dongmin mumbled as he played with my hair before landing a soft peck on my forehead . my cheeks lit up as bright as a christmas ornament — hiding my face in between my hands as he giggled .

“ oh cut it off lovebirds … are we having lunch or not ? “ dohoon nagged as we giggled softly to ourselves . we regained composure and strapped our bags on , walking behind the three .

i felt dongmin’s hands reaching for mine , interlocking it as he rubbed his thumb against mine . sure we’re skipping classes for the whole day but this ? made it so worth it .

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