#triples fluff

——

A minute later and you’re at the water cooler. You lean down, grab a plastic cup and pour yourself some water. You drink another. And another. You feel hot and dizzy, Sohyun’s teasing still on your mind.

How did she know about your crush? There’s no way she did all that and not know about it. You grip the edge of the cooler. She always knows.

You stand straight, loosening your tie before gulping down another cup. You stay at the cooler for a few more minutes, hoping by the time you’re back at your desk, Xinyu’s gone. Hope that Sohyun shuts up and does some work for once.

Your prayers weren’t answered.

You hear her before she comes into view—laughing, voice pitched low. An intern stammers something. Files hit the floor. You turn and look. She’s crouched beside the intern, handing them the files one by one. Then she ruffles their hair.

She stands back up and approaches the water cooler.

“Enjoying the show?”

You don’t answer, choosing to read the endless number of flyers on the board instead.

She stands in front of you, grabs her own cup before drinking.

You shouldn’t look. You do anyway. How she tilts her head further back than normal, the way her throat bobs after every swallow. You look lower, the top buttons of her shirt undone, her loosened tie hangs crooked.

You hear a little laugh—low, barely audible. She’s watching you stare out the corner of her eye, a smirk plastered on her face.

You walk off before she can say anything.

——

You look down at the clock on your computer screen.

7pm.

Most of the workers have left for the day. Just you and Park Sohyun.

You stretch your arms above your head, a small sound escaping your mouth. You remove the headphones before rubbing your eyes. With deadlines approaching, you’ve been spending more late nights at the office, crunching numbers, creating diagrams.

You stand, wobbling a bit. Your legs must’ve fallen asleep from the hours in front of your screen. You grab your coat and your bag, ready to leave.

“Hey, can you help me with this?”

You close your eyes. The elevators were right there.

But something pulls you back. Obligation. Stupidity.

You sigh loudly. Let your head drop and trudge over.

“Something doesn’t look right on the spreadsheet.”

You lean, hovering over her shoulders, checking her work. You scroll up and down. Looking for the mistakes she made. Ignoring the scent of her perfume surrounding you.

“There,” you say, circling the problem with the mouse, “the equation is wrong. It’s supposed to be this.” You lean down fixing the equation and watch how the spreadsheet corrects itself.

“My saviour,” she props her chin on her hand, watching you like you’re a puzzle to solve.

You keep your eyes on the screen.

“Is that it?”

She nods her head slightly.

You’re halfway to the elevators when she calls for you.

“Wait for me.”

You ignore her. Press the button to call the elevator. When it arrives, you enter quickly, press for the ground floor and push the close button. Again and again.

Her hand catches the door.

“Wow. You’re fucking rude.”

You ignore her comment and step to the side.

The journey to the ground floor feels like hours.

From the corner of your eye, you see her reach up. The clip comes out. She shakes her hair loose, then turns toward you.

You don’t make eye contact. But the doors are polished steel. You see her anyway—tucking her hair behind her ear, leaning back against the railing.

“You like Xinyu? She’s too good for you,” she says, tilting her head to get a better look at your face, at your reaction. “She’s got a nice body, I’ll give her that. Long legs. Pretty smile.” She pauses, eyes flicking to yours in the reflection. “That round—“

You turn, facing her. “What are you doing?”

She bites her bottom lip. Pushes off the railing and steps closer. Too close.

“It’s fun teasing you.”

You stare at her. What the hell is she talking about?

“You act all high and mighty. Act like whatever I do is beneath you, that it doesn’t affect you,” she plays with your tie, twirling it around her finger. “But I think there’s more. I think you enjoy it and I’m starting to wonder how long before you break.”

The door opens suddenly. She walks out without another word. Heels tapping against the tile—sharp and even. You’re still standing there, breathing too hard.

——

You walk along the streets of Seoul in the early morning, weaving through people as you get to work. It’s cold. Your coat doing little against the winter wind, hands trembling.

You enter the building, pausing to warm your hands. You wait for the elevator. Bow to a coworker. And another. You’re not really seeing them.

You smell her before you see her. She’s beside you. Of course she is.

The elevator door opens. You get in quickly, aiming for the back before she follows. More people start filing in, pushing you into a corner.

She’s in front of you. Facing you.

The elevator begins its ascent. She shifts, pressing against you—just slightly. She’s watching your face. You breathe in. Stare at the ceiling panel, the lights, anything.

Her hand finds your forearm. Squeezes. Firmly. You look down. You don’t want to. But you do anyway.

Your vision blurs at the edges. It’s her face—sharp and clear.

Hair pulled up in a high ponytail, exposing her face, making it harder to look away from. Glasses sliding down her nose. She’s looking at you over her frames.

Your breath catches. She licks her lips—slow, deliberate.

This isn’t teasing anymore.

Maybe you shouldn’t have taken her threat so lightly.

People leave. There’s more room now but she doesn’t move but presses closer.

The door opens on your floor. You exhale loudly. She steps back slowly. Her fingers trail down your forearm—light and deliberate. Then she turns. Walks to her desk like nothing happened.

——

You feel your eyes slowly close.

You’ve been sat in this meeting room for two hours, manager droning on about numbers, projections, expectations. You don’t retain much. Just twirling your pen between your fingers.

You scan the room. Everyone’s half asleep—stifling yawns, glazed eyes. Until you reach her.

She’s not looking at the presentation. But at you. Chin propped up on her hand. Fingers lightly tapping against her cheek—slow, rhythmic. Like she’s waiting for something.

Your eyes drift lower. Lips parted. Glossed. Catching the light. Top buttons undone, a small necklace rests on her collarbone.

You turn back towards the presentation.

A gentle thud echoes in the room. You ignore it. Until you can’t.

Your head snaps toward her.

Her heel. On the floor. And she’s not picking it up. Then you feel it. Her foot. Sliding up your calf. Slowly. Higher and higher.

She gives you a wink.

Your breath catches. Your heart—

“Are you paying attention?”

You turn your head back to your manager, face burning.

You swallow. “Y—yeah.”

He narrows his eyes. Holds your gaze for a beat before continuing.

You hear it. Quiet but there.

She’s laughing.

Her foot slides down. Slowly. She slips her heel back on.

You don’t move. Don’t breathe. Just staring at the presentation like your life depends on it.

——

The meeting ends. You stand and make your way to her quick. You grab her wrist—tight—and pull. She stumbles after you. People are staring. You don’t care. The emergency stairwell. You don’t slow down.

You slam the door open, shoving her inside. Her back hits the wall. You take three steps back and begin pacing, breathing heavily.

“What the hell is your problem?” Your voice echoes in the stairwell.

She doesn’t say anything. Just watches you, a small smile tugging at her mouth.

You stop pacing. Moved closer until you tower over her. “We’re at work and you’re doing this shit!” You say, voice low and harsh.

She tilts her head. Looks up at you through her lashes. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

She’s breathing heavily. You’re just too angry to notice.

You press in closer. Your leg between hers. Your hand finds her wrist and pins it to the wall beside her head. You’re close enough to feel her breath. To see her pupils dilate.

“Is this what you want?”

She doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t look away.

You lower your head. Until your lips are a breath from hers. This would shut her up.

You close your eyes as you inch closer. Hers stay open.

Your lips graze hers. You pull back. Fast. You stumble slightly.

She pushes off the wall, smooths down her shirt, readjusts her glasses. “Nice try. You’ve made a scene now. Good luck talking yourself out of this.”

She opens the door. Walks out. You see your coworkers. Staring.

Everyone saw.

——

You didn’t think life here could get worse.

Everyone around you whispers. About you. About the stairwell. You’re painted as the villain. Jealous. Unstable.

If only they knew what she was doing to you.

You turn up the volume in your headphones. Try to drown them out. It doesn’t stop the stares. Or that condescending smile of hers.

You feel a firm grip on your shoulder. You look up. Your manager. Your hand slides an ear cup off.

“Follow me.”

Fuck.

You’re going to get fired aren’t you?

——

No. You’re not getting fired.

Actually it’s worse.

Your manager has assigned you to a project. Something about logistics, delivery, supply chains. You’re not really listening.

That’s not the problem. The problem is who’s leading it.

Park Sohyun.

And you’re her second in command.

——

“Alright, you all know your assignments. Fighting!”

People begin filing out, the first meeting for the new project successful. You slowly pack your things. Stand. You take a step out the door—

“Not you. I need to speak to you.”

You freeze mid-step. You turn to face her, still by the podium. She points to a chair. You sit. She moves closer, settles on the edge of the conference table, looking down at you.

You swallow visibly.

She studies you. “I hope you can stay professional. We don’t want another stairwell incident, now do we?”

You see the smirk on her face, eyes gleaming in amusement. She’s loving this.

“N—no.”

“Good. You can go.” She waves you away. You bang your knees on the table. You ignore the pain, moving towards the exit.

You’re halfway out when she speaks again.

“I told you I’d break you.”

——

The numbers, the pie charts. They all begin merging into a blur.

The past few days have been hectic. Always is when a new project gets underway. The need to have something tangible to impress the higher ups.

You’ve barely had time to sleep, staying late in the office every day. Your eyes strained from staring at the monitor for so long.

“Here.”

You look up. It’s Sohyun, offering you a cup of coffee. You take it, looking down at it sceptically.

“Did you spit in this or something?”

She slaps the back of your head.

Sohyun hasn’t tormented you in the last few days. Too busy with the project but you’re still hyper-aware. Every time she’s close or talking, you half expect her touch or a jibe.

This is the first time she’s approached you in days. And strangely enough, you miss it.

Not because you miss her. Just… the distraction. The days are boring without it.

“You look tired. Thought you could use some coffee.”

“Thanks.” You stare at the cup before taking a small sip, wincing as you burn your tongue.

“How’s the data analysis going?”

You shrug. “Should be ready by tomorrow.”

“Hmm. Good work.”

Your heart jumps a little at the praise.

She doesn’t move. Just stands there, watching you work, sipping her coffee every now and then.

Your heart beats rapidly. Waiting for her to touch you or make an inappropriate comment. You feel her hand on the back of your chair.

“You made a mistake here. And there.”

You glance up at her in surprise before following where she pointing. She’s right. You quickly make the changes.

She hums in approval before walking back to her desk. You finally exhale, shoulders dropping.

“What? Disappointed I didn’t try something?” She says as she sits back down, smirking.

You shouldn’t ask. You do anyway.

“Why aren’t you?” You add quickly, “Not because I miss it.”

Her mouth opens. Then closes. She rests her chin on her fingers. “You’re boring now.”

“What? And I wasn’t before?”

“That reaction at the stairwell? I don’t think you could top that.”

Your face heats.

She’s challenging you. Baiting you.

You take it anyway.

“How do I not be boring?” Your voice comes out quieter than you meant.

She smiles wide. Stands and leans over your desk. You see a hint of her bra underneath her shirt. Your throat suddenly goes dry. You try to look away. Too late.

“Be more assertive. More reckless. That’s when people are fun,” she says like it’s obvious. She moves suddenly, towards your manager’s desk. Grabs a key and opens the bottom drawer. Pulls out a bottle of expensive whiskey before placing it on the table with a heavy thunk.

“You want some?”

You stand abruptly, your chair rolls back, hits the desk behind. You cross to her. Grab the bottle from her hands, open it and take a swig.

You hold it in your mouth—to look like you’ve done this before. You swallow. Your throat burns. You start spluttering.

She laughs. Her hand finds your back—rubbing, soothing. “Easy there,” she murmurs.

Once your coughing dies down, you look at her. Her expression shifts. Surprised. Impressed. You shove the bottle into her hands. Nod at it.

She holds your gaze. Brings the bottle to her lips.

Your eyes go lower. Her throat bobs after every swallow. You swallow along with her.

She places the bottle back on the desk when she finishes. There’s a drop of whiskey on her lips. You track it as it glides down her chin. Falls onto her shirt, staining the fabric.

Her shirt—when did she undo more buttons?

You look back up. Her gaze still on you, pupils dilated. Lips parted. Your breaths mingle. Everywhere smells like whiskey.

You push forward. Grab her waist. Crush your mouth against hers. It’s messy and loud. She moans. Opens her mouth. You don’t hesitate, forcing your tongue in.

She steps back until she’s pressed against your manager’s desk. She reaches back, sweeps the paper and pens onto the floor. The whiskey also falls. Shatters. You don’t care.

You lift her onto the desk, kiss her neck. She moans—right into your ear. Her legs lock around you, hands going to your belt—

The sound of the vacuum breaks both of you out of the spell.

You separate, breathing heavily. You crane your neck towards the sound. They don’t know you’re here yet. You look back at her, already buttoning her shirt.

“Want to get out of here?” She asks.

You can only nod.

——

Your manager frantically searches his drawers, muttering. “What? Where’s my bottle?”

You ignore him, focused on getting your tasks done.

Out of the corner of your eye, you watch him move closer to Sohyun. Your fingers hit the keyboard harder than normal.

He leans on her desk. Lowers his voice. “Have you seen my… special drink?”

“You mean the one in the locked drawer?”

“That’s the one!”

“Nope. I’ve been too busy.” She doesn’t give him her full attention, eyes glued to the computer screen.

He stares at her, waiting for more. When nothing comes, he frowns, walking back to his desk.

Sohyun stares at you over her computer screen, smirking. You try to fight the smile coming. You fail.

She slams her laptop shut. Grabs it and stands. “Come on. Let’s head to the meeting room.”

——

Sohyun stands at the front of the room. Clicking through slides. Assigning tasks. Fielding questions.

You’re not listening.

Last night keeps playing in your mind. The hickey left on her collarbone. How her thighs locked around your waist in the backseat of her car. How her nails raked down your back. The pain is still there. But it was worth it.

You can’t stop staring. Her lips are still swollen. You notice a slight limp when she walks. Favouring her left leg as she paces. You can see the hickey, barely peeking out of her shirt.

You smile at the memory.

“Anything to add?”

You shake your head, still smiling. Then you notice: everyone’s staring at you. Confused.

She glances at you, amusement on her features. “Alright then. This is the final push. Don’t let the team down.”

Nods all round the table. Chairs scraping. One by one they file out. Until it’s just you two.

She doesn’t move. Stares at the door until it clicks shut. “You were undressing me, weren’t you?”

You look down at your laptop, pretending to make notes. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

She walks toward you. Slowly. The limp still there. She grabs the armrests, spins your chair to face her. She grips your chin, forces you to look up.

“Tonight—shall we finish what we started?”

“Didn’t we?” You don’t break eye contact. “In your car?”

She leans down, her mouth next to your ear. “I’m talking about the manager’s desk.” your eyes widen. “How hot would that be?”

No. It would be stupid. Crazy.

But you’ve had a taste of doing reckless shit. A taste of her.

And it’s addictive.

You pull her onto your lap, kissing her roughly. She laughs into it.

That answers her question.

——

“F—fuck…”

You grab her tie from round her neck, stuff it into her mouth as you continue to pound into her.

She’s under you. Eyes rolled back. Pants gone, panties around one ankle by your head. Her shirt, ripped open. You’re pretty sure you tore a few buttons. You need to reimburse her for that. Her glasses are still on, now askew.

God, she’s the most beautiful thing here—one hand fondling her breast. The other gripping your hand by her waist tightly.

You’re not gentle. She doesn’t want you to be. You can still hear her moans through her tie. You’re close. Too close.

She lets go of her breast, reaches for something by her head. Her phone. You don’t question it. Open the camera. Frame her: Shirt torn open. Tie between her teeth. Sweat on her collarbone. One leg hooked over your shoulder. You take the photo. Show her. She looks at herself. At what you’ve done to her. Her eyes grow dark. She nods.

More.

She cums. Hard. Her walls tightening around you. You finish inside her. No hesitation.

You lean over. Kiss her hard, desperate.

You take a few steps back, collapse onto the manager’s chair and watch as your joined fluids spill onto the desk.

You laugh. So does she.

You’re both still breathing hard. She sits up, places her feet on the armrest. Drags you closer. You look into her eyes as you start buttoning up your shirt. Disheveled. Smiling. “What, no round 2?”

You caress her leg, placing soft kisses on her calf. Up to her knee. She shivers. “My place?”

She considers. Then nods.

——

“W—why is my desk sticky?”

He’s looking around for someone to blame. Everyone’s staring at their screen, ignoring him.

You hear your phone buzz. Look down. Message from Sohyun.

It’s one of the photos from last night. Her. On the desk. Tie in her mouth. Below it: Shall we tell him?

You look up, eyes wide. She’s already looking at you. You watch as she bites her lip. Laughs into her fist. She’s already lifting her phone. Aims it at you. Your phone buzzes a second later.

Your face? Priceless

——

You open your laptop. Spreadsheet already displayed. You crack your knuckles, stretch your neck, and begin to work.

The project’s deadline is tomorrow. It’s almost done—just a few changes left to be made. The slack channel constantly pings with new messages from other team members. Updates on their tasks, offering assistance.

The shower head suddenly turns off. Five minutes later, Sohyun comes out: hair damp, wearing your t-shirt. It’s big on her—neck line too big, exposing one shoulder, hem falling to mid-thigh. If the deadline wasn’t tomorrow, you’d have thrown her on the bed for round 2.

She pads to your bed, wet footprints marking your carpet. She climbs under the sheets. Grabs her phone from the nightstand. You look over. She’s scrolling through the slack channel before tossing her phone away. She stretches. T-shirt riding up her thighs. You feel your heart rate pick up. You turn back to your screen. Try to focus.

She turns to you. Scoots until she’s pressing against you. Grabs your chin and begins kissing you messily. She tries to close your laptop. You stop her.

You pull away. “I still have work to do.”

“Do it after.”

“You just took a shower.”

“I can take another.”

You chuckle. Turn back toward the screen.

She watches you, annoyance marring her features. “Fine.”

You last only five minutes when you hear moans beside you. She’s touching herself. You try to ignore it. Her breath quickening. Your name spilling out of her mouth—needy. The way her legs spread wider. Your throat goes dry.

You look over. She’s watching you, a teasing smile on her face. She brings a finger to her mouth. Bites it. That look—you can’t get used to it.

You’re hard. Aching.

You shut the computer, toss it onto the floor, and pounce on top of her. She’s giggling like she’s won.

You crash your lips on hers, pushing your tongue in. Replace her hand with yours. Swallow her moans.

You don’t know when she became more important than work.

——

After the deadline, she decided to stay for the weekend.

You don’t argue.

You feel her eyes on your back. “What?” You ask, still facing the cooker as you make breakfast.

She’s sat at the table, chin resting on one hand, the other drawing patterns on the tabletop. She’s only got a bra and your boxers on. You love the sight.

“You’re weirdly hot you know?”

“Thank you?”

“I mean it,” you turn around, place a plate in front of her before sitting across from her. “If you keep your hair messy like that and wear those glasses…”

You stare at her as she bites her lip. Rubs her thighs together. You’re surprised she’s acting like this—at just a thought. “Maybe I will.”

——

Monday comes round. You’re looking at your reflection in the window of her car.

You followed her advice: messy hair, glasses instead of contacts. You adjust your glasses, touch your hair. It feels weird. You feel her hand on your thigh.

“You look fine. If I wasn’t driving, I’d be on you right now.” Her hand climbs higher, nails slightly brushing your groin.

A small groan escapes. You grab her hand. “I’m not going into the office hard.”

“Why not?”

You don’t give her an answer. Instead, you watch outside. People waiting for buses. Cleaners on the street, removing evidence of whatever happened last night.

“Let’s play a game.”

You hum in response. Curious now.

“First person to get dragged into the supply closet wins.”

“Sohyun… no.”

“Why? We already fucked on the manager’s desk.”

“You’re talking about doing it during work hours.”

“Exciting right?”

Crazy. She’s crazy.

But you’re already imagining it. Her pressed against the shelves—

What has she done to you?

——

You get off a block away from the entrance. Whatever this is between you two, you both keep it secret. No rumours. No questions.

You enter the building, scan your ID and wait for the elevator. People are staring. Your hair. Glasses. Gossiping. You look towards them. They look away, giggling.

Sohyun arrives a minute later, stands beside you. Smirking. “Told you it looked good.”

The elevator arrives. You move to the back. Sohyun stands in front of you, back to you. As the elevator ascends, she moves back. Her ass pressing against you.

You try not to look down at her. You fail. She’s typing something on her phone. Holds her phone over her shoulder.

Game starts now

She presses harder. You bite the inside of your cheek, face burning. You look around. No one’s paying attention. Don’t react. Not here. Not yet.

When the elevator reaches your floor, it empties. Just the two of you left. You lean in, groan softly into her ear. Watch the goosebumps rise on her skin. You sidestep around her before heading to your desk. You don’t look back.

Two can play this game.

——

It’s barely lunch and you’re already losing your composure.

She’s good. Really good.

A glimpse of her bra when she leans over to hand you something. She drops her pen deliberately. Lets it roll under your desk. She ducks under the desk. Her hand finds your thigh—not the pen. Every time she leaves for the bathroom, your phone buzzes. Photos of her. Hair tussled. Shirt open, exposing the smooth plane of her stomach. You do your best to hide them from your colleagues. Angle your phone away from your desk neighbour. But they just keep coming.

“Are you okay?”

You lock your phone immediately. Look up. Zhou Xinyu. She’s frowning. Concerned look on her face. “I—I’m fine.”

“Are you sure? You’re looking really red.”

You nod, not trusting your voice.

She walks off. Then stops. Turns to you. “By the way…” You look over your shoulder at her. “Like the new look.” She winks at you.

You swallow visibly. Your phone buzzes again.

What the fuck is happening?

——

You look over at Sohyun, eyes pleading. Her foot’s on your groin again, pressing firmly. You bite your knuckles, trying not to moan. She’s smiling innocently.

She doesn’t stop, not even when some intern comes to flirt with her. She’s in her element. Laughing. Flirting.

You hate it.

You know she’s watching you, even when she’s not paying attention. How your jaw tightens when she laughs at a terrible joke, her hand playfully slapping his arm. She presses harder with your every reaction.

“What is with the tired looks, everybody? It’s Monday! A brand new week!”

A momentary respite when your eyes turn to your manager. You look around. Everyone’s eyes look heavy, their movements sluggish.

“This won’t do. You!” He points at you, beckons you closer with his finger. You slap her foot away before standing carefully. You walk slowly to him. “Go down to the cafe. Coffee is on me!”

Cheers of delight come from the team. Internally, you’re celebrating the reprieve.

You quickly make your way to the elevator, ignoring Sohyun.

“Can I join you?”

You turn. Xinyu stands beside you. “Sure. Going on your lunch break?”

She stares at you for a moment before turning to the elevator doors. “Something like that.”

Behind you, Sohyun watches the elevator doors close. Her eyes narrow.

——

“Let me pay.”

“I can’t let you do that.”

“It’s the manager’s card.” You flash the card as if it was treasure.

She laughs. Covering her mouth with her hand. “If you insist.” She gestures you forward.

You move to pay then proceed to order for the rest of your team. 5 iced americanos. 1 caramel frappe with extra whipped cream and chocolate syrup on top.

You don’t know why you remember that.

You walk over to where Xinyu’s waiting, busy on her phone. She sets it down as soon as you’re beside her.

“What’s with the new look?” She asks.

“This? Sohyun suggested it. Said it looked good on me.” You don’t look her in the eyes when you answer, remembering what happened after she said that.

The eggs were cold.

“You’ve been hanging around her a lot lately.” You look up, wait for her to continue. “You’re a lot different from before you worked that project together.”

You narrow your eyes. “Good different? Bad?”

You’re interrupted when her order comes out first—placed in front of her. She bends over her drink, holds the straw close to her mouth.

“Not sure yet. Just different.”

You watch as she drinks. You shouldn’t be. The way her cheeks hollow. Her eyes trained on you.

You shift uncomfortably.

When did everything become so sexual?

Your phone buzzes in your pocket. “Excuse me.”

You move away towards the window. Stare down at your phone. Another message from Sohyun. This time a voice note. You press play. Press it against your ear.

You almost drop your phone.

She’s moaning your name. From the echo, she’s in the bathroom again. You hear her breathing heavily, voice raspy.

You can imagine it: her on the toilet seat, fingers between her legs, coated in her wetness. Her eyes fluttering close, biting her lip hard enough to draw blood.

You press your head against the window, a thud echoing in the cafe. Xinyu’s looking over at you in concern. You ignore her, focus on getting your breathing in check. Focus on not losing this game.

Then you hear it: a sucking sound through the speakers.

It ends there. Like a teaser for what’s to come. You check the time on your phone. 5 more hours until the day’s over.

“What happened? Is everything okay?”

You quickly turn. Xinyu’s close. Her face centimetres from yours. You don’t know how long she’s been standing there. Don’t know if she heard any of it. You hope she didn’t.

“Y—yeah. Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you.”

She shakes her head. You feel your cheeks burn under her gaze. Did she hear it? What would she think? You see her raise her hand, point to your forehead.

“Your forehead. You hit it pretty hard on the window. It’s going red.”

You bring your hand to your forehead, feel a slight swell.

Fuck.

“It’s fine. I—“ you look over her shoulder and see the barista placing your order onto the counter. “The order’s ready.” You quickly move, thankful for the interruption.

You grab the coffees. Thank the barista. You turn to Xinyu. “Shall we head back?” You don’t give her time to answer, already walking to the exit.

——

“I told you. It’s fine.”

“If you don’t do something about it, it’s going to get worse. The swelling will get bigger. Redder. You could end up with a headache. Or have to go to the hospital.”

“Okay. You’re exaggerating now. I don’t actually—“

The elevator doors open. You see Sohyun stopping at the sight of you and Xinyu. Close. Her hand brushing the swell on your forehead. Gently blowing on it as if that would fix it.

You don’t think you’ve ever seen her angry.

“Is that the coffee order?” Her tone is cold. Emotionless.

“Y—yeah.”

“Great. Xinyu, could you—“ she takes the coffee from your hands, shoves it into hers. She grips your wrist. Tight. “—hand them to the team. Thanks.”

She’s dragging you out of the elevator before you can make a sound.

——

This feels familiar. Her dragging you. Of the time you dragged her out that meeting. Karma has a weird way of getting back at you.

She drags you up the next floor. Accounting. It’s a quiet floor. People here tend to mind their own business. They won’t notice how she opens the supply closet, shoves you inside, and locks it behind her.

You don’t know if you should be aroused or terrified.

She pushes you into a worn office chair. Grabs your tie. Forces you to look up before crashing her lips against yours.

You don’t respond. Can’t. Already feel her tongue invading your mouth.

She straddles you. Unbuttons your shirt one by one. You move your hand to do the same to hers. Only for her to slap them away.

Her lips leave yours, inches away. “You don’t get to touch me.”

You swallow hard. Try to chase her lips only for her to lean further back. She grinds against you. A moan escapes you. You don’t care anymore. Don’t care that someone might find you. Might hear you. Don’t care if your manager wonders where the fuck you both are.

You just want her.

You hear her heels fall to the floor as she undoes the last button. Feel her nails scratch you from your collarbone to your hips. Her eyes darken as she looks over you.

She presses her lips on you—your collarbone, your chest. She trails down until she can’t bend anymore.

She sits back up. Straight. Removes her own shirt before tossing it behind her. Forgotten. Grabs your chin roughly before kissing you. Desperate. Messy. Like staking a claim. Her other hand trails down, undoes your belt, the button before fishing you out, stroking you slow.

“Fuck…”

She smiles into the kiss, loving the way you easily fold.

She’s off your lap now, shimmies out of her own trousers. Smirks when your pupils dilate at the sight. No panties.

You try to reach her. You’re only met with her hand holding both your wrists, pinning them to the shelves behind you.

She straddles you again, grabs you and aims you into her. She lowers herself onto you until you’re fully inside.

You groan at the warmth. She groans at the fullness.

She rides you. Hard. Panting into your ear. Biting your ear. You’re too far gone to think clearly.

The shelves behind you start rattling, random items falling around you.

For a brief moment, you remember where you are. That someone walking by could see what’s happening.

You let out a loud moan at that thought.

She clasps her hand over your mouth. To make you quiet. But no one’s making her quiet. She grows louder. And louder. Until she has no choice but to stuff her own tie into her mouth.

You feel yourself getting harder at the sight.

She’s close. You can feel it. The lack of rhythm in her bouncing. The stutter in her breathing. The way she shuts her eyes tight, trying to hold herself together.

You finish first. Inside her. She follows soon after. Head collapsing on your shoulder, hand letting go of your wrists. They fall around her waist. You hold her tight. Wait until your breathing is under control. She places her hand over your chest, over your heart. Smiles at its rapid beating.

When you both calm, she lifts her head before lowering her lips onto yours. Softer. Gentler.

You part, eyes locked. “I win.”

She tilts her head in confusion. “What?”

“You said whoever gets dragged into the supply closet wins right? I won.”

You watch the realisation dawn on her face.

“Fuck you.”

——

“Damn it. The door’s jammed again. Is maintenance gone already… fuck.”

The supply closet door continues to rattle as one, two people try to get it open.

“Fuck it. I’ll get it tomorrow.”

You grab your phone. Read the time: 5:50pm. You’ve been here the entire afternoon, half expecting messages from your boss: where the fuck are you, where’s my fucking credit card. You didn’t get any of that, just a single text from Xinyu.

Told them you got hurt pretty bad on the way back from the cafe. Told them Sohyun went with you because she’s got a car.

You need to thank her for that. And explain all this too. Or come up with a convincing lie.

“How long left?”

“10 minutes. How do you know Accounting will be gone by then?”

“They don’t do overtime. Or refuse to. Just how they are.” She gives a noncommittal shrug. Browses the items on the shelves. She’s walking around the supply closet. Naked.

“I should’ve used this on you.” She turns to you, shows you some tape before continuing her browsing.

You can’t take your eyes off her. Hair a mess. From the makeshift ponytail in round 3. The bruises on her hips. From when you gripped her a bit too tightly in round 5. The glistening on her inner thighs.

You’re aching at the memory.

She looks down. Smirks. You’re hard again. “Ready for round 8?” She saunters to you, hips swaying more than normal before sitting down next to you.

She grips you, stroking slowly, twisting at the tip. You move your hand to her mouth, watch as she sucks on your fingers before letting them go. You trail them down to where she’s already wet, rubbing in circles.

You rest your head on the wall behind, eyes closed, enjoying her hand and her soft moans. She’s on her phone, tapping away.

“Look at this.”

You slowly open your eyes. Look at her screen. Xinyu’s latest photo on Instagram. A mirror selfie. The mirror’s steamed, she’s wearing a bathrobe, shoulder exposed.

“Sohyun… what the fuck…”

“Imagine it’s her hand.” She whispers into your ear.

She’s stroking faster. Your hand lying motionless on her. You shut your eyes. Can’t help the image of Xinyu on you instead.

You exhale loudly.

“Jealous of her?”

“I am.” She blows into your ear. You let out a moan. “But I understand. She’s hot.” She stops. Hand moving down, grabs your balls. Tight. “Just remember that I’m the one making you feel this way.”

You kiss her. Hard. Moaning into her mouth as she strokes again. Faster. Relentless. You come. All over her hand.

You can’t do anything but watch as she brings her hand to her mouth, licks her hand clean, smiles at the taste.

After that display, she stands, finds her shirt, dresses.

“What about you?” You say weakly, unable to move.

“You can make it up to me,” she’s putting her hair up in a ponytail. “After dinner.”

She tosses you your clothes. Leans on the door, waiting for you.

——

You both make it to your floor. Quietly. In case anyone is still lingering.

When the coast is clear, you move to grab your stuff: jacket, bag, ID. Both of you run to the elevators, giggling like children.

You put your hand in your jacket pocket. Something’s in there. Soft. Unfamiliar. You pull it out.

Her panties.

“Thought you’d like a souvenir.” She’s smiling.

You walk in as soon as the elevator arrives and the doors open.

“Was this supposed to help with the game?”

“Yeah. Didn’t think it would end up being useless.”

You laugh boisterously.

As the door closes, you pin her to the wall, kissing her.

——

Dinner’s at your place. An order of fried chicken.

She’s cleaned up, now sporting only your hoodie. You’re in jogging pants, no shirt.

Some variety show plays on the TV. You’re not paying attention, content to watch her. How she holds the chicken delicately with just her fingertips. Her legs tucked underneath her. She laughs at something on the TV. It’s loud. Addicting. You can’t help but laugh along with her.

She reaches for another piece. Arches her back as she takes one from the plate. You see a hint of a smile. You huff. You’ve been caught. You lean back on the couch, focusing on the show. She moves beside you, resting her head on your shoulder. Offers the chicken. You take a bite. She laughs again before settling against you.

You throw your arm over her, thumb softly grazing her hipbone. You lean down, a gentle kiss on the top of her head.

She looks up at you, eyes curving into crescents as she smiles wide.

Your heart skips a beat.

She leans up, pecks you on the lips before you can react and turns back to the TV.

——

At this point, she’s practically moved in. Which, by the way, is crazy. You’re pretty sure her place is bigger than yours.

You walk into the bathroom, see her toothbrush sitting next to yours. Counter space is nonexistent. Her essentials have taken over—lotion, cleanser, hair products.

You sigh. Grab your toothbrush. Start brushing your teeth as you walk around the bedroom.

Your desk is now her makeup station. Your wardrobe has her work attire.

(Only her work attire. She’s either naked or stealing your clothes whenever she comes by.)

You walk back into the bathroom, watching yourself in the mirror.

She comes in, wraps her arms round your waist. You stare at her through the reflection. At the way her hands start drifting lower, into your jogging pants.

You stop that immediately, turning, grabbing her and lifting her on the small space left on the counter.

You accidentally poke her eye with your toothbrush.

“Ow!”

You spit your toothbrush into the sink.

“Shit! Are you okay?”

She laughs, one eye closed.

You move close, kissing all over her face: the closed eye, her brow, her nose before ending at her mouth. One peck. Two. You dive back in, pushing your tongue into her mouth.

She reciprocates eagerly, one arm around the back of your neck. The other finishing her exploration of your pants. You feel her hand cup you.

You groan before lifting her, carrying her to the bedroom. She’s giggling the whole time.

——

“Re—really? They’re happy… with it?” She stutters, not paying attention to what’s being said on the phone.

A member of the project called. Updates her on what happened since she was away. The higher ups are happy with the project. They praised her leadership. Wants to reward the team with a big dinner.

She’s happy of course. But her mind’s elsewhere.

“Ha—have you talked with the other members? Asked what they w—wanted?”

She moves the phone away from her mouth. Covers the microphone as she moans loudly. Her head bangs against your headboard. “Keep going.”

She puts the phone back against her ear. Catches the last part of whatever was said. Her other hand reaches down, grabs hold of your hair, pushing you further into her. She starts grinding into your mouth.

You smile. Continue lapping at her relentlessly. The need to breathe no longer a priority. You start pushing a finger inside. Then another as your tongue moves up, circling her clit.

She bucks. You use one hand to hold her down.

“J—just let me know what the others decide. I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Bye.” She ends the call quickly, throws her phone away. It clatters somewhere near the bedroom door.

“Oh my fucking—how are you so good?”

“I watched tutorials.”

“Can you send me the link? I want to show them to all my—“

You don’t let her finish, sucking on her clit. Hard.

You stop. Look up at her. Mouth wet. “Is there anyone else?”

She shakes her head quickly.

“Are you sure? Use your words.” You’re torturing her. Still, it’s nice to have power over her sometimes. Nice to see her chest rise and fall. See her cheeks flushed pink.

“No. No.”

You dive back in. Her head thrashes side to side. She extends her arm suddenly, knocking over the bedside lamp before she starts hitting the bed.

“Fuck fuck fuck”

She’s panting now, her thighs tightening over your head. You have to pry them open just to breathe.

“Keep going. Please— I’m close.”

Her thighs begin to quiver, tightening around you again. She grabs your pillow and screams into it as her orgasm tears through her. Her hips lift off the bed, dragging you with her. You don’t stop, working her through it.

Eventually, she loosens her thighs. Lets you climb over her, trailing kisses—hipbone, sternum, up to her mouth. She grabs the back of your neck, kissing you. Moans at her taste. You smile into the kiss.

“Did I make up for the supply closet?”

She can only nod furiously before kissing you again.

——

Friday’s here.

You kick the ground outside the office, your breath visible as you wait for your manager. Somehow, he’s managed to weasel his way into this celebratory dinner with your team. A project he wasn’t a part of. You don’t know why Sohyun agreed to this.

“Where are we going again?”

Oh and your manager invited Xinyu as well.

“Some new, fusion restaurant downtown,” you say noncommittally. You do your best to avoid her gaze, lest you face Sohyun’s ire. You wouldn’t mind, except all you and Sohyun have been doing lately is having sex. You’re kind of sore at this point.

“I shouldn’t even be here. I wasn’t part of the project.”

“You missed your opportunity to say no,” you say bluntly. Then you smile. Wry. “It’s alright. The manager wasn’t invited either yet somehow he’s coming along. Trust me, we’d rather have you there than him.”

She can’t help but smile. “Thanks. Feel a little better now.”

“Don’t say that. I heard there were plans to ditch you with him.”

She pushes you halfheartedly, laughing. You smile along with her.

“Alright! I’m here! Let’s go!”

——

“I call shotgun!”

You, Sohyun, and Xinyu stand frozen at the audacity of your manager. Watching him as he opens the passenger door to Sohyun’s car.

“Looks like he took shotgun,” Xinyu says as she walks to the back.

You look over at Sohyun. Her jaw is tight. She’s annoyed. At your manager or Xinyu, you’re not too sure.

“Can you drive?”

You huff. “Sure.”

She hands you the keys before making her way to the backseat, behind the driver.

As soon as you open the driver side door, your manager begins protesting. “What are you doing? This is Sohyun’s car.”

Sometimes, you want to punch him.

“She’s not feeling too well. Asked me to drive.”

“I can drive. Sohyun, come sit here.”

“No, no. I’ll feel worse there. Might throw up on you.” She makes a gagging sound. Your manager can’t help but gag along with her.

You look into the rear view mirror, see Xinyu smiling in amusement. You do too.

“Let’s go.”

——

“I swear I want to kill him.”

“You invited him.”

“He invited himself.”

“Should’ve said no then.”

“Whose side are you on?”

The both of you hang back a bit. Watch as the rest enter the restaurant. Xinyu lags behind the group, looking over her shoulder at you.

“Can we tell him what we did? That we stole his whiskey? Fucked on his desk?”

She’s leaning on her car. You’re standing in front of her, towering over her.

“That’s a sure way to get me fired.”

“You? Not we?”

“He likes you. He’d defend you. He’d paint me as some devil who seduced you into stealing his whiskey and having sex on his desk.”

She chuckles softly. She’s staring up at you, eyes wide. “If only he knew I was the seducer.”

You smile. “If only he knew.”

You lean down, kiss her softly on the lips before gently pushing her off the car and toward the restaurant.

“You think we could leave early? Or at least go to the bathroom?” She’s talking to you over her shoulder.

“Sohyun… I’m still sore from last night.”

“Maybe we could invite Xinyu to join us.”

You stay silent. She’s joking. Still, it’s not a bad idea. “Should we?”

“Fuck you.” She flips you off.

——

This is bad. Like a powder keg waiting to explode.

Your manager’s drunk. Is starting to get more handsy—firm grip on shoulders, pulling them close by the waist. Everyone’s uncomfortable. Especially the women.

You look to Sohyun, forced to sit by his side, shifting uncomfortably, drinking every shot he gives her. To Xinyu, staring at her flute of champagne, silent.

Your jaw tightens, knuckles turning white as you grip the edge of the table. Yet you don’t say anything. No one does. Too afraid to speak out, to lose their jobs. Even Sohyun, who preaches recklessness, can’t seem to put her job on the line.

“Why is everyone quiet? Drink. Drink!”

Even the other customers are uncomfortable.

“Why aren’t you drinking?”

You turn to face him, a butter knife pointed toward you. Everyone’s looking, the guy next to you—his name you can’t remember—nudges you, points at the shot in front.

Before you would’ve stayed silent, down the shot, keep him happy.

But you’ve changed. For the better.

“I’m not drinking tonight. I’m driving.”

“Who? You don’t even own a car.”

“Sohyun. Xinyu,” you say, voice cold. “Anyone else who wants a lift.”

He cackles. “Everyone here can take a cab! They don’t need you driving them home! Isn’t that right Sohyun?”

You watch as his hand grabs hold of her thigh. At the way she flinches but can’t move away. Your vision goes red. You stand, punching him in the nose. You hear a crack, watch as he falls off his seat. You don’t stop there, walking round the table and pummelling him.

Crack. Another bone.

They pull you off him before you do something you regret. You’re breathing heavily. Ears are ringing. You can’t hear anything until you feel Xinyu push you, telling you to go outside.

You walk out. Lean against the wall before sliding down it.

——

You stay like that for who knows how long. Until you see her white sneakers.

You look up. Sohyun crouches down to eye level. Looks over your features. She brushes a strand of hair from your eyes.

“You shouldn’t have done that.”

“I know.”

“You’re going to get fired.”

“I know.”

“Thank you.”

Her hands cup your cheeks before leaning in. Kisses your forehead.

You smile despite yourself.

“Where is everybody?”

“The hospital.”

You hum in acknowledgement.

She moves to sit beside you. Your hand stops her, gesturing to your lap instead. You don’t want her to dirty her clothes. She gently sits down, back against your chest. She holds your hand in hers.

“They’re not going to say it in public… but they’re thankful. For what you did.”

“I don’t care about them. They saw what he was doing. Didn’t do anything.”

“Hey. You’re angry. I get it. But don’t blame them. The only person to blame is that bastard.”

You’re quiet. She’s right. You place your lips over her shoulder, kissing it gently.

“Are you okay? Drunk?”

She squeezes your hand. “Maybe a little.”

“Come on then. Let’s sober you up.”

——

Sohyun watches as you slowly pack your things into a box. Security guards watching your every move.

Rumours were quick to spread. Of the inappropriate way the manager was acting during the dinner. You thought you’d be arrested for assault. Except, everyone at the dinner defended you and someone let slip to the restaurant the company you all worked at. Online posts begin circulating: how this company could allow such behaviour. How the workplace must be such a toxic environment.

It was shut down quickly by the higher ups, ordering an internal investigation. Obviously, they couldn’t tolerate violence against a manager, so even if everyone defended you, you still had to be let go.

It’s fine though. You hated this place anyway.

You finish packing. Head to the elevator escorted by the guards. When you reach the ground floor, you hand them your ID, bow to them before walking out the door.

Xinyu’s outside. Waiting for you.

——

You find yourself in a small cafe. No one here save for you, Xinyu, and a barista who finds her phone more interesting than anything else.

“It’s not fair. Firing you.”

You look up from your mug, a small, defeated smile on your face. “You say that as if they had choice,” you watch as she’s about to protest, only for you to continue. “I broke his nose. They can’t keep me on after that.”

You watch for her reaction. When she lets out a frustrated sigh, you exhale a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

After a couple of minutes of just sitting there, drinking your coffee, she speaks. “So… you and Sohyun huh?”

You were about to say something before she stops you with her hand. “No one punches their manager unless they’re doing something to someone you like. Would you do it again? If it was me?”

You don’t hesitate. “I would.”

She stares into your eyes. Relief flooding her face at your answer. Her eyes though. They looked resigned. Like, despite hearing the answer she wanted, it was not what she actually wanted.

It felt like a confession. Of the crush you harboured for her for the last three years. You wonder what would’ve happened if it was her and not Sohyun you got close with.

You rid yourself of that thought. You don’t regret any of this.

“I told you that you were different since you spent more time with Sohyun. You asked if that was good or bad…”

“I remember.”

“It was a good thing. Even if she can be a bit… territorial.”

“Like when she had you in her lap? Hand on your thigh?”

She winces at the memory. “Sorry about that.”

“Don’t be. It was hot.”

Her eyes widen in shock, disbelief at what you said. You’re also pretty sure that the barista’s no longer paying attention to her phone, more interested in your conversation.

“I don’t really have a filter anymore.” You wave your hand in the air as if your explanation made it all better.

“Did she ever… talk about me?” She asks shyly. You lean in, ready to tell her about the supply closet before she sits up straight. Covers her ears with her hands. “On second thought, I don’t want to know.”

You laugh. First time since the incident.

She smiles back at you.

“I should probably get going. Keep in touch.” She walks over to your side of the table, presses her lips to your cheek before walking out.

“There’s someone better than her?”

You turn at the sudden question from the barista. You can only give her a sharp nod.

——

You wipe the steam from the mirror. Stare at your reflection. Watch as water droplets slide down your face, into the scruff of your beard.

You need to shave.

You open the cupboard below the sink. Take out a razor and the shaving cream. You stand, turn the faucet on to wet your face a bit more.

You hear a whistle. Turning, Sohyun stands by the door. Hair in a high ponytail. Suit jacket discarded, she’s left in a black shirt, black pencil skirt, black stockings.

You exhale loudly. Those damn stockings.

“Wow,” she says, eyeing you like candy. “Hot.”

You scoff. You face the mirror, applying the shaving cream. “Just got back?”

“Uh-huh.” She’s closer now, leaning beside the mirror, watching you. “Have to say… would you consider wearing a Santa Claus outfit? It’s one of my fantasies.”

The blade freezes by your cheek. You would’ve said no without hesitation. Now, you’re actually contemplating hiring one.

She moves until she’s between you and the mirror, pries the blade from your hand. One hand pulls on the skin, the other slowly glides the blade against your skin. “The office. It’s boring now.”

You don’t say anything. Watch the concentration on her face. Only when she washes the blade do you speak.

“What? No one to flirt with? No intern kissing the floor you stand on?”

That annoyed her. She hooks a finger into your mouth, pulls your cheek taut before going over it with the blade. She scowls at you. You’ve long since stopped being afraid of it. Now it’s adorable.

The two of you have been fucking so much, you actually forgot how beautiful she was. Her eyes are focused, calculating. Pale skin contrasting against her dark clothes. Her mouth set in quiet concentration, plump. Perfect for kissing.

“You’re staring.” She finishes. Wipes the blade clean before tossing it into the trash.

You push her into the sink. You move until she’s flush against your skin. She cranes her neck up to see you. You’re more focused on the elegant line of her neck. The way her throat moves as she swallows thickly.

Before you can capture her lips, she presses a finger against your lips.

“Aftershave.”

You lean back, watch her grab the bottle. She pours a generous amount on her hand, spreads it before touching your face.

It burns.

You don’t break eye contact, keeping her hands on your cheek as you kiss her.

When you separate, your towel drops with a soft thud, pooling around you. She looks down, breath hitching at the sight of you, hard and leaking. She grabs you, takes you back into the shower. No care about what happens to her clothes.

——

Despite not working there anymore, you’re still kept in the loop on what’s happening in the office. Text messages from Xinyu to conversations during dinner with Sohyun.

You hear the passcode being entered into your door before opening. Sohyun’s home.

She kicks off her heels, leaves them lying on the floor. Drops her laptop bag by the shoe cabinet before walking toward you. Slow. Exaggerated hip sway. Her eyes never leaving yours.

You watch, mesmerised. Laptop forgotten on your lap. Your throat goes dry as she removes her hair clip. Shakes her hair loose. Soft and wavy. Framing her face in a way that makes you anticipate what she’ll do next. She drags her thumb across her lips, removes the lipstick before darting her tongue out, slowly licking them.

What is she doing to you?

Her hands find the zipper on her skirt, drags it down slow before letting it pool by her feet. You finally see her eyes, a predatory gleam to them. Dark. You can’t look away. Even as she slowly unbuttons her shirt, letting it glide down to the floor. Until she’s left in only her bra and panties. And stockings.

She stops in front of you. Closes your laptop. Tosses it on the far end of the couch. She straddles you, her weight settling on your lap.

“Rough day?”

Her fingers thread through your hair. Your eyes slowly close at the sensation. You feel her fingers move, from your hair to your glasses. She removes them, tossing them away.

She presses her lips to yours before speaking. “Had another interview about the manager. More like an interrogation.”

Another kiss.

“Talked about the incident. About you.”

Another.

“I think they wanted me to pin it all on you.”

You open your eyes then, half lidded. Hers the same, filled with lust.

“Did you?” You ask, voice hoarse.

She shakes her head, more strands fall over her eyes as she leans in again.

“They wish. Xinyu says there’s enough evidence for a full inquiry on him.”

Another kiss. Longer. Slower.

You separate. She whispers into your mouth. “I thought about you all day.”

She grabs your hands. Place one on her waist, the other on her breast. She moves her lips beside yours before biting your earlobe. You groan.

“Thought about your hands. Your mouth. Your—“

You couldn’t help but buck into her. You feel the sharp intake of breath. She’s smiling before biting your earlobe again.

“Sohyun—“

“Shh…” she pulls back, looks at you, breathing heavily. “I don’t want to talk anymore.”

She kisses you. Hungry. Deep.

You kiss back. Hands moving to her back. Fingertips lightly grazing her spine. She shivers. You feel the bra clasp. Undo it, letting it slide down her arms. She throws it somewhere behind her.

You start travelling lower, pressing your lips against her neck, collarbone before ending at her breasts. You alternate between both, giving extra attention to the nipples.

She moans loudly. Holds your head, keeping it close to her chest. One hand moves down, palms you through your pants.

Eventually, she pushes you off, dives back into your mouth.

You separate, both breathing hard.

“Bedroom?” You ask.

She shakes her head.

“Here. Now.”

She tugs on your shirt incessantly. You pull it off with ease, throwing it somewhere behind her.

She presses her lips on you: neck, shoulder, chest. They’re featherlight. Goosebumps appear on your skin.

She suddenly stands and turns, hooks her fingers into her stockings and pulls them down. Slowly. Ass pointed to you. Her head turns to face you, eyes gesturing to your sweatpants.

You get rid of them quickly, to not miss the show in front of you.

She kicks the stockings off her feet. Stands in front of you in only her underwear.

You move forward. Kiss her hipbone, her stomach, her thighs as you slowly peel them off her. You hear her panting, her hands twisting in your hair.

“No… I need you now.”

She pushes you back, straddling you quickly before lowering herself onto you.

You both groan simultaneously at the feeling.

Neither of you move, content with kissing. Only when the need to breathe becomes important did you separate. Foreheads touching, eyes staring deeply into yours as she starts rocking.

You hold her waist. Let her control the pace.

Her fingers move, gently grazes your jaw as she moans. As loud as she wants.

You’ve never seen anything more beautiful.

The way she sits up, one hand messing with hair. The way she looks down at you, eyes darkening as bites her bottom lip.

She’s losing it. Her rhythm, her voice.

You don’t want it to end.

She’s surprised when you lift, legs locking onto your waist. Her hands cup your face, kisses you desperately.

You turn, placing her onto the couch. She’s on her knees, facing the window, twinkling with lights outside.

You crouch behind her. Enter her slow. She bites her knuckles, eyes squeezed tight.

Only when you’re fully in do you move, matching the same pace as before. Long. Slow. You’re pressed into her back, one hand on her waist, the other just below her neck.

“F—fuck…”

You feel her tears fall onto your arm, hear the way she scratches the back of the couch with both hands. You pull one arm up, intertwine your fingers together as you get closer to release.

She’s louder now. You are too, breathing into her ear. You bite down on her shoulder to stop a loud moan. She pushes back against you, arching her back further.

She turns to face you, face covered in sweat, hair sticking. She captures your lips in a messy kiss as the hand on her waist finds her clit.

“Fuck. F—fuck…”

Her orgasm hits hard, moans muffled by your mouth. Holds onto your intertwined fingers tightly.

You keep going, prolonging her pleasure until you release into her.

You stay like that for what felt like hours. Heart racing. You wait until her breathing’s under control before you move, both of you moaning at the loss.

You sit beside her. She collapses into you before her head falls onto your lap. She looks up. Satisfied. Smiling.

“Feel better?”

“Hmm. Much.”

You smile, threading your fingers through her hair. You watch as she hums, closes her eyes and relax.

——

“Oh shit.”

She’s sitting on the counter in only your dress shirt, swinging her feet as you chop vegetables beside her. She grabs a piece. You open your mouth, still chopping as she places it in. You tease her by gently biting her finger. She slaps you on the shoulder.

“What is it?”

She turns her phone screen toward you. Placing the knife on the chopping board, you walk until you’re between her legs, reading the news article. You ignore the way her breathing stutters as you place your hands on her bare thighs.

“Shit.”

The company has taken a hit. A really bad one. Stocks free falling. The manager that you beat to a pulp at the centre of it all. Selling secrets to competitors. Private chats about the women in the office.

Your hand clenches.

“Ow.”

“Sorry.” You let go of her thigh, rubbing where you grabbed it too hard. You don’t notice that you’re caressing her higher than before, still engrossed in the article.

She locks her phone screen, places it on the counter beside her.

“Hey. I was reading that.”

She gently tilts your chin up. “Look at me.”

You meet her eyes. She’s searching your face.

“You okay?”

You exhale. You didn’t realise you were holding your breath.

“I’m—” You stop. Are you okay?

“You were right,” she says softly. “What you did. You were right.”

“I know.”

“Do you?” She cups your face. “Because you look like you want to hit him again.”

You laugh. It’s sharp, humourless. “I do.”

She nods. Doesn’t tell you that’s wrong. Doesn’t tell you to let it go.

“All the women he did that to. If I could go back,” you say slowly, “I’d do it again. Harder.”

“I know.”

You rest your forehead against her shoulder. Close your eyes.

“I’m glad you’re not there anymore. That place was poison,” she whispers.

“That place was poison.”

You pull back. Look at her.

“Are you okay? Being there without me?”

She smiles. Small, but real.

“I’m looking for other jobs.”

Your heart skips.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” She kisses you. Quick, soft. “I’m done with that place too.”

——

You play with the collar of your dress shirt. It’s too tight round your neck, you’re suffocating.

“Stop that. She’d kill you if you mess with it.”

You stare at her through her vanity mirror. She puts on the final touches of makeup, checks herself before giving you a wink and kiss in the reflection.

She moves towards you, takes the tie from your hand before helping you with it.

“I still can’t believe she’s getting married.”

“Why? You still have a crush on her?” She pulls your tie too hard, making you splutter.

You had to tap her hand to get her to release.

You cough. “I’m just saying. She left the company same time as you. When was that? Two years ago? And she’s getting married already? Isn’t that too soon?”

She pats your shoulder. “Just be happy for her.” She leaves you standing there, moving to the living room.

You can’t help but stare, wishing she’d wear dresses more often. Thin straps, the hem just barely reaching her knees. The pastel pink colour. Not to mention the headband.

You love her.

“Come on. We’re going to be late.”

You follow her to the front door. You kneel down, help her with her heels as she holds you for stability. You let your fingers linger on her calf, rising to her thighs before she pushes you off.

“We don’t have time.”

You laugh, putting your shoes on. As soon as you were about to open the door, she stops you.

“Wait.”

She reaches down, pulls her panties down before handing them to you. She smiles and winks at you, gives you a quick kiss before heading out first.

You look at them, eyes wide. You stuff them into your pocket, running after her.

“Are you sure we can’t be late?”

She laughs.

You choke on air. "Gong Yubin, what the fu—"

She's already scooting towards you, grinning widely like she just suggested going out for a Jollibee dinner on a random Wednesday. "I have been on tour for soooo long! I work hard, I dance hard, I sing even harder! I deserve to have some fun too!"

"Well…yes you work hard, and I’m proud of you, bu—"

"I'm bored. You're horny like half the time we're together.”

“No I do no—”

“And I have been training my gag reflex on my toys whenever the girls aren't around." She pats her own cheek twice, as if she didn't just announce a weird revelation that is definitely TMI. "C'mon. Free use, no judgement. We're literally close enough that we share a toothbrush anyway."

"That's because you aren't bothered buying o—"

"Pllleeeaassseeee?" She flops backward again, scooting until her head hangs off the edge of the mattress. She looks at you with a pair of pleading eyes that seems to work all the time. "How could you refuse a request of a cute and pretty girl like me to fuck my throat as hard as you want?"

Your cock twitches inside your pants. Damn you and your horny brain. Pretty sure the head of your cock is doing all the thinking now, with how quickly you set your phones down and position right in front of her face.   

"See? Not so hard, isn't it?" She giggles. "Well, your cock is, but you know what I mean."

"This is one of the weirdest shit you have ever asked me to do."

"Uh huh, and you're stalling, buddy." Yubin reaches up blindly and hooks two fingers in your wasitband and yanks. "Let me see that damn hard dick of yours. I have vocal lessons after we get back from our trip and I want to make sure I can blame you for destroying my throat."

She makes a pleased little hum when you finally shoved your pants down. Your raging hard cock bobs free (and embarrassingly eager, too) and she opens her mouth wide, tongue flat, and then twirl that damn fucking sexy tongue in a circle in an inviting manner. You step closer, letting the tip of your cock brush her bottom tip. That alone brings a muffled moan out of you, and then another one when she flicks her tongue against a slit once.

"Are you sure this is oka—"

She rolls her eyes. "If you don't fuck my face in the next five seconds, I'm gonna walk out right now and start begging for a stud to fuck me ins—"

You hate that she knows how to trigger your sanity, because instinctively, you grab her throat with your hand and forcibly ram your cock inside her throat. “Don’t even bring a random dude into this, Gong Yubin.”

The first thrust is brutal, going straight past her soft palate with no warm-up whatsoever. Her throat convulses immediately around you like it's clinging the fuck out of your dick, but instead of pulling away she just arches her back harder. Her head dangles further off the edge so you can use her even rougher.

And yep, a thick and wet glurk rips out of her instantly.

Saliva explodes from the corners of her stretched, puffy lips. It gushes out in heavy ropes, coating your shaft in her sloppy layers before dripping in fat strings down to her forehead, then her hair, and then onto the carpet with wet plaps. And the more you pump, the messier it gets. Each brutal thrust drags out more spit, and every slam back forces a fresh wave of it to bubble and overflow.

Fuck, you know she's a hot girl, but Yubin's so fucking sexy when she’s drooling like a broken faucet. Thick, bubbly strands connect her cock to her chin every time you pull back, and splatters when you ram back in again. Your balls are so slick as it slaps against her noise with each thrust, making her inhaling all the musky smells.

And she is really, really, really into that. Why? Because while her throat is getting absolutely destroyed, she shoves one hand down into her boy shorts.

It is loud and clear — the frantic, slippery pumps of her fingers into her cunt are messy as hell. Her hips buck every time you bottom out, fucking herself in time with your thrusts. Her muffled moans are the icing on the cake of spits, with the deep and needy "mmph!" sounds that get more and more broken the harder you go.

You tighten your grips around her throat, fully intending to use her throat like an onahole as she so fucking wants. Her throat belts out these obscene and gurgling squelches that you are so sure the next door will hear how much of a mess you're making out of Yubin. The saliva is everywhere — coating your shaft in a glossy, dripping sheen, stringing between your balls and her nose, and smearing across her cheeks without a care.

You can feel her throat constricts even more around you, milking you even more as she chokes. Each thrusts of yours become deeper, shoving your balls more insistently towards her nose, and you swear you can hear the wet squelch of her cunt is getting louder and louder as she fingers herself deeper.

"Shit, Yubi—"

You pull out, mainly out of concern for your best friend, but partly because you want to see the damage in progress. Well, Yubin whines at the loss of your cock in her throat.

It is the most pathetic yet the hottest you hear out of her (high-pitched and needy). A long, broken "whyyyy" manages to get out through the spit still clinging to her vocal cords. Her lips are swollen and glistening like she just throated a cylinder. Thick ropes of saliva and precum stretch from the fat purple head of your cock all the way to her chin, and then they snap and splatter across her upside down face.

She gasps once, then twice, then immediately cranes her neck even farther like a baby bird begging for more worms (Except this baby bird is filthy as fuck.)

"Don't— don't fucking stop!" She coughs. "You fucking pussy, really think this gonna break me that easily?" Her fingers still go in and out of her bruised cunt. "Cmon, fuck my throat. Ruin it. Fuck my face like you hate me. Make me choke so hard I see death's door. Let me gag on your fat fucking cock until my throat's wide enough that it can only satisfied by yours alone. Just fucking use me like your dumb little cocksleeve you always want, you bitch!"

Holy shit. You swear no viagra was consumed, yet your cock is raging hard so bad that it hurts.

Well…she asked for it.

You smack her face with your free palm, making her open her mouth before you ram into the tight throat once again. Fresh spit gushes around your shaft, pouring down her face in rivers, coating your balls, dripping in fat globs and contributes to the huge puddle of spits below. Every time you bottom out she lets out a broken mantra of gurgled moans around your cock. It mangles into wet nonsense but still somehow the dirtiest thing you have ever heard.

You can feel her throat spasming harder now, fluttering like it’s trying to suck the soul out of you. Her free hand claws at your ass and pulls you as deep as she can until her nose is mashed flat against your pelvis and she can’t breathe at all. She looks completely fucking destroyed (her pretty, bubbly face turned into a sloppy, drooling mess), and she has never looked hotter.

That gets you close to releasing your load.

You yank out again, the hard cock springing free with a wet pop and a thick rope of spit that slaps across her cheek like a slap. And of course, this needy bitch whines.

“Noooo—put it back, you bitch—don’t you dare leave me hanging—” Her voice is shredded, barely there, cracking on every word. “I was so close—my puffy cunt is throbbing so fucking bad—c’mon, choke me again, baby, make me cum with your huge dick down my throat, pleasepleaseplease—”

She sticks her tongue out as far as it can go, trying to lick at the cockhead even as more drool cascades down to the floor.

“Paint my fucking face if you have to, just don’t stop using my throat. I wanna feel this fucking dick twitch when you cum. Wanna swallow every thick drop while I ruin my own needy cunt. Wanna be your nasty little cum-dump slut tonight.” True to her word, her fingers speed up inside her shorts, and the wet sounds turn into outright gushing now. Her whole body jerks like she's about to faint from ecstasy.

So you just mindlessly ram into her for the last time. One. Two. Three deep brutal thrusts. And then you pick up the pace into something more violent and frequent. She screams around your cock, and her whole body locks up. Her cunt clenches so fucking hard you aren't sure if the squelching comes from her slutty mouth or from her needy pussy. She holds the fingers stationary and then buck her hips up, desperately and violently, before her thighs clamp around her own hand and make the biggest fucking mess with her girl juice — soaking through her boy shorts and leave a dark patch onto the sheets.

Yeah, that snaps the last thread of sanity in you.

Burying balls deep in her, you unload thick loads straight down her convulsing throat. You can visibly see her throat working overtime, swallowing greedily as she still trembles through her own orgasm. Some spills out - a creamy, white and viscous liquid mixing with the plethora of spits on her face, before it bubbles at the corners of her mouth and drips down in filthy streaks.

When you finally pull out, she gives a wet and wrecked cough before dissolving into hoarse giggles.

"Fuuckk yes!" She licks her own messy lips. "You taste so fucking good, bestie."

She rolls onto her side, still giggling like a lunatic, ignoring how her face is a masterpiece of ruin.

You collapse beside her and breathe heavily with your whole chest. She reaches over and pat your thigh with a sticky hand and gives a sprinkle of adoring kisses to your spent cock.

"Ten out of ten. Would let you ruin my needy throat again." She laughs harder. "But I should bring my toys next time, just to see how many of them will spread my pussy while you expand my throat even more."

“What the fu—” You throw a pillow at her face, and of course, she catches it (just because) and presses it to her cum and spit covered cheeks before letting out a contented sigh.

"Tomorrow, I'll let you fuck my ass. And I’ll make sure you feeeellll so good."

Yeah, say bye to your sanity. 

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Note: Hi!! Thank you so much for the explosive support for the Soda fic! It's a very plot heavy fic, so I'm glad it came out well. This one is the opposite of that, as you can tell, so hope it turns out nice.

Geum Junghoon didn’t even consider being conscripted into military service after he turned eighteen thanks to the safety net of getting into college, with him and his friends making academic pursuits their main reason. For Junghoon, he took it seriously. Until nineteen, he was focused on his academics like he was at war with the terror of failing a single class, but was able to loosen up when he got himself invested with a bizarre yet welcoming extracurricular. A year later, turning twenty years old was the first most tumultuous of his young adult life, with the first half turning out to be one of his best years, and the latter half being the worst. But he kept going, and months after turning twenty-one, he made the choice to enlist the moment one of his closest friends got the claws of conscription coming for him. They were already seniors in their first semester.

He had the same right, the same entitlement to take his leave as the rest of his fellow draftees, but even his own commanders were surprised with how seldom he expressed taking his personal leave. His closest companions had to come out and take him with them or include his own name when they were requesting their leave to their officers.

Throughout the whole year, Junghoon spent his leaves taking a bus to Daegu, where his family’s hometown was. But it was still a Friday. Last week, he chose to stay on his base. It was somewhat of a disappointment for them, but Junghoon didn’t want them to worry too much. Other families probably would’ve needed it more was one reason he justified himself, but a part of his mind kept it, so they wouldn’t feel burdened by the demand of his presence on the holidays. It would’ve probably broken their hearts if he ever admitted such a self-deprecating yet honest thought.

He arrived at the bus stop an hour and five minutes later, yet his home was not the first destination to come to mind. The truth was, no one outside their base was still aware of his leave, except that he would be visiting Seoul on Saturday. It gave him a one day grace period before most folks in his life would get closer to his proximity, literally or digitally. With his duffle bag hanging on his shoulder, he took a walk across the street’s nightlife.

Visiting a bar wasn’t his ideal, but it was better than the many times his buddies tried dragging him into a nightclub to party, contradicting his simple desire to explore more of the cultural spots of Pyeongtaek located outside their base, something that he did do by himself at times. Tonight, the memories of his home were slowly coming back to him. The bartender was nowhere to be found, so the man sat and waited on the nearest stool. Taking a quick look around, the location wasn’t as rowdy and crowded as he had hoped. It was the ideal place to settle for the night, and perhaps, it would be the perfect chilling spot. He was reassured by one mentality, the fewer familiar faces there were, the better. Rather than just holding on to his duffle bag next to the stool beside him, the only thing missing was a bottle of quality beer in his hand to continue this night with more silence. He looked at the digital clock above the backbar. The digits reached 10:00 PM just now.

From his left, the staff-only door finally opened seconds later and out came the face of a good old acquaintance who welcomed him from the aisle. “Annyeonghaseyo! Apologies for keeping you waiting.” Without looking too closely into him, her hand reached for an empty glass. “What can I get y—Geum Junghoon-ssi?” Until her vision caught his face.

In Junghoon, there was no disappointment in his face. Strangely enough, he exhaled a sense of relief. “Kim Nakyoung-sunbaenim?” His smile followed after, mirroring hers.

“Yah, daebak,” she cheered, opening her arms wide. “It’s been a while! How are you?”

It’s only been over a year since Jeunghoon had stumbled upon a senior in and out of campus, not counting his closest friends who either resided close to the district of the university or enrolled into graduate school. Nakyoung appeared to be in the former, though he had yet to know more about her current whereabouts.

“So what will you be having?” she asked him, balancing her job to listen to a customer as well as her enthusiastic attention as an old friend. Before his arrival, she seemed to have already entertained some of the locals before they went to their own tables with fellow patrons. At this hour, it’s just the two of them on the counter.

“Hmm…” He tried to inspect the bottles on the backbar, but his cluelessness with brands made him resort to saying, “Just a bottle of your cheapest beer will be fine, thank you.”

“Okay!” Her pitch raised for that one word as she headed to pick a bottle from the fridge. “I’ll give you our finest bottle, then.”

“Oh, aniyo, sunbae…” He shook his head and hands by instinct. “You don’t have to—”

Nakyoung squinted her eyes and pouted at his response. “Cut those honorifics. There won’t be sunbae, noona, or ahjumma leaving your mouth.” She opened the cap with a bottle opener. “And besides, giving this treat is the least I can do for your service. Also, you technically can’t decline a drink from a senior.” A little playful power trip made him feel less isolated than usual, even though he himself was no stranger to following orders.

“Aigoo,” Junghoon chuckled, forcing himself to take the opened bottle and taking his first sip of the night. “Well, this is actually very smooth. It’s nice… Gomopseumnida.”

“Right?” she cheered, affirming the man’s compliment before he took another good sip.

“But in my defense, I’m just going through a mandatory service,” he continued. “You basically give that kind of privilege to any other men who drink here.”

“I wouldn’t say all of them, but touché.” Her smile sharpened into a smirk. “But, still, I heard you did it for your friend, so that’s something else I can respect.”

“Who in the…” His mouth formed into a small gape, caught by her tease. “Told you—”

“Yubam did…” she confessed, raising her hands in the air. “Ever since she started dating Yeonghwan, she’s been close with your group as well.”

He shook his head keeping his smile closed. “She can’t—well, I can’t even blame her, or hyung. You two are just that close… Ever since both our clubs converged, and all that.”

“That’s true, but even outside that, she just cares about you,” she added, albeit adding some playful hints of speculation from her side. “I’d say even a little too much.”

“Well, I don’t think that’s the case,” he shrugged off. “And even if that’s true, she’s more of a sister to me... Aside from my own little cousin and Kotone-chan, I can say the same for Yubin-ah…and she’s taken things with hyung to the next level, like the next level, so I doubt there’s gonna be anything keeping them from staying committed.”

Fascination crawled up to her in the form of a heartfelt smile. She realized he was much more mature than they last had a heart-to-heart conversation. “You’re becoming more interesting tonight, Junghoon-ah… Let’s see what else has the service changed you.”

“What makes you say that?”

“I think you’re much wiser than our first talk.” Although one moment stuck to her the most. “I still remember when we prepared our festival booth. You were asking me for advice about how you’d handle your super crush back then like you were begging for pointers about a finals examination.”

“That wasn’t even our last conversation.” He tried to be dismissive, more embarrassed to recall the memory than she was eager to bring it up to him. Sensing the man’s slight discomfort, she went easier with her approach.

“Sure, but first impressions tend to leave a mark more, at least for me… You don’t have to be too embarrassed about it. Just trying to bring back a memory, for ol’ times sake?”

“I wasn’t embarrassed,” he denied weakly, but she’s already gotten through his head. Funnily enough, he’s gone through worse intimidation tactics during his training and service from his commanders.

“All right… I was just curious if something took off. Just don’t want my advice to go to waste, after my little counseling from two years ago.”

“Well, if you’re still that curious, I shot my shot,” he put it simply, to her dissatisfaction.

“And—?” She immediately asked further, as if it was a juicy story waiting to unfold.

“It ended,” he cut it short. “She’s a senior like you, so that’s just how things go, I guess.”

There was audible bitterness in the croak of his delivery. “Mianhae,” she mumbled.

“Don’t be,” Junghoon flaunted his hand away as if his sorrow was something physical.

“I don’t wanna ask exactly how it happened with you, but situations like that didn’t have to end that tragically, though. Just look at Myungsoo-ah and Yooyeon-unnie right now. They’re literally both in graduate school…”

“Exactly my point. Not everyone gets to have the same dream and ambition. I’m happy for them, but you have to admit, hyung got really lucky with Yooyeon-sunbae. Others, well, weren’t so much…”

That same loneliness he had was radiating through her. “I’m with you there, so don’t feel like you’re left out… We are like a lot of folks here tonight. Not all of them, but still... Not everyone gets to be with someone since New Year’s Eve.”

“Feels really assuring, Naky-yah,” he professed, before taking another sip of his beer.

“Just doing my job… We don’t always have to feel pitiful just because we’re alone.”

“Yeah… Speaking of which, when did you first do this whole bartender gig?”

“Oh, I’ve only started six months ago… My harabeoji ran this place for decades, but then he retired and so for the longest time, this was my uncle’s bar... Then he got into rebab.”

“Oh, that’s…” He couldn’t find the next words to describe his surprise and sympathy.

“Gwenchana,” she quickly soothed his concern. “He’s doing his best to recover now… In the meantime, my cousins and I have been taking turns week after week.”

“Ah, I see…” He bobbed his head. “So you’re not gonna be bartending forever, then?”

“I hope not… I’m just taking a gap year… Just working on the side whenever I can like at the PC bang, gym, or sales. Gain some skills I may or may not be needing in the future.”

That was also the story of his life. “You were a dance major, if I remember correctly?”

The mention of her education put an enthusiastic smile to her face. “Yeah, I was.”

“Hmm… I was thinking, why not audition to be an idol?”

“Oh, no… I’m not chasing some dangerous dream, no offense to my younger self… Especially not after all the whole can of worms that would come into that.”

He felt bad by just bringing the idea up. “Yeah, that’s a good point… Better steer your feet away from turbulent waters if they’re not calming down anytime soon.”

“Mmm-hmm… But I have started collecting all offers for a choreographer, or maybe just being a fitness trainer first like I do sometimes.”

“Seems like a good start. I just hope you don’t give up on it… Choreographing, I mean.”

She exhaled with a sense of acceptance and a hint of determination. “I already gave up my idol dream the moment I got into college, so I definitely won’t give up on this one.”

“I do think you could still qualify for an idol in a lot of ways… I heard from Honggi that the industry’s not as weird with age as they were, but even taking that into account, I still believe talent and hard work should still matter the most by the end of the day.”

“That’s sweet…” Her tone shifted into a sardonic one. “But I don’t know what Honggi’s sources are, because that’s still mostly a load of bull… Coming from two girls who have actually tried auditioning in the industry a couple of times… Me and my older sister.”

Junghoon let out a chuckle. She’s had the looks, the talent and skills to be an artist, yet he understood why it wouldn’t be ideal or even pragmatic to make this possibility real.

“In another world, maybe… Right now, I wanna figure out how I can deal with my life as it is… I don’t wanna take out my other options just because I haven’t tried them out yet.”

“You and I both,” he confessed.

“Well… You still have a semester left, but as your sunbae, I still hope you don’t spend the rest of it getting back signing up for a part-time job, arasseo? Make the most of it while you still can… You might regret it once you graduate.”

“You got any regrets, Naky-yah?” He knew he had plenty, but he’d rather hear her side.

“Some. A few, but not as many as I thought. Even if I’m not working at some big studio or agency, I get to do these gigs and hang out with my pals without obsessing too much on going back to campus… But hey, it’s just me.”

“And you say like being a senior makes you seem ill or something,” he humored her, but her mode of lecturing was far from over.

“Just an analogy… But you get my point. I was your senior, after all? I’m just giving you my advice. That’s just one of your perks if you’re lucky enough. Hoobaes will look up to you and ask you some things, even if you might not have the answers, you just tell them as honest as you have to be.”

“That makes sense. But I–uhh… you know I can’t promise anything even if it’s good advice, but I’ll try to balance things out.”

She found the man to be quite stubborn, albeit in an amusing way. She was aware of the things he’s been through, but if she couldn’t change her mind, at least she got to lend her food for thoughts and presence. “You do you, Junghoon-ah... You want a second bottle?”

He just noticed his bottle being empty, making him place his right cheek on his warm hand with a humble smile. Far from tipsy, less hesitant to decline. “Well, who am I to say no? Add that to my tab, bartender.”

“Majayo!” she cheered, walking back to the fridge. “Another bottle coming right up.”

With their futures having been the spotlight of their discussion during their reunion, the next half an hour was spent more with the two catching up from their pasts and present. Junghoon asked for more of Nakyoung’s account during her last semester. Rather than completely press Junghoon on his service, he confessed how he had gained his position as a cook in the last six months.

“You’re like Jungkook!” she pointed out with a cheery cadence, softly tugging his shoulder back and forth. “He was a cook, and he also got promoted as Sergeant.”

“That’s actually what my friends said, but sure… I’ll definitely take that compliment.”

When his turn was over, Nakyoung made him recall about his ascension even before senior year, mentioning his entry to student council and helping out seniors with their farewell party, considering she wasn’t present to join and dine in with his department’s conclusive event a week before her graduation. The young man made her realize that it didn’t matter, admitting that tonight pretty much felt like the party he helped prepare, only a lot less rampant and noisy with all other students amidst clinking their bottles or glasses and grilling fresh meat. Although his description made Nakyoung envious about missing out, she got herself a glass of apple juice just to replicate that moment. Amused by her effort, Junghoon offered to pour her glass, which Nakyoung accepted, somewhat appreciative and embarrassed by him going along with her spirited antics. Tonight was not only a night of reunion, but also a shared night of hopeful renewal.

Nakyoung leaned from the counter and turned her head sideways with curiosity, which amused Junghoon. “By the way, your posture is unbelievably straight, you know that?”

He craned his neck to inspect himself from the back for a moment. “You noticed? Huh.”

“Some fellas from the table are lookin’ at you really funny, so yeah,” she shot back.

“Just how I was trained, I guess… Now, it’s just a habit of mine… I was wondering that if they really served in the forces, they would’ve understood why I’ve gotten used to this.”

“Touché,” the woman chuckled, raising her hands without rebuttal. And throughout their countless topics, they took one moment for their eyes to lock at each other. He noticed her hair had gone longer, but more filterless thoughts made him self-aware.

“I’ll head into the comfort room for a second. Would you mind looking after my bag?”

“Oh, sure…” From the counter, her hands reached out to his bag, and he complied while making sure she barely felt its weight. “Here, just put it right here. Just get it when you need it back.” Nakyoung carefully placed it on a spot under the counter, out of anyone else’s sight and reach except herself.

The scent of the comfort room was cleaner than he expected. There’s more filth when he and his unit were locked inside a room in the Hwasaengbang for an hour. Compared to that experience, this room was a breath of fresh air, although the smaller space has been getting into his nerves. He couldn’t stay inside for so long, but the presence of Nakyoung made him feel less like he was still at the base for better reasons. Maybe it was the warm and welcoming approach she made towards him that made tonight an early welcoming, how amiable the atmosphere between them had felt. After emptying his bladder on the stall, Junghoon headed to the sink, washing his hands along with most misgivings. This woman was making him feel fluttery. He would’ve probably made an excuse for himself about the lack of encounters with women, but that wasn’t true either, considering some of his fellow recruits and even commanders were women, and not to mention the ones he got acquainted with outside Pyeongtaek, when his friends, old and new, persuaded and dragged him during their first leaves at the approval of their commander. At least, those gave them opportunities to venture out into the outside world from time to time.

A tranquil glance into the mirror gave him a flash of comparison between his past and present. The thickness of his skin on his chin down to neck was no longer present. His figure and muscles have never looked more toned. Maybe this progress gave him more esteem about how people might have perceived him before. Maybe it only lessened his concern about it, knowing his confidence has predated his obstacles. With this, a more stubborn part of him didn’t regret going through all the struggle, agony, and discipline that were instilled on him the moment he enlisted. Even if he already had enough of it.

However, the closeness he was making with Nakyoung was making his hair stand up and almost shiver under his coat and sweater when they exchanged laughter, making him itchy enough to want and take off the latter in the midst of this winter evening. It’s not the first time a woman has ever made him feel like this, hence he shrugged it off and warmed his face by blowing air from his mouth while rinsing the liquid soap with water. Comfort with a friend shouldn’t warrant for someone to expect something more from it.

He turned off the faucet and shook his hands, taking a deeper breath before opening the door. Upon exiting the comfort room, however, what Junghoon was witnessing, the view was less peaceful. Noticing the formal suit and his shaggy hair, presumably between his mid-thirties to early forties, it was a man from a single’s table who instantly latched onto Nakyoung’s wrist, only for her to let herself go in a swift motion. Nevertheless, the scene was more than concerning for Junghoon to get his legs running as fast back to the bar, where Nakyoung mouthed to him not to get involved. Something like this shouldn’t be done nor be tolerated by anyone. If no one else was going to handle this uncomfortable situation, his moral obligation pushed him to do something about it.

“What seems to be the problem here, ahjussi?” he kept his tone as composed, unlike the man he was confronting, who already appeared to be at his breaking point, intoxicated.

“Don’t call me ahjussi…” the older man growled while Junghoon slowly walked closer. “You’ve had this chick’s attention in the last hour… You better know your place—”

“I don’t mind being called that, sir…” With her words, the woman stood for herself and her old friend, crossing her arms and maintaining her face of disappointment. “But the ounce of time and attention I give to someone else shouldn’t be your business.”

“The hell it’s not…” He flaunted his empty glass at her, holding it as if it was some knife. “We pay you to entertain—”

“With all due respect, you mainly pay a bartender like me to give you drinks and listen if you want us to listen to you,” she shot back, intimidated by his sudden aggression. “This may not be a love motel, but I hope you can still watch your tone…”

Junghoon was not the only person who chuckled at her clapback. Most of the patrons let out a cackle from their table while others sneaked in their smiles, but it only lit the spark into the man’s fuse. Junghoon remained on high alert, sensing the temper of the man in the suit fizzing out in real time. And at this right moment, the young man saw him raise his right hand holding his glass like it was a rock. He held onto his wrist before he could charge and get a foot closer to the counter, much to Nakyoung’s shock right as the glass dropped on the floor. All of the patrons turned their heads with sympathy and intrigue.

The glass shattered only in a few pieces, but the enraged drunkard took advantage of the chaos by letting out a rabid scream and raised his other hand in a closed fist. Despite the pandemonium, Junghoon’s other hand caught it in time. “You should… Calm down sir,” he warned him with a compassionate tone amidst this slight struggle between raw rage and concentrated defense exerted through their arms and core, waiting until one gave up without throwing any punch or kick from either man. Nakyoung stayed inside the counter, though she began texting someone on her phone while keeping her gaze of extreme concern for Junghoon, considering the man was a little bit taller than him. Unfortunately for him, Junghoon has carried, fired rifles heavier than his arms. He himself could also do much more than holding him in place. Bend an arm and tackle him into the floor. But he waited, staring at his eyes and quietly examining his spirit.

Feeling himself slowly weakening and overpowered, the older man fell on his knees, but Junghoon slowed his fall into the floor. “I, uh, I underestimated you.” The man let out a weak chuckle, yet his right palm has yet to let go of him. “Young man… Joseonghaeyo.”

Junghoon was perplexed by his somewhat humorous response, but he’d rather simmer things down than worsen the state of the place and the night. “Well, don’t apologize to me, Sir.” He knelt down on one knee, leveling with him. “Apologize to our bartender here and everyone else’s night.”

Covered by his own messy hair, the older man’s parched throat hitched before letting out a muffled whimper, slowly putting both hands on his eyes as he continued to weep louder. As Nakyoung was expecting, the bouncer walked in from the entrance, although he signaled her hand to stay put, allowing Junghoon to gently pat his back while silently asking the bartender for a glass of water for the man to drink. In the following moment, he mumbled about his broken marriage, his strained relationship with his children, and his regrettable infidelities. His tendencies to end it all. The young man sighed with woe.

“Just go home, take a shower, and go to sleep, Sir,” Junghoon advised, making himself more vulnerable, despite everyone else’s harrowing concerns inside the bar, with some literally being at the edge of their seats. “It’ll make most things better in the morning.”

With much less of his aggressive entry, the bouncer escorted the whimpering man to the exit, with Nakyoung handing him his suitcase on their way out before leaving a soft bow.

Getting up from his knees, Junghoon quickly looked at her right wrist. “Gwenchanayo?”

Nakyoung exited the counter with a broom and dustpan on her hands, although her eyes scanned his hands for any signs of scrapes or scratches, failing to hide her relief with her wide smile. “I’m okay… But I’m supposed to ask you that question.”

“I just feel relieved…” He exhaled. “Fuck, I didn’t expect this night to play like this.”

“Me neither, and yet you handle it better than I expected,” she giggled before carefully to sweep the shards of the glass off the floor. “Like, seven hundred times better.”

A guilt-ridden Junghoon tried to offer his help with sweeping the mess, but Nakyoung politely nudged her hands, still using her bartender position as a reason to do this job. “Just using what I’ve learned. Diffusing the situation before it can blow up.”

As if Nakyoung’s respect for him wasn’t already high enough, his actions tonight only elevated it. Perhaps more than that. “Bouncer-oppa didn’t even have to do anything besides escorting him outside, so it’s nice… You did a pretty damn good job.”

Aside from his goal of keeping the woman safe, he simply didn’t see himself in the older man as much as he thought, but the long defeat and hopelessness in his eyes weakened his heart. It’s a loss he wouldn’t want anyone else to go through unless they have done something. “Everyone’s got demons they’re trying to fight, so I’d rather have him deal with it than let him bring it out on everyone else…” He cleared his throat. “But enough about me or that man, because, man, you actually defended yourself there really well.”

“Thanks, but if it makes you feel any better, it’s not the first time someone tried to hit on me,” she hummed, feeling some appreciation for both his deed and compliment. “I was just doing my job. That doesn’t mean I have to be a pushover. Folks have already been getting into fights at the clubs nowadays, so I’d rather keep the silence around here.”

“Yeah, but things have been getting stale in here now ‘cause of the mess he and I made.”

“The mess he made,” she corrected him, based on her personal recollection. “You just defended yourself and talked some sense into him. Folks are bummed ‘cause of him.”

He breathed into his closed fists. “Well, I think I may need a snack… You got some?”

“We got a lot of different chips and sweets inside the pantry. I can get some if you want,” she informed him. “We don’t cook anymore when it’s late ‘cause my uncle’s not around, and two, people don’t just order them here when they can but outside…” She paused for a second. “Which is an excuse we also made up ‘cause we can’t cook shit for customers.”

He only laughed off her self-depracating tone, but he already got an idea to make up the mood he somewhat helped kill. “The snacks would be great, but ummm, if it’s okay with you, do you mind if I help out in the kitchen?”

Nakyoung was enticed. She heard of his reputation from their mutual friends even before his enlistment into service, but she has yet to experience his casual culinary expertise first-hand. “You’re gonna show me your cooking skills during my shift?”

“Show you?” he snickered while cracking his finger joints. “Aniyo. You can watch from the bar if you want, but I want to treat everyone here to some anju, if y’all want some.”

She opened the staff-only door for him. “Really now? You’re up for that challenge?”

Junghoon could see the kitchen from afar. Clean but unoccupied, and it bothered him, weirdly enough. Ever since he sat and drank on the same stool in the past hour, he had been itching to do something productive, especially if it could benefit someone besides himself. He looked back at Nakyoung and nodded. “Consider it a one-night exclusive.”

“Can’t wait…” she played four of her fingers on the wooden exterior of a counter. “Get in the kitchen... I’ll help out as much as I can. Buy you some ingredients that we’re out of.”

She extended her hand, prompting him to walk inside. “Appreciate it…” He told her while looking around the stove. This was still a functioning kitchen. “I’ll pay later–”

“Nonsense... This isn’t why I agreed, Junghoon. Just text me a list of what you need and I’ll head to the market down the street.” Nakyoung stretched her arms and cracked her knuckles before opening the door, leaving it open for a moment as patrons could hear and witness her announcement loud and clear. “Hey, yeorobun… Yeorobun! Just for tonight, my friend here in the kitchen is gonna be cooking a couple of dishes straight from our afternoon menu, so don’t be too shy to ask for some, all right? It’ll be on the house! Additional servings will have to be paid, though, but the first servings are free.”

Most of the patrons raised their bottles and glasses in the air with rejoice, with some gradually filling up the stools while they watched him from the open door. Nakyoung threw an extra apron for Junghoon to wear while he scanned the small kitchen for the necessary tools and equipment, as well as stock of ingredients in the fridge and pantry. Ones unavailable were bought by his sunbae straight from the nearest wet market while they juggled handing out more drinks to customers, with some asking for more servings. 

A couple more new entries from either the same market or elsewhere would join the bar, buying a glass or bottle of drinks just so they could have something to nibble on the side. Throughout the rest of an hour, Junghoon left everyone else in awe and excitement with his rendition of familiar, scrumptious anju that didn’t take long prep and cooking times. From mung bean and scallion pancakes to stir-fried pork belly and blood sausage, both the cook and bartender were able to serve and satisfy the dozen patrons to high praise. Despite working non-stop, Nakyoung herself was also indulging in small nibbles, while Junghoon would shake his head in amusement while carefully holding the sizzling pan with his gloved hand.

“Your boyfriend here knows how to make some classics…” A patron in a construction worker’s vest and sleeves raised his shot glass with commendation alongside his three coworkers. “It’s much tastier than the last pocha we went to. Wah, this is good stuff.”

She expected such a term from a customer, but it still made her giggle. “He’s just an old friend, ahjussi… But he definitely appreciates your praise.”

“A keeper one, that is!” the female coworker beside the man heckled, making him grunt in agreement.

“Yeah!” A man in a coat chimed in from the stool. “Don’t let anyone else get near him.”

“The guy’s already a tough fighter.”

“I’m sure he can be a fine lover too!”

“Guys!” Nakyoung laughed along with the growing conversation, but she still failed to contain everyone’s intriguing gossip from reaching Junghoon’s ears. Not even the oil could deafen it. “It’s great that y’all are constantly praising my friend, but you might make him uncomfortable if he hears you gossiping about him.”

“Back in my day, most of us women just made our move and married off ourselves to soldiers like him, that is if they didn’t make the move first.” An elderly woman added, making Junghoon let out a chuckle from the kitchen the second Nakyoung entered to serve the latest batch of sausage on a platter. “Don’t take them too seriously,” she told him while passing by, but he didn’t know she’s also telling it to herself subconsciously. Meanwhile, Junghoon himself stole a few glances at Nakyoung’s bartending expertise.

“That’s too crass, ahjumma…” Another man in a suit, in his early thirties, countered the old woman, despite essentially sharing the same sentiment. “These youngins gotta take things slow. Know each other better!”

“Hmm…” The elder one shrugged it off and kept her gaze focused on the young woman. “I was just saying, dear. You wouldn’t want to lose someone like him in your life.”

“Well, I do think he’s not going anywhere, and that’s because he’s a great friend.”

“Whatever you say. I just hope you don’t regret it if you lose him to someone else.”

Considering the bar was of the traditional type, the place had to close down not long after midnight. That doesn’t mean they were completely off the building by the time. After Junghoon paid his tab, everyone else had left except for him and Nakyoung. They shared their final drinks of the night after washing the kitchen equipment. However, most of the side dishes he cooked for the customers had no leftovers after they left with full stomachs, and Nakyoung was no different. Her appetite had astonished Junghoon. The woman was now reclining on her chair, like a cat stretching and, strangely, purring after consuming most of the leftovers. Her midnight munching was further amplified with a couple glasses of somaek with him, something that Junghoon finally took the opportunity of pouring her glass to fulfill as her hoobae.

“Daebak… I still can’t believe how good you eat. Like that’s one and a half serving.”

“Hmph,” she pouted. “You got a problem with people liking your food?”

“It’s not that… I’m just saying you’re just not much of a picky eater, which is admirable, but I’m also wondering if you had dinner earlier today.”

“Oh, I ate a whole bibimbap bowl outside before my shift… No need to worry about it. I’m still on a diet these days.”

“Ah, that makes sense.” That’s just how she ate. Unashamed and passionate like it was a form of art. At least, that’s how he described it from his eyes and tipsy mind. The woman simply eats well as she drinks, and it was another feat that made him admire her.

“Compared to you cooking up multiple units at your camp, it must be a relief that you only cooked for less than a dozen customers tonight. Still, you didn’t have to feed our customers tonight… There are still food stalls and pochas right outside for a reason.”

“I know, but I also don’t mind.” He shrugged off her concern. “I’m just glad I was able to feed some empty stomachs. Call me a suck-up if you want, I just gave everyone free food just tonight… Well, except for the ones who paid, but most of them got a meal for free.”

“I think it’s very thoughtful,” she cooed, lightly patting her knuckle on his shoulder. “And it’ll probably level up everyone’s expectations once they come back tomorrow.”

“Nothing wrong with cooking something simple, so don’t be too pressured about it.”

“Hmm… I’m not pressured about it myself,” she admitted, emanating content and appreciation by his presence and efforts to help out tonight, even if it’s going to be a one-time thing. “But my cousins probably will be once they find out during their shift.”

“They’ll be fine,” he reassured her, crossing his arms. “Stir-fried food isn’t meant to be too hard… You got all the basic stuff here, so that should be a start. You can boil some pork for bossam or cook up a basic jjigae for another upgrade.”

Her lips made a “Pfft…” But she was impressed by his skills. “Easy for you to say, Chef.”

Junghoon fixed his hair, even though it was still faded, to make himself look confident. “I can teach you sometimes.”

She examined his facial features. “Is that what makes you a winner in women’s eyes?”

The shift in her discussion made him bobble his head sideways, but he tried his best to go along since it was a fascinating subject. “In what way?” Her eyes locked into his lips. She didn’t drink as much after her shift, but she’s still lost her own thoughts about him.

“You show folks your skills. You fight, you cook, and you respect and try to understand someone… Like, how can anyone not stick to you?” she whined like she was hyping him up and spewing her disappointment at him at the same time. “Are you that dense, Geum Junghoon? Or is everyone else?”

Her bluntness was making him shiver throughout his spine, but he kept his shoulders straight while her fingers trailed on his arms. “Maybe I am that dense. I’m not the best at noticing those certain things, but I appreciate it when someone brings them up.” He had one past relationship and another encounter, but those were it. “I may know some stuff, in general… But I think I still need to learn a few more things about women.”

The woman realized Junghoon was neither a bad boy nor was he a pushover, like he was another type of guy that she rarely encountered. Following her own impulse, Nakyoung leaned closer, crashing her lips into Junghoon’s. His eyes widened for two seconds, but her lips, her scent and touch were tantalizing, he closed them to indulge in the pleasure he was getting from this moment, sharing it with her. Her lips and saliva tasted better than the better she served him hours earlier, even though he was also tasting it now.

“Maybe it’s my turn to teach you a few things tonight,” she mumbled boldly to him.

Aside from her new look, Nakyoung’s naughtiness paralyzed Junghoon at this moment, despite his body already reciprocating her lustful yearning for him through the burning sensation within him. “Are you sure?” he asked, keeping his index finger under her chin and his thumb under her lower lip, tempted to go for another despite his logical doubts.

She caressed his cheek, warming him up more, but she knew she had limits. They might have shown their actions, but their words have yet to seal the deal. “Mmm-hmm… I am. If you are, too.”

Closing his eyes at the same second, Junghoon solidified his reciprocation by kissing her the second time with abandon. Within seconds, his tongue dilly-dallied on her lips, until she opened for his entry. While their lips were smacking and tongues were dancing with graceful rhythm, Nakyoung was the first one to submit to their libidinal inquisitiveness by sliding her hand on his chest down to his abdomen, following her hunch for his six pack, as she discovered it. Sensing Junghoon’s shivers through the vibrations of their lips, Nakyoung broke their kiss and giggled while catching her breath. “Mianhae,” she muttered. If the exchange of their saliva wasn’t enough, their breaths were also fuel for their lust for each other the longer their foreheads rested on each other in this armistice.

He began to pepper kisses on the woman’s neck, inciting a yelp from her. “Don’t be…” She muffled her moans, prolonging and deepening them in the process, while still fully cognizant of where they were. Even if they’re inside the staff-only room. “Go ahead,” he encouraged, making her move her fingers on his abdomen once again. Junghoon started leaving hickeys through the sounds of his lips, making Nakyoung bite her lip at the same second she began inspecting and trailing her hands on his stomach like it was a precious jewelry that she was willing to own for herself until she leaned her lips on his once more.

“I guess there is one thing I have yet to eat tonight,” she purred, gripping onto his bulge, already rock hard for her touch. Even until this point, her wit would’ve made him laugh, but he could only groan at how she was able to take control of his body with her smooth movement. He didn’t doubt her being an expert, hence he let her kneel down in front of him, while she unzipped his pants. “Seolma… I never expected it to be this big…” For a simple test, Nakyoung gave his junior a few kisses, starting down his testicles up to his tip, slowly hearing the reaction she had hoped from him: giggles in-between groans as he arched his neck backwards and back leaning on the chair like a king being pleasured.

Finding his ‘pleasure receptors’ to be perfectly “functioning,” she shook her head with a snicker and licked her lips sideways, cracking her neck joints and maintaining her focus on the tip of his hard standing manhood. She let out a purr and made sure that he could face her the second she gave him a wink, playfully telling him, “Jal meokgesseumnida.”

An enlivened Junghoon heaved with laughter, but his amusement was cut short right as she opened her mouth as wide as she could. The man held in his anticipation while she took him in, slowly and surely. Feeling his tip reach her throat within seven seconds, Nakyoung started to bob her head on his manhood, moving up and down while her fingers massaged his balls at the same time, slowly being lubricated by the saliva drooling out of her mouth. “That’s really, ugh, good, Naky… Fuck, augh—” The moans leaving Junghoon’s made him clench his teeth, only to loosen up as seconds pass the more surges of pleasure spread throughout his nether regions,going up to his spine. This was merely a blowjob, and yet Nakyoung’s prowess was already making him lightheaded in the best feeling imaginable. Maybe it’s simply the fact that he hasn’t felt a woman’s touch for a long time or that the alcohol was slowly taking its effect, but this paralysis of pleasure was reaching its peak within several minutes of their slurping and moaning, making him feel like his shaft was being sucked on by a hot and wet vacuum cleaner.

The same build up in his body was slowly accumulating from his balls up to his member. Junghoon couldn’t help but hold his right palm on her head, with his left arm anchoring and wrapping on the chair’s head as his legs were stretching between Nakyoung, his toes wrangling inside his shoes while delaying his climax with all willpower, only for a quick perception to remind him not to fight against his primal feelings, and more importantly, against the exemplary service she was providing him now. If he wanted this tonight to become more, for him to pleasure her, he had to give in to the power of her masterful mouth. And so, Junghoon felt his climax reaching its finish line, he gave three thrusts that made Nakyoung moan in surprise and intrigue. She was about to receive his warm and thick seed, and her impatience only accelerated her bobbing until his fingers began to claw into her hair as Junghoon’s final thrusts finally triggered an eruption inside her piehole, going straight into Nakyoung’s tongue and flooding down her throat. This was one trigger he had yet to have full discipline over.

Despite having done the least movement between them, Junghoon was also almost out of breath, but gratified by her valiant effort nonetheless, especially when she swallowed  his seed with a long and loud gulp. “Miss Kim, you are wild.” He fixed her hair while she inched closer to his right knee, humming with satisfaction at her final feast of the night.

Resting her head on his thigh while he gently caressed her, Nakyoung kept some of her seductive spirit alive through her voice to tease him. “You don’t know half of it.”

He wanted to lean down and kiss her as a form of reward or simply gratitude, but they heard three knocks on the entrance doors. It was locked, but the loud voice of a woman that followed only made Nakyoung stand up and wipe her mouth with a paper towel on the dining table, making Junghoon follow her pace as he pulled up his undies and pants and kept himself watchful at the entrance as Nakyoung unlocked the staff door to holler out “Jamsimanyo!” with a polite yet compelling tone.

“Who’s that?” Junghoon whispered. “Did your bouncer friend forget something here?”

“Aniya.” She noticed him slightly shivering. “It’s just a patrol officer. They often visit at this hour. You stay here for a bit…” She gave his shoulder a light pat. “Relax…”

“Oh…” He gave himself a deep breath and straightened his posture. “Okay, sure.”

“And, umm, I still have to close this place,” she added, informing him with a coy tone. “But… If you don’t mind waiting, my apartment isn’t too far away from here.” Slowly, she pursed her lips, but her smile was already noticeable from his view. He’s not the only one feeling lucky tonight.

Rather than staying still inside the kitchen as told, he began organizing the equipment he used back to their proper storage. “No need to rush… You can talk to the officer. I’ll help clean up the kitchen.” There was nothing to be ashamed of having some little fun.

After apologizing to the patrol officer and letting her inspect the area, she even saluted Junghoon after finding out his status, the pair spent five more minutes closing the bar. As Nakyoung told him, it took the three blocks of playfully chasing and following each other’s path on the pavement before they finally reached Naky’s apartment. While still latching onto his moist lips, Nakyoung allowed Junghoon’s hand to drop his bag on the floor next to the couch, giving him more access to her naughty mouth for another round.

Parting herself from his clutches, Nakyoung gave the signal to undress their own clothes in front of each other with an excited grin, as Junghoon understood they were mentally competing against each other on who gets to strip down and jump on the other first. It was Junghoon who deliberately slowed himself down, stripping to his underwear after Nakyoung had tossed away her shirt and pants on the floor, stunning the man with her curvaceous body, still covered by her black bra and panties when she galloped towards him. Junghoon braced himself as she hurled herself like a projectile, lips first colliding with his. On this cold, winter night, the pair only have each other’s warmth to provide. The woman wrapped her legs around his waist with her arms around his neck, helping him carry her body as their mingling bodies guided them all the way to the open door of her bedroom. She gave him a little push so he could land themselves on her bouncy bed. 

Falling on his back on the mattress, Nakyoung did not hold back, keeping her lips locked and tangled with Junghoon, whom she had pinned down. She’s a ferocious big cat, and the man’s her meaty prey. Her hunger began on mainly his lips, now spreading down to his cheek, neck, and clavicle through her licks and kisses, which Junghoon had also been craving to taste from her once the tables had turned, if they even would turn, tonight.

“You know,” he mumbled. “You can’t… be the only one… who has gotten a taste…”

“So,” she exhaled with anticipation, keeping herself composed. “What do you propose?”

Before he could think, this position had already given him the answer. “Sit on my face.”

Astonished by his boldness, Nakyoung took her panties off right top of him, blindly throwing it behind with her gaze focused on him. Junghoon could only hum with arousal while she inched herself closer and closed the gap of her thighs between his head, giving his mouth the perfect angle of aligning with her already wet cunt. She held both hands onto the headboard, slightly bending her upper body forward for a better reach, while Junghoon gripped her legs like rollercoaster restraints. Nevertheless, he still had to begin, once she leaned down and whispered, “Ready when you are.”

Inching his head until his mouth made contact with her vulva, Junghoon began planting a few kisses. Giggles and hisses left the woman’s mouth, realizing she’s reacting just like him when she sucked him off. In her case, however, her folds have begun receiving the slithering movement of his tongue, prompting her to tighten her grip on the headboard while relishing on it moving from down to upwards. Junghoon was now getting his first taste of her nectars. Without completely giving all the weight of her bottom on his chest, Nakyoung slowly rocked herself back and forth, grinding on his moving mouth like she’s also imagining it being on his cock. “Good… boy,” she moaned, unbeknownst to her that her own soft encouragement and movement, complemented by the scent of her cunt and bottom, has once again made Junghoon’s cock rock harder.

And yet, he didn’t want her to turn around, as much as the idea intrigued him. This round was meant all for her, as she had pleased him earlier. While almost restrained, this position didn’t stop him from massaging her buttcheeks with both hands and fingers inches apart from each other, kneading them like dough. Nakyoung bent her back a little further with her moans growing louder, now salivating as two major stimulations were slowly taking over her body the longer she kept grinding on his face at a faster pace.

Junghoon started breathing through his nostrils, taking in her intoxicating scent before widening the gap of his mouth between her folds, giving his tongue a chance to reach up to her clit, amplifying her yelps, increasing the ammunition of her one-word praises and muffled curses the longer pleasure was building up within her, under the sound of his consistent slurps. While her head was facing above, Nakyoung’s eyes started rolling to the back of her head, letting herself wail with delight by opening her mouth and sticking her tongue out. She couldn’t hold herself any longer, feeling the pressure breaking free.

“Baby, fuuuck!” The woman grinded three more times before coming to a full stop and shivering once she released a stimulating cry into the ceiling until her voice gave out in pure libidinal bliss. Her juices finally left her nethers, squirting and spilling down on the man’s face like a broken dam, from his mouth to the bridge of his nose. As her legs still shivered, her ecstatic ascension to paradise only lasted about three to four seconds, but it quickly dwindled down while she caught her breath, resting her forehead close to the headboard. They would have to take things to the next level for it to be much longer.

Nakyoung got herself off his face, her remaining essence dripping on the mattress as she landed next to him, her crotch still leveling with his head. But upon finding Junghoon’s face splattered with her juices, she immediately got up from the bed and reached for a couple sheets of napkin on the desk next to the door, wiping the puddle of fluid off of Junghoon’s face, to his appreciation while they’re both sitting down on the bed.

Nakyoung whispered her compliments to him, questioning his experience right until she eventually spotted his standing cock, still hindered by the fabric of his blue underwear. “You were hard all this time?” she questioned him, her pitch slowly raising. The belated realization made her sigh. “Man, I should’ve faced the other way around.” She gave him a peck on his cheek. A gesture she made from her own subconscious. “Mianhae.”

“Gwenchanayo,” he assured, slowly holding her hands and leaning in to savor her lips, something she also couldn’t get enough of. Their bodies rolled until Junghoon was now on top of Nakyoung, keeping his weight from completely falling on her body with his hands. Their chests hugged tightly, him feeling her breasts. This tempting sensation sparked a sense of intrusive regret in his mind, mirroring Nakyoung’s a few seconds earlier. He probably should have been on the bottom earlier. Still, the woman had her hand holding onto his crotch again as if it was going to fall, but she was simply getting impatient. Junghoon signaled her help in taking off his undies, which she dropped to her right, falling on the carpet next to the bed. “You got condoms?” he quickly asked.

“I got some. Inside the night stand,” she pointed to her right. Junghoon quickly got off their intimate position and inched closer with his knees to open up the drawer, finding one pack of condom packets. “You’ve been this intimate with other men?” he wondered while putting it on. Not judgmental, but rather curious due to his own adrenaline rush.

“Not just men,” she admitted with a smug smirk, something that only made him chuckle and inch closer to her lips, which she hungrily welcomed as she placed her hand on the top of his head, clenching onto his head. During this makeout session, the tip of his cock kept colliding with her still wet vulva, inciting scatters of moans and chuckles from each other’s mouths while their tongues clashed, tasting traces of their own meals and drinks, from the spices-filled savoriness of the stir-fried pork to the bitter and sweet beer & soju.

Even with her eyes closed, Nakyoung took the chance to unlock her bra, although not from the back, a special sight that left Junghoon speechless when he opened his eyes and extended his arms to look at her. “Holy…” he wheezed in disbelief at the size of her breasts. It might not be the largest pair he has seen from any woman, but the chance of being able to touch one of the largest ones was further fueling his curiosity about her.

“Eat up,” she encouraged him, resting her arms on the bed. With a breathy smile, Junghoon dug his face between her breasts with his lust-fueled mouth deploying his tongue to taste the woman's smooth and salty skin. He inched closer to her left nipple, giving her areola soft kiss while his left hand gently grasped onto her right mound. He noticed the mark of what appeared to be small wounds on her nipples. “Does it hurt?” he had to ask, despite his concerns contrasting the hollers of pleasure from her mouth.

“Not… aaugghhh… Not at all. Please keep going,” she kept twitching and groaning at his lips now focusing on her right tit. Moreover, she already saw him taking a slight pause. “I guess, umm, you, uh, noticed them, right? It’s where the piercings were.”

“Yeah…” he chuckled, continuing his massages and peppers of kisses on both breasts while she squirmed. “It would’ve been… pretty cool to see them… To be honest.”

“Stop… it,” she shook her head, having failed to predict his remark, but still enthralled by his faultless performance so far. “Fuck, you’re, uhh, good… Auuggghhh!”

“I’m serious,” he doubled down before leaning his lips to give her left tit a brief suck, making her yelp and chuckle. “It’s cool, but, umm, it must’ve hurt putting them on.”

“A little bit,” she confessed, showing a small gap between her index finger and thumb. “But it’s worth it…” She felt comfortable telling it to him. “I’m a curious girl, you know?”

“I can tell.” They both laughed at his banter, right as the magnets on their lips activated.

“Okay, that’s enough,” she patted his thigh and inches closer to his left ear. “I need you inside me.” That moment shut his eyes, as another wave of shivers went down his spine. He gave her two quick kisses on her lips and chin before his fingers went down her cunt, making her let out stimulated moans that have now become a delightful tune to his ears.

“Wait…” she stopped him, and herself from reacting. “Not there. Not yet.” He surmised she was still “recuperating” from the face-sitting earlier. Even a teasing touch from his three fingers felt sensitive for her. He instantly understood that she needed more time, but her hands would redirect his fingers to another hole. His eyes only widened. Her asshole? “We can do something else, if you want,” she advised him with a soothing tone, sensing the uncertainty on his face. “I just need to give my other hole a little break.”

“It’s just…” He paused for a second, but he realized that by the end of the night, they’re still friends. “I haven’t done this before... But I want to do it, Naky-yah.” There was no point in hiding it. Just because he was hesitant, that did not mean he was against it.

However, she let out a giggle, not of mockery, but appreciation for his honesty. “I’m glad, Junghoon-ah.” She caressed his left cheek. “I’ll guide you from behind… Okay?” Junghoon took a few inches backwards before Nakyoung bent down on her knees and held her hands on the headboard once again, wiggling her butt to entice him further, as if the combination of her butt, legs, and her wide grin wasn’t enough to make him drool.

After taking a deep breath, he inched himself and slowly pushed his cock inside her hole, expecting Nakyoung’s groans to continue in a louder volume while he kept pushing. “Jebal, just keep… goiiiiiiingghh!” she begged at the same time the man was feeling half of his member inside her tunnel as it tightened around him with every breath she took. Nakyoung was already shivering out of both tension and stimulation, but there was no pain throughout what she was feeling.

He knew it wasn’t the first time for her, but that also made him extra cautious, as he and his cock were curious. Little was he aware, not only has Nakyoung’s intrusive side been craving for someone to enter her asshole since the last time she experienced it, but she had also been training herself for a night she never expected would come sooner. With her brief and concise instructions, Junghoon aligned his throbbing, still wet member with Nakyoung’s hole and inched himself closing their distance seconds. The simple feeling of getting poked by his tip made her bite her lower lip to muffle her noises, before encouraging him to keep going inside. Junghoon reached his right hand, which Nakyoung took by instinct, intertwining their fingers.

As he felt the end of his shaft next to her stretched slit, both parties reached a standstill, giving them a moment to brace themselves for the next step. Junghoon slowly flexed his muscles, including his erect cock, and began to thrust his hips inside her clenching hole. Similar to how he would do it inside someone’s vagina, he gradually quickened his pace and rhythm inside this tighter hole. Digging her face on the mattress, Nakyoung slowly clenched all her fingers, both around Junghoon’s and the headboard, going along with the impact of his continual thrusts, allowing her wails of ecstasy to muffle through the bed until her throat tired out. Junghoon grunted through the rhythm of his hips, feeling his rubber-clothed manhood move inside her back and forth, slowly sensing the same stimulating build-up inside him when she was sucking him off within several minutes.

The lingering discomfort he had from the mere idea of anal sex from earlier has now converted into pleasure. She turned her head to the right with her tongue sticking out, undoubtedly inviting Junghoon to stretch his neck and devour her mouth with his own. Their lips and tongues clashed while their nethers kept grinding against each other, and combined with Nakyoung placing Junghoon’s hand under her right breast, their layers of stimulation arose from minutes to seconds. The woman could hear herself squirting down her cunt, prompting her to part her lips from him to catch her breath and let her moans reach her partner’s ear louder and clearer. Such sounds were enough to give him the final thrusts until the accumulation of his semen had swum up and pushed to his tip, finally climaxing inside the condom with one heavy howl on the top of his lungs.

Nakyoung wiggled a few inches away from the headboard and finally lied down on the bed completely. After pulling it as slow as he could, Junghoon adjusted to his left before he landed on the bed. Still, the former didn’t let her hand go off him, yearning to feel his chest respire on top of her back. Much to his surprise, he wasn’t as heavy as he thought. He felt at ease resting next to her, sweat and all. As they both calmed down, Nakyoung slowly turned around to face Junghoon, just so she could retain some familiarity to his lips. She broke their kiss almost thirty seconds later, the man’s forehead resting on hers. “You mind if… we wash ourselves… A little bit first?”

“Of course…” He backed off, inching away from her to sit on the bed. “Take your time.”

“You can head in first, if you want,” she suggested. “You really don’t need to take long.”

Both had the thought of inviting each other inside the shower, but the bed was their own ideal battleground for tonight. They’ve sat and stood long enough at the bar for them not to relish in the comfort and easiness of Nakyoung’s bed, where they could let all loose all night long, as long as their breaths and bodies willed it. As soon as the woman exited the bathroom, she walked straight to her room to find Junghoon waiting for her with a soft smile. No phone in his hand or anything, just curious about her bedroom, although his clothes and bag were in the living room. Somewhat touched by his patience, Nakyoung wrapped her arms around him in an appreciative embrace, closing her eyes while he snuggled on her chest without any words from either of their mouths. But this wasn’t a romantic date. Their touch slowly burned back into a tension, one that pulled their lips back to each other in no time. A moment that made his flaccid cock harder in seconds.

Pulling her into the bed so she could lie on her back, Junghoon broke their kiss and was about to reach into the nightstand, but Nakyoung gently held his wrist. “No need… I’m on the pill,” she clarified. A clueless Junghoon only nodded with a slight snicker. He realized that it seemed like he was already lucky from the beginning. “It’s time, Junghoon-ah…” She gave him a quick tease, spreading her legs and folds apart with her fingers while sticking her tongue out for him to see. “I bet you’re familiar with this one.”

He snortled with closed lips. She wasn’t wasting time. “Let’s see if I still got it.” And neither should he. Now having more familiarity with this kind of situation, Junghoon crawled closer to Nakyoung to close their distance until his tip had met the hole he had been hoping to enter all night from the second they entered this apartment. While he was slow with his approach, his entry through his pussy was far smoother and stickier compared to her asshole. It gave him the lube to keep going, despite his girth needing a thrust to go further.

Nakyoung could only muffle herself with the back of her left hand, unable to repress her moans, as in the field of sex, they were as essential as breathing. A reaction to the stimulating object entering and stretching her insides the longer he took, she instinctively wrapped her legs around him like a boa constrictor. Like earlier, a brief standstill occurred once his tip had reached its limit, and it gave Junghoon the trigger to take a breath and start thrusting inside her with his renewed stamina.

The stronger she bounced and moaned with abandon, Nakyoung raised her voice, yet retained her shameless tone just so she could ask him. “Have I… Been… a good girl?” Although her voice was already alluring to Junghoon’s ears, she placed her palm on his left butt cheeks, giving him a tight yet stimulating squeeze that made him moan loudly.

“Aniya,” he retaliated, deepening his voice with a grunt while accelerating his assertive hips against her. “You’re, unhn, fucking, hnnnngghhh, a bad girl… Kim Nakyoung.” He gave the side of her right hip one quick slap, hoping it would reach her ass cheek as well. The bbubb—baddest!” Missionary might’ve been his default position, but doing it with a feisty and more experienced woman like Nakyoung made his heart race faster than ever. The flexibility in her legs and the endurance of her body gave him some upgrades he never knew was possible.

She looked to the ceiling from feeling an electrifying surge coming from her bottom, giving Junghoon another opportunity to lean down and not just kiss, but lick the sweat off her neck while she processed his playful words and enthusiastic slap. “That’s, ungh, right… I am! Nggghh… So bad.” She was feeling lightheaded as her vigor was running thin. “And you’re so…gooood!” Thankfully for him, Junghoon was catching up to her.

Halfway through their climax, Nakyoung muffled her moans into determined grunts. She was itching to switch things up, so mustered some of her strength and suggested something to Junghoon. He listened with his body, efficiently helping Nakyoung rise without pulling out of her as if they were stuntmen. Their position has been changed, with both people leveling each other while still keeping up with their grinds against each other’s groins. Wrapping her arms around him, Nakyoung’s more balanced and graceful grindings complementing the rawer and forceful thrusts of Junghoon has become this pair’s perfect combination in order to quicken their mutual objective. The joint pace and rhythm of their bodies has reached harmonious synchrony, creating miniature chaos to their surroundings as the bed squeaked louder. Thankfully, it could handle worse.

“You’re actually a good—” As his legs began to tire out, he struggled to complete his final word. “Girl! Mgh!” His tone lightened up the more pressure had gathered in his genitals. This position had also given him the chance to taste her juicy lips, rewarding her for making his night while making sure that his thrusts make her bounce with delight.

“Ne!” Nakyoung cheered, unabashed with her sudden tone of submission towards him. While still bouncing on him, she leaned a little backwards, placed her left hand on her left tit and showed them to Junghoon, and through his primal urges, he sucked on it without hesitation, making Nakyoung dig her chin on his left shoulder while letting herself loose through crazed whimpers and unintelligible high praises. Not long after, the growing intensity of his pounding made her dig her nails down his skin.

Junghoon had only felt a miniscule of pain from her nails, as the dominant pleasure drove him to such as much as he could, until the build-up in his shaft made him stop. “You’re, nnngggh, breath…taking…” he added, rasping more through his movement.

At this point, the continuous thrusting of his cock and bouncing has already reached multiple sensitive spots inside Nakyoung’s cunt, from her opening all the way through her cervix, which his tip kept on bumping. “Soo… Are… Yooaaaaugghhh! Junghoon-ah,” she started begging. “Imma—Fuck me… I’m cloooooose!” Despite her lust fueling her to keep going, her mind knew it was getting too much for her body to handle. With the last ounce of strength in her throat, she pleaded for Junghoon to do it inside. Luckily for her, the man was also close. His thrusts slowed down so he could put his hand on her chin to give her a soft kiss. Nakyoung closed her eyes and invaded his mouth with her tongue, focusing on the sense of comfort he provided her as they reached their final stop.

Three more slow yet firm thrusts from him, and the woman let her juices break free with her orgasm. Junghoon came a split second after her, bursting his cum inside her womb. In this standstill, both partners kept each other tight and warm with their arms around each other. Their heads rested on each other’s, sharing each other’s breath and admiring each other’s beauty in the afterglow of their battle. Nakyoung gave him one more kiss to seal their success for the night. Unbeknownst to Junghoon, that was her way of saying thank you. “Still got it, I guess,” he surmised right as he pulled out of her, leaving the remainder of his seed dripping on the cover.

Still catching her breath with him, Nakyoung exhaled a louder laugh at his realization. They still got a few more juices left in them, but a couple more rounds after that, they could only listen to their bodies’ pleas to settle down and lie still in silence, huddling against each other and dozing off until the night skies would brighten up into dawn.

= = =

It was six o’clock in the morning. He didn’t need to hear it, but the sound of the wake-up calls of their commander still echoed through his brain, as it has in the last four hundred days. He still had a lot more days to go, but today’s silence was such a whiplash for him.

Nakyoung stopped snoring, finding his neck hovering off his pillow. “You’re not at your base, dude,” she mumbled, caressing his chest. “Relax…”

“I figured,” he chuckled with relief, inching himself backwards so he could recline on the headboard. Carefully, he took the rheum off of his eyes with his left hand, wiping it on himself. “I, uh, just haven’t gotten used to it.”

“Yeah, well… Now that your panic’s out of the way, you wanna stay for a bit?”

A sense of hesitation made Junghoon blink a few times, considering if there was something more from their wild and passionate night. “Hmm…”

“You know, this doesn’t have to get complicated, Junghoon-ah…” But she sensed it from his expression. “We just had a lot of fun last night.” It’s not the first time she’s seen that from someone, but Junghoon’s a dear friend. She was not letting that go when they still had something important to treasure beyond the ‘carnal element,’ something they only discovered last night. “And you’re a dear friend to me.”

He rested his head back on the pillow. “Yeah, I couldn’t agree more… It was great.”

“Which one?” She always has a habit of making sure she doesn’t fool herself. And him.

However, he understood her sound explanation quite well. “You as a friend… And the sex.” He wanted to thank her directly, but perhaps this should suffice.

“Mmm-hmm,” she giggled. She wiggled closer to his head, retaining her closed smile. “I know it’s still super early, but do you want to have ramyeon for breakfast?”

His eyebrow raised at her phrasing. “Is that meant to be a euphemism or..?”

“That’s up to you to decide…” Nakyoung straddled him, making him hold onto her hips. Their faces were once again only inches apart. Their noses clashing as their lips waited. “We don’t have all day,” she insinuated, before closing her eyes as they kissed sweetly, indifferent to the morning breath in favor of their remaining lust for each other.

The whole night and throughout this morning, he has almost forgotten he was at his base. Jogging. Marching. Firing. Tackling. Being tackled. Cooking. Washing. Sleeping. Tolerating loud noises. Reading. Contemplating. He had also been doing most of those routines outside his service. With this being one of the exceptions, he took advantage of hanging out with his friends as much as he could, and meeting new ones when he could. The year had only begun.

After washing up and leaving Nakyoung’s place more than an hour after breakfast, Junghoon packed up and took another bus to his neighborhood. On his ride home, he received a couple of texts from the only person who was aware of his punctual arrival.

[Naky-sunbae]: Junghoon-ah! Hope you got home safely. Thanks for helping out at the bar. I owe you one. And you know… After that, ㅎㅎㅎ Don't hesitate to visit again after your discharge. Drinks will be on the house! Till next time, Sergeant! Hwaiting! 𖹭 ≽ - ˕ •マゞ

Junghoon only let out a chortle. He knew that Nakyoung didn’t even owe him or had to owe him anything, but the simple profession of thanks from her warmed his heart. He typed his replies not long before he arrived at the stop.

Walking silently to his old neighborhood, the faces and voices of his familiar neighbors quietly cheered on and welcomed his arrival as he walked past the nearby markets, corner stores, and residences. It was still early in the morning, after all.

“Oppa!” Of course, one face among them was more familial to him as it was familiar, and her voice was the loudest of them all.

“Soomin-ah…” Junghoon’s little cousin waited from the gate of his home for the longest time. Their late grandmother’s and his late parents’ boarding house. Walking to her, he accepted her warm hug. “You’re here early… Imo and sachon aren’t even here yet.”

“Legally, it’s still our boarding house,” she shot back while their embrace broke off. “I can just go here even without my parents, you know?”

“Next year, it won’t be,” he reminded her. “That’s why your parents got you a dorm.”

She pouted, extending her arms wide. “It’s not as cozy as the house. Not as spacious!”

A little overreaction, but he knew he couldn’t relate. “You slept here for like, one night.”

“Twelve nights,” she corrected, including the times she slept over after her first visit. When he was at the military camp. “I’ll probably treat it as a guest house, you know?”

“Do what you want,” Junghoon chortled as they walked through the house gate. “Anyways, how’s college so far?”

From that moment, it wasn’t easy for the young man to stop spilling her words to him. Nevertheless, there wasn’t an ounce of irritation or annoyance in his emotions. Not in this mood, anyways. He couldn’t be any happier to be back, even for a short while.

In the following days, momentous news was announced to their unit. They were going to be transferred back to Seoul State University, finally authorized by their institution and their camp’s highest commanders for their students to complete the remainder of their service on campus for the next six months, or less depending on how long they finish. Junghoon had already finished by then, graduating college by June.

After that morning, Junghoon and Nakyoung saw and went out with different people during their phases of exploration. And yet, their friendship persevered and solidified over time. It was a friendship that might come off as scandalous to most who became aware, but it was productive and pragmatic. Free of strings, at least when they were free of any committed and romantic relationships. It was something that both of them could benefit from one another, behind the sheets, or anywhere else they met. When times got tougher, it would only take them a text or call away from loosening themselves up.

= = =

There's no doubt that I may have gotten inaccuracies with the whole mandatory service system thing. I did my best to research it along with some creative liberties, since you know, it's still fiction (au).

If you may find a lot of stuff here familiar, I'll clarify that this takes place after Our Story, Like a Romance Novel Ch. 6 and before the events of A Cold Summer Fling, except for the short epilogue. Like the latter story, I intended this to be readable and understood as a standalone one-shot, but they're still connected because same universe and all that shenanigans.

There, in the middle of your room, was Nien — your roommate, your self-proclaimed coach, and the last person you want to see before 9 a.m. She was in a cropped hoodie and shorts, hair tied into a messy ponytail, cheeks slightly flushed as she warmed up… using two water jugs like makeshift dumbbells.

Even worse, she was smiling too. Bright. Cheerful. As if this was the most natural thing to be doing at the crack of dawn.

You lazily checked your phone. 7:03 a.m.

“I hate you,” you mumbled into your pillow and covered your head with the blanket. "I stayed up late last night, damn it…piss off, Nien…"

“Good morning to you too!” she chirped without missing a beat, clearly ignoring your groaning . Her voice was way too chipper for someone who had no business being awake this early.

You peeked out from under the blanket, squinting at her. “Why are you like this?”

“Like what?” She looked over her shoulder, cheeks flushed from exertion, that innocent smile of hers glowing like morning sunlight. “Disciplined?”

“Insane,” you corrected. "It's the weekend. Let me sleep, you jolly bean…"

She laughed, setting the jugs down with a soft clunk. “Come onnnn, you promised we’d go to the gym together today.”

You groaned louder, flipping onto your back. “No, you said, ‘Let’s go to the gym,’ and I said, ‘We’ll see.’ That’s not a promise, that’s just me thinking.”

Nien padded over, each step light and springy, the floor creaking softly under her socks. She crouched beside your bed, her expression hovering between amusement and mischief. “You’ve been saying ‘we’ll see’ since last month.”

“That’s called consistency,” you said, eyes still closed.

“Then consistently get up,” she countered.

You reached for the blanket again. “Not happening. Not today.”

A moment of silence. Then, her voice. Softer. Playful. “Come on. You said I could drag you out of bed if you bailed again.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t think you’d actually do it,” you mumbled. “You’re too nice for that.”

Well. A soft whoosh, and then, betrayal. Your blanket was yanked off in one swift, merciless motion. The rush of cold morning air hit your skin like punishment. “Nien!” you shouted, curling up instantly.

She was laughing now, that innocent, bell-like laugh that made you want to simultaneously smile and file a noise complaint. “Get up, grumpy. We’ll miss the good treadmills.”

“You think I care about good treadmills?” you said, glaring at her. “The only treadmill I care about is the one that treads me back to sleep.”

“Wow.” She nodded seriously. “That’s a terrible line. You’re definitely awake now.”

You sighed dramatically and sat up, hair a mess, face still half-buried in your hand. “Tell me why the hell did I choose to live with you?”

“Because I do your laundry when you forget,” she said immediately, standing up straight and crossing her arms like she’d been waiting for that line.

“Once,” you muttered. “You did it once and haven’t stopped mentioning it.”

“It’s a good deed, I deserve credit.”

You squinted at her. “You mixed my white shirts with your pink hoodie.”

“Now they’re matching!” she said proudly. Completely unbothered.

You couldn’t help the small laugh that slipped out. “You’re so annoying.”

“Annoyingly cute?”

You stared at her blankly. “…annoying, period.”

She gasped dramatically, clutching her chest. “Wow. You’ve changed.”

“Yeah,” you said, dragging yourself out of bed, “I’ve changed into someone who wants to move out.”

“You say that every week,” she teased, already grabbing her gym bag. “And yet, here you are — my favourite roomie.”

“Only because the landlord won’t let me kick you.”

She grinned, leaning against the wall. “You like living with me.”

You looked up at her, the morning light from the window catching on her pink hair, her eyes dancing with mischief, her entire being radiating that unfair combination of wild and warmth, and sighed. “Sure, you can think of it that way.”

She chuckled, tossing you a water bottle. “Come on, tragic boy. Five minutes to get ready.”

“Or what?”

“Or I’ll carry you out in your pajamas. Bridal style.”

You blinked, half-daring her. “Don't you dare, muscle freak.” But to be fair, it does sound good in your head.

Her lips twitched. “Try me.”

You stared at her for a moment. The slight smirk tugging at her mouth, the way her stance screamed “I absolutely would”. Didn’t think this girl would make you rub your temples this early in the morning. “You’re not human.”

“Thank you,” she said brightly, as if you just complimented her. And by the time you stumbled into the bathroom to change, she was humming to herself and tying her sneakers by the door.

Somewhere between brushing your teeth and pulling your hoodie over your head, you realized that, for someone who claimed to hate mornings (disheveled, half-awake, annoyed), you couldn’t stop the smile on your face.

And that was the most annoying part of all.

-

7:30am, and the gym is already a live wire. Metal clanks, treadmills thrum, bass-heavy pop rattles the mirrors, and a chorus of strained grunts underlines everything. The air tastes faintly of chalk and protein shakes. And you want, with an aching passion, to be anywhere but here.

You fall a few steps behind Nien, who moves through the large space like she owns the layout and the playlist. Her pink ponytail bounces with each stride; her hoodie sleeves are pushed up just enough to flash the curve of a biceps that looks illegal on a person who smiles like a dandelion. At home she’s a cinnamon roll. Here she looks like she will effortlessly put you on a chokehold.

“Remind me why I agreed to this again?” you ask, dragging your feet toward the bag racks so your shoes hit the rubber floor slower than they should.

“Because deep down, you love taking care of your health, with me.” she replied, voice dripping with mischief.

“I don’t even love taking care of my own skin.” you muttered.

Nien laughed and handed you a towel. “You’ll thank me later.”

“Pretty sure I won’t, dummy.” you said, but you still followed her to the free weights like a responsible hostage.

You started your warmup — light curls, slow breathing, trying not to look like you wanted to go home. For a moment, you thought you were doing decent, doing your usual set. Until you looked over.

Nien, this girl. 

Seriously, she was in her zone. Fully locked in — no breaks, no wasted motion, just clean, economical lifts that look effortless. One set, two, three; her crop top clings to a frame that is all lean planes and subtle strength. Her face is flushed the kind of pink that says exertion, not stress, and she still manages that mischievous, almost innocent smile you’ve gotten used to.

She finished her reps, turned to you with a bright grin, and asked, “You good?”

You quickly looked away. “Yeah. Totally fine. Just… pacing myself.”

“Pacing yourself?” she repeated, smiling knowingly. “You’ve been lifting that same dumbbell for five minutes.”

“I’m focusing on form,” you said defensively. "and technique."

“Right. Sure.” She giggled  and went back to her next set, leaving you muttering under your breath about how she was a macho girl with an angelic face.

And then while you were on your third set, already feeling your arms tremble, you noticed her reflection in the mirror moving closer. Nien had finished her reps long ago, but instead of resting like a normal person, she was making her way toward you with that look. You know, the one that meant she was about to “help.”

“Your form’s off again,” she said, voice cutting through the music and clanking weights.

You exhaled through your teeth, trying to sound nonchalant. “I got it.”

“You don’t,” she replied simply, standing right behind you now. "You should take a— "

Before you could protest, you felt her presence — warm, solid, unmistakable. Her hand slid lightly between your shoulder blades, palm pressed flat against your back. “You’re rounding,” she murmured, adjusting your posture with gentle but deliberate pressure. “Keep this straight. Yeah, like that.”

You could feel every point of contact — the brush of her fingers through the thin fabric of your shirt, the heat radiating from her body as she leaned in to guide your movement, and the sweet perfume you saw her put on this morning. Her voice was low, steady, the faint sound of her breathing brushing past your ear. Great, a terrific way to stay in focus.

“Now, engage your core,” she said softly. Her hand moved down, resting lightly against your stomach, and your entire brain short-circuited. “Don’t let it relax while you lift.”

You swallowed hard. “Pretty sure it’s impossible to relax right now.”

“What was that?”

“Nothing,” you said quickly, resuming the lift. It definitely didn’t help that you decided to look at the mirror. You saw her. Nien. Too focused on getting you to the right form. You were too focused on the beads of sweat rolling down her abs instead. And you swallowed hard. Hard. The air between you suddenly felt thicker and heavier. Every breath sounded too loud, every heartbeat became annoyingly noticeable. Damn it, get your mind out of the gutter. It’s just Nien.

It’s just Nien…right?

“Better?” she asked softly, still close enough that her ponytail brushed your arm.

“Yeah,” you muttered, trying to sound normal. “Better.”

She stepped back finally, and you exhaled like you’d been holding your breath for hours. The air felt cooler without her there (annoyingly so).

Nien smiled, completely oblivious, wiping her hands on her towel. “See? I told you I’d make a good trainer.”

“Sure, totally.” you said, trying not to think about how close she’d been a second ago. "If they ignore your puppy eyes."

She laughed. Light, careless, the kind of laugh that made you think she really had no idea what she was doing to you.

You grabbed your bottle to quench your very much overdue thirst, then you saw them — two guys near the bench press. You caught the side glances, the subtle nods, the whispers that weren't as quiet as they thought. But then again, the gym was full of people looking at people. It wasn’t new, so you didn't want to assume.

Then they started moving closer.

Nien had gone back to her own set, focused, completely unaware that the two were making their slow approach, pretending to check weights near her area. You could already hear one of them mutter, “She’s cute as hell.” You tried to ignore it, you really tried. Not your business. Nien could handle herself. She's a grown up, after all.

And then they started approaching the aloof airhead. Great.

By the time the first guy spoke up  “Hey, you need a spot?”, she’d looked up, polite and caught off guard. Blinking with her puppy eyes, polite as ever. “Oh, no, I’m okay, thank you.”

“Come on,” his friend added, stepping closer. “You shouldn’t be lifting that alone. Dangerous for someone your size.”

You rubbed your temple and exhaled through your nose. Hard. Gosh, they really didn’t even try to hide. Sweaty, subtly contracting their muscles, straightening their back to flex their chests.

Nien just smiled awkwardly, trying to be nice. “Really, it’s fine. I do this a lot.”

They didn’t move. You could feel your patience slipping, tempting to just fling a 20kg weight idling next to you already. And by the time the second guy started flexing (actually flexing) and saying something about “training tips,” your leg moved before your brain did. One step, sharp, automatic. Then another. By the time your mind caught up, you were already standing between them. It got awkward immediately.

The guy blinked, clearly surprised. You blinked too, because you hadn’t exactly planned this.

“Uh…” you started, realizing you had no script for this scenario. “She—uh—she said she’s fine.”

The taller guy looked at you, a bit thrown off. “We were just—”

“Yeah, I heard,” you said quickly, trying to sound composed but feeling your heart thump a little too fast. “Just… don’t.”

“Don’t what?” he asked, brow furrowing, a smirk creeping back. “We were only—”

“She said she’s fine,” you repeated, this time firmer.

Silence stretched for a beat. The guy’s friend shifted awkwardly. Finally, they both backed off with some muttered “chill, bro” and a shrug that was supposed to look confident but just looked uncomfortable. You exhaled through your nose and turned back to Nien, who was just staring up at you — a dumbbell still in hand, face slightly flushed but not from the workout.

“You didn’t have to—”

“I know,” you interrupted, rubbing the back of your neck. “My leg kinda… moved on its own.”

Her lips twitched, struggling not to laugh. “Your leg?”

“Yes. My leg. It moves by itself,” you said flatly. “My brain was still debating if I was bothered, but my leg just—” you gestured vaguely between you and the space she’d been standing in, “—did this uh…fucking thing.”

She giggled, covering her mouth. “That’s… very you.”

“Rude. What’s that supposed to mean?” You really tried to sound annoyed.

“Impulsive but pretending not to be,” she teased. “It’s cute.”

You roll your eyes, but the heat at your neck makes your retort sound thinner than you planned. “Whatever. Just. Don’t smile like that at random dudes, okay? You give them hope.”

“I was just being polite,” she said innocently.

“Polite doesn’t mean naïve,” you say, handing her a water bottle. “Not everyone is harmless.”

Her lips twitched. “You sound like my dad.”

“I sound like someone trying to prevent you from an awkward date. Or two. Or three.”

She laughs, light and unbothered, the kind that makes the gym noise recede for a second. “Ok dad, you worry too much.”

“And you don’t worry enough, Nien.”

“Then we balance each other out.” She hooks an elbow through yours teasingly, like a claim staked with a smile.

You glared half-heartedly. “You think this is funny?”

She nodded. “A little.”

You sighed and shook your head, muttering, “This girl, seriously…” before grabbing her wrist. “Come on. We’re done here.”

“What? But I still have two sets left!”

“You can do them tomorrow. Before you accidentally start having a line of guys I have to kick.”

She laughed again as you tugged her toward the exit. “You’re seriously dragging me out?”

“Yeah,” you said, pushing the gym door open. “You dragged me here. It’s only fair.”

-

Outside, the morning air was different. Crisp and cool it was, the kind that carried the faint scent of wet pavement and coffee from the café across the street. After the thick, sweaty heat of the gym, it felt like stepping into a reset button. You exhaled, muscles still faintly trembling, and your mind somewhere between annoyance and relief.

Your hand was still wrapped tightly around her wrist. You didn’t notice until you saw the pale contrast of her skin against your fingers. She didn’t say a word about it. Didn’t tease. Didn’t pull away. Just walked beside you, her sneakers scuffing lightly against the pavement, a small, knowing smile tugging at the corner of her lips.

For a while, neither of you spoke. Just the rhythm of your footsteps, the dull hum of early traffic, and the sound of her breathing beside you. Calm, steady, almost smugly peaceful.

Then she said it, voice soft but laced with that familiar teasing edge. “You really didn’t have to step in, you know.”

You glanced sideways at her. “Yeah, well, someone has to make sure you don’t get kidnapped by other muscle heads.”

She hummed thoughtfully. “So you were jealous.”

You stopped walking. “I wasn’t jealous.”

She stopped too, turning just enough to catch your face. Eyes glinting, lips curving into that grin you’ve learned to fear. “You totally were.”

You stared at her flatly. “Don’t even try.”

She only laughed, the sound light and disarming, before doing something that short-circuited your brain. This girl. This sly girl. She slipped her fingers between yours. Smooth, natural, like it wasn’t even a decision. 

“I knew you’d step in anyway,” she murmured, voice dropping to a sing-song whisper.

You raised an eyebrow. “Excuse me?”

Her eyes darted to yours, all mischief and sunlight. “Nothing~”

You sighed, half in defeat, half to hide the fact that your pulse just kicked up a notch. “You’re so damn fucking annoying.”

“I prefer cute,” she said cheerfully, squeezing your hand…and then tugging you forward.

“Ya—” you started, stumbling a little as she began to walk faster, practically dragging you down the street by your hand.

“Come on,” she said over her shoulder, grinning as bright as the sun that was finally cutting through the clouds. “You’re buying breakfast.”

“What—why me?!” you groaned, letting yourself be pulled along anyway.

“Because,” she said, turning around just long enough to flash that teasing smile that always spelled trouble, “you always do. Bleh.”

So then she just half-dragged, half-led you while humming some pop tune under her breath — light, breezy, entirely unbothered. And for a split second, you caught yourself smiling despite the ache in your arms and the little mischief she always brought into your life.

And that's when it hit you.

She definitely planned this. Every single second of it. From waking up to now, holding your hand like her favourite thing in the world.

08:21 PM

Man, I’m starving.

You hadn’t eaten anything since lunch. There wasn't anything in the fridge yet except for a pack of water bottles and some banana milk. You would fill the fridge with proper food and ingredients tomorrow. Tonight was the night to go out for something hot and easy. You figured you deserved it all after all this. The stress, the move, the weeks of saving up and torturing your life into this place. You grabbed your wallet and your phone, slipped into your slides then walked outside. That was when you saw a woman sitting in front of the door across from yours, knees pulled to her chest and her head down. She was crying, so naturally you thought she was just locked out; it also sounded like she was trying hard not to make any noise but the helpless sound just slipped out anyway. But then you noticed how her hand trembled every time she reached for the doorlock. Denied. Denied. She was barely holding it together now.

Should I help her?

You were quite an introvert, therefore comforting strangers wasn’t really your thing. But leaving a woman alone like this didn’t feel right either. So you crouched down, voice low not to scare her when you spoke.

“Excuse me… A- are you okay?”

She flinched and paused for a few seconds before wiping at her face messily with the sleeve of her hoodie. Now that you got a clearer look of her face, the woman was gorgeous even in this state. And the mole directly under her eye instantly took your attention away. Once you notice it, you couldn’t look at anything else.

Wow…

Her lips trembled as she tried to press them together, and her hands kept shaking. You then cleared your throat softly, eyes back to the door lock.

“You’re using the fingerprint one, right?”.

Her head barely moved as she nodded, so you leaned in to check the side of the lock.

“Looks like it activated the anti break in thingy. Might happen if you try too many times. Can I… uh?”

She sniffed a few times before silently shifting to the side. You played around and found the tiny reset switch that most people didn’t know was there. 

Beep

Beep

“Okay. Should be fine now.”

Her hand hovered in the air for a second before she pressed her finger to the sensor, shoulder finally loosening as a familiar tune played when the door finally unlocked.

“Thank you…” 

You straightened up, stepping back a little on your knees to give her some space.

“Ah, no problem… Are you okay now?”

Well, that did it. Asking people if they were okay always seemed to do the opposite. Her breath  suddenly caught as her eyes flooded again, much more vulnerable this time. She even reached out to grab your t-shirt before you could even process what was going on and pulled you down toward her like she couldn’t hold it in anymore. She pressed her face into your chest, body shaking. Having never ever been in this type of scenario before, you didn’t know what to do, hands awkwardly in the air before slowly coming down to rest on her back, patting her there gently. You chose to stay there for her and let her cry. A lump formed in your throat but you swallowed it back. 

“It’s okay, okay. I’m here. I’m here.”

The hallway was quiet until someone had to walk past. Perfect timing. One of the guys from the floor above glanced your way, slowing down and raising his eyebrows at the scene.

“Hi… uh– nothing to see here.”

You gave a small wave at him before patting the girl on the back again. The guy nodded before shuffling past like he saw nothing. Kneeling in the hallway, holding a girl you didn’t even know; what a way to spend your first day at your new place. Her shoulders kept trembling with sharp breaths going in and out. You weren’t sure what else to do next so you just slowly lifted a hand and patted her on the head. The girl then nuzzled even closer into your shoulder, hands still clutching your t-shirt. A few minutes then passed just like that, quiet except for her crying and breathing. Eventually, she pulled back and wiped at her face.

“Are you okay now?”

She nodded and stayed silent for a few seconds. Her eyes were a little clearer when she looked back at you.

“What is your–” She sniffled, asking again softly. “What is your name?” 

Cute.

Letting out a quiet breath, you loosened your hold on her slowly like you were afraid she would break down again when you let go completely. You told her your name before asking her the same question.

“And yours?”

She wiped under her eyes, a smile barely on her lips.

“I’m Park Sohyun.”

“Okay… Park Sohyun-ssi.”

You scratched your neck, still awkward in your spot.

“Are you feeling a bit better now?”

“Ah, yes, yes... Thank you.” 

Sohyun let out a relieved sound before standing up and bowed a little. When you finally stood up, Sohyun turned and tapped her door to walk inside. You stood in the hallway for another second, staring at her door. Your shirt smelled just like her perfume. Nice, feminine, sophisticated. You rubbed your face and slowly dragged your feet downstairs, not forgetting why you stepped out in the first place.

A few minutes later, you sat at a small noodle spot near your place, metal chopsticks in one hand, your phone in the other. The steam rose from the kalguksu bowl into your face and fogged your glasses a bit, but you didn’t care. Your thumb scrolled through the gallery and paused on a familiar photo of your ex.

Seo Dahyun

Her angelic voice, her smile immediately flashed through your mind. Back then, you didn’t want to hear anything bad about her, even when your friends told you she was just using you and she kept you around because you were… easy. You didn’t believe them, or your dumbass just chose not to believe them. You were young, naive and thought loyalty would be everything. Then uni cam and Dahyun disappeared a month in. No warning, no breakup, no text, no fight. Gone completely. It hurt, it still did even if you tried to act tough like it didn’t. You knew you should’ve deleted her photos by now. But you didn’t.

You idiot.

Mind heavy with the crazy day, you put your phone down on the table and pushed the noodles around your chopsticks before finally taking the first bite. When you got home, you didn’t think of Dahyun again. Your mind instead went straight to the girl you’d just met. 

“Park Sohyun… Sohyun.”

“Pretty name.”

“And she’s pretty.”

Her shaking hands, how she’d clutched onto your t-shirt, the mole under her eyes, her soft round cheeks, her lips… You stared at your ceiling for a few minutes before finally tossing your phone somewhere on the mattress. For the first time in a long while, the memory of Dahyun hurt less, with a beautiful stranger filling the space tonight.

Dang, I have to clean up. Work and classes tomorrow…

────── ⋆⋅⋆ ──────

You were smart enough to get into a good school, enough to do what your parents wanted, medicine. When you said you were interested in fashion design, they didn’t exactly like it. They still loved you and saw you as their son, but you were on your own. No tuition help, no monthly financial help or money wired to your bank accounts like some of your classmates got. You worked your ass off to survive. Sometimes you thought about how things could’ve been if you chose to pursue the other route, about something your parents could brag to their friends. But it didn’t make sense. You wanted this life, so that meant you had to walk into design theory class at 9AM the next morning, then some fabric analysis class.

In the afternoon, you headed straight to your part time job. A small printing and production shop not far from home; it wasn’t glamorous but at least it paid the bills. You clocked out at around 5:30, body sore. On the way home, you stopped by the grocery store to get everything you needed to survive for the next week. When you eventually reached your floor, you stopped in your tracks. She was there.

Park Sohyun

Her hair was neatly tied back, leaving enough loose to fall around her round cheeks. Gray off-shoulder long sleeved top showing off one side of her frame, blue jeans, phone clutched in her hands like she wasn’t sure what to do next. She looked at you the moment she heard your footsteps. Her lips pressed together, eyes a little brighter. You didn’t expect Sohyun to look this stunning in only casual clothing. Well, to be fair, you only found her crying in front of her door last night.

“Hi.”

She waved awkwardly, voice shy.

“Ah– Hi, Sohyun-ssi. Do you need anything? Is anything wrong?”

“No, no– not at all.” she eyed the grocery bag in your hands. “Are you cooking tonight?”

“This? I think so… Umm, what’s wrong?’

“I was wondering…” her fingers gripped her phone tightly. “If I can cook something… for you? My place?”

“For me?”

Sohyun nodded, pink slowly rising to her cheeks. 

“To say thank you. For… you know, yesterday. I want to– umm, that.”

“Ah, oh… Su- sure. If you want to.”

“Great. Give me 20 minutes.” her lips curved into a soft smile. Then she turned, clumsily fumbled with her door and disappeared inside without looking back at you.

What the fuck just happened?

You quickly got inside your place and set the grocery bag on the small kitchen counter. Your shirt still smelled too much like the printing shop. Ink, sweat and fabric. Still sixteen minutes left when you looked at the clock, plenty of time. You then grabbed some clean clothes and jumped right into the shower. Getting out and finally changing, you wiped at the mirror with your palm and stared at yourself.

Why am I nervous? It’s not a date or anything. She’s just thanking me for yesterday. 

You sprayed on just a teeny tiny bit of cologne, hoping you wouldn’t smell too much like a try hard. Two minutes left. Close enough. All nervous and anxious, you walked to her door and lifted your hand to knock. The door opened a few seconds later with Sohyun holding a spatula in one hand, a pink checkered apron tied loosely around her waist, hair now tied into a loose ponytail. Her cheeks were pink, maybe from the heat while cooking.

“Wah.” you glanced at the spatula. “You’re really cooking.”

Sohyun giggled softly and stepped aside to let you in.

“Of course I am. Come in, please.” 

You finally stepped inside, the smell of food already filling the space. Sohyun’s place was a little similar to yours, but visibly bigger with more rooms and it actually had space to display things. Vinyl records lined on one wall, framed abstract paintings, a bunch of books stacked neatly on floating shelves, etc. She must work or do something in the creative field for a living. Your guess? A musician, and definitely way better off than you were. You were still standing dumbfounded when Sohyun tiptoed into your view, spatula wiggling in the air.

“Uhm, so… what do you think? Of the place and all?”

You glanced around for a few seconds more, eyes drifting to the records again.

“It’s nice. Way nicer than mine.”

“Eh… it’s not that nice.”

“I mean, it’s not a shoebox like mine so… way better.”

That actually made her laugh. She then pointed the spatula at the dining table near the kitchen.

“Umm, sit down, please. I’m almost done cooking.”

“...Okay, thank you.” 

You pulled out a chair and dropped into it, elbows on the table, palms slightly warm as she got back to cooking.

“So are you in uni or… working right now? You look young.”

“Umm, I’m in Hongik. Fashion design.”

Based on the way she gasped, you knew Sohyun wasn’t expecting that one at all. 

“Oh wah, really?”

“Yes, I got in through Suneung, somehow.”

Sohyun hummed, stirring whatever she was cooking.

“So what about you, Sohyun-ssi?”

“I make music. Produce stuff and… a bit of dancing every once in a while.” she glanced over her shoulder.

“That explains it. You look like a very artistic person.”

Sohyun laughed softly under her breath, tapping the spatula against the pot.

“Is that a compliment?”

“It is, I’m not joking.”

Sohyun pursed her lips before turning her attention back to the pot. Maybe she wasn’t used to hearing it directly.

“May I ask how old you are?” you asked.

“I was born in 2002. So I’m 24 now.”

“Ah, so… noona. I’m two years younger.”

…

”Noona is… good.”

A few minutes then passed, not exactly awkward but neither of you said much. When Sohyun finished cooking and grabbed two plates, you stood up to offer help.

“I got it, noona.”

Sohyun shook her head quickly, hugging them close to her body.

“No, no, it’s fine. You’re the guest, just sit.”

No matter how hard you insisted, Sohyun wouldn’t let you help her so you eventually settled back into your seat. She then brought the plates over and set the food carefully on the table. Stomach growling the second you saw them, you mumbled.

“Thanks for the meal, noona. These look delicious.”

“You’re welcome.” she smiled.

You then picked up your chopsticks, grabbing a piece of food and blowing on it a bit before putting it in your mouth. It tasted just as good as it looked.

“Wow.” your mouth were still chewing. “This is actually really good, noona.”.

“You’re just bluffing.”

“I’m not. I’ve be–” you swallowed. “I’ve been eating convenience store sandwiches for the past week, I know what bad tastes like.”

That made Sohyun laugh a bit loudly, a genuine and dorky sound that made her regret it instantly. She stopped, eyes widening with her hand flying up to cover her mouth. 

“Sorry.” she mumbled behind her fingers, cheeks flushed.

“It’s okay, noona. It’s… cute.”

Sohyun looked back down to her bowl for an instant before finally eating. After a few more quiet bites, you gathered up the courage to ask.

“Noona, can I ask you something?”

Sohyun looked up from her bowl, food full in one cheek.

Cute.

“Hmm?”

“You said you produce music and stuff, right?”

She nodded.

“How’d you get into that?”

She stayed quiet a little more, chewing slowly to buy time. 

“I was an idol trainee.”

“Really?”

Sohyun smiled. “Yeah, for a few years.”

“What happened?”

“It didn’t work out, I guess. They said I wasn’t the right fit. Good dancing, good singing but lacking in something. I changed companies several times too.” her voice stayed calm, but you could tell there was something about the memories. “They all said I was lacking something… Guess I didn’t look pretty enough.”

“But you look so pretty…”

Her cheeks flushed again. 

“You’re just saying that.”

“I’m not, noona.”

Sohyun kept her head down, but you didn’t miss how her mouth was twitching to hide another smile from coming out.

“So you just switched to producing?” 

“Yes, I also do a bit of dancing every now and then but…” her fingers played with her bowl. “I already spent a lot of time training and music still is something I’m very passionate about.”

“Wow… so you’re making your own stuff now?”

“Mm. Songs and demos. Some for small companies. I got lucky and produced for a few big companies a few weeks back. Sometimes I just make music for myself. It’s more like a freelance job. Not stable or fancy but… I got myself this place.”

You leaned back in your chair, eyes scanning her living space again.

“That’s really amazing, noona.”

“Thanks. What about you?”

“Me?”

Sohyun nodded, chin in her hand now that the awkward vibe earlier had probably died down a little.

“You said you’re studying fashion design?”

“Ah, that’s right.”

“That’s cool. I haven’t met many guys who chose to pursue this type of career.”

“My parents weren’t really happy with my decision. They want me to be a doctor like my dad.” Sohyun stayed quiet, listening and humming. “So… I’m on my own for now. Tuition, rent and all of it. Part-time job pays the bills somehow.”

Sohyun pursed her lips, those bright round eyes looking at you with a hint of pity that looked too adorable.

“That must be tough.”

“It’s not that bad, noona. At least I get to have dinner cooked by you.”

The two of you kept talking as you ate; conversations flowed between small stories, random jokes and bits of your life you didn’t usually share with someone who you’d just met yesterday. But it felt nice somehow. By the time you finished the meal, the room felt much lighter than before. Sohyun stood up first to gather the plates. You tried to help but she waved you off again, moving towards the sink. You followed her anyway, standing close behind as she rinsed the dishes with her back to you, pink checkered apron still around her waist. The off-shoulder top slipped just a little as she moved, revealing more of her bare shoulder. You then stepped closer, lifting your hands gently to grip her shoulders lightly. Sohyun tensed up the second one hand landed on her bare shoulder, her skin soft under your palm as you ease her back. 

“I got this, noona. You already cooked.”

Despite letting out an annoyed sound, Sohyun didn’t resist. She slowly stepped aside and took off her apron to let you take over. Sohyun leaned against the kitchen counter and watched you work. When you finished and dried your hands, she shifted on her feet.

“You… You wanna go into my bedroom?”

“Huh!?” 

Caught off guard, your ears burned at the sudden offer. Sohyun looked just as flustered, waving her hands quickly. 

“N– No! No! Not like that! I just meant like…” she rubbed her arm awkwardly. “I wanna show you my music stuff. My work.”

“Ah, okay, noona.”

She bit her lips, looking away for a second.

“Sorry. I’m awkward sometimes.”

You laughed quietly, playing with your pockets.

“That makes two of us then.”

Sohyun led the way into her room. The second you walked in, you noticed the scent first, warm and nice, something expensive. Sohyun’s bedroom looked exactly like her. Creative, a little sophisticated but beautifully decorated. Vinyl records were on the walls again. Next to them was a small shelf with perfume bottles of different colors and shapes. There were also books stacked on floating shelves, some leaning over others. Across the bed, there was a TV mounted on the wall. Near the door was her workspace. A desk set up with her PC, a musical keyboard, an electric guitar and some other musical stuff that you had no idea what they were. Her chair creaked softly as she sat down. Sohyun then reached over and pulled out another chair, sliding it out to you as her eyes looked up at you.

“Sit, sit.”

Your cheeks heated up a little at the soft offer, but you played it cool. You took the seat next to her, close enough that your knees almost touched. Sohyun started clicking through a few folders on her computer.

“Do you know tripleS?” she asked, glancing at you.

“Umm, I’ve heard a few of their songs.”

Her lips twitched, holding back a grin.

“I actually produced quite a few for them.”

“Seriously? That’s crazy, noona.” you gasped.

“Not the title tracks. Just some b-sides. Some backing vocals and mixing jobs too.”

Sohyun opened a file and dragged the timeline to some specific parts. Then she grabbed a headphone on the armrest and gently slipped it gently over your ears. Her hands brushed the sides of your face for a second, it wasn’t a grand gesture but enough to make your heart jump. The music played, clean and crisp in your ears. While you listened, you felt her eyes watching you attentively with a proud smile. Her body leaned just slightly toward you, eager to see your reaction. When the song ended, you pulled the headphones down, genuinely impressed

“That was great, noona. You’re so cool.”

Sohyun tried to hide the way her cheeks flushed but to no avail, fiddling with her mouse again.

“Do you know Heejin?” 

Your eyes widened at the mention of the name.

“Heejin? Jeon Heejin?”

Sohyun nodded like it was no big deal. 

“Yup! Her. We’re actually friends. I worked on a song for her recently but it’s not out yet.”

“No way.” you almost fell out of your chair. “I’m a huge fan of her, noona.”

Sohyun laughed, that same shy and dorky laugh you were starting to get addicted to. She covered her mouth with her hand again, her eyes squinting from laughing too hard. “I’ll definitely tell her that.”

“What else do you have to hide from me, noona? You’re secretly famous?”

“Uh… I told you I dance.”

“Mm hmm?”

“I was in Twice’s Cheer Up MV. Just a background actor though.”

“No way!”

“I was a backup dancer on stage for Momoland once. I was called in last minute.”

You let out a loud gasp. 

“Can you show me that one?”

Sohyun hesitated, biting her bottom lip. 

“Ah… do I really have to?”

“Yes!” you insisted, leaning closer. “Please, noona. I wanna see.”

Sohyun groaned softly but clicked on Youtube anyway, pulling up a saved video. The moment the performance started, your eyes were glued to the screen to find her. Not too long into the video, Sohyun showed up in a wide shot–

“There you are, noona! Look at you!”

You pointed at the screen excitedly, mouth wide like you’d just spotted something worth a fortune. Sohyun let out a whiny laugh and tried to cover your eyes with both hands.

“Yah! Don’t look.”

You laughed, grabbing her wrists and holding them back. 

“No! Let me see– Come on!”

“No! Don’t watch it–”

“I want toooo!”

Sohyun kept trying to block your view, both of you laughing like idiots. In the middle of all that, you lost your balance as the chair titled back just slightly and you fell to the ground.

“Oh fuc–”

You landed hard with your back against the floor. Sohyun fell right on top of you, her body pressing tightly against yours. Her face hovered dangerously close, scent filling something in you.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, noona…”

Her lips looked so good, breath a little shaky. Both your cheeks were flushed but neither made a move to sit up first. Thus, you cupped Sohyun’s round cheeks, thumbs brushing the soft skin right under her eyes. Still, she didn’t break away from your touch and kept eye contact, her pupil dilating. You didn’t think much and just kissed her. It was soft at first as you tested the line. But Sohyun kissed you back, breath catching in her throat. Your heart raced, fearing you stepped over the line too much now. You pulled back only to see Sohyun both shocked and breathless. You thought a slap or a punch would come next, eyes almost closing to prepare for a hit when Sohyun leaned in again.

“I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to kiss you like th–”

Sohyun cut you off with a kiss, this time harder with her hands gripping your shirt tight. Her mouth parted slightly, breath hot against yours. You saw your chance and slid your hands down her back before holding her waist. When Sohyun broke the kiss, she sat up and shifted her hips to sit on your stomach now. The room felt weird, the good kind of weird, as she looked down at you with a pleased and shy smile.

“I– uh…”

“That happened fast.”

“It did…” your heart pounded like crazy. “I swear I didn’t mean to kiss you like that, noona.”

Sohyun put her hands on your chest, feeling the way your heart beat.

“Ah, no, no… I also liked it. A lot more than you think.”

Relieved and happy at the same time, you let out a long sigh that you didn’t even know you were holding. Sohyun giggled at the sight before offering.

“Wanna watch… I don’t know, watch the performance again? We missed half of it.”

“Okay. That sounds good.”

Sohyun shifted happily on your stomach, adjusting herself to get ready to stand up but as she moved, her hands slid down and accidentally pushed at your crotch. The moment Sohyun realized where her hand touched, her eyes went wide, cheeks evolving from pink to straight red.

“Aah–”

You coughed to cover up the embarrassment, face also heating up. Sohyun quickly jerked her hand back like she was electrocuted, voice coming out panicked.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to do that! I wasn’t tryin–”

You sat up, just as flustered.

“It’s fine, noona. Really.”

Sohyun quickly scrambled off your lap, fixing her hair. She helped you up, eyes looking everywhere but your face. Once you both stood up, Sohyun let out a shaky breath and gestured to you to sit back. The mood was now back into awkward territory. You both sat in silence, your knees touching. 

“So, uh…” she fidgeted with the mouse, trying to break the silence. “What kind of music do you usually listen to?”

“Lately? Umm, a lot of sad music. Heartbreak and those stuff, you know.” 

“Why?”

And for some reason, you let it all out about Dahyun. Maybe it was because of the way Sohyun was looking at you like she actually wanted to listen. She put on a moody playlist as the night went on. She asked. You answered. Back and forth. By the time you finished, Sohyun was pouting, her lips downward as she spoke like she was afraid she might break you.

“That’s so sad…“

She scooted her chair closer, the music still playing in the background and matching the mood. 

“I’m sorry you went through it all like that, really.”

Her hands reached out, fingertips on your sleeves like she wasn’t sure if she should hold your hands yet. You sat there for a moment, shy and scared at the same time.

“Noona…”

Sohyun hummed. Still too nervous, you gathered your remaining courage and took your shot.

“This thing tonight, you’re feeling the same as I do, right?”

She looked at you for a long second, her eyes soft and reflecting the glow from the monitor. Then, with a small nod, she spoke.

“Yes, don’t worry. I feel the same thing too.”

Like on command, first the relief hit you, then came the warmth from her words, reaching every corner and untangled something that you’d thought to be unresolvable. You smiled, the attempt weak but it grew the moment she smiled back. None of this made sense. You’d just met yesterday and hadn’t even figured out what her favorite movie was or what she liked to eat. And yet, it felt like you’d found the exact place to put your feelings again, all on a girl who looked at you like you weren’t just a stranger less than twenty four hours ago.

“Can I, uh–”

“Hmm?” Sohyun tilted her head, smiling to encourage you. “It’s okay. What’s wrong?”

“Can I hug you now, noona?”

She chuckled at your silly question, eyes curving, lips still plump from the kisses earlier.

“Of course, you can. You’re so cute.”

You leaned in and circled your arms around Sohyun, pulling her into you slowly and not too rough, not too fast, just enough to feel her warmth again. She hugged you back, chin fidgeting gently on your shoulder. Then, still in the hug, her low and giggly voice arrived in your ear.

“Can you give me your phone?”

“Hmm?”

“Let’s exchange numbers and SNS.” Sohyun pulled her head back with a smile. “We just met yesterday, you know. Gotta make sure you don’t move out and disappear on noona tomorrow, right?”

Silly you.

“Ah. Right, right.”

You fumbled to fish out your phone from your pocket and handed it to her, still holding her with one arm. Sohyun took it, but the second the screen lit up, she paused and squinted at the lockscreen.

“Aeng?”

She broke the hug. Her lower lip puffed out, eyebrows scrunching together as she tried to pull the best ‘offended’ acting that she could, waving the phone with Heejin as your lockscreen.

“Yah, seriously?! Jeon Heejin?”

“Ah, that… It’s not like– Wait, noona.”

Your finger struggled to unlock the phone, already messing up the passcode twice. Sohyun’s lips were already twitching upward, the fake angry smirk she kept trying to hold only made her impossibly cute. You just couldn’t take her seriously anymore.

“So you like her in that way?”

“She’s just an idol, noona. And I already, I mean… I told you I’m a fan earlier.”

“Mm hmm. Fanboy.” Sohyun pretended to study the photo before closing in on you like a suspect. “Who else? Better tell me everything tonight or we are done, pretty boy.”

That ‘pretty boy’ did great damage to you, though you hid it well. Scratching your cheek, you tried not to smile so hard.

“Uh… I like IVE, Twice too. Maybe a little of– But I swear, if you give me a chance, noona… I’ll forget them all, instantly.”

Sohyun let out a small laugh before pinching your cheek.

“So you really like pretty women, hmm?”

“I mean…” you stared back into her twinkling eyes. “Seems like I do.”

She put more effort into the pinch before finally letting go and rubbing over the same spot.

“Hmph. Such a smooth talker.”

“Only when I mean it.”

“But it’s okay. I’m just glad that you think I’m pretty too. Just make sure to keep room for noona in your heart too, okay?”

---

Later that night, everything was dark except for your bright phone screen. You were on the bed, almost half an hour deep in Sohyun’s instagram.

@sohyunz14 / 24k followers

You didn’t mean to stalk that hard, but here you were liking a post from two months ago, thumb hovering over the screen like you had no self control. Her feed was full of mirror selfies, studio clips, old dance practice videos, etc. And Sohyun was beautiful in all of them. Your heart did a flip every time you saw a new picture. How could a human being be this beau–

Sohyun texted.

[박쌤 ^^] what are u doing? stalking me?

You shouldn’t have liked her old photos, you idiot.

[러버보이] … I can’t help it, noona ur so beautiful [박쌤 ^^] ㅋㅋㅋ ur smooth so when u wanna be i don’t mind it tho but i like you flustered much better [러버보이] u know what u do to me, noona u clearly know i’m weak when u talk like that [박쌤 ^^] hmmm… yeah? i like knowing i can do that to u but don’t worry, i’m shy too

You smiled uncontrollably like a teenager at her answers. But your mind drifted back to earlier. Yes, that was something but you still knew your relationship wasn’t clearly defined yet. It was too risky to start something new in just under two days. And you couldn’t help it when the memory of Dahyun crept up again. What if Sohyun was just like Dahyun? What if she left you when things just got happy?

[러버보이] noona, we just met. i clearly like u a lot but… what are we right now?  friends or the some stage?

You then immediately lock your phone and stared at the ceiling, clearly expecting an honest answer. 

[박쌤 ^^] i’m a bit scared too but i want to honest with u, i like u a lot even though we just met maybe we are at the some stage... and i would like to get to know u more is that ok?

Your heart wanted to dive straight in, but your mind still hesitated; more than friends and less than lovers? For some reason, things felt different with Sohyun, real enough to encourage you to try. You took a breath and let your fingers do their thing.

[러버보이] that’s good for me too, noona [박쌤 ^^] it’s good for me tooo~ i’m really glad we found each other u made me feel very safe and happy, last night and tonight [러버보이] i couldn’t just leave u like that, noona also… can i have a few of ur pictures… pls so that i can change my lockscreen photo?

You made an attempt, might as well, right? 

[박쌤 ^^] not now, pretty boy gotta keep u waiting sometimes

Just as you were about to sigh, another message came in.

[박쌤 ^^] but here… u were so cute tonight these are not from tonight. i’m wearing a clay mask so cant show you that yet ㅋㅋㅋ these are old photos

Sohyun was gorgeous in all of them. But your heart tripped the moment your focus went to her moles. The most special one was the one under her right eye, a tear mole. She looked so damn hot. It felt like texting your crush in middle school all over again. Only now you were grown, and this time it was real.

[박쌤 ^^] do u have classes tomorrow? wanna go out for coffee or smth? [러버보이] i got classes… and part time job too. [박쌤 ^^] that’s a shame… [러버보이] I knowwww how about tomorrow night, noona? [박쌤 ^^] then go to sleep ㅋㅋㅋ we’ll talk about this later, we still have a lot of time u will get tired if we keep texting like this  [러버보이] but i wanna talk with u more, noona… [박쌤 ^^] we will have time don’t make noona scold u sleep now, pretty boy [러버보이] pls…

You were absolutely down bad at this point.

[박쌤 ^^] ㅋㅋㅋㅋ ur so needy but i like it a lot sleep. noona will text u in the morning. sleep well~~

You texted her good night and locked your phone. You tried to close your eyes, you actually did but a stupid smile was stuck on your face, keeping you from a good night sleep. For the first time in a long while, you weren’t thinking about a certain someone named Seo Dahyun at all.

────── ⋆⋅⋆ ──────

Over the next few weeks, you and Sohyun started to spend more time together. Sometimes on purpose, sometimes by accident. She came over whenever she was bored, curling up on your tiny couch with her laptop while you sketched out ideas for design. Sometimes you worked in silence, sometimes she played random demos that she was working on while asking ‘How does this sound?’. You went over to her place whenever she had some problem she didn’t want to deal with alone. Broken switches, fixing the lights in her bedroom, replacing the shower-head, etc. She would stand behind you, tiptoe over your shoulder while you worked, always close enough for you to smell her perfume. Sometimes she cooked for you. Sometimes you just ordered food and ate side by side on the floor, already happy with each other’s presence. When you came home exhausted from work or school, Sohyun was always there. Whether it was a simple text like ‘come over, pretty boy’ or just her addictive voice, humming to call you in the hallway. The both of you also got to a point where you just added each other’s fingerprints on your door locks.

At first, you thought Sohyun was the cool, mysterious type. She looked like that on the outside. Low toned voice, chic and cool girl wardrobe; Sohyun was full of girl crush vibe, always in public with a ‘don’t care about anything’ attitude. But the more time you spent with her, the more you realized.

Park Sohyun was an absolute dork, an adorable one at that.

She laughed at weird memes you showed her, the same ones your friends thought were stupid. She randomly made weird cute sounds all day. And she had a lot of aegyo, not the forced kind either, but the natural ones that just slipped out naturally. Whenever you caught her doing it, she’d whine and get all pouty.

---

“Noona, did you just say ‘kyuuu~’ while pouring ramyeon?” “Shut up… Don’t look at me.” - “Why were you dancing like that, noona?” “I didn’t!” - “Stop pouting or I’m gonna cut your lips off, noona.” “No, you wouldn’t! And I wasn’t pouting.” - "You're older than me, noona. You should know how to do this." "But I don't know how to install it and I might mess up the whole PC! Please help me~" "Is this the same Park Sohyun who scolded me over forgetting to turn off the stove yesterday?" "Just... I don't know~ Help me~"

---

And there was one more thing you learned about Park Sohyun. She liked to act all tough and older. The noona who teased you first. The one who called you loverboy, pretty boy and always said ‘don’t make noona scold you.’ But said noona would fold so easily the second you tried to retaliate and take back control. And she’d never admit it. If you tugged her wrist and made her sit down? Folded. If you cornered her a little, stared into her eyes for a few seconds too long? Folded. If you tsked and stared at her like you were actually annoyed (even though you weren’t ever like that)? Folded.

---

You were both sitting on the floor at her low table one night, bowls of spicy jjajang tteokbokki between you. Some comedy movie was playing on the TV. You were about to take another bite when she leaned in with a napkin to wipe at the corner of your lips.

“Messy again~” Sohyun cooed, so proud of herself. “Aigoo, do you need noona to feed you all the time?”

That cute smug look on her face, the way it always was when she tried to act in control.

“Such a baby sometimes.” she wiped at the same spot again even though they were already gone. “What would you do without me, hmm?”

You let it happen at first, let her play the role. But Sohyun kept pushing. Calling you baby and looking at you like she had you wrapped around her finger. So this time you decided to flip the script just for fun. You caught her wrist so fast she was actually startled before pulling her right into your lap. Her body went stiff the second she rested sideways on your lap.

“Yah...”

You cupped both of her squishy cheeks with one hand easily, fingers rubbing that soft feature of hers that always distracted you.

“Look at you now, noona. All that talk but you lose so easily.”

“No, I don’t…”

You squished her cheeks again. Her eyes went wide, though she made no effort to escape. Then you picked up a piece of tteokbokki from the bowl on the table.

“Say ahh.”

Her cheeks flushed red but she didn’t pull away. Slowly and shyly, Sohyun opened her mouth for you to feed her. Satisfied, you dropped the chopsticks into the bowl before holding her waist close, keeping her secure in your lap. When she finally swallowed, she peeked at you through her lashes.

“I only lose this time.”

"I let you lose and win, noona."

"You wish, pretty boy."

"Keep telling yourself that, Doraemon."

-

It was a slow Saturday evening, no work, no classes. You’d come over to help Sohyun cook, or at least that was what she said.

“You can’t cook.” Sohyun handed you a bowl of vegetables and teased. “You barely survived boiling ramyeon last time, idiot.”

You rolled your eyes at her ridiculous and outdated statement.

“That was one time, Doraemon. I’ve leveled up since then.”

“Yah~ Don’t call me Doraemon.”

The kitchen smelled amazing already ten minutes in. Sohyun was at the counter, focused on cutting carrots while you stood by the sink washing the greens. The vibe was cozy, soft with Sohyun humming some tunes that she’d been working on. Just all you needed after a week full of classes and work.

“Noona.”

“Mmm?”

“You don’t trust me with that sharp thing?”

“Of course not, pretty boy. That’s why you’re on washing duty, not cutting.”

You snorted, shaking water droplets at her.

“Okay. Just so you know, I’m actually hurt. But whatever, you do what you want, noona.”

Sohyun smirked as she looked at you.

“You’re cute when you sulk, you know that?”

“I don’t sulk.”

“You do. ‘I’m sulking and pouting’ is literally written on your face right now.”

You denied, still rinsing the greens.

“Sure you’re not, you big baby.”

The two of you worked in silence for a while. Then suddenly, her hip nudged yours as she tried to reach the plate next to you.

“Move, lover boy.”

Playing the petty card, you stepped to the side only an inch and stayed put.

“Say please, noona.”

“Excuse me?”

“Manners, you know.”

Sohyun gave a small laugh through her nose, glaring at you like she was actually annoyed.

“Yah, you’re getting bold lately.”

“Maybe I’ve been learning from you.”

Sohyun bumped her hip into yours again with a grunt. Still, you didn’t move.

“Still not moving?”

“Nope.”

That was when she started to push harder while laughing under her breath.

“Yah! Move.”

“Careful.” 

You warned with your eyes focused on the knife, wobbly in her hand. But Sohyun only giggled harder and tried again, this time putting more weight into it.

“Don’t tell me what to do–”

“Wait, noon–”

The knife slipped from her hold and glazed across her finger. The sound Sohyun let out broke whatever remaining playful energy left in the air as she immediately dropped the knife onto the counter and hissed, holding her hand close to her chest.

“Yah… Didn’t I tell you to be careful?” your heart pounded as you held her wrist. “Are you hurt?”

“It’s okay. Just a small cut.” Sohyun winced.

“Tiny or not, you’re still bleeding, idiot. You should’ve paid more attention.”

You quickly opened the top cupboard and pulled out a bandaid, carefully wrapping it around her finger. “There… That should help it.”

Sohyun didn’t answer. You looked at her face, seeing her huffing quietly with her lips pressed, eyes turned away. The playful sparkle earlier was gone, the quiet pout that had just taken over told you she wasn’t that angry, just hurt from how you raised your voice. So you leaned down closer to catch her eyes.

“Noona. Park Sohyun.”

She moved her eyes to the side, now suddenly interested in the spoons and chopsticks rack.

“Come on, noona… Don’t ignore me.”

Still nothing. You sighed and stepped closer, hands quickly finding her hips.

“Yah! What are you d–”

Despite Sohyun resisting for a moment with her palms pushing at your shoulders, she eventually gave up with a quiet groan as you gently lifted her up and set her down on the counter. You stayed there in front of her, so close that her legs almost wrapped around your waist.

“Noona, I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to yell. You bled and I didn’t know how bad it was.”

Sohyun kept her arms crossed, still stubbornly staring at the far wall.

“I know I shouldn’t have snapped. You know I didn’t want you to get hurt, noona.”

…

“You’re really not gonna talk to me, really?”

The only response was the rise and fall of her shoulder, nothing audible and no look your way. So you did the only thing you could think of, catching her cheeks with both hands and stretching them out.

“Answer me, Doraemon. Answer meee.”

“Yah!” finally, she squeaked.

“Come on. At least glare at me properly.”

Sohyun tried to, eyes burning with the fakest hint of anger, cheeks pulled out like mochi. An absolutely adorable sight.

“There it is. That almost looks like a smile.”

Sohyun could only keep the frown alive for a few seconds longer before a tiny, stifled laugh found its way out and turned into a giggle.

“Stop! It hurts.” she slapped your hands away. "You're so childish sometimes."

"But you're not mad anymore, right?"

Sohyun paused and pretended to think, the faint marks of your attack were quite still visible on her adorable cheeks.

"Hmm... Maybe just a little?"

---

You never said it out loud but you liked that version of her, the Sohyun that dropped her tough facade, cheeks pink, voice soft all of sudden when she lost the upper hand. And maybe she liked it too. Because sometimes, when you caught her sneaky glances, you just got the feeling she was feeling the same thing you were.

Love?

Your relationship with Sohyun was steady and full of happy moments. It wasn’t exactly boyfriend-girlfriend yet. But the late night texts, the hanging out, the teasing, the way she let you hold her whenever things got too tough… Yeah, it was definitely more than just friends. Still, having no label didn’t bother you just yet.

────── ⋆⋅⋆ ──────

One night, you were lying on your bed, scrolling on your phone when you got the notification that @sohyunz14 was currently live on Instagram. You tapped it without much thinking. The screen soon showed Sohyun swaying to a demo she’d worked on the other day, glancing at the chat every now and then, hands dancing on the touchpad of her laptop. She barely had any makeup on, a thin cardigan on top of a black shirt. But damn did she look good. Her skin looked so soft, even only under the brightness of that one light she only turned on whenever she went live. About 400 people were watching, most of them were Sohyun’s usual crowd. People who liked her music, tripleS stans, some close friends, etc. 

“Of course, of course, I will be only playing this part today guys… Stop rushing me please.” Sohyun’s usual low voice sounded so soft, humming to the beat as she read the comments.

You recognized a few usernames popping up, spamming hearts and emojis; so you couldn’t resist.

noona look so good today

Sohyun’s reaction was instant. The second she spotted your comment, both of her hands flew up to fix her hair, as if she didn’t look good already. She then leaned in to move the phone, the other resting around her cheek, shyly mumbling.

“Noona looks so good today? Stop it, pretty boy.”

The chat immediately blew up.

pretty boy? what did she said lmao? explain girlie. ㅋㅋㅋㅋ who was that park sohyun

The other viewers who didn’t speak Korean had no idea what was happening. 

chuu from loona stop spamming stupid shit damnit

Sohyun let out a quiet laugh, her voice playful.

“Ah, you guys don’t need to know everything. Something are just private, okay?”

You’d spent enough time with her at this point to tell that Sohyun liked it. And you typed again.

pls give me a close up of your face noona im your biggest fan

Sohyun muttered your comment, almost like she was teasing herself.

“Biggest fan… this boy.”

Sohyun then flicked her hair and picked the phone up. She tilted the phone horizontally, moving them back and forth close to her face, trying to find a good angle with her cheek now on the back of her other hand. A damn good sight.

“Okay, okay. close up service just for you.”

Sohyun then giggled, but the way she looked at the screen made it feel personal. The chat then blew up even more.

that guy got special fan service omfgg this is not fairrrr unnie witchhunt tomorrow, we bring him down

She stayed like that for a few seconds before holding the phone with both hands. Her lips now pressed out in a pout, cheeks puffed a little. Then she started swaying her head side to side, just to mess with you. You could clearly see her lips twitching before she finally broke into a smile, all soft and shy.

“Ah… I swear I will get you tomorrow, pretty boy.”

The chat exploded again.

who tf is that lucky guy what about me noona???? pls notice me stream ‘girls never die’ by triples pls guyzz I love le serrafim

You stayed until the end of the live, lying there with your phone heating up in your hand. The chat was still going crazy when Sohyun tried to end the live.

“Okay, everyone. I’m ending the live now.” she waved goodbye. “Thank you for hanging out with me tonight. I’ll see you next time, okay? Be good.”

Then it ended. A few moments later, you got a few messages from her.

[박쌤 ^^] yah… why were u always messing with noona like that? u trying to embarrass me in front of 400 people? [러버보이] trying to remind noona that i’m her biggest fan that’s all ㅋㅋㅋㅋ [박쌤 ^^] next time i’m muting u ur such a meanie

You knew Sohyun was smiling when she typed that.

[박쌤 ^^] but thank you… for reminding me that i’m pretty

You stared at it for a bit, smiling like a dumbass.

[러버보이] noona, can u come over tomorrow? i gotta design some womenswear for class… i got some ideas already and i think it’d look good on you [박쌤 ^^] ㅋㅋㅋㅋ are u asking me to model for u? [러버보이] well, who else? you’re my muse now, noona [박쌤 ^^] fine but only if you buy me something to eat. [러버보이] deal

────── ⋆⋅⋆ ──────

The sun was high enough to shine through your window when she came over the next morning, playing its role in making a normal and lived in kind of peace. Sohyun was lying with her head on your lap, one hand turning the pages of her book, the other shifting her black glasses. Everything was good, just short of perfect because the one thing that had been bothering you the past weeks. Sohyun wasn’t your girlfriend yet.

You sat almost fully slouched near the end of the couch with your sketchpad balanced on the armrest, moving the pencil in lazy strokes. It was moments like this that made everything else fade out. The part time job, the classes, the deadlines. And out of habit, you glanced down at the older girl. Sohyun’s face was calm, eyes tracing the letters behind the lenses as she read. Every now and then, she would bite her lip when she found something interesting, or exhaled softly like she was lost somewhere deep inside her own thoughts, or just to sing her favorite songs.

“침 묻혀줄래? 꼬집어줄래?

날 넘겨줄래? 읽어봐 줄래? 갈피를 꽂아줄래?...”

You smiled to yourself, thinking that Sohyun really had it all. Looks, brains, taste. She moved through life like she’d figured it all out. Maybe she had, making everything around seem a little more beautiful just by being there. But you? You were just a university kid trying to balance sketches and shifts, chasing some hazy dreams that sometimes felt too far away. Yet here Park Sohyun was. In your apartment, head on your lap while she read. You remembered telling yourself having no label was fine, but now… it was starting to get to you.

Would this last? Would this ever become something more?

You let your pencil fall still, lost in the thought.

“Why’d you stop drawing?”

Her voice made you blink and look down. Sohyun was now peering up at you from your lap, smiling with her eyes full of curiosity.

“Hmm? Just thinking about… you know, the design and stuff.”

“Design?”

“The proportions were… off, I think.”

“Liar.”

The way she called you out was so casual yet certain. Sohyun sat up a little and folded her legs next to you, book now forgotten on the nearby table. Smiling gently, she spoke.

“You only look like that when you’re overthinking, sooo… what’s going on in that stubborn head of yours?”

“Nothing serious, noona. Just tired.” you forced a stiff smile.

Sohyun bought none of your excuse, her lips quickly formed a small pout as she tugged on your arm.

“Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“Hide it when thing’s bothering you.”

You dipped your head the moment she confronted you even though it wasn’t stern, more patient and understanding. 

“You can tell me, you know. Whatever it is. Noona’s here.”

Like a hand reaching out in the dark, Sohyun made it hard to keep pretending. So you finally chose to admit after struggling to get the right words out of your mouth.

“I was just… thinking about us.”

Sohyun didn’t appear shocked nor smug. She just looked quietly attentive.

“Us?”

You nodded slowly, heart now beating so fast that you almost laughed from how nervous you suddenly were.

“Like what we are and… I don’t know. Maybe just that.”

The confession felt much heavier than you’d thought, so much that when it ended, you didn’t dare to meet her eyes. You fidgeted with the fabric of your pants, pinching and stretching just to give the nerves somewhere to go. The sketchpad you’d been holding then slipped off the armrest and fell to the floor, but you didn’t even bat an eye. Maybe this was it. The part where things got awkward, where comfort and closeness finally broke just because you wanted something more than you were supposed to. You could already feel your throat closing around an apology you hadn’t said yet. Until you heard a small, stifled laugh. You looked to the side just in time for Sohyun to launch herself over onto you and loop her arms around your shoulder, pulling you into her chest.

“Ah~ this kid.” she cooed between soft laughter, hand ruffling your hair. “You’re so cute, you know that?”

Your face burned, not expecting this kind of reaction from her.

“Noona…”

“Worrying about things like that? Seriously, you’re adorable.”

“I’m being serious.”

“I know, I know.” Sohyun only chuckled harder, still holding you close. “That’s what makes it even cuter.”

“Stop saying I’m cute.”

She leaned back enough to look at you, smiling as she flicked your forehead playfully.

“You get all shy and thoughtful and do that kicked puppy thing on your face. I swear, you’re impossible to stay mad at.”

Despite groaning and sinking deeper into the couch, you couldn’t stop a smile from blooming on your face. In normal things, you were the one who helped her. You’d try to be composed and make her laugh. You fixed her door, carried groceries, reminded her to rest when she worked too late. Sure, Sohyun might’ve been a little clumsy sometimes, a little unsure of herself in daily stuff; but moments like this reminded you that she was, without question, the noona she claimed to be. She had her own way of making you feel safe, of reading your silence with no difficulties at all.

“You’re afraid we might end, hmm?”

She already knew. You hesitated before slowly nodding, eyes dropping back to your lap. She didn’t reply right away. Instead, she gently cupped your face so you’d look her in the eyes again, her smile wishful.

“You think too far ahead sometimes. But that’s okay, I get it.”

“I just… don’t want to lose this with you, noona.”

“I know.” Sohyun rubbed your cheeks, silence took over for a second before she finally asked. “Do you remember that night?”

“Which night?”

“The night you found me crying in front of my door.”

The memory hit you instantly with her knees pulled to her chest, shaking, the helpless sound of her trying not to break down even more.

“Do you know why I was crying?”

“I never asked. I didn’t want to make you talk about it since it might be painful.”

“I had things… because of work. Some issues with the label and song production. Deadlines, contracts, people changing things behind my back. But now looking back, I think it was just me pushing myself to perfect my work.”

You stayed quiet and let her talk. Her eyes turned glassy before smiling smaller this time. 

“And then you, the new kid who didn’t even know my name showed up and crouched down, asking if I was okay.”

You were about to say something but Sohyun shook her head.

“After that, everything felt a little different. The next day, when we had dinner together, I remember thinking that… maybe not everything is falling apart and I can still breathe a little.” her hand still cupped your face, the touch warm and soft. “Spending time with you, doing stupid things, laughing together made me realize not everything has to be serious all the time. I was always chasing the next deadline, the next song or trying to prove something. But you just… you reminded me that being happy isn’t supposed to be rushed and complicated.”

“I…”

Fingers now moving down to play on your chest, Sohyun then asked with the shyness visible in those adorable eyes of her.

“Do you wanna hear the three words?”

Your heart skipped at the sudden question, unsure if you’d heard it right. 

“Three words?”

“Mmm. The ones you’ve probably been dying to hear.”

You couldn’t think straight. Should you say something? Should you wait? What if things go wrong? A thousand questions flashed through your mind. As if she could read through every thought racing behind your eyes, Sohyun giggled and leaned forward to give you a brief kiss on the lips. The kiss wasn’t long, but it was all you needed to scatter every anxious thought that had been holding onto you, leaving behind only her warmth and the prospect of something new, just only on the verge of blooming.

“Is that enough for you, pretty boy?”

Still dazed from the kiss, you smiled like an idiot.

“For now, maybe.”

“Aeng?” Sohyun glared at you. “Maybe?”

“Alright, alright!”

You laughed and stood up, scooping her into your arms. Sohyun yelped and gripped your shoulders as you spun her around in the tiny space; she both laughed and shouted.

“Yah! Put me down!”

“Enough playing.” you grinned and set her down. “Time to do what you came here for, your measurements. I’m making you the most gorgeous outfit now, Doraemon.”

“Doraemon?!” her cheeks flushed from laughing. “I hate that nickname.”

“You got all the gadgets, noona.” you pointed to her glasses and blue shirt. “All you need is some blue and white paint, then I got Doraemon all to myself.”

“Fine.” Sohyun rolled her eyes, smiling widely while catching her breath. “It better be look good on me, idiot.”

“Uhhh, no promise.”

And as you went to grab your measuring tape from your desk, you realized something so simple yet certain. For now, this was really enough.

────── ⋆⋅⋆ ──────

A few weeks later, everything between you and Sohyun kept going on steadily, not loud or dramatic. So when she suggested going out for coffee (a real date, as Sohyun called it), you couldn’t stop smiling. The spot she’d picked was perfectly her, somewhere in Hapjeong, filled with vinyl records on the walls and books stacked in uneven towers; a pleasant mix that felt too much like Park Sohyun herself. 

Sohyun had excused herself to the restroom a few minutes ago, saying something about fixing her makeup before you took photos together. Things had been joyful and easy. You’d started to finish each other’s sentences and fall into small habits that people in love did. And yet, neither of you had said those words. Today, sitting here with the beautiful sunlight shining through the window, you’d decided today would be the day. You sat comfortably, rehearsing ‘I love you’ in your head and thinking about how her dorky laugh would sound after you said it. Everything was perfect.

“...Wait! Is that you?”

You weren’t sure if you heard it right at first; your heart already sunk before you even turned and saw her face. The sound already sent layers of memories you’d packed away a long time ago back into your brain. Slowly, you stood and turned.

Seo Dahyun

Her hair was longer now, the dark waves falling over her shoulders.  She still had that same gentle face, the same rabbit front teeth. Everything was the same as you used to memorize down to every tiny detail. Still, the timid way she smiled at you showed you that she was just unsure as you were.

“It’s really you.”

Damn.

“Hi… It’s been a while.”

“You look better now. Different but… good.”

“Thanks. You too.”

You managed a polite smile back. Neither of you knew what to do with your hands or eyes. Nostalgia and awkwardness really did their things. Dahyun then laughed shyly.

“I– I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bother you at all. I just… wasn’t expecting to see you here.”

“No, no, it’s fine. I wasn’t expecting it either.”

“You’re still at Hongik?”

“Mm hmm, still studying. Fashion design.”

Her smile turned a little brighter.

“That’s great. You always talked about doing something creative, you know? I’m glad you actually did.”

“What about you?”

“I… left uni.” her fingers fidgeted with her purse. “Remember how I used to talk about music?”

“Of course, you love singing.”

“I wanted to pursue it properly. Singing, performing…” she let out a self conscious laugh. “Didn’t really work out the exact way I hoped but it led me somewhere better. I’ve got a stable job at a theater now, still doing some songwriting on the side. It’s… okay.”

“That’s great, really.”

You meant it even though your voice sounded distant like you were trying to hide behind something. You’d already moved on but didn’t know how to say it out loud. Dahyun seemed to sense it too, quickly nodding.

“Thanks.”

Hands buried in your back pocket, you nodded back.

“I’m glad you’re doing okay.”

Dahyun was still beautiful, still the same Dahyun who once filled your world. But now the feelings you’d carried for her had now faded away to nothingness, to something that no longer hurt.

…

“I was… wrong.” she finally admitted. “For leaving you like that and not saying anything. You didn’t deserve it at all… I told myself I was doing it for me, to focus on my career and not drag you into all my uncertainty. But I know I was selfish.”

“Dahyun-ah…”

“I just thought… maybe we could talk? Just a cup of coffee. I owe you that much, you know. To explain things properly, if I still have the chanc–”

Suddenly, your surrounding felt miles away. You really were struggling to find words. You didn’t want to hurt her, but there was nothing to give either. It wasn’t anger, just a quiet discomfort now.

“I–”

“Sorry, baby~”

Soft arms slipped around your waist from behind, a very familiar warmth pressed into you back as Sohyun spoke.

“You wouldn’t start without me, would you?”

Then she peeked out, smiling when she saw Dahyun standing in front of you. Still holding on to you, Sohyun gave a polite bow with her head.

“Oh? Hi.”

Dahyun was startled at first but quickly gathered herself, the awkwardness audible in her voice.

“Hi… Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt. I just ran into him by chance.”

“Oh, it’s nothing. Small world, you know.”

Dahyun eyed the way Sohyun had her arms around your waist to your face. As quickly as her offer to reconnect came, she waved and excused herself.

“Anyway, I should get going now. I just wanted to say hello.”

You nodded, waving awkwardly.

“Bye… Take care, Dahyun-ah.”

Dahyun smiled back genuinely.

“You too. Both of you.”

And she weaved through the table, disappearing into the other side of the cafe. A sudden bite at your arm then made you look down to the side.

“Jealous?”

Sohyun hmphed and plopped back down into her chair, crossing her arms with her lips jutted out.

“So that was Dahyun? Pretty, I see.”

“She is.” You sat down in the seat across from her, enjoying the way her expression turned sulky. “But she’s not you, noona.”

“Smooth talker~ I don’t buy any of it.”

“You don’t have to. You’ll see.”

No matter how hard she tried, Sohyun just couldn’t hold her pout and let a smile break through.

Time to say it?

────── ⋆⋅⋆ ──────

Sohyun really triggers the noona thing for me. Also, sorry to Dahyun fans...

Your steps echoed down the halls, still eerily empty and quiet in the morning before the day-long storm. Your eyes drifted from one end to the other, studying the school on your first day.

Everything feels smaller than you imagined. The lockers barely reached your shoulders when they towered over you before. Classroom doors are decorated with names written in marker, letters uneven, proud. Someone has taped up a crooked poster reminding students to use kind words. You wonder, briefly, when it became easier to teach children how to be kind than adults how to listen.

You adjust the strap of your bag and keep walking.

There’s a tightness in your chest you don’t quite want to name. Not regret, not yet. Just the awareness that this is not the version of your life you rehearsed in your head years ago, when your hands were steadier and your ambitions louder.

At the end of the hall, you spot the office.

Glass window.

Low counter. 

Lights already on.

You check your watch. Of course you’re early. You’ve always arrived at places as if being on time might make people believe you belong there.

Standing in the middle of the hall, you took in a breath to prepare yourself with memorizing new faces while the back of your mind wandered around the thought of your first class.

“Mr. Jo, good morning!” 

You turned to the voice that called you down the hall and found an older man approaching.

You bowed your head to greet them, “Principal Jung, good morning to you too.”

Principal Jung smiles the way people do when they’ve been up since dawn and learned to carry it lightly. His tie is already loosened, jacket folded over one arm. He looks like he belongs to this building in a way you don’t yet.

“First day nerves?” he asks, stopping a comfortable distance away.

You let out a small breath that might have been a laugh. “Is it that obvious?”

“Only to someone who remembers their own,” he says. “You’re early.”

You nod. “I didn’t want to get lost.”

He chuckles, glancing down the hall. “You will anyway. Everyone does. This place rearranges itself when you’re not looking.”

Principal Jung gestures toward the office door behind him. “Have you picked up your attendance sheets yet?”

“Not yet,” you admit. “I was just about to.”

“Hmm. Have you met the other teachers since we’ve last seen each other?” he asked.

You shook your head, “I haven’t but I could wait for them inside and introduce myself before classes start.”

Principal Jung shook his hand at you, “No need. Believe it or not, some of them get here earlier than you. Let me introduce you to them.” 

Principal Jung turns on his heel before you can protest, already waving you along like the decision has been made weeks ago.

“Come on,” he says. “They’re probably hiding in the staff room pretending they’re not nervous.”

You follow him down the hall, steps falling into an easy rhythm beside his. The school is waking up now. Lights flick on in classrooms. A door opens somewhere, followed by the scrape of a chair. The quiet is thinning, stretched by the promise of noise to come.

The staff room door is ajar.

Inside, a few teachers are gathered around a table cluttered with paper cups and an open box of pastries. Conversation hums, low and overlapping. Someone laughs. Someone else groans dramatically about photocopiers.

Principal Jung clears his throat.

“Everyone,” he says, not loudly, but with the kind of authority that doesn’t need volume. “I’d like you to meet our new homeroom teacher for Class 3-2. This is Mr. Jo.”

All eyes turn to you.

You straighten instinctively, hands coming to rest at your sides. You bow, just enough. “Good morning. I’m Jo (YN). It’s nice to meet you. Hopefully we can get to each other better throughout the year.”

A chorus of greetings follows mixed in with friendly smiles, affirming nods and someone waving a pastry at you like an offering.

“Welcome to the chaos,” a woman near the window says. “You picked a good class.”

“You’ll survive,” another adds. “Eventually.”

The tension in your chest loosens, just a little. These are normal people. Tired, kind, familiar in their own way.

Slowly, you picked up on their names. Ms. Kim who taught mathematics, Mr. Lee whose expertise was on biology and Ms. Yamada who taught a foreign language class to name a few.

Then beside you, Principal Jung cleared his throat.

“Ah, that reminds me. Remember when I told you that only one person keeps this place together?” He tapped on your sleeve.

You nodded in remembrance. It was one of the few things he’d said that you took lightly, half expecting it to be a message about unity and working together for a better future. You didn’t expect it in the literal sense.

The sea of words and greetings in front of you silenced before the other teachers looked at each other before one of them turned to the back end of the room.

Ms. Kim separated from the group and walked to a cubicle just quick enough before you could see who sat behind it. Later she walked back, steps no longer of her own but mixed in with someone else behind her.

Ms. Kim stops just short of the table, then steps aside.

The person behind her is quieter than you expect.

They don’t announce themselves. They don’t rush. They move with a contained, deliberate calm, as if the room has learned to make space for them without being told. Office cardigan, ID lanyard tucked neatly into a pocket, a small notebook held against their chest like a habit rather than a shield.

They look at you first, not the principal.

Their eyes meet yours, steady and observant, and for a split second you have the strange sense that you’re the one being introduced.

“This,” Principal Jung says, voice fond in a way that gives the word weight, “is Ji Suhyeon. Our office assistant. She insists on being called Jiyeon so I’d advise you to do the same. She’ll correct you even before you get the chance to call her by her real name.” he humored.

Jiyeon inclines her head in a polite bow. It’s precise, practiced. When she straightens, she offers a small smile. Not wide, not performative.

She lifts a hand, palm facing inward, and taps lightly twice against her chest. Then she gestures toward you, eyebrows lifting in a quiet question.

“She’s. . .deaf?” you asked innocently but your tone left you with questionable stares from your new co-workers.

For a moment, the room stills.

Not sharply, not unkindly. Just enough for you to feel the weight of your own words settle in your chest.

“I mean—I haven’t met anyone that’s. . .I’m sorry,” you apologized.

Jiyeon doesn’t flinch.

She watches you with the same steady attention as before, head tilted slightly, eyes thoughtful rather than offended. If she noticed the way a few teachers stiffened, she doesn’t show it.

Ms. Yamada clears her throat softly. “She is,” she says, careful. “But she prefers to speak for herself.”

Jiyeon nods once in agreement. She reaches into her cardigan pocket, retrieves her pen and notebook, and writes with quick, practiced strokes. When she turns the page toward you, her expression is calm. Almost reassuring.

Yes. I’m deaf.

She takes it back and adds another line beneath it.

But, I can read lips.

You don’t have to apologize for asking. Just don’t whisper next time.

A faint smile tugs at the corner of her mouth, dry and self-aware. The tension in the room loosens, the way a held breath finally lets go.

Heat creeps up your neck. You bow again, deeper this time. “Thank you,” you say, making sure your face is fully turned toward her. “And. . . thank you for correcting me.”

Jiyeon studies you for a second longer, then nods. Approval, maybe. Or simply acknowledgment.

Principal Jung chuckles lightly, clapping his hands once. “See? This is why she runs the place. Keeps all of us in line.”

Jiyeon smiles and tucks her head in to chuckle.

“Well, assembly is up soon.” Principal Jung said to the rest of the teachers, “shall we walk to the gym together?”

Everybody else agreed, and you nodded in suit.

-

The walk to the gym unfolds in loose clusters.

Teachers fall into step beside one another, conversations picking back up where they left off. Someone complains about the microphone cutting out every year without fail. Someone else swears the floor dips near the bleachers. The building hums now, alive with footsteps and distant voices, the kind of noise that signals a day fully beginning.

You walk slightly behind the others at first, unsure where to place yourself.

Jiyeon doesn’t rush ahead.

She keeps pace beside you, not close enough to feel intrusive, not far enough to feel distant. When you glance her way, she’s already looking at you, attentive, waiting.

You clear your throat. “I’m… still new,” you say, enunciating carefully, making sure she can see your face. “If I do something wrong, please tell me.”

She considers this for a beat, then nods.

She lifts her notebook again, writes as she walks, and turns it toward you without breaking stride.

Everyone does something wrong their first week. I’ll tell you. Kindly.

Her words land softly. 

You smile, a little embarrassed, a little relieved. “Thank you. Jiyeon.”

Her lips curve, just slightly more this time.

Inside the gym, students are already seated in neat rows, uniforms buzzing with quiet chatter. Teachers fan out along the sides, guiding classes into place. Jiyeon moves with practiced efficiency, tapping shoulders, pointing, catching a child’s attention with a gentle wave instead of a raised voice. The students respond instantly, fond familiarity written all over their faces.

You watch her for a moment longer than necessary.

She notices.

She lifts an eyebrow, amused, and signs something small and quick with one hand.

Working.

You laugh under your breath and look away, heat blooming faintly in your cheeks.

The assembly begins. Principal Jung steps onto the stage, microphone squealing briefly before settling. The students groan in unison, and Jiyeon winces playfully, mimicking the soundless vibration with an exaggerated shudder that makes a few nearby kids giggle.

As the principal speaks, you stand there among your colleagues, hands folded in front of you, posture attentive. You catch pieces of his speech, about new beginnings, about kindness, about growing together. Familiar words. Important ones.

But your attention keeps drifting back to the woman beside you.

To the way she watches the room instead of the stage. To how she anticipates needs before they arise. To how she exists so fully within this space that it bends around her without resistance.

When the assembly ends and the students are dismissed in a flurry of noise, Jiyeon turns to you again.

She points down the hall. Classroom. Then makes a small circling motion with her finger.

I’ll check in later.

You nod. “I’ll see you.”

She nodded back.

Then she’s gone, swept back into the rhythm of the school, leaving you at the doorway of your classroom with thirty expectant faces peering up at you.

You take a breath.

Maybe this isn’t the life you rehearsed.

But as you step inside, heart steadier than it was this morning, you realize something else too.

Somewhere along the way, without you noticing, the place rearranged itself.

And this time, it feels like it did so to make room for you.

-

Your first class went fine, as you expected with the ice breakers you’ve prepared beforehand.

You stood in front of the classroom, looking at the younger kids that you now had to look after. You’d ask them questions and they surprisingly answered back and not leave you in the middle of silence. They’d listen when you spoke about what to expect in your subject and what they would accept when they listened or if they didn’t.

By the time the first bell rang and the last shy hand went down, a small sense of rhythm had settled over the classroom. You found yourself smiling without thinking, noticing details that didn’t make it into any lesson plan, the way one student chewed the end of their pencil when thinking, the way another’s eyes lit up when they understood a point, and the quiet way they all seemed to watch for your cues, trusting you to guide them.

When you reached the office, the peace and quiet of the AC greeted you along with empty cubicles.

“They must still be in class.” You muttered, looking around the room and spotting the table that was assigned to you.

You pulled back the chair and set your bag on the table. Your eyes widened when you looked back in front and saw Jiyeon right across the room, at her own table and checking things off an attendance sheet.

When she finally noticed your presence, you saw her shoulders tense before dropping down slowly. She raised her hand up slightly in a small wave, one which you returned.

Jiyeon didn’t rush over. She stayed at her table, methodical, organized, a quiet center in the small office. You took a deep breath and pulled your chair a little closer to your own table, letting the initial flutter of nerves settle.

After a moment, she scribbled something on her notepad and held it up for you to read:

Good job on your first class.

You couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at your lips. It wasn’t loud or exuberant, but it was real. You lifted your hand slightly, tapping twice against your chest, a small echo of the gesture she’d made for you earlier.

Jiyeon’s eyes softened a fraction, and she tapped her pen gently against her notebook in response, an unspoken acknowledgment. The rhythm between the two of you, unforced and patient, already felt steadier than you expected.

You glanced back at your own attendance sheets, the neat columns and names suddenly feeling less like a task and more like a map of the small world you were beginning to inhabit—and a world that now, quietly, had Jiyeon in it too.

-

You soon came to learn her rhythm around the office.

You would catch Jiyeon inside in between your classes or during your breaks. She would always be occupied with something or simply anything, whether it be checking and then arranging papers or just simply reading a book for leisure.

You couldn’t quite explain it, not yet. It wasn’t loud or dramatic, just a quiet pull at the edges of your attention. The way she moved through the office, efficient, deliberate, yet somehow unassuming, made it impossible to ignore.

Even when she was buried in paperwork, there was a calm precision to her presence that seemed to hold the small chaos of the school.

Sometimes, she’d look up from her desk and meet your gaze just long enough for a flicker of acknowledgment before returning to her task.

That tiny, effortless connection left you noticing things you hadn’t before, the soft curve of her smile when a student passed by, the gentle tilt of her head as she listened to a question, the little ways she made space for others without a word.

During your breaks, when you found her with a cup of coffee or a quiet snack, you’d sit nearby, letting the air between you fill with the easy rhythm of proximity. 

Conversation came in fits and starts, her words written down in quick notes, your voice careful and deliberate, sometimes mixed with awkward gestures or clumsy attempts at sign.

Over time, the small exchanges built a kind of understanding. You learned that she had been there longer than some of your colleagues, that her dedication wasn’t just professional but deeply personal. And you could see why the students adored her—she wasn’t just present for them,

She saw them.

And somehow, your curiosity, your attention, lingered. Not just on her work, not just on her kindness, but on her. 

Always on her.

-

One afternoon, you were left inside the office to check on quiz pamphlets you had your different classes answer despite the other teachers saying to leave it for another day and that they don't really do overtime but you insisted.

The office was quieter than usual. The hum of the air conditioner and the faint scratch of pen on paper were the only sounds breaking the stillness. Sunlight slanted through the blinds, catching dust motes like tiny drifting stars. You had stacked the quiz pamphlets neatly on the table, sorting them by class, and were working through each one with meticulous care, double-checking answers and marking notes in the margins.

Jiyeon had left with the others, leaving you inside until maybe when the janitor called you out.

Or so you thought.

The ink stopped over paper when a small pack of bread and bottle of water was pushed into your view.

You looked up, startled and found her wide, expecting eyes looking back down at you.

She placed it by the side of your table before she pulled out her notebook. 

You shouldn't tire yourself.

You sighed softly and pushed a strand of hair behind your ear, feeling the weight of the hours you’d spent here already. “I know they said it’s fine to leave this for tomorrow,” you muttered, almost to yourself, “but I like to get things done properly.”

Jiyeon tilted her head slightly, pen poised over her notebook. She wrote quickly, the strokes sure and deliberate, then held the page toward you.

But even you have limits. Don’t make yourself small trying to finish everything at once.

You blinked, a little caught off guard. Her words weren’t scolding, they were careful, measured, and quietly concerned. You looked down at the small pack of bread again, the unspoken offer hovering between you, and felt a warmth you hadn’t expected.

“I appreciate it,” you said softly, your voice carrying more than just gratitude. “I… sometimes forget.”

Jiyeon gave a small nod, tapping her pen twice against the edge of her notebook, a silent encouragement. She didn’t hover, didn’t insist. She just stayed there, present, and that was enough.

You took the bread, unwrapping it slowly, and sipped from the water bottle. The office felt a little less empty now, the quiet punctuated by the subtle rhythm of her attention. For the first time in hours, you didn’t feel like you were facing the stack of papers alone.

When you looked up, Jiyeon caught your gaze and raised her eyebrows slightly, a question unspoken but clear:

Better?

You nodded, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Much better.” 

Your eyes focused on her once more before asking, “What are you still doing here?”

She scribbled on her page again.

I was helping out at the library.

You blinked, surprised. “The library?” you asked, glancing toward the window as if the quiet stacks might reveal her secret.

Jiyeon gave a small shrug, the kind that didn’t need words but carried a quiet certainty. She flipped the page again and held it up.

Books don’t move themselves.

You let out a soft laugh, the sound low and almost shy in the still office. “Right… of course,” you said. “You really do everything here, don’t you?”

Her eyes met yours, calm and unwavering, and she tapped her pen twice, her habitual rhythm that somehow felt like reassurance rather than insistence. Someone has to, her gaze seemed to say, and you found yourself nodding in silent agreement.

You leaned back slightly, letting the warmth of the moment settle. The stack of quiz pamphlets, the quiet office, the slanting sunlight—it all felt a little less tedious now, and a little more like a shared space. 

You picked up your pen again, this time with less of the weight you’d felt before, and before you could continue, she wrote again.

Can I help?

She pointed to the stack that stood unchecked. Your gaze glanced between them before your head nodded lightly.

Her smile grew.

Jiyeon sat down at the other side of the table, picking one pamphlet from the stack before reading it line by line.

You took one last glance at her as you slid over the answer key.

“You can use it,”

She takes the answer key from you with care, as if it’s something fragile rather than a sheet of paper.

Her eyes move quickly, efficiently, scanning the questions, matching answers with practiced ease. You hadn’t realized how much mental noise you’d been carrying until it quiets, just a little, watching someone else share the load.

The two of you fall into a wordless system.

You pass her a pamphlet.

She checks it, marks it, slides it back.

You stack the finished ones neatly to the side.

Every so often, she pauses and nudges a paper toward you, tapping a specific answer with the tip of her pen. You lean closer, shoulder brushing hers by accident once, then again. Neither of you comment on it. You just adjust, slightly, until the space feels natural.

You had just placed another pamphlet over the stack before she nudged her notebook closer with a question scribbled upon its page.

Have you always wanted to teach history?

You pause, pen hovering midair, the question settling somewhere deeper than you expect.

“Always?” you echo quietly, more to yourself than to her. You glance down at the pamphlets, at the familiar dates and names you’ve circled a thousand times before. Then you look back at her, at the way she waits without pressure, notebook angled but unmoving.

“I think…” You exhale, slow. “I think I wanted to understand things first.”

She tilts her head, attentive. The faintest crease forms between her brows, not confusion but interest.

You continue, words coming softer now. “When I was younger, history felt like answers. Reasons why things turned out the way they did. Why people became who they were.” A small, almost self-conscious smile tugs at your lips. “Teaching came later. When I realized understanding doesn’t mean much if you keep it to yourself.”

She turns the notebook back before pushing it across the table with new words scribbled upon it.

That’s fascinating.

“You think so?” You smiled, real this time and it grew when she nodded along.

You held your pen tighter as your other hand held the notebook, keeping it in place to write something for her.

Jiyeon pulled it closer and looked at your writing.

Have you always wanted to work at a school?

The question sits there between you, written in your own hand now, the ink slightly darker where you pressed too hard.

She reads it carefully. You can tell by the way her eyes move, by the brief pause at the end, as if she’s deciding how much of herself to place on the page.

Then she turns the notebook around.

Not always.

Just those two words at first.

She adds another line beneath them, slower this time.

I wanted somewhere quiet. Somewhere I could be useful without being loud.

Your chest tightens, just a little.

You hadn’t thought of it that way, but now that she’s said it, it fits her perfectly. The way she moves through the school like a steady current, never demanding attention yet somehow holding everything together. The library. The office. The small acts that keep days from unraveling.

“You are useful,” you say without thinking, then soften your tone. “More than you realize.”

She looks at you then, as if checking whether your words are careful or careless. Finding sincerity, her shoulders relax a fraction.

She writes again.

I like helping students. And teachers.

Your breath catches, almost imperceptibly. “I’m glad you’re here,” you admit. “I’d understand if this place would feel… emptier without you.”

Her pen pauses midair.

For a heartbeat, she doesn’t write. She just watches you, expression unreadable but gentle, like she’s memorizing the way your face looks when you’re honest.

When she finally turns the notebook around, the writing is smaller.

I feel the same.

The room seems to grow warmer, the quiet no longer hollow but full. You glance at the remaining pamphlets. There are only a few left now.

“We’re almost done,” you say, though neither of you seems eager for it to end.

She nods and picks up the next paper, but this time her elbow rests a little closer to yours. The shared space feels intentional now.

When the last pamphlet is marked and stacked away, the finality settles in gently. You sit there for a moment, hands resting on the table, listening to the air conditioner hum and the distant sounds of the building winding down for the evening.

Outside, the sky has begun to turn amber.

You clear your throat softly. “It’s getting late. I should probably lock up soon.”

She writes one last thing and slides it toward you.

Did you eat enough?

You laugh under your breath. “Yes,” you say. “Thanks to you.”

She smiles, small but bright, and tucks her notebook away.

As you both stand, your movements mirror each other. You reach for the light switch. She waits by the door, holding it open.

Before you step out, you hesitate and tap her shoulder. “Jiyeon?”

She turns back.

“…Thank you. For staying.”

She meets your gaze, eyes warm, and nods once.

Always.

-

The calendar began to fill itself in without asking.

Flyers appeared on bulletin boards. Whistles started hanging around teachers’ necks. The students grew louder in the weeks leading up to it, energy fizzing under their skin in ways no worksheet could contain.

The sports festival.

It arrived like a collective exhale. A sanctioned pause from memorization and tests, from neat handwriting and quiet classrooms. The kind of day where rules bent just enough to let joy spill through.

The morning of it, the school looked different.

Banners fluttered along the fences, hand-painted and slightly crooked. Cones lined the field in bright colors. The air smelled faintly of grass, sunscreen, and anticipation. Students ran in clusters, jerseys loose on their shoulders, laughter loud and unfiltered.

You stood near the edge of the field with the other teachers, clipboard in hand, scanning your class as they bounced on their feet.

They waved when they saw you.

One of them nearly tripped trying to get your attention.

You laughed before you could stop yourself.

You had once shared the same energetic glee from years past, the same excitement that made them almost bounce in line just to play in the tug of war.

A few steps away, Jiyeon moved through the crowd with the same quiet certainty she always carried, though today she wore a cap low over her hair and a whistle looped around her wrist instead of her neck. Students gravitated toward her instinctively, tugging at her sleeve, signing excitedly, pointing at events already in motion.

She responded to each of them with patient focus, crouching to their level, hands moving with clarity and ease. You watched her for a moment, the way the chaos seemed to organize itself around her presence.

She glanced up.

Caught you looking.

Her eyebrows lifted in mild amusement.

You cleared your throat, pretending to check your clipboard, then looked back just in time to see her smile to herself.

When the first event was announced, the field erupted into noise. Students lined up, teachers took their positions, and the day surged forward with momentum that felt almost contagious.

Your station was near the relay track.

The instructions were simple. Count laps. Keep order. Step in if someone cried or tripped or decided halfway through that running was no longer their life’s calling.

In practice, it was chaos.

Shoelaces came undone. A baton was dropped and kicked halfway across the field. One student burst into tears because their team lost before the race even finished. Another celebrated prematurely, arms thrown into the air while still running in the wrong direction.

You crouched, soothed, redirected. You clapped until your palms stung and shouted encouragement until your voice thinned into something hoarse but earnest.

And in between it all, your eyes kept drifting.

Jiyeon appeared wherever she was needed most. At the tug-of-war ropes, steadying small hands. Near the water station, tapping a shoulder before a student overheated. Along the sidelines, translating rules with quick, expressive movements when confusion flickered across a child’s face.

At one point, a boy from your class ran up to her mid-event, breathless and frantic. You watched from afar as she knelt, tried to piece things together, nodded, then pointed toward you.

He followed her finger.

Straight to you.

He finished his race.

Later, during a brief lull, you found yourself beside her near the equipment shed, both of you stealing a moment of shade.

You held out a spare bottle of water. “You’re everywhere today.”

She accepted it with a nod, took a sip, then wrote on her small notepad, the paper already speckled with grass stains.

Someone has to be.

You smiled. “The kids listen to you more than the whistle.” 

She glanced at the whistle looped around her wrist, then back at you, lips curving.

I use it for decoration.

A cheer rose suddenly from the field, loud enough to rattle your chest. Both of you turned at the same time.

Your class had won their heat.

They were jumping, screaming, collapsing into one another in a tangle of limbs and laughter.

You felt something swell in your chest. Pride. Nostalgia. Something gentler layered beneath it.

When you looked back at Jiyeon, she was already watching you.

Not the field.

You.

She caught your gaze and lifted her bottle slightly, a quiet toast.

You mirrored the gesture, heart thudding a little harder than the heat alone could explain.

The festival pressed on, bright and breathless.

And somewhere between the noise and the still moments stolen in passing, you realized this too was becoming part of your life’s memory.

Not just the students.

Not just the school.

Her.

-

The echoes of the festival refused to fade quietly.

Even days later, it lived on in the way students compared scraped knees like medals, in the exaggerated retellings of victories and near disasters, in the way laughter spilled out between lessons before being herded back into rows and rules. The school had returned to its usual rhythm, but something lighter threaded through it now.

Today’s lesson was gentler by design.

The library doors opened with a familiar hush, the scent of old paper and polished wood folding over your class like a blanket. You guided them inside in loose pairs, reminding them to use indoor voices, though their excitement already softened at the sight of shelves stretching taller than them.

“Alright,” you said, clapping once to gather their attention. “We’re looking for stories today. Not just dates.”

You handed out the guide sheets, questions printed neatly at the top. Who lived then. How did they travel. What do you think a day felt like in their shoes.

The students dispersed quickly, drawn to colorful spines and thick volumes alike. Some settled cross-legged on the floor. Others dragged chairs together, whispering as they flipped pages.

You walked between the aisles, answering questions, pointing out sections, kneeling beside a student who struggled with a word too big for their mouth.

From the circulation desk, Jiyeon watched.

She was there to help monitor, a familiar presence behind the counter, glasses perched low on her nose as she sorted returns. Every so often, a student would run up to her, book clutched tightly, hands moving in excited signs as they asked something you couldn’t quite hear or see.

She answered all of them.

With patience. With clarity. With that same calm certainty.

At one point, she caught your eye across the room and held up a book, tapping the cover twice before pointing to one of your guide questions.

You nodded, impressed. “Yes. That one’s perfect.”

She smiled and slid it toward a nearby student, who beamed like they’d been handed treasure.

Jiyeon stole a glance at you before walking to another end of the room where a kid had their hand raised.

You walked in between the aisles, the sound of the student's voices fading in the back. The backs of books met you, some fresh with ink while others were faded in time. 

You stopped when one of them was sticking out of the shelf. Pulling it out, you found what it was for.

Basic Sign Language.

You lingered there longer than you meant to.

The book sat heavier in your hands than its size suggested, its cover worn at the edges from use. Someone had written their name on the inside in careful ink, slightly smudged, as if erased and rewritten once before committing.

You flipped it open.

The pages were simple. Diagrams of hands. Arrows showing movement. Short explanations beneath each illustration. 

Hello.

Thank you.

Sorry.

Please.

You traced a finger along the margins without thinking, committing shapes to memory in the quiet way you always did when something mattered.

A laugh rose from the other side of the shelves. A student’s, sharp and bright, followed by Jiyeon’s softer response. You couldn’t hear her voice, but you didn’t need to. Her hands spoke for her. Fluid. Intentional. Gentle in a way that made even correction feel kind.

You glanced down again.

Hello.

Your fingers hovered, hesitant, then mirrored the shape in the book. Awkward. Too stiff. You tried again, slower this time, loosening your wrist.

Better.

“Teacher?”

You looked up to find one of your students peeking around the shelf, book hugged to their chest. “Is this one okay? It’s a bit old.”

You smiled. “Old is good. Old means it’s survived.” You crouched to their level and pointed to a section. “See this chapter? That one answers your second question.”

They nodded and scampered off, shoes squeaking softly against the floor.

When you straightened, Jiyeon still stood across the room.

You closed the book gently, fingers still resting on the cover as if it might slip away if you weren’t careful.

“I could use this,” you murmured, barely louder than the turning pages around you.

When you looked up again, she was no longer behind the desk. She stood at the end of the aisle now, a respectful distance away, her gaze flicking from your face to the book in your hands. 

She lifted her eyebrows in a silent question.

You lifted it a little, almost sheepish. “I didn’t know we had this.”

Her lips curved, small and genuine. She stepped closer, careful not to disturb the quiet of the space, and gestured toward the shelves around you. Then to herself. Then back to the book.

I donated some. 

“That explains why it looks so used,” you said. “In a good way.”

She nodded once.

For a brief moment, neither of you moved. The space between shelves felt narrower than it should have been, filled with the hush of pages and the quiet understanding passing between you.

Then, hesitating, you lifted your hand again.

Hello.

You signed. 

Or you tried to, at least.

Jiyeon raised her hand to cover the exhale of laughter to slip out.

She repeated the sign back to you, slower this time, exaggerating the movement just enough for clarity. Her wrist was loose. Her fingers sure. It looked effortless in a way that made you acutely aware of how much thought your own hand had been holding.

Then she gestured to you again.

You swallowed, heat creeping up your neck, and raised your hand once more. You mirrored her this time, letting your wrist relax, letting your fingers follow rather than force the shape.

Hello.

Jiyeon’s smile bloomed instantly. She gave a small nod of approval, then stepped closer, careful and considerate, and gently adjusted the angle of your thumb with two fingers.

Like that, Better.

You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. “I look ridiculous, don’t I?”

She shook her head immediately, almost emphatically.

You nodded, absorbing them the way you always absorbed history, with quiet reverence.

A student darted past the aisle, whispering loudly to a friend before being shushed from across the room. The library breathed on, unaware of the small shift taking place between the shelves.

You glanced down at the book again. “Do you mind if I borrow it? Just for a while.”

Jiyeon’s answer was immediate. She tapped the book once, then pointed to you.

You hesitated. “I don’t want to take something important from you.”

She met your eyes, steady and sincere.

You tucked the book under your arm carefully, like a promise. 

She watched you for a second longer than necessary, then nodded.

Across the room, another hand went up. Your name followed, whispered urgently.

Duty called again.

“I should help them,” you said, reluctant despite yourself.

Jiyeon stepped back, already easing out of the moment with practiced grace. Before turning away, she lifted her hand once more.

Hello.

You smiled, lifting yours in return, repeating the sign with a little more confidence this time.

Hello.

She noticed.

The way her eyes softened told you everything.

-

Weeks folded into one another with the quiet patience of routine.

Lessons. Meetings. Hallway greetings that grew easier with time. Somewhere in between, you practiced.

Not diligently enough to call it discipline. Not recklessly enough to call it play. Just enough.

You practiced in the early mornings, before the corridors filled with noise. In the empty classroom while the projector warmed up. In the office after everyone else had left, fingers hovering over your desk, shaping words that felt foreign and familiar all at once.

Hello became muscle memory.

Thank you followed soon after.

Sorry came harder. Please even more so. Your fingers stiffened when emotions tangled with movement, when meaning demanded more than shape.

You practiced without her there.

Not out of fear.

Not out of pride.

But because you wanted the moment to belong to itself. 

In the teachers’ lounge, birthdays were spoken about casually, tossed into conversation between sips of coffee and complaints about paperwork.

“Jiyeon’s is coming up next week, right?”

“Yeah. She never makes a fuss.”

“Still, we should do something.”

You listened from across the room, stirring your drink long after the sugar dissolved.

A conversation.

That was all you wanted.

Not a grand gesture. Not applause. Just a few exchanged sentences, shaped with care, offered in a language she lived in every day.

The idea sat with you, equal parts anticipation and quiet terror.

You practiced more carefully after that.

Happy. . .took time.

Birthday. . .longer.

The concept of wishing well, of celebration, felt clumsy in your hands at first. You fumbled. Restarted. Let your fingers drop, frustrated, then lifted them again.

You reminded yourself that children learned like this too. Slowly, with mistakes, with earnestness.

The night before, you barely slept.

Your hands lay folded over your chest, fingers twitching occasionally as if rehearsing even in rest. You stared at the ceiling and wondered if she would laugh. If she would be surprised. If she would gently correct you like she always did, patient and kind.

Morning arrived regardless.

The school buzzed with its usual energy, unaware of the quiet milestone you carried with you. You saw her briefly in the office, focused as ever, a small paper crown taped to the edge of her desk by a student’s careful hands.

She noticed you watching and smiled, that familiar curve that always felt like an invitation.

The other teachers would surprise her later, with a cake and candles, with balloons tied to her table but for now all you had to do was make sure she didn’t grow any suspicions.

You kept your distance that morning.

Not avoidance.

Just restraint.

You greeted her like always, a small nod, a polite smile, nothing that would give you away. She returned it easily, unaware of the careful calculation behind your calm. If she noticed the way you lingered half a second longer than usual, she didn’t comment on it.

The paper crown wobbled carefully every time she moved. A student had drawn stars on it in crayon, uneven yet proud. She kept forgetting it was there until another child pointed and giggled, and she would touch it, embarrassed, then laugh along.

You watched all of this from a safe distance.

Classes passed. And the day unfolded with the unremarkable persistence of routine, but underneath it all, your pulse kept time with something else. 

The lunch bell would finally ring.

You stood in the corner of the office, in your cubicle while the others were carefully placing down the numbers on the cake in a way that wouldn’t ruin the writing.

“Mr. Jo, could you call Jiyeon? I think she was in the courtyard.” One of the teachers said,

You hesitated for a moment.

Just long enough to properly understand what they asked you to do.

Then you nodded. “I’ll get her.”

The courtyard was bright with midday sun, the kind that softened edges and made the world feel briefly forgiving. A few students lingered at the far end, finishing lunches under supervision, but Jiyeon stood closer to the building, leaning against the low wall near the garden beds.

She was watching a pair of cats munching over food.

You paused at the doorway, suddenly aware of your hands. Too still. Too ready.

She noticed your reflection in the glass before you spoke. Turned. Smiled.

A question lifted in her eyes.

You raised a hand slightly, gesturing back toward the building. “They’re looking for you,” you said, making sure she could see your mouth clearly. “In the office.”

Her eyebrows knit together in mild confusion, then she nodded, pushing off the wall. She fell into step beside you easily, matching your pace without thinking.

Halfway back, she glanced sideways at you, studying your expression. You kept your face neutral with effort, afraid anything else might spill over.

Inside, the office lights felt warmer than usual.

Too warm.

The moment Jiyeon stepped through the doorway, the room erupted.

“Happy birthday to you—”

The singing was enthusiastic but not coordinated. Someone came in early, someone a little too late. A candle nearly tipped before being rescued at the last second. Jiyeon froze just inside the door, eyes wide, hands lifting instinctively like she didn’t quite know where to put them.

The cake appeared. Chocolate, neatly frosted, her name written carefully across the top. Balloons bobbed against the ceiling, strings tangled together like an afterthought.

She laughed, startled, one hand flying to her mouth.

You stayed where you were.

Watched the surprise unfold.

Watched the way she shook her head in disbelief, then bowed, again and again, signing thank you thank you thank you in quick, overlapping motions that made a few teachers laugh fondly.

When the singing ended and the room settled into chatter, plates were passed around, candles blown out amid applause. Someone pressed a paper plate into Jiyeon’s hands, another draped a ribbon around her wrist like a bracelet.

Eventually, the noise softened.

Conversations split off.

That was when she found you again.

Her gaze cut through the room, deliberate, searching, until it landed on you in the corner near the filing cabinet. She excused herself with a small bow and crossed the space between you.

Up close, her cheeks were still flushed.

Her eyes bright.

She placed a plate over the top of the cabinet, just enough for it to enter your view.

Your eyes turned to her just as she motioned you to eat.

You should have some too.

“Oh, I’m not that into sweets.” You told her, arms crossing against your chest to form an x.

Jiyeon didn’t have that.

She shook her head and carefully picked out a piece of the cake on a fork and offered it.

You opened your mouth to protest again, but the words stalled somewhere behind your teeth.

She was patient.

Annoyingly so.

Her arm didn’t waver. The fork hovered between you, chocolate frosting catching the light. Her eyebrows lifted, not challenging, not teasing. Just expectant. Like this was the most reasonable thing in the world.

You exhaled, surrendering with a quiet laugh. “You’re persistent.”

She smiled, eyes crinkling, and made a small motion with her free hand.

You leaned forward and took the bite.

It was sweeter than you expected but it was soft and rich. You chewed, nodding despite yourself. “Okay,” you admitted. “That’s… good.”

Her smile widened, victorious but gentle. She pulled the fork back, satisfied, then set the plate aside beside you.

For a moment, neither of you moved.

The office buzzed faintly behind you. Someone laughed too loudly. A chair scraped. The world kept going, but here, the air felt suspended.

Then she picked out another piece before offering it to you again.

You took a step back, something in your bag crinkling against the cabinet.

She exhaled, almost into a laugh as she set the plate back down. She pointed at you and back at it,

You better finish that.

You watched her go, the ribbon at her wrist catching the light, the balloon trailing after her like it had chosen her specifically.

You looked down at the plate she’d left behind.

Still half full.

Of course.

You shook your head to yourself, a quiet smile pulling at your mouth as you picked it up. The cake tasted just as good the second time. Maybe better, now that the moment had settled into you, warm and steady.

The rest of lunch passed easily. Laughter ebbed and flowed. Someone started cutting fruit. Another teacher argued lightly about who would wash the plates later. Jiyeon moved through it all with practiced grace, accepting well wishes, returning bows, signing thank you until her wrists must have ached.

Every so often, her eyes found you.

Not lingering. Not obvious.

Just checking.

And each time, you nodded, small and reassuring, like you were both in on something the rest of the room didn’t need to know.

When the bell rang and the office emptied, you almost let yourself slip past her before you could’ve done anything.

You caught up to her at the courtyard, the sunset slipping across the patches of grass and concrete that led the pathway out. She stood out with her balloon still wrapped around her wrist, now with drawings on them from kids that deemed it too plain.

Your steps hurried themselves down the concrete stairs and tapped her shoulder.

Jiyeon turned fully toward you, the balloon bobbing once as the string tugged around her wrist. The drawings were clearer now. Stars. Smiley faces. A misspelled happy brithday looping around the edge in marker. She glanced down at your hand still hovering midair, then back up at your face.

A question settled into her expression.

You inhaled, steadying yourself.

Your hands came up before your voice did.

Happy… birthday.

Slower than you’d practiced. Not perfect. But yours.

Then, after another second, you continued.

I wanted… to tell you properly.

Her eyes widened, just slightly.

You swallowed and went on, fingers careful, deliberate, every movement chosen.

I’m still learning.

I make mistakes.

But I wanted to say it… to you.

The silence stretched, filled only by the distant echo of students leaving, the low hum of the city beyond the gates. The balloon twisted lazily in the breeze.

Jiyeon didn’t interrupt.

She watched your hands like they mattered, like they were worth waiting for.

When you finished, you let them fall, tension rushing back into your shoulders all at once. “I’m sorry if that was clumsy,” you said aloud, habit sneaking in. “I just—”

She lifted her hand.

She signed back, slower than usual. Not because she needed to. Because she wanted you to follow.

Thank you.

For trying.

For me.

Then, softer still.

That means more than perfect words.

Your chest tightened in a way that felt unfamiliar and frightening and warm all at once.

“Wait for a moment.” you said, arms gesturing for her to give you a moment for you to reach into your bag. 

You turned as plastic crinkled inside then cursed when you pulled it out. You had meant to hand her a small bouquet of lavenders but throughout the day, they had crinkled within your bag and you wondered if she would have accepted them.

Turning back around slowly, you tried to fix them, make sure the stems stood straight when you heard her softly gasp.

You froze.

Not because of the flowers.

But because of the sound.

It wasn’t loud. It wasn’t dramatic. Just a small intake of breath, soft and unguarded, the kind people make when something reaches them before they have time to prepare for it.

You looked up.

Jiyeon’s hands were halfway lifted, fingers hovering uncertainly in front of her chest as she stared at the bundle of lavender in your grip. The balloon tugged once at her wrist, forgotten. The sunset caught in her eyes, turning them glassy, bright.

You cleared your throat, suddenly too aware of how rumpled the stems looked, how the petals had pressed in on themselves. “I—” You stopped, then tried again, quieter. “I meant to give these to you earlier. I didn’t think I’d… keep them in my bag all day.”

You held them out anyway.

Not confidently.

Not smoothly.

Just honestly.

“They’re… lavender,” you added, as if she might not know. “I heard you like things that smell calm.”

Her gaze flicked from the flowers to your face. Back to the flowers.

Then she laughed.

Not the polite kind. Not the restrained one she used around crowds. This one slipped out before she could stop it, breathy and disbelieving, her hand flying up to cover her mouth as her shoulders shook once.

She shook her head, eyes shining.

You misread that instantly. “If it’s too much, it’s okay,” you rushed. “I can just—”

She reached out.

Her fingers closed gently around the stems, careful not to crush them further. She held them like they were fragile in a way that mattered, like even bent and imperfect they deserved gentleness.

Then she took a step closer and then another one.

Just enough for you to get a smell of her cologne before her arms slipped in between the spaces of yours.

Jiyeon wrapped them softly across the back of your coat, the bouquet crinkling a little bit more but she didn’t care.

You stiffened for half a second.

Not because you didn’t want it.

Because you hadn’t expected it.

Her embrace was careful at first, like she was asking permission with the space she closed. Then, when you didn’t pull away, when your breath only caught and stayed, she relaxed into it. Her forehead brushed your shoulder. The balloon bumped lightly against your arm, squeaking once before settling.

You could feel her through the layers of fabric. Warmth. A steady heartbeat. The faint trace of her cologne, something clean and soft, like flowers in the sun.

Your hands hovered uselessly at your sides.

Then, slowly, as if afraid the moment might shatter if you moved too fast, you lifted them. One rested at the small of her back. The other curled lightly against her shoulder, fingers threading into the fabric of her coat.

The hug wasn’t tight.

It wasn’t rushed.

She breathed out against you, a long, relieved exhale, and you felt it in your chest more than you heard it.

After a moment, she pulled back just enough to look at you. Not far, just enough that her hands still held onto your coat, knuckles faintly white.

She signed, close this time, so close you had to focus not to miss it.

You didn’t have to do this.

Her eyes softened.

But you did anyway.

You swallowed. “I wanted to,” you said, voice low. Honest. “Not because it was your birthday. Because it was you.”

Her lips parted slightly. The sunset spilled gold across her face, catching on her lashes.

She lifted one hand, hesitated, then brushed her thumb gently against your wrist, right where your pulse jumped.

The last thing you saw was her stepping up with the tips of her shoes before you felt something warm quickly press itself against your cheek.

The moment was quick enough that it’ll pass if you blinked but for once, you felt the world slow down a fraction

Once she had landed on her soles, her eyes had widened as if she herself had no clue about what she had just done. She blinked, breath getting heavy before she slipped out of your grasp and continued down the pathway leaving you confused.

Stumped.

Utterly breathless.

You didn’t move right away.

Not because you couldn’t.

Because your body hadn’t caught up to what just happened.

Your cheek still felt warm. Not flushed, not burning. Like the memory of her lingered in the air and your skin had decided to keep it for itself.

You stood at the edge of the courtyard, lavender crushed gently between your fingers, balloon string still faintly brushing your sleeve where it had bumped you moments earlier. The sunset had slipped lower now, colors deepening, shadows stretching long across the concrete.

She was already several steps ahead.

Walking too fast.

You noticed that before anything else. The way her steps were longer than usual, uneven, like she’d forgotten how long her legs were supposed to move. One hand clutched the flowers close to her chest. The other fumbled briefly with the balloon string, wrapping it tighter around her wrist as if anchoring herself.

Her shoulders were stiff.

Jiyeon didn’t look back.

You opened your mouth.

Nothing came out.

Your breath finally found you again in a shaky exhale, chest rising too fast, heart thudding like it had missed a step and was scrambling to catch up. You lifted a hand, then let it fall, fingers curling into your palm.

She kissed your cheek.

The realization landed fully now, slow and heavy and unreal.

It wasn’t an accident.

Not really.

Too deliberate for that.

Too careful.

She had chosen that moment.

Chosen you.

And then, just as suddenly, she had fled from her own courage.

You took a step forward.

Then another.

“Jiyeon,” you called, voice softer than you meant it to be.

Then you ran towards her.

“Jiyeon-ah, wait for me!”

-

Ever since then, she started to work closer to you.

Not like anything was set in stone or was anything official. 

The change was subtle at first, a gentle shift that didn’t demand attention but couldn’t be ignored either.

She claimed the empty desk next to yours one morning, placing her things carefully, almost ceremoniously, as if marking territory without words.

When you walked into the office later that day, she looked up briefly, gave a small nod, and returned to whatever work she had spread across the desk. You found yourself lingering just a fraction longer at the doorway, caught in the quiet rhythm of her being there. It wasn’t intrusive. It wasn’t dramatic. It was comfortable, in the same way sunlight spills through a window and warms the floor without permission.

In the library, it was the same. You noticed her sliding into a chair nearby, a stack of books forming a quiet barrier that invited proximity without imposing it. She would glance at your work, sometimes offering a wordless thumbs-up or a small smile when you caught her looking. The students seemed oblivious, but you felt the difference immediately. Her presence shaped the space around you, shaping it in a way that made the mundane feel lighter, easier.

Even in class, she would appear in the back row, at the edge of the room or by the side of the door, quietly observing, grading, or taking notes, but you knew better. Her eyes tracked your movements, catching the small gestures you made, the way your hands moved across the board, the pauses when you collected your thoughts. It was never obtrusive, never distracting. 

One time, you caught some students at the back row of the class giggling at something.

When you asked them what they were laughing at, they pointed to the woman sitting beside the door.

Your gaze followed and saw Jiyeon sitting still with her eyes closed yet her head looked like it could topple at any moment as it slowly swayed to each side.

You didn’t wake her up, didn’t tell off the boys but you simply took off your coat and walked over before carefully draping it over her.

She blinked, a little slowly at first, as if trying to reconcile the warmth across her chest. Then her lips curved, subtle, almost imperceptible at first, but it carried a softness that made the corners of your chest ache. She didn’t reach for the coat, didn’t even shift, she just stayed there, letting the gesture linger.

For a moment, the class was just background noise, a dull hum behind the delicate exchange of glances. You kept your posture steady at the front, hands folded lightly over the desk, but every few seconds your eyes flicked back, drawn like gravity to her quiet repose.

Finally, she opened her eyes fully, looking directly at you, the faintest tilt of her head acknowledging the care you’d given. Her fingers flexed against the edge of her desk, hesitant, as if weighing the right way to respond without breaking the moment.

Then she signed. Slowly, deliberately, the way she had taught you.

Thank… you.

You felt it in your chest before your eyes, warmth, weight, and recognition all at once. 

You nodded once, almost imperceptibly, a silent acknowledgment that your attention was hers whenever she needed it. She smiled then, softly, her shoulders relaxing slightly under the coat, and for the rest of the lesson, your eyes found her repeatedly, not to check, not to command, but just to exist in the same quiet orbit.

When class ended and the office emptied, she had stayed behind waiting until you walked out of the room.

She fell into step beside you without a word, her presence settling in alongside yours like another layer of the quiet afternoon. The hallways were mostly empty, the echoes of departing students fading into the soft hum of fluorescent lights and distant footsteps.

You kept your pace measured, neither quickening nor slowing, letting the space between you feel natural, unforced. Her hand brushed briefly against your arm as you passed a classroom door, a fleeting contact that made your pulse hitch, though neither of you flinched.

Then you felt her hold onto you, finally.

When you felt her hand fit into place with yours, you stopped. 

She didn’t pull back. She let her fingers curl around yours, light but deliberate. The space around you seemed to contract, the distant hum of the school fading until all you could feel was the gentle pressure of her hand and the steady warmth of her presence beside you.

You tilted your head slightly, as if asking permission without words. She answered with a subtle squeeze, patient and knowing, letting you know she was here, fully, without needing anything else.

For a moment, neither of you moved. The hallway stretched on, empty and forgiving, and the simple act of holding hands carried more weight than anything that had happened before. Your chest tightened, warmth pooling low and steady, a quiet echo of the trust and care that had built between you over weeks, over small gestures, over moments like this.

Finally, you exhaled, slow and measured, letting yourself settle into the rhythm of her presence. You took a careful step forward, and she matched it, and then another, until you were walking side by side, hand in hand, carrying the unspoken understanding between you like something fragile and precious, 

yet entirely yours.

That certainly hits her humour, judging by that low, amused sound. "Yikes. Self-awareness. You don't see that often at this hour."

You finally turned your head and there she was. Blonde hair. Hoodie two sizes too big. A can of beer in one hand and a bowl of peanuts. Well, her cheeks were the most puffy you have ever seen, but the main point is that she looked far too relaxed for someone sitting in a half-empty bar at midnight.

"…do I know you from somewhere?"

"Don't think so." She replied. "But it was more interesting here than staring at the spider web at the corner, so I figured why not give you some decent company?"

You stared at her. "…I'm good."

"Sure, buddy." She replied immediately, grinning as she slid onto the stool beside you, pushing the bowl of peanuts between you two. "You don't say good when you down that whiskey at midnight."

You tried to search through your tired brain for a comeback. Nothing came out. "…I'm sure I'm fine."

"Of course, I can see it in your eyes." She popped a peanut to her mouth, even without saying anything you can feel like she is mocking you. "So, what's the tea? Girl trouble? Job crisis? Being kicked back to Iron 1?" 

You sighed. "Date trouble. She left. Said I was too boring."

Her eyes lit up like she'd found something fun. "Oh wow, interesting. A ‘too honest to the face’ breakup. Poor you."

"Well, it's not really a breakup. More like an early escape." you admit.

"Gosh, extra brutal." She laughed as she popped another peanut to her mouth. "Let me guess, first date?"

"Third, actually." You exhaled. "…which is far worse."

"Because it means she really tried?"

You squinted your eyes at her. "Do you always psychoanalyse strangers in bars?"

"Ehh…only the interesting ones." She sipped her beer. "Beats staring at the web."

You unexpectedly huffed a short laugh. "You must have a lot of free time, huh?"

"Wayy too much," she mocked. "What did you even do, buddy? Talk about stocks? How is mitochondria the powerhouse of the cell?"

"I said that I didn't believe in love."

A second of silence, and then she starts laughing followed by a little slam of her fist on the mahogany, you can tell she tries her best not to make a scene. She fails. “Okay… you just turned from interesting to really interesting” she says, taking a deep sigh after letting her laughter go away. “Okay then, tell me about this ‘I don't believe in love’ theory you got there…” she leans closer, her chin finds its rest on her palms as she looks at you with a bit too much curiosity, as if you just said to her that the world is a triangle.

“Doesnt really feel like a theory when five dates in a row i get the ‘I just don't see the spark between us’ text after a date, or it just goes straight to the ghost zone”

“Maybe it's because of your negative mentality? I don't know, just throwing out a guess” another peanut in her mouth.

“I’m not negative, I am just realistic about my situation” you explain.

“Yeah, it's realistic that you are a negative nancy,” she finished. "But honestly, if I were her, I'd have left too."

You frowned. "One, rude. And two, you don't even know me."

"I don't have to." She tilted her head. "You exude this pessimistic aura that I can sense from the corner of the room. I bet you're one of those guys that say he doesn't believe in love but still listens to sad ballads when he's drunk."

You ignored that playlist of songs she just called you out for on your phone. "…Okay, first of all, I don't –"

And she cuts in. "Bet your playlist is named something like 'Fuck Love but I still fucking miss you'?"

You rubbed your temple, unsure if it was because of the alcohol or it was her. "…has anyone ever told you that you are really nosy?"

"No, but I bet everyone tells you that you're quite predictable. Mr. Moody." She shot back. "Anyway, I'm sure that your next date will go better."

"I wish." You breathed, voice a bit quieter and tired. "At this point, I'm certain that people fall in love with the idea of someone, not the actual person. And then they wake up one day and realise they were just in love with how it felt to be wanted."

She was quiet for a moment. Then she let out this tiny, almost mischievous chuckle. "That…is the saddest thing I have ever heard."

"I'm so delighted that I'm your entertainment tonight." You deadpanned.

"But…" She chugged the remainder of her pint, as if she was pumping herself for some grand announcement. "…you are wrong, one hundred percent.”

It is ridiculous to argue with a random girl in a bar, but the inner you decides to challenge her, starting with the trigger: “Okay, prove it then”

“Sure, let's bet on it then” she retorts, her voice full of confidence. 

You raised an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"

"Yeah." She straightened up (or tried to. She just downed a pint, after all). "I'll make you fall in love with me."

One second. And then two. And then you had to hold your laugh. "What?"

"...in the span of 24 hours. Starting at 12 AM today, which is ...in about 4 minutes" Her tone was deadly serious for someone who (allegedly) is drunk. “I will make you say ‘I love you’, what do you say?”

You were aware that you just had whiskey, but surely no way in your life you would make a statement like that. Even with liquid courage. "…Are you serious?"

"Oh yes. absolutely" She roared, standing up and slammed down a few bills on the counter. "You think love's dead? Fine, let's resurrect it."

"Are you drunk?" You stood up with her, hand scratching the side of your head from confusion 

"Probably, but I know I'm not wrong." She responded, hand now reaching toward you. “So what do you say, are you in?”

Alrighty. Let’s assess this situation: this random girl (which by the way you don't even know) came to you, mocked you about your love life and now she wants to bet that she can make you fall in love with her in 24 hours. This can't be real, it has to be a prank. Has to be.

However, as much as you want to just laugh and walk away to just crash at your place and forget that shitshow of a date, a small part of you wants to take this challenge, prove that this nativity of hers doesn't have a place in the real world.

Besides, it's not like this would totally waste your time. Right?

…Right?

“What happens if you fail?” You ask in a curious tone.

“I won't bother you ever again, and you will prove that maybe this mindset of yours is actually correct…well, in your case at least,” she states, no sign of uncertainty in your voice, it's as if she knows she will win. “Besides, I highly doubt you have anything better to do, besides crying about GenG missing the finals again”

“Ok, I don’t cry just because an E-sport team is missing the–.” Before you could fully finish your opinion, she grabbed your wrist and dragged you with her out of the bar. “Wait— I haven’t pay–”

“I already paid your share. And that’s enough depression for one night, mister.”

The cold air smacked your face awake as she pulled you through the bar and into the street. You stumbled after her, double–no, triple guessing if she was being actually serious.

“You are one insane girl.”

“Mhm.” She hummed, waving down a taxi as casual as another night. “Yet you are still coming with me.”

“Why would I do that? I haven’t agreed to anything yet.”

She opened the door and turned to you with a wide grin. “Well, you could’ve pushed me away by now. Or any other instances back inside. So I take that as an agreement.”

She wasn’t wrong. 

And for that reason alone, you got inside the car. The ride was quiet, mainly because the alcohol was definitely taking its effect. The taxi started rolling, street lights streaking past the windows as the city was deep in its slumber. You, however, barely had time to even breathe before she turned to you with eyes wide and alive.

You thought the job interviews were tough, but this was even more draining. She started barraging you with standard questions. “What’s your name?” “What do you do for work?” “How old are you?” But then the question starts being more nosy. “Favourite food?” “Favourite movie?” “Did you cry while watching Your Name?”

You ran out of breath after answering every single question of hers that you forgot a crucial detail. “...You didn’t even tell me your name.”

“Oh. oops.” She turned her head, acting as if she didn’t forget about that part too. Instead, she gave out a lazy yet confident smile. “Seoyeon. Yoon Seoyeon.”

You exhaled, leaning back against the seat. “Well, you are something, Yoon Seoyeon.”

“Don’t fall for me too fast then.” She turned away to look at her phone. 12 am. Midnight. “We got 24 hours to kill.”

-

The taxi stops somewhere that definitely is not romantic. 

No skyline view, no fancy steaks, no modernist decor and interior. Just the good old dull flicker of a 24-hour convenience store sign, buzzing like it’s barely hanging on.

You look out the window, and then back at her. “...We could’ve gone to a family restaurant.”

“We could.” Seoyeon chuckled, already paying the driver. “But at least here there won’t be nosy people peeping our very deep ranting.”

Before you can protest, she already hopped out of the car. You sighed, reluctantly following her into the store. The door’s chime greeting you like an old friend that was the last person you want to see right now. The damn LED lights are way too bright, casting everything in that sterile glow that makes you wonder at which part of this trip you should’ve run. You yawned as the clock ticked in the background. 12:30 am.

Regardless of your mood, Seoyeon already beelined straight to the instant ramen aisle. “Alright, boring boy!” She calls out. “Do you want Neoguri, Shin, or Buldak?”

You just grabbed one without paying attention. “This one.”

“...X2 Buldak?” Her tone impressed. “Wow, must’ve been a terrible day then.”

“You don’t say.”

The cashier gives the two of you a tired look as Seoyeon pays for both cups (She ended up with a normal Buldak) and a pair of small milk boxes. And then she leads you outside (after cooking the noodles, duh), where she promptly sits down on the curb like it was a five-star restaurant. You hesitate for a second, both hands full of the noodle cup and milk box, before sitting beside her.

Steam rises from the cup as you both stir the noodles in silence for a bit. Wild situation, you tell yourself, midnight ramen on a curb with a girl (quite pretty, now that you feel sober) who promptly kidnapped you from a bar. But the air was cool, the city continued its slumber, and the night didn't feel that heavy.

This sounds a whole lot like a date.

Seoyeon takes the first bite and lets out an exaggerated groan. “Mmph! Who made this?!” She pointed to the cup in a weirdly comedic manner.

“...It’s just buldak.” You blew your noodle before slurping it, the chemical spice immediately kicks in.

“At least it has flavours compared to those high end places.” 

Well, she ain’t wrong. “Ok. You got a point.” You muffled the noodles and spices stuffed in your mouth.

“Woah, that's the first point you agreed with me.” She points the chopsticks at you. “Guess I am doing something right then.”

You chuckled under your breath, finally swallowing that (admittingly satisfying) bite. “Fine, fine.”

She takes another bite, then looks over at you. “Anyway, tell me something, boring boy. When did you decide it was all fake?”

You paused mid-your-second-slurp. “Wow, straight to the point huh.”

“Time’s ticking, remember?” She tapped on the invisible wristwatch. “Twenty four hours.”

You sighed. “Well…unsure, actually. Maybe after being called boring too many times and watching people jumping from one person after another like a game. I’m certain that they just want comfort until it gets inconvenient.”

“Damn.” She mutters, looking up at the lamp post. “That is so depressing.”

“It’s realistic though,” You countered. “Love’s basically just…convenience with better lighting.”

She turned back to you, studying your features. “Now you sound even MORE like someone who got ghosted multiple times.”

That constitutes a side eye from you. “...weirdly specific.”

“Hey,” She elbowed you. “We both know I’m observant at this point.”

“I suppose so.” You put down the wooden chopsticks to the cup. “What about you? What’s your take on love?”

She took another bite (a big one, as if she was amping herself up for the quote of the year) then, with a quieter tone, said: “I don’t believe in love either.”

That is ‘quote-of-the-year’ enough, because damn. “You don’t?!”

“Not the movie kind, you know?” She took a deep breath. “I think people meet the right ones, though. The ones who make things feel…lighter, comfortable. Doesn’t have to be forever, maybe, but enough that it matters. That’s all it really is.”

…Wow. 

You finally took a good look at her. The lone streetlight painted her face in soft warm white hues, a few blonde stray hairs escaping her bun, and the glint of tired honesty in her eyes (or she was just drowsy). Something felt unreasonably real in that moment, and it threw you off that it came from this stranger who, just an hour ago, was very chirpy and…honestly, a ball of sunshine.

“...not a bad way to see it, actually.”

She grinned, breaking the weight of her own words. “See? I’m not just a pretty face.”

“Eh, debatable.”

“Excuse me?”

“I said it was relatable.”

“You are such a fucking liar.” She laughed, poking your arm with her (dirty) chopsticks.

“Oh m– don’t poke me with that!” You groaned. “Where are your manners? The heck.”

“And yet,” She leaned in. “You haven’t walked away yet.”

Why would you when this has been far more interesting than the past 5 dates you have been in? Wait shouldn't you be against this?

By the time you two finished eating, the night had gone far quieter. The wind carried a faint chill now, brushing past the empty street like a sigh. You finally stood up, stretching your back, and fished out your phone. 3:02 am.

Wow, time flies when you are having fun. 

“Guess I should head home.” You exhaled.

“Where do you live?”

“Uhh…” You checked the map on your phone. “Ten minutes from here.”

She got up, brushing her noodle cup aside. “I’ll walk you home, boring boy.”

“You don’t have to.”

“Please.” She already took a few steps forward. “If I let you wander alone, that’s bad PR for the challenge.”

“That you started by yourself…” You rolled your eyes but followed anyway. The two of you walked in silence for a while, accompanied by the soft crunch of gravel under your shoes, and her humming something under her breath (whatever it was, her voice was making it better).

When you two finally stopped in front of your apartment, she looked at you with that same (admittingly charming) stupid grin.

“I’ll pick you up tomorrow…boyfriend.”

You blinked, ignoring how palpitating your heart got. “W-what?”

“Don’t forget, the clock’s still ticking.” She chuckled, taking a few steps backward down the street. “But if you start missing me before tomorrow morning, just say that I won, okay?”

You laughed under your breath, shaking your head. “What did I get myself into…?”

She waved lazily, her silhouette fading into the quiet glow of the streetlights. “You’re laughing already. That’s three hours in. Good night, boring boy.”

You just stood there in front of your door for a while, staring at the empty street, the faint smell of Buldak still clinging to your clothes. But for some reason, you couldn’t stop smiling either.

-

You can't tell how much time has passed since you crashed on your bed, now being woken up by the oh-so-serene sounds of loud knocks, coming from outside your apartment. You reach your hand to check the time on your phone, 6 AM.

Fucking hell.

“Who even knocks this loudly this early?” You groaned, slowly managing to get out of the bed, the knocks are still insistent as you head toward the noise and as you open the door, you are met by non other than Yoon Seoyeon

You know, you only met her like 3 hours ago, but you had a feeling she would do something like this.

Gone was the casual hoodie with her hair bundled up in a bun you remembered last night. Now she has this flowy white sundress that goes all the way down to her knees, fluttering slightly with the hallway breeze, her blonde hair loose and wavy. Maybe it was the waffling smell of tomato and fresh vegetables, but you followed the smell through your nose down to the huge basket that is certainly half her height in her hand.

“Morning, did you sleep well?” Seoyeon asks, her tone is as cheerful as she is, annoyingly cheerful if you have to add.

“...we just met like 3 hours ago.”

“So you remembered me. Good sign.” She beamed, maybe too bright for still at the break of dawn.

“I barely got any-” You were barely yawning your sluggish words out before she immediately cut you off.

“Good, get ready, we have a long day and…. I want to win this bet.” She states, giving you two small pats on your shoulder to help you fully wake up, only then she remembers her manners. “Oops, uh…Can I come in?”

You blink, twice. At this point, decency is out of the window, and you don't even want to argue with her so you just nod, moving aside to let her in while you are heading towards your bathroom. Half-grumbling, half-mumbling curses under your breath about over-enthusiastic girls and weirdly bad life choices.

While you were in there, Seoyeon hums softly as she sets the basket down on the counter, peeking curiously around your place like a cat. She crouches beside your small shelf, tilting her head at the stack of books, and then the empty energy drink cans that you forgot to clean up. (To be fair, you were expecting no one here at 6am).

“Boring Boy!” She calls out, her chirpy voice echoing through the space. “You live exactly like a young adult, dude!”

“Thanks, whatever.” You replied flatly behind the bathroom door. “Nicest insult I can get this early.”

The peace returned, but not for long until…

“You don’t lock your bathroom door?”

You choked on your toothpaste mid-brush. “What?”

“Just saying.” and you can swear you could FEEL the smugness coming from her tone. “That’s a bold move for a lonely guy.”

“Well, because I live alone…Jeez.” 

You rinse, spit, and open the door a few minutes later, towel around your neck with your hair still damp. Seoyeon definitely got the memo “get yourself comfortable” literally, as she sat on your couch now without a damn, scrolling through the phone, and the basket of food sitting neatly beside her feet. She looks up the moment you walk to the couch, and her gaze flicks up once. From your face, to your collarbone, and then down to your half-buttoned shirt.

And this girl didn’t even try to hide her smile.

“...what now?” You narrowed your eyes.

“Nothing.” It was suspiciously quick. “Are you ready yet?”

“Yes, now I am ready to go” you sigh, finishing buttoning your shirt while you grab your phone, keys and the wallet from the desk before walking out the door with Seoyeon by your side.

“Great, I have a lot of plans for today, let's get going” she responds, already heading out of your complex with you behind her since you were busy locking your door.

Now the two of you are walking on the streets beside each other, the early morning greets you with silence. Although, you can feel her gaze on you every now and then, more specifically how her eyes kept on wandering downward.

“You work out?” her question was surprisingly shorter than usual, still refusing to look into your eyes.

“Uh yeah, sometimes, why?”

“Nothing, just curious” she responds quickly, finally snapping her gaze toward, suddenly on her face there was a cheeky grin as she adds in a playful. “Just…liking what i see~”

Nothing, yeah totally. 

You raised an eyebrow. “You were totally checking me out, ma’am.”

“Please,” she scoffs with exaggerated offense. “It’s not like I was looking at your midriff or anything.”

“...well that is not creepy at all.” 

“It’s only creepy if I was catcalling, am I?” She wiggled her eyebrows. 

“No, I am pretty sure it's creepy regardless” you state, matter-of-factly.

“You see? Thats why i am not catcalling, i am just smiling to myself and…getting excited, if you know what i mean, right?~” She adds in a playful tone as you mentally take note of the lack of filter Seoyeon seems to have.

“Nope, no idea, i will say though: it is kind of funny to walk around with toothpaste stains on the cheek”

She freezes. “Wait, huh?”

“Yeah.” You grin. “You’ve got one.”

“Where?”

You pointed at your own cheek. She immediately rubs hers with the back of her hand, checking her phone’s reflection…only to find nothing.

“You jackass.”

“Pff.” It was too funny to not laugh right there. “That’s what you get for being a perv.”

“I’m no– ugh.” She groaned, but there was no bite. ‘Let’s go, I’m hungry already.”

As you followed her (still grumpily walking) from behind, you couldn’t help but let out a chuckle at how fun it is to tease this girl. Checking your phone, the screen reflects back to you. 6.30am. 

Damn it. Only a fifth of the way in the challenge, and you are already beaming. And that realisation annoys you even more than all the chaos she caused.

~~

7 am. And the first thing you expected at this time is not by the sea, but knowing her: you should just start expecting the unexpected 

By the time both of you reached the coastline, the city had only just begun to take up. The air smelled like salt and due, with the faintest trace of the ocean brushing against your face with every soft gust. The grey blue horizon begins to be painted by the golden glow of the sun, slowly coming up from the waves.

Seoyeon, as usual at this point, looked completely awake for someone who probably had less sleep than you. Her sandals made these light crunching sounds against the sand as she carried that massive basket like it weighed nothing.

You followed (too late to back out now), while letting out a wide yawn that your jaw might drop. “You do realise most people are still asleep right now, yea?”

“Yea, and most people are boring.” She countered without a beat.

“Huh. Can’t argue with that.”

She stopped near a flat stretch of sand and knelt down, setting the basket in front of her. “Perfect.” she declared, dusting her hands together.

You looked around the spot. Quiet beach, light breeze, the ocean murmuring in the background. Like a date. Maybe?

Well no shit Sherlock, it is a date. What challenge are you doing again?

“I’ll give you that.” You admitted. “Good choice.”

She looked up at you with that same grin (which lowkey has started to affect you). “See? I have taste.”

“...You also showed up at 6 in the morning to drag a guy you just met out of bed, so your credibility’s questionable.”

As usual, she ignored your banter, and was already fishing out stuff from the basket. A blanket, a thermos, two sandwiches wrapped in plastic wraps (which explains the tomato and fresh vegetable), and what looked like a freshly cut array of fruits in a plastic container.

What time did this girl really wake up to do all this?

“...that’s a lot you prepared.” You crouched beside her, finally noticing the flowery perfume on her shoulder.

“Of course.” She stated. “Can’t win a bet on an empty stomach.”

You finally sat fully. “You do realise that it’s my satisfaction you try to win, right?”

“It’s both, boring boy.” She took a huge bite out of her sandwich. “You falling in love with me will be much easier if you’re not hungry.”

You scoffed as you reached for your own sandwich. “...that doesn't really make sense…like at all” 

“Just admit that you’re impressed with my prep, damn it.”

“Its better than any previous date’s prep, which in most cases is…non existent so you cleared this low bar, i guess” You sighed as you finally bit into your own. Toasted bread, egg, tomato, lettuce, cheese…and immediately regretted giving her any kind of validation. “Damn it… this is good.”

“Good?” She glared. “I woke up at five for this and this is all the compliments I get? Jeesus, where is the chivalry these days.”

It has been barely a day, and Seoyeon has officially moved up to be the date with the most complaints ever. But to be frank, it is quite funny, so you just replied with: “Fine. Really good.”

She beamed, leaning back on her hands, the sandwich on her laps. “Heh, you are not so hard to please after all.”

“Shut it.”

Afterwards, the two of you ate in relative silence. It wasn’t awkward, surprisingly enough. Just easy. The kind where the sounds of the sea and the occasional gawking of the seagull filled the space between every bite. At one point, you two chuckled as that said seagull kept on circling on one particular spot.

After finishing her sandwich, Seoyeon turned toward the horizon, eyes squinting slightly as the sun peeked over the waves even more. “You know…” She breathed. “I come here a lot.”

You glanced at her. “Why…?”

She shrugged. “It’s quiet. The sea doesn’t shit talk back. It’s just there.”

“You? Wanting quiet?”

“Hey, your first impression of me might be a loud and eccentric one, but even I can have a break.” She tossed the crumbled plastic wrap at your knee. “Don’t ruin my poetic moment, jackass.”

You took another bite, swallowing a laugh. “I’m just saying, it’s hard to imagine you sitting here alone after you pulled a kidnapping last night.”

“Say what you want.” She chuckled for a moment, before her expression softened slightly. “I like to watch the water when I feel…um, lost, I suppose.”

Her tone made you pause. It wasn’t the playful Seoyeon from the bar that grabbed you from your depressing thought, how her white dress fluttered slightly with the wind, and how her blonde hair looked so ethereal in the sunrise.

And before you could stop yourself, you blurted out, “You are…weird, you know that?”

She blinked, then smiled, turning her head toward you. “Take one to know one…boring boyfriend.”

A strange silence followed afterward. Not awkward, actually, just one of those moments where you didn’t want to break and just let it sink in. Her hair swayed with the wind, and that faint smell of her shampoo mingling with the salt in the air. You two caught each other’s gaze once, briefly, then quickly looked away. Not totally awkward at all. 

And then, “WOOF WOOF!”

A sharp, sudden bark echoed from behind you two. Seoyeon yelped out loud…and immediately clung to your arm like her life depended on it.

“T-The fuck was that?!” she half-whispered, half-shouted, peeking at the source of the noise from your shoulder. You ignore the heat on your cheeks, unsure if it was from the proximity or the way her perfume clung onto your clothes

Regardless, you look around until you find a cute little chihuahua. “...A dog?”

“Goddamn it.” she said, tugging on your sleeve harder. “Stupid dog. Make it go away already..!”

You couldn’t help but laugh, which earned you a small smack on the back. “You’re fine, Seoyeon. You were brave enough to kidnap a random guy in the city at midnight, but a little doggy made you this scared?”

“I-It’s not funny!” she protested…and still refused to leave your side. “It could bite!”

“...It’s wagging its tail.” You pointed toward the dog who stood passively a good distance away from you two, its tongue lolling out, wagging its tail like you said, and staring up at Seoyeon with pure curiosity.

“Oh.” She muttered. “It’s…kinda cute.”

“No shit Sherlock.” you deadpanned. “Truly terrifying to be afraid of.”

She glared at you for a brief moment (not the angry one, just a really adorable one that you refused to admit). But it didn’t last long. Well, because the dog trotted closer, sniffed the basket, and barked again, making her jolt once more.

“Never mind, not that cute.” She retreated back to you again as if the dog decided to learn how to punch.

You sighed as you gave her a light pat to her thigh. “You know, for someone trying to win a bet about making me fall in love with you, hiding from a puppy is definitely not helping your case.”

Lies. It was definitely making your pulse go wild.

“Shush.” She said, swatting at your arm but with a small grin that betrayed her embarrassment. “You’re supposed to protect your girlfriend, remember?”

Let’s ignore the way your lip twitched upwards at the word ‘your’, shall we?

When the dog finally got bored of scaring Seoyeon and walked away, she released her grip away from you. “Anyways we already finished our food, lets go”

You could only chuckle at the nonchalant recovery as you helped her pack up. “Sure, where to?” You glanced at your phone again. 8:30 am.

She turned to you with that annoying grin, simply just shrugging her shoulders before walking away, leaving you confused.

~~

The next two hours blurred together in that relaxed way mornings sometimes do (a phenomenon you still don’t understand, or maybe it was her magic).

After breakfast, Seoyeon insisted on “walking off the food”, which honestly is just dragging you through half the city. The sun was higher now, definitely warm enough to feel the sweat beads on your back, while she carried the empty picnic basket around (she insisted there was no time, but really, you could tell she wasn’t that bothered). Every so often, she’d glance at you, either to tease or to ask random questions like: “why are buildings called buildings if they have already been built”.

You answered half of them; and the rest she filled in herself.

At some point, you stopped at a convenience store for iced coffee. Just like last night, you two sat on the curb, but this time with the world moving around. Cars hummed by, the smell of food waffling in the air, and Seoyeon sipped on hers. It feels…natural. Like a pair that have been together for far too long.

“You’re quiet.”

You looked at her. “Well yeah, I didn’t get enough sleep.” You muttered.

“Well, first time for waking up early, then.” She grinned. Slurping the last of her coffee, she tossed it to the bin nearby as she glanced at your phone. 10 am. “Let’s go, I know the perfect place for both of us.”

That…apparently is a PC bang tucked between a tailor shop and karaoke bar. From the silence of the sea to the loud, pop music in here, it sure is a bit of a whiplash to your ears. Or to you in general.

“Isnt this place a bit too…um…loud for a normal date?” You ask, loud enough so she can hear you.

“Do I need to explain that this is not a normal date?”

“Okay, touché.”

“Great, let's go in, and just trust me, I know what I am doing” she responds, walking toward the counter. You rolled your eyes, yet you followed her anyway. 

Surprisingly, It doesn't take that much long to get 2 neighbouring PCs free for the two of you. You paid your share and found your seat with Seoyeon on the setup to your left. She has already logged in, hair slightly messy from the walk, and her fingers dance across the keyboard as if it’s her second nature. 

“You play League, right?” She asks, hands typing her account details.

“Yeah, you too?”

“Only casually, Arena and ARAM,” She shrugs. “Sometimes I feel adventurous and play Normals, do you play ranked?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, “Gold 4, jungle.” 

You could hear it. A muttered, nearly inaudible "Sweet motherfucking lord” under her breath. You gave her a nonchalant shrug as the client window opened, though the corner of your mouth twitches.

“What's your account name?” she asks again, this time through the discord call. Nothing you really keep your thoughts about, just enough so you write it to invite her to your lobby and start the queue. And with Korea being Korea, you find yourself in champ select in less than a minute.

You glance over at her screen. She’s hovering over Yuumi.

“Oh”

“What?” she asks, eyes narrowing suspiciously.

“So you are that kind of casual player?” 

This gets you with a small smack on your shoulder. 

“I am playing with friends who have main character syndrome, sue me if I want to help them feel happy” 

You chuckle at the way she rolls her eyes…and locks in Briar.

“Really?” She scoots her chair a bit further from the table before looking at you. “You pick Briar and I’m the cringe one here?

“You picked Yummi. I rest my case.”

A blink, another one and Seoyeon just sighs, turning herself toward the screen again. Eventually the champion selection is over and the loading screen pops up.

For a couple of minutes there is silence between you two, letting the music surrounding you to flow without interrupting. You take a quick glance at Seoyeon, her eyes glued to the screen. She’s surprisingly focused. Maybe too much for a ‘casual player’.

“So…how is your dating life?” You start, breaking the silence

“Huh? What?” Her eyes darted to you.

“Like, I don't know…this entire day is for you to prove to me that dating is good and love is real, but i haven't heard a word about your own experience in dating” You pressed random keys, totally not being nervous or anything.

And obviously not because you are curious about her answer.

A small chuckle escapes her lips before she answers. “Oh…well, it does exist, I go on dates when I can, this isn't my first date.” 

“Wait, this counts as a date?”

She shrugs. “You tell me, Boring boy.”

Meanwhile the game starts, you both choose your augments, buy items and wait for the first round,

“Got ‘Feel the Burn’ by the way,” Seoyeon adds.

“Nice, Mystic Punch” you say, happy for the double high roll returning back to the main topic. “Anyway…do they go well? Do you get to the second date?”

“Oh hell no” She laughs mid-combat, finger flying across the keyboard. “You think you are the only one who has a shit dating life? 3 ghosts during text, 2 ghosts during the actual dates, and 7,”

“Yikes. Seven…?”

“Yep. I repeat: seven!! times where i have been told ‘you seem great, but your personality is a bit…too much’” 

The way she mocks their tone, with that fake masculinity. Can’t lie, it does make you laugh a little bit.

“So the pot calls the kettle black, that's interesting” you state, fingers move with dexterity, getting the first blood on the enemy Karma. “So how does it make you any different than me? if anything it seems you should believe in love even less than me.”

She snipes an enemy Ahri and smirks. “Maybe. But I haven’t, have I?”

You were about to respond when she added, her tone turned more sentimental. “I know that one day, I will meet someone that will love me. Not despite how I am, but because of it”.

You glance over. Her tone isn’t joking anymore. She looks at you straight, eyes soft but certain. “Listen…”

“Yeah?”

“...for me, love is about enjoying someone's presence and accepting every part of that person, even those that we connect less with. I don't want to be in a relationship where my partner doesn't fully accept who I am. Even the wild and cheerful side of me, because if we don't fully accept each other, is it really love?” 

You don’t say anything. You just…sit there, letting her words hang in the neon glow.

The only thing you manage to say is a simple “Wow”.

“Yeah, that went…a bit too deep right?” She laughs awkwardly, “Oh shit round is starting, get ready” she now goes back to the screen.

“Y-Yeah” you respond, turning back to the screen. You don't know if it's the fact you slept for 3 hours or something else. But you catch yourself saying—

“I mean, if my say counts, I really think you will find someone that will love you. Just the way you are. You’re quite a girl as it is.”

Seoyeon didn’t say anything either. She just lets out a soft breath and smiles (the one that is far too real for how short you two have known each other).

“...well, aren’t you a smooth talker,”  she breathed, eyes back on the screen.

You don’t try to play cool. Just smile back, and just fail miserably at focusing on the game.

~~

The rest of the 2 hours go by quickly, nothing too serious, a single win, a lot of losses (that Seoyeon insisted that were your fault) and even more banter between the two of you (“what do you mean you don't buy items?!” Seoyeon rants, and you counter with “Stat anvils are way better on Kaisa”.)

But still, you both still had fun together, enjoying each moment with a side effect of you warming up to your temporary ‘girlfriend’. So when Seoyeon drags you out of the PC bang toward the next destination, you don't question it anymore, instead just following her around.

“That is probably the most normal place you took me to” You say, looking at the sliding glass door of a burger place, one you never heard the name of, but it's quite popular based on the amount of people inside.

“Well I can't be quirky all the time, am I right?” She jokes, you laugh, it's a simple ebb and flow between you two. “You pay by the way, so get your money ready”

“Excuse me?”

“Last night i paid for your drink, and for your X2 buldak, your wallet can start losing some weight” 

Ok, she's right, and you don’t exactly want to ruin whatever you two have right now. So instead you just go in, this time taking the lead.

The order is quite simple: two burgers, two boxes of fries and two cans of the same drink (“Do you want a split straw with that?” You were this close to duke the cashier out but it was quite funny). And then you two ended up sitting across from each other by the window.

You wished you had your phone out at that time, because the way she unwraps her burger with both hands was…um…quite adorable. Ok fine, it was very adorable.

The conversation continues from the PC bang. A bit of more arguing about some recent E-sport lives, pet peeves about some celebrities, then worst movies you both have ever seen. It was very natural. Unforced. And warm.

And then the conversation leads to… this.

“So.” She looks at you…well, while gulping down her drink. “”We’re halfway in this bet.”

You inhale like someone startled awake. “Uhuh. And?”

“Well…”

“Well…?”

“...I would appreciate it if you could give your thoughts about today.”

“...What? The date?”

“Uhuh,” Seoyeon nods. “Are you having fun? Am I on the road to winning this bet? Did I change your mind already?” She asks all of this before, very ungracefully, lets out a small burp that gets her giggling, a shy smile plastered on her face that gets you smiling back.

Fuck, maybe you are falling tor her alre-  NO! you can't give up that easily, it’s only been one single day. You can’t just fall in love with someone you just met like this!

(Ignore the fact that it is clear that you really enjoy this more than any other bland dates before.)

“I mean, yeah I am having fun with you, but that doesn't mean you will win this bet” you say, eating another fry.

Her eyes narrowed, “How fast would you say ‘I love you’ if it was any other girl planning this type of date with you?”

“Around the time when they showed up with the same cute sundress and the picnic basket- Ow!!” and this response rewards you with a kick to your knee, and not a weak one as you try to hold your groan to not make a scene.

“It's a bit rude of you to mention other girls during our date, Boring Boyfriend.” she states.

“That you started by kidnapping me from the bar, this bet is also a way for me to know if I should call the police on you for kidnapping and depriving me of sleep” you comment back, trying to match her flirt. Keyword, trying.

She gasps overdramatically, “You wouldn't dare.”

“Try me then.”

“Try you? Puh lease, you are too soft.” She fires back.

You were about to counter when the phone buzzed in your pocket. A notification from the dating app. As you open it up you see a message which quickly turns your smile upside down.

‘Hey, we are still meeting today, right?

It's a reminder for tonight’s date. With a girl you matched with last week. This evening. Right now it’s 1:04 PM. 

Of course, she notices it immediately. “Oho? What’s that? Why hide your phone huh?”

You tense, didn’t realise how your hand automatically hid your phone away. “Hm? It’s nothing.” Well that was totally normal.

“Liar,” she sings. Her hand shoots out across from the table, palm open. “Let me see, pllleeeeaaasssseeee?” 

‘What? No. It’s–”

“Let me see,” She says again, but the joke is gone. 

You swallow, hands suddenly cold. And slowly, you unlock your phone and tilt it toward her like a child to their parents.

With one glance, her eyes find the app. Her lips part for a second until, “Oh.” She forces a smile. Tight. Paper-thin.

“She looks…fine,” Her tone is too calm for comfort, as she pushes the phone back to you. “Pretty, too, I should say.”

You blink. “...Are you telling me to leave?”

“Yeah, of course.” She takes a sip from her drink. “It’s fine.” Yeah, it doesn’t sound fine. At all.

And when you think maybe she’s actually upset…

“BUT!” she interrupts, voice suddenly bright again. Maybe too bright. “Let’s hit a photobooth. Before you meet her.”

You blink. “...what?”

“A photobooth,” She repeats, already standing up and dusting off her dress. “You know, those machines where couples or a group of friends snuggle together to pretend to be cute? It’s literally next door.”

“I know what it is, but why?”

She just shrugs, eyes flicking anywhere but to you. “Because I want one,” She swallows, “Of today, I guess. And in case she accidentally finds this physical evidence.”

That stirred something in your chest. But before you could sort it out, she took your hand, and dragged you towards the aforementioned booth next door. Her smile is bright yet paradoxically dim. Even though she is holding your han, it feels too distant.

As the lightbulb above the camera flashes, you and Seoyeon start doing poses toward the camera. You know, the usual — peace signs, finger guns toward each other, one photo has both of you side-hugging with Seoyeon eye smiling. 

Although, even with how happy she seems to be in each photo, you can tell something isn't right.

“Gotta say, I do think I look cute, don't I?" She comments, eyeing each photo before looking at you with a warm smile.

“Heh, yeah.” You don’t even try to hide this time.

“Come on, say that I look cute, say it” she nudges you with her elbow. That was more than enough for you to no longer have any boundaries around her.

“Fine, you look cute, there, happy?” you gave in.

She scoffs at you, “Bitch, I always look adorable” she corrects you, turning her innocent smile to a cheeky grin (that doesn’t quite go up all the way), she then takes another look at the photos before she hands them to you. “Here, you can have it. I will keep the other one.”

“Oh, thanks.”

“Don’t think too much, Boring Boy. Just…something to remember me by.” she says while slowly walking away from you.

“Ya, Yoon Seo–”

She looked back at you, adorning her smile, “Think of it as…your prize for winning the bet”.

“Seo–”

You want to walk behind her, to say something, anything. But, like a pre-planned scene in a script, she starts running away. It might be from the unexpected bonding, but you can see a few droplets of tears falling from her face toward the ground despite being far away. 

And eventually, you are left alone in front of the photobooth.

As you take a look at the photos in your hand, seeing each image one by one — you two pinching each other’s cheeks, making goofy faces, Seoyeon resting her chin on top of your crown — only one thought comes out.

“Did I…win this bet?”

For the first time since last night, the walk home is uneventful. Bland, even. No talking, no laughter, just the weirdly suspicious silence of the afternoon. All of the warm colours that surrounded the city earlier have been replaced by more monotone, grey-ish colours, it only needs to start raining before you would officially say it's a K-drama.

You can't tell how long the walk took to get you now standing in front of your door but regardless, you open it, revealing your familiar living room. Take a sigh that you can't tell if it's from relief or disappointment and slowly start walking inside.

As you get in front of your bed, tiredness enveloped you, and every part of your body is telling you to sleep. You quickly oblige to its will, slowly falling toward the mattress and immediately close your eyes, letting the fatigue of this entire day finally take its effect.

~~

You know, it's safe to say that outside of your dating life, everything else about you is quite lucky. Because even while being awake for 10 hours with only 3 hours of sleep prior, your body manages to wake you up at 7:03 PM, one and a half hours before your date.

Your alarm didn't even ring. Instead, your brain decides it is perfect for you to get up once more.

You sit up, rubbing your face, and all you see is the memory of Seoyeon's stupid, smug smile. Still lingering in your head like she's physically sitting there. And then also her back and the hidden droplets as she runs away from you. You swing your legs off the bed, glance at your wardrobe, and immediately feel guilty already.

So you just pick your second best outfit.

Not the best one, the one that your love lives in is perfectly fine and you're a fine specimen. No. Because if you accidentally run into Seoyeon wearing that, you can hear her bratty and adorable voice pouting how "you didn’t dress that nicely for me?"

And it is far too late for you to be emotionally equipped for that.

You check yourself in the mirror. Yep, somehow you still look tired. Probably because you are in quite a turmoil.

Oh right, what was the date's name again? You scrambled for your phone to check the profile again. Ah. Yooyeon. Kim Yooyeon.

It's a nice name, you thought, as you leave the place once more to the agreed location. 50% trying to stay not tired, and 50% wondering what Seoyeon is doing now.

Wait, no, that's rude. Don't think about Seoyeon right now. Yooyeon should be on your mind. Not Seoyeon. She seems like a nice girl. Smart to boot, too. She did say she's studying Science in her bio.

And her profile photo is definitely bad at capturing her beauty as a whole.

It was quite a cakewalk to spot Yooyeon outside the station, waiting under a streetlamp. Pastel sweater, neatly tied hair, a warm smile. The kind of first impression that normally would make you, and any other guys, stumble over your words and your feet.

You greet her, exchange a few polite lines, and start walking together. It's normal. Comfortable. She laughs at your joke about being half-awake after hibernating (it is half a lie), you laugh when she keeps messing up the directions.

It should feel good. It should be. It's no longer bland as before. It feels like a good start. Instead, you keep thinking how Seoyeon would've roasted you for still being sleepy. How she might be late, makes up some lame excuse, and then throws all the rants at you for being "too early".

You push those thoughts away as you reach the arcade.

Inside, it's loud and bright, with flashing lights, metal floors, and the constant ring of machines. Yooyeon paid for the token card and gives you a challenging smirk. 'Let's see if you're any good, mister."

You subconsciously gave her a half-hearted laugh. "Bring it on, miss Kim."

She pulls you to a racing game, and you try, you really try, to focus on the screen, to focus on the moment. But the moment the countdown starts, all you think about is how Seoyeon would bitching about how low the chair is. Then she would ask you to fix it, then proceed to lose and blame you anyway.

Instead, you lose by a mile. Yooyeon laughs and nudges you. "Pff, you're quite terrible."

"So mean." You force a laugh back, and she pulls you to a rhythm game next. Of course, she is shockingly good. She hits every beat, her hands moving like she has trained for her entire life.

You clap. You smile. You tell her how amazing she is. How flawless this perfect girl is. But it is genuinely impossible not to imagine the exact opposite scene, with Seoyeon missing every beat with pride, then complaining the machine is lagging even though it shouldn't, and then laughing because she knows you know she's lying, and then-

"That's a cute smile. Do I look cool with these games?"

Her voice got you snap back to reality, your mouth quickly suppressed the smile on your lips.

"Of course, of course."

One lie. 

~~

Dinner comes, and of course, as if the sky plays a big joke on you, she picks the same burger place you and Seoyeon ate at just a few hours ago. Same chairs. Same smell of fries. Same buzz of the overhead lights. And the same clock that reminds you that it’s 9pm.

Yooyeon takes her seat across from you, chatting about her university classes, her friends, some drama with her coworker at her part-time job, and something about a stingy professor. She has such a nice voice. She talks well. She's charming. She's exactly your type and exactly someone you should realistically be paying attention to.

But your brain refuses to cooperate.

Everything she says reminds you what Seoyeon would've said instead. Every bite of food feels like something that should've been shared with someone else. You pick yours up as Yooyeon picks hers. Before you can really take a bite, you can hear the bickerings with Seoyeon you just had. 

And you almost choke.

Yooyeon pauses, blinking. "Are you okay?"

You clear your throat. "Sorry, I'm okay. Just the spice."

No spice in sight. Another lie.

She laughs softly and takes a bite. And you? You basically force yourself to chew the memories instead of fries.

As she talks about her favourite books, you catch yourself zoning out — wondering if Seoyeon is chilling at home, if she has fallen asleep immediately, if she’s still thinking about your conversation in the PC bang, if she’s still annoyed you almost didn’t show her your phone. You take another sip of soda, and it tastes wrong. So wrong. Because she’s not here complaining it's too flat. It’s just Yooyeon that is still talking, and you smile because she deserves it. She’s kind. She’s giving you genuine interest. She’s trying. She’s deadass gorgeous.

You should be falling for the girl in front of you. She’s literally your type. But instead, your heart keeps reaching for the one who already left.

The worst part of you is that…you just want to finish this date to see her again.

-

By the time you walk Yooyeon back to the station and wave goodbye, your leg immediately runs. You don’t even pretend to scroll or check your phone as usual. Your muscle tense, and your chest tight with something that feels far too close to panic. The city lights are warm and blurry around the edges, the noise of traffic melting into white noise. Every step feels like you’re chasing a shadow.

But you are too busy beating yourself up. You don’t know her number. Nor her address. Nor her favourite food as peace offering.

Yet you know exactly, exactly, what her brazen laughter sounds like when she’s trying not to show she’s flustered. You know the way her smug smile makes her cheeks even more adorable. And you know how you really, really like her tone when she calls you “Boring Boy”.

And that is more than enough for you to sprint across three districts like a man possessed. You check every place, retracing every step you took with her that feels like years being together. 

First, the convenience store where she bought you x2 Buldak last night. Just empty aisles. LED lights buzzing overhead. A cashier who looks at you weirdly when you double check the ramen aisle. Next, the restaurant you literally just went to with Yooyeon. Beginning to clear out. A family or two comes out. A group of girls. A couple. But no Seoyeon. Then the PC bangs. Just a row of middle schoolers yelling, someone blasting an OST, and zero sundresses in sight. 

Your heartbeat keeps climbing. Every stop tightens your chest. And every failed discovery feels like a punch to your gut. This is so ridiculous. Pathetic. Desperate. But you don’t want to stop. You can’t. Until you know she’s okay.

And then a crucial memory slams into you so clear that you brake yourself: 

“It’s quiet. The sea doesn’t shit talk back. It’s just there,” and then another one, “I like to watch the water when I feel…um, lost, I suppose.”

You finally allow yourself to breathe. Of course. Of course she’d go there, far out. Of course the sea is where she will be. 

Checking your phone for direction, the clock shows 11:30pm.

You take off running again. 

~~

The city slowly thins out the closer you get to the shore. Restaurants replaced by empty storefronts, neon replaced by dim streetlamps humming softly in the wind. 

Your breath grows ragged. Your legs burn like hell. Your lungs ache. But the second you hear the faint crash of waves in the distance, adrenaline hits you all over again. The sand greets you cold and damp beneath your shoes as you arrive. Wind cuts cross your skin as you push forward, scanning the shoreline.

At first, it looks empty. Just a dark stretch of sand. An ocean covered by a veil of night sky. Your small hope begins to flicker out.

And then, far ahead, near the curve of the beach, you see a small shape. Someone sitting alone, knees tucked to her chest, and her head bowed slightly. 

You recognise the white sundress that glows faintly under the moonlight, fluttering around her legs. Her blonde hair spills over her shoulders, moving with the wind.

As you approach closer, with each step sinking into the sand, you notice the plastic convenience-store bag filled with cheap soju bottles and two cans of beer. 

She is far smaller than before. So quiet now. So…uncharacteristic of the girl who dragged you out of your bland life. And It's only at 11:53 PM when your body suddenly realises that…the date, the bet, the rules aren’t relevant anymore.

All you care about is her.

“Yoon Seoyeon!” you reach out, walking closer but not too much. She doesn't turn to face you, just taking a deep sigh that is so unlike her.

“Wow, you knew where to find me…” she says, her voice barely audible with waves softly reaching to the sand, the cold water touching Seoyeon’s feet. “What are you doing here?”

“Finding you —fuck, I’m tired— of course.” You pant, crutching yourself to catch some air.

She doesn’t look at you at first, still looking to the abyss where the sea eats the sky. And then you see it, how she slightly peeks at you, slightly amused. “Did you run?”

“Y-yeah, after the date.”

“So?” She nudges a rock with her toe, her head still tilting down,  “I assume you came here to tell me about the date? I hope you had fun” 

“Honestly?” you admit, scratching the back of your head. “...don’t remember.”

That gets a small laugh out of her.

“So you broke her heart as well?” She snorts. “Didn't expect it from someone who is looking for a relationship, especially not doing it twice”.

“Yeah…I just” You stutter. “I just…couldn't stop thinking about you. I guess.”

And that makes her go still. 

Even from behind, you can see the tension in her spine. How she almost, almost, turns toward you before forcing her gaze back to the horizon. Her fingers dig slightly into the sand by her side.

11:55 PM.

You still have time.

You inhale slowly, lungs tight, heart hammering, and you start rambling. No plan, no filter. Just from the bottom of your heart.

“Before I met you last night, I thought that love was dead, that it was impossible to fall in love with someone, that dates were supposed to be the fancy dinner in candlelights cliche and well…” you let out a small chuckle, flashbacks of the places you shared with her today run in your mind, as you continue. 

“Then I met you and you proved all of them wrong,” that got Seoyeon to turn her head to face you, her expression confused. Yes, but at the same time her eyes tell signs of hope. That you would say what she thinks you will say.

11:56 PM. 

Your pulse kicks harder.

“I mean, no one would be able to just come, insult my love life and still try to prove to me that love exists. No other girl would even consider to start a date in a fucking 24 hour convince store, no one besides…you. ” A small tear shedding from her visible eye as you ramble. And it was the cue for her to rise from her spot, and stand up to look at you. 

That gives you enough courage to get closer.

11:57 PM.

“You showed me how love really is. It's more than just the candlelights and the fancy dinner, it's actually… um…laughing at the silly plays you make during a League game together, it's the damn spicy buldak of 2AM last night, it's the way you ask so many dumb questions that got me grinning.”

You don’t realise how your hand has landed on her shoulder until she notices it. But she doesn’t pull away.

11:58 PM. 

“As much as I hate to believe it, you were right” Your voice softens. “Love is real, and it's about finding the right person to love and well…for me, the right person is you.” You let out a breath you’ve been holding for the whole day before finally say it:

“I love you Yoon Seoyeon”

11:59 PM.

Just on time. Phew.

For a moment, both you just stare at each other, smiling like idiots, her hands finding their way on your waist, fingers curling into your shirt.

“You won the bet.” you admit. but that's when Seoyeon starts to giggle.

“Not yet, boring boy.”

Suddenly you can hear your clock. 12:00 AM. 

And just as fast as time passes, she grabs the collar of your shirt, pulling your face closer while leaning in to let her lips find their place on yours

The first contact is like fireworks are set in your stomach, eyes wide open to how close Seoyeon is to you but eventually you ease into the kiss, closing your eyes while your hands find their place on her cheeks, feeling the texture of her skin in your palm, softly kneading it.

Her lips are warm despite the cold sea breeze, soft but insistent, still the lingering taste of soju she just had and the salt of the ocean air. Her fingers clutch the collar of your shirt so damn tight that the fabric wrinkles against your throat.

You swear the whole world, the whole time, hell, the whole challenge, narrows down to just this — her mouth against yours, the heat curling in your chest, and the electricity that shoots down your spine. The waves still crash behind you, yes, but they’re muted to your ears.

Seoyeon is all you can really focus on.

Eventually she pulls away, your eyes open to see the red on her face as she looks at you with stars in her eyes and you can't lie that those stars may have snuck into your eyes as well, she then lets a cheeky grin that makes her the girl that she is.

The girl that you love. And also taught you how to love.

“You are…so annoying.” she whispers. “You made an adorable girl cry, you know.”

That got a chuckle out of you, as you brush your thumb gently along the edge of her jaw. “You made me run two districts. I’m sure we’re even.”

She huffs a tiny laugh and leans in again, pressing a second kiss to the corner of your mouth. This one is far softer, slower, as if she’s memorising the shape of you.

The third kiss on your lower lip.

And the fourth? She’s smiling at you.

“Now I won the bet” she lets out a cute giggle and for the first time, you beam widely when Seoyeon calls you by her favourite nickname.

“Boring boyfriend.

================================================

Written from 21/10/25 - 15/12/25

You set up an account, you just hope no one you know sees this account, nor sees someone you know as a rental girlfriend. But before you could really explore the application, you fell asleep, maybe you could dream of your ideal girlfriend before you choose one tomorrow.

~one sleep later~

You woke up, it was already 10 AM. No classes since its Christmas break. You walked out of your room, trying to find your mother. Well, the search was over quite fast when you saw the note on the refrigerator.

I’ll be back tonight. - love, mom.

Sitting at the table, you ate breakfast, the food already cold. You again looked at your phone, you always had all applications on organized folders. But you forgot to organize the rental girlfriend app.

Well, to be fair, where would you even put the said application. You never used dating apps. Anyways, you put it in the entertainment folder, because it might amuse you. Corny? Yeah, that sums up your sense of humor.

You scrolled and saw a plethora of girls. And they were all beautiful, mind you. You started to understand why your friend spends his time here a lot. 

“Lots of girls…” You murmured under your breath.

You scrolled, seeing some girls who really look like an ideal type of yours. 

“Kotone? Ooh, a Japanese one too.” You said as you moved on to the next.

“Hmm… Yooyeon? Well, she’s beautiful but that’s an age gap. Would I even imagine dating someone not the same age as me?” Another remark as you moved on to the next.

“Next one, Kaede? Wow, lots of Japanese girls here.” At this point, maybe it's a personality issue, the way you’re talking about random girls like this. But in your defense, if you’re gonna use this app, might as well find the best one, right?

On your next scroll, you’ve been brought to a girl named Yubin. She looks beautiful, maybe the most beautiful that you've ever seen. 

You contemplated for a few minutes. In the end, it never really hurts to try. You pressed continue and you saw lots of details need to be filled in, as if you didn't fill up lots of information before you fell asleep last night.

You had to fill in what time you would request, and a somewhat detailed description on how the date would go. It's a bit nitpicky, and you don't even know if the girl would know about the plan or it would just be for the company to know that the girls aren't being trolled. But, nevertheless, you made it, after an hour of gruesome thinking, that is.

You pressed click, a substantial amount of money out of your bank account. You weren't one of the wealthiest families in Korea, but you'd argue you can buy a building or two if you really wanted one. Also, it's Christmas, the best time to splurge money.

Shortly after that, you received a message that Yubin has confirmed your reservation.

“It's a date then.” You said, finishing up your breakfast as you started wondering on how the date will be tomorrow.

Going back to your room, you turned on your computer. Immediately searching how to handle first dates. Sure, you've had 3 girlfriends before, 2 in high school and 1 during freshman year but this is essentially a blind date.

Also, it's been almost a year and a half now since you had your last date with your last ex, your charisma skills might've gotten rusty, too rusty.

“Flowers always work, right?” You nodded in agreement with yourself.

A short look at your wardrobe, and while you could buy more clothes, maybe jeans and a short-sleeved polo would do. You tried fitting it on. The last time you wore it was a few months ago, and it was evident it's now more fitted on you.

The date you planned was simple, just a get together at the mall. Maybe even buy the girl some clothes since it is Christmas after all. Well, you thought the girls in the app might get many gifts from their clients but it doesn’t hurt to give more, right?

~the first date~

You’re now at the mall, 5 minutes early. Well, it’s better to be early than late. You looked at your phone, and you received a message from Yubin herself, about 10 minutes ago. You read it, it wasn’t really the best of messages.

Yubin: Hello, Y/n! There’s an emergency on my end. I couldn’t come. However, I found a substitute for me. She’s beautiful, higher rated than me, even. I’ve already sent back your money, and don’t worry about her. She said she’ll do this for free. I apologize for the inconvenience. Her name is Chae, long hair and is wearing a gray coat. Let's meet again some other time!

The message read, you sighed, you really wanted to meet her. But I guess you can’t complain, money’s refunded after all. But now you are on an actual blind date. Yubin didn’t leave any details besides her name and what she’s wearing for today. But you digressed. Before you went to the meet up spot though, you ought to buy the flowers you planned.

You don’t know what girls actually like, so you just bought camellias, the one in-season. After that, you started looking for Chae. You wonder what she looks like. Does she resemble Yubin? Or maybe even resembling the girls you passed on in the application? Thoughts flurried inside your mind. In fact, the mystery made it even better. The thrill of not knowing who you’re gonna face.

You tread lightly, the Christmas crowd was crazy but you found your direction to the meet up place. In the vicinity, you saw a long-haired girl standing, looking back. You assume it was Chae.

“Hello? Do you know Yubin?” You asked, not really wanting to ask somewhere along the lines that would expose she’s a rental girlfriend nor would you ask something that would expose you as someone renting one.

She turned around and the moment you saw her face. It was then that you realized you should’ve not downloaded the app at all. That there were bad omens circling around you yet you decided to not listen to it.

“You- Chaeyeon? I- I’m baffled.” You stuttered, her cheeks turning red.

And lo and behold you are now on a date with your ex. It was as if you were just trying to remember what dates you two went to as a plan you sent out to the application.

“Y/n… It’s been a while.” A soft and uncertain voice. Sure, she was quiet but the silence was loud.

The two of you didn't end on good terms. Her soft voice now was the complete opposite of the last time you spoke to her. She shouted at you, screamed at you, berated you with insults.

Well, you couldn't blame her. It was your fault the relationship failed. You got tired, you cheated, you betrayed her.

“I got you a flower, by the way.” You initiated, trying to break the ice.

“A flower on the first date? I remember the same old trick. You still use that to hit on girls?” She sarcastically asked, still taking the flower off of your hands though.

“Mind you, this is the first time I went on a date after we broke up.” You pointed out, a frown still on her face, maybe you should avoid talking about your shared past.

“Anyways… Yubin didn't tell me anything about the date. So, I guess, I'll be in your care.” Chaeyeon bowed.

You took her hand, holding it for the first time ever since that final night.

“What are you doing?” She asked due to your sudden touch.

“We still have a date, y'know? Is there a problem?”

“No, I would’ve expected for you to just call this off.” 

“Well, I wouldn’t want my plan to be ruined. But if you're uncomfortable with this set up. It’s fine as well. I also wouldn’t take it against you and Yubin on the app. I know practices like these have shady businesses. So I’d leave her a good review nonetheless.” You reasoned out, it was a somewhat baseless accusation given you don’t know much of the ins and outs of this particular business field, however, you wouldn’t want any of the people getting hurt now, do you?

Chaeyeon stared at you, “That’s so… out of character for you.” A rather harsh but understandable remark.

“So, should we still go on the date? It’s your call if you’d take a chance with the guy who’s miserable enough to try the application.” You joked, she laughed.

“Oh, in that case, I’m already used to miserable guys. So, where will you take me, Y/n?” She accepted, a smile crept in your face for in your mind the moment you saw her you knew it was over.

“I was thinking of just checking out some clothes. You guys do accept gifts, right? Or is there like any company policy that would forbid you guys from receiving things you guys can use outside the date?” You asked as Chaeyeon shook her head.

“Great! Let’s go to the department store.” Guiding the way. For the first time in almost 19 months, you and her walked side-by-side, hands intertwined.

While walking with Chaeyeon, lots of thoughts came into mind. What if some of your friends see you with her? They'd probably laugh at you. But if some of her friends see this? You might get slapped at.

Eventually, you reached the men's section. Lots of clothes you've never really cared about until now. Usually, your mom is the one that picks your clothes for you but you argued it's time to grow up. By growing up, you mean finding another woman to be dependent on when it comes to your fashion sense.

“So, Chaeyeon, what'd you think would fit me?” You asked, a light chuckle came from her.

“Even until now you still don't know how to pick your own clothes.”

“I- just pick for me, alright? I'm thinking of polos similar to the one I'm wearing now. I mean, this suits me, right?” You gestured as she nodded.

Chaeyeon took a look at the array of clothes. Eventually she found one that she thought you may like. It was green, your favorite color.

“I think this would look great. I also took the next size on your usual size of clothes back then. Because, well, do you need me to say it out loud?” She asked, giggling to herself as you rolled your eyes.

“Very funny, Chaeyeon. But you’re right, I’ve gotten a bit flabbier. Anyways, let’s also get you something nice.” You said, she smiled at you, holding your hand again as she gave you the polo.

After a short walk to the other side, you were now at the women’s section. While the men’s section for some reason had a hardware section adjacent to it, to which you could easily smell wood and metals, the women’s section was adjacent to the section with perfumes, make-up, and other things you have never understood even with your 21 years of living.

“You choose a dress for me, Y/n.” She said, making you look at her.

“Can’t you do that by yourself? Like old times.” You blurted out, so much for not talking about the past.

“I thought it would be nice for you to pick one for me. It’s your treat after all.” Chaeyeon insisted, to which she is right.

Now you’re given a choice. What dress suits her the most. Lots of dresses and one man. This is way harder than your college examinations. It took you a while, taking the dresses one by one off of the rack as you inspected them. At the side, Chaeyeon was smiling, close to laughing as she had never seen you this dumbfounded.

“You’re enjoying this a bit too much, Chaeyeon.” You said, still struggling to pick a dress.

Eventually, you found a white dress that you felt would suit Chaeyeon well. You looked at her, and then back at the dress. It would seem that you like the idea of her in this dress and as a man, you deem that as a fit enough reason.

“I found the perfect dress, Chaeyeon.” You smiled.

“Great! We can head to the counter now.”

“You aren’t gonna try it on? See if it fits?”

“I trust your eye, Y/n. You have a knack at staring and observing girls’ bodies.” Chaeyeon teased, stopping you at your thoughts.

“You’ve become wittier. I like it more when a woman has a lot to say. Anyways, let’s not get off track.” You diverted, making your way to the cashier.

After paying for the clothes, the two of you made your way to the nearby cafe. Most of the talk you had with Chaeyeon now was just small talk. The elephant in the room hasn’t been addressed yet. 

Why is she a rental girlfriend? 

The moment you realized it was her, something within you snapped. She wasn’t your obligation anymore, no. But still, you’re thinking Chaeyeon shouldn't be this desperate for a job, no? But who are you to judge? You aren’t the nicest person ever. In fact, rental girlfriends are just trying to get a job.

The two of you found a vacant table, you gave your orders to the waiter and the two of you stared at each other. For once, dead air. But maybe that’s what the two of you needed. You waited for your cup of coffee, a solid five minutes of silence.

Once your orders arrived, you decided small talk was over.

“Chaeyeon, can I ask something?” You asked, breaking the tense atmosphere, she nodded.

“About Yubin… Well, I know you’re a rental girlfriend based on your answers earlier but… When and how? Does your family know about this? Does Chaewon know? But please don’t answer if you’re uncomfortable.” You dropped, curiosity kills the cat.

“No, it’s fine. I’m actually glad you asked. It’s a long story. I’ve been here for 15 months now. My family doesn’t know, I just tell them I’m working part time in a bookstore. Shortly after we broke up, the family got into debt. Our small business was struggling to make ends meet. Thankfully we’re in a much better position now but Chaewon is now in college too. I have to help my parents fund it. She’s such an intelligent girl, It’d be a waste if she can’t go. And there’s also my personal things too. Y’know, find the right clients and this job pays more than well. And with that, I can easily pay off the things I need to take care of and still have something left for myself.” She explained, you understood. After the two of you broke up, you never really heard from her again. You tried asking her friends how she had been but all you got was angry stares and them telling you off.

“I- I don’t know what to say. I mean, I’m glad you’re safe and all but as we were finding clothes earlier I can’t help but overthink that some clients aren’t the nicest of guys. I hope you haven't had experiences with that.” You replied, it must’ve been the most sincere thing you’ve said this year.

“Well, you’re right with that. There’s some disgusting men I’ve encountered. I really don’t want to talk about it that much. But thanks for the concern.” Chaeyeon forced a smile.

And when it all comes down, you were always the problem, no? You’re the protagonist of the story, an annoying protagonist, mind you. You always had that savior complex, wanting to save the day. Chaeyeon knows it all too well, that suffocating personality of yours when you two were a thing.

“I- Why didn’t you tell me? I could’ve helped you, Chaeyeon.” You said, trying not to tear up. You didn’t know what to feel. The only thing you knew is that learning she had it hard, it felt like it was unfair and that made you angry.

“You were my ex, Y/n. Don’t you know how bad that would’ve sounded if people found out I begged help from you?” She said as she started crying. You grabbed your handkerchief and wiped off her tears.

“I- I’m sorry, I shouldn't have said that. But, it just hurts me hearing that. You’re special to me, Chaeyeon. And I hate that you’ve experienced those things.” You cried out, leaving your seat and sitting beside her to comfort her.

“It’s fine, Y/n. You were always the brash one. I liked that about you, y’know? You were never afraid to voice things out, even if it meant hurting someone’s feelings. But I guess it really does hurt now that I’m at the receiving end of it.” She chuckled, forcing out a smile.

“Chae, I failed as a boyfriend back then. I won’t fail you as a human being now. If you want to cry, cry it all out. The world will judge you no matter what you do anyways. I mean, even me, I was skeptical about this at first. But if I would’ve known I’d meet you here, I would’ve downloaded the app immediately.” You told her as she looked at you, the frown disappearing.

“Thanks, Y/n. I- I guess this wasn’t the date you planned but life works mysteriously, no?”

“It does, and I’m glad it’s with you I got to experience this. So, I’m sorry for everything, for back then, it was so dumb of me.”

“Mhm… For someone as smart as you, you were really dumb back then. Always needing me to keep you in check.” She joked, seeing her go back to her normal self again.

“You’re right, now I still need someone to keep me in check.” You said, making her blush.

“Wh- What does that mean?” She asked.

“Well, I never really dated after we broke up. And I just tried this cause my friends told me to try and it wouldn’t hurt, right?” You said as you looked at your phone, the time you asked for at the planned date is coming to an end.

“You know, we could still talk even if the time of rent passes.” She remarked, noticing the time as well.

“No, you might need to do something later. I shouldn’t take up much of your time. Also, our coffee is almost empty.” You pointed out as the two of you laughed. 

The two of you stood up, trying to catch up more as you offered to bring her home.

As you reached her home, “Here’s payment for today, Chaeyeon.” You brought out the money from your wallet, a hefty sum.

“Oh no! You shouldn’t, Y/n.” She said, declining.

“No, I insist. You gave me your services, of high quality too. Just take it.” You rolled your eyes, she laughed as she finally took the bills from your hand.

“Thank you, Y/n. See you around.”

“No problem, Chase. Hope to see you around and have fun during the holidays.” You said, waving goodbye as you started driving off. The whole car ride was you trying to get your mind off of her but persistently failing.

And now you’re alone again, in your room, trying to think of what’s next for you, what’s next for chaeyeon, what’s next for you two, together.

You stared at your phone, the date was so good you forgot to take pictures or save each other's contacts. To be fair, she probably only has you blocked because of what happened a long time ago.

But staring at your phone, you realized, the application isn’t a one time use. You opened the app, searching for Chaeyeon.

And as soon as you know it,

“This is a message of confirmation from Chaeyeon who agreed to the date. 

Below are the details of the date you’ve given and written:

Name: L/n Y/n

Rental Girlfriend: Kim ChaeyeonDate: December 25, 2025

Where: Same placeWhen: Same timeSpecial requests: Wear the gift, Chaeyeon.

This message is an automated response, not from the girl herself. Please do not forget about this reservation.”