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@yoonguurt

He doesn’t really know who he’s supposed to report to, and walking around aimlessly while trying to find the general office feels intrusive in some way…

so he ends up in the garden.

It’s really more like a small patch of dirt next to the cafeteria, though clearly well-tended to as could be seen by the neat rows of lettuce heads and baby tomatoes that are just only beginning to ripen. Also, the figure currently hunched over the dirtbed with a shovel in hand, and probably the reason behind why a garden so tiny could look so perfectly maintained— you.

“Hi!” Wonpil greets, silently grateful that his voice hadn’t cracked due to his nerves. “I’m the new music teacher that’s supposed to start today…?” He trails off when you don’t turn to him.

Weird. Were you ignoring him? You probably just hadn’t heard him.

He clears his throat. “Um, I’m looking for the general office. Or, if you could direct me to the principal, that’d be great-”

“Mr Kim! There you are!” Another voice sounds, and he turns to see Principal Lee, eyes crinkling behind her glasses as she smiles warmly at him. “My apologies. I should’ve given you directions during our call. Welcome to our school!”

“Ah- thank you.” Wonpil bows his head slightly as he steps towards the lady, but not before glancing over his shoulder to look at you again.

Your back is still turned to him, though standing now as you water the crops. You don’t acknowledge him, nor do you acknowledge the principal— it’s as though you’re alone, and nobody else is there with you.

Strange.

Principal Lee must’ve caught him staring (shamelessly, as he only belatedly realises), when a small ah escapes her lips. She steps towards you, peeking at the side of your face before waving at you gently to get your attention.

That’s when you turn, and—

Oh.

You’re pretty.

Wonpil blinks when the principal starts introducing you. He only barely manages to catch your surname, slightly stunned as he realises that not only is she using her words— she’s also using her hands.

And that’s when everything clicks.

Oh.

That’s why you hadn’t turned when he spoke. It wasn’t because you didn’t hear him— it was because you couldn’t.

“- and this is our new music teacher, Mr. Kim,” Principal Lee says, signing at the same time.

You smile then, and Wonpil swears he could feel his heart leap out of his chest.

One, because he’s flustered, yes— and slightly guilty that a small part of him had assumed you were being rude by ignoring him. Second, he doesn’t know sign language.

At all.

Wonpil bows as he mutters out a hello, only to remember you can’t hear him, so he ends up adding in a small wave for good measure.

If you notice how embarrassing he’s being, you don’t show it.

“I’m really sorry, I didn’t notice you. I don’t have my processors on,” you say while signing, then tapping your ear.

Your gestures are unfamiliar— he’s never had someone talk to him in sign language before— but it’s your words that manage to catch him off-guard, not because they’re unclear, but because they’re even spoken at all. 

And now, Wonpil feels even stupider for not considering it. Of course. Why did he assume you weren’t able to speak?

But it’s different, he realises, the way you form your words. Not in a bad way. Just… softer. More deliberate, like you’re placing them exactly where they need to be. They’re careful in a way that makes him listen a little closer, and Wonpil realises that maybe, this has nothing to do with you being deaf, but everything to do with you.

“It’s okay.” And because his ears are still warm from earlier, he clumsily adds, “I look forward to working with you.”

You nod, the smile not leaving your face as you sign together with your words. “Likewise.”

And for some reason, that gesture sticks with him all the way until he gets home, when he’s sitting in front of his laptop and ready to start crafting his first lesson plan for the term.

Except, Wonpil finds himself opening another Naver tab instead, and before he could stop himself, he types:

how to say hello in sign language

Wonpil finds you in the garden again, this time closer to noon.

The last time he saw you was a few hours ago, during a meeting with the creative committee about an upcoming play that’d be taking place in a few months. It’s something that the school organises annually for the graduating batch, though they’re planning to do something more special this year now that they have a music teacher. He’d learnt during introductions that you’d be in-charge of prop-making, and even though Wonpil doesn’t know you very well, he figures from your paint-stained jeans and crochet cardigan that it made the most sense.

Now, he tilts to look at you, waving his hand in your line of sight the same way he saw Principal Lee did to get your attention. From his research yesterday, he’d learned that tapping a Deaf person on the back without warning could startle them and potentially come off as invasive, and the last thing he wants is to be rude.

You look up when you see him from your peripheral vision, lips settling into your usual smile as you straighten your back. Before you could wave at him, he beats you to it—

Hello.

Your brows raise, before a small laugh tumbles out of your lips.

You hadn’t meant for it to happen, and it wasn’t like you were making fun of him. In fact, he had done it perfectly, if you don’t count the slightly-off placement of his hand near his forehead, and the way his eyebrows furrow like he wasn’t sure if he was doing it right.

Still, you understood him, and the fact that he even tried is… kind of sweet.

Hello, you sign back, and Wonpil laughs in embarrassment as he mirrors you, properly this time. He shifts awkwardly for a while before blurting out a soft oh! under his breath, taking out his phone from his pocket.

I’m Wonpil, he types.

“I still haven’t gotten the hang of signing my name yet,” he says sheepishly, and you nod, seemingly in understanding. He wonders if you could lip-read— not like he’d expect you to do that every time he speaks, of course.

You tell him your name and that it’s nice to see him again.

“I really like your garden.” He points to the dirtbed awkwardly, merely for the sake of having something to say.

You laugh again at that, but Wonpil knows it isn’t mean-spirited.

You open your palm, placing your thumb and middle finger together before tapping your chest lightly twice. “Like this.”

His lips part as he studies your movements, fingers curling as he tries to mimic you.

You step forward, glancing at him as though to ask for his permission, before gently taking his wrist and adjusting his fingers for him.

“There.” You smile. “Like.”

You step back, your lips still tugged upwards, and while Wonpil would like to think (or seriously hope) that he’d managed to school his expression, the sudden skip in his heartbeat clearly means otherwise, and only one thought crosses his head in that moment:

Shit. He’s in trouble.

Wonpil is slowly starting to get used to his new routine.

His classes are spread throughout the week, and since there are only three age groups in the school, his Tuesdays and Fridays are usually left free.

He’d often spend that time in the music room— it’s much easier to plan his classes there as compared to the staff room where it’s noisier. Occasionally, he’d find himself in the library, too— but only if you’re there.

Since the day at the garden, you’d gotten quite close to Wonpil. You believe it’s because his schedules aren’t as tight as the other teachers, though it does make you wonder why he chooses to spend his free time with you.

Even when you’re busy organising bookshelves, he’d still be at his usual table by the window, focused on planning out his lessons on his laptop. Other times, he’d be scribbling something down in his notebook. You’d dared to take a peek once, only to realise it wasn’t words he’d be writing down, but music notes.

You didn’t understand it, of course, since you had no reason to pick up a music module back when you were still in school, but Wonpil was kind enough to teach you the basics. In exchange, he’d ask you how to sign a colour, sometimes even a shape— depending on the material you’d be preparing that day.

It’s like we’re exchanging languages, he’d once written down in his music book for you to read, earning a small laugh from you. He decides that no composition of his could even come close to how lovely that sounded in his ears.

Your language may be silent, but Wonpil thinks it’s beautiful, the same way you find the way he translates feeling into music mesmerising.

The idea for the play had just been confirmed, and Wonpil’s finally able to start composing.

The theme is going to be garden-inspired, following a tiny seed that grows into a flower. Along the way, the seed will make other garden friends, with each of them representing different aspects of life like growth and change.

It’s cute, Wonpil thinks, fitting for six year-olds preparing to enter elementary school. The only problem is… he’s still new to working with children, and composing light, playful music isn’t something he’s done before.

Basically, he hit a dead end before he’s even started.

The piano lets out a series of jumbled notes as Wonpil drops his hands on the keys. He’d been hoping that inspiration would come to him naturally, what more now that he’s in a room full of drawings and colour, but his sudden creative block is making it hard for him to think straight.

Perhaps he should wrap up for the day and sleep on it.

A sudden knock interrupts him from his thoughts, and Wonpil looks up to see you.

You step in tentatively. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah. I’m okay.” He smiles briefly. “Just… brainstorming.” He taps the side of his head.

You nod, peeking at his music book balancing on the lid of the piano. It doesn’t look like he's done much progress— if you count the scribbled-out notes as progress at all.

“Can I ask for your opinion?” Wonpil asks you suddenly, and you raise a brow.

“Of course." You gesture for him to continue.

He picks up his pencil before scribbling down in his book.

The play is garden-themed, and you know the kids better than I do. What do you think the score should sound like?

You laugh. “Wonpil, in case you forgot, I’m Deaf.”

“I know.” He pauses for a moment before scooting to his left, prompting you to sit. You do, and your shoulders brush when you settle next to him.

“Music isn’t just about hearing,” Wonpil tells you slowly, tapping his ear. “It’s also about… feeling.” He signs the last word, one he’d learned from a random YouTube video he watched last night.

He turns back to the piano before hitting a note on the far left— A, if you remember correctly. He does it again, only this time, he brings his other hand to touch the top panel. He looks at you, prompting you to do the same.

He presses the key one more time, and the vibration thrums beneath your fingertips.

A0 is the lowest note on the piano. The vibration is slower. Deeper, he writes in his music book before putting down his pencil, hand skimming to the far right of the keyboard. You feel the vibration again as he presses the key, only this time, it feels different. Lighter, almost.

You laugh, mostly in awe, and he turns to beam at you.

“You feel it, right?”

You nod eagerly. Now you understand why some Deaf people love attending concerts. You’ve personally never been to one, but today it feels like Wonpil’s teaching you things you never knew about yourself. Maybe you’d try it out one day.

His smile drops a fraction. “Can I ask you something?”

You tilt your head, prompting him to continue.

“I don’t know if this is going to come off as rude, so you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to! But I was just curious…” he rambles nervously. “Is there a reason why you don’t wear your processors?”

There’s a pause as you take in his words, before a small giggle escapes your lips. You could see the wariness leave his face, clearly relieved that you hadn’t reacted otherwise, though his cheeks are now painted a faint pink hue, almost like he’s embarrassed.

You try not to dwell on how cute you think he looks, scrunching your nose instead as you sign, too noisy.

Wonpil laughs. That, he understood. You’d taught him that one day when he was telling you about the kids in his nursery class during their first music lesson. Needless to say, managing a bunch of three-year olds by himself was not a walk in the park.

“Anyway," you continue, “why don’t you join me at the garden tomorrow?”

“Oh, garden. That’s a new one,” he utters as he follows your gesture. You notice how Wonpil tends to pick up on your signing despite most of your conversations being verbal, his eyes always trained on your hands like he’s trying to learn even if you weren’t necessarily intending on teaching him.

You don’t think you’ve ever met anyone that keen in learning your language; it’s always been the other way round.

Then again, you don’t think anyone could ever be as sweet as Kim Wonpil.

In an hour, Wonpil’s managed to learn a few new words from you: seed, caterpillar, bee, sunflower.

Granted, it’s difficult to remember all of them perfectly, and he’d often mix up the hand gestures, but you’d laugh it off before gently adjusting his hands for him.

Wonpil totally doesn’t pretend to keep forgetting on purpose just so you’d continue helping him.

Not so bad, right? You beam at him as you pat the soil gently, having just planted a new row of peony roots.

Difficult, he signs with a pout. Your smile grows wider at that.

“There’s a reason why I do music and not this,” he huffs as he rakes the dirt with a gardening fork. “But I guess I did learn a thing or two.”

You nudge his shoulder playfully, and Wonpil stops sulking as he grins back at you. It’s hard to even pretend to be upset when you’re around.

Even now, long after he’s out of the gardening apron you’d loaned him and a pen in hand instead of a trowel, Wonpil can’t seem to stop thinking about earlier. He blames you for that— that gardening session was supposed to give him inspiration, not distract him further! And yet, the rows of music staff in his book still remain empty.

He sighs, mindlessly dragging his pencil across the paper. The random doodle eventually forms into a caterpillar, albeit a crooked one, and Wonpil smiles to himself. You’d shown him how to sign the word earlier— a little crawling motion across your arm— and there was something just so cute and silly about it that he couldn’t help but to laugh as he copied you.

He absently mimics the movement with his pencil, and it ends in a squiggly line right beneath his drawing. It kind of reminds him of a staccato; a set of short, detached notes ascending along the staff-

That’s it.

Wonpil’s eyes widen as he stares at the page, before he pushes his book aside completely. Stretching his fingers, he tentatively presses on some keys, following the staccato rhythm he had gotten earlier. He tweaks the notes as he goes along, but for the most part, he doesn’t think, he just does, until eventually, he ends up with a melody that sounds very much like it could belong in a kids’ musical.

A laugh escapes his lips as he plays the sequence again and again, making sure to write it down in his music book so he doesn’t lose it.

Finally, the first staff is filled. Even if it’s nothing much and he’d probably have to polish it later on, it’s still something, and Wonpil couldn’t wait to show you.

You find Wonpil at the piano in the music room, pencil in one hand, while the other rests idly on the keyboard. He doesn’t notice you standing by the door, too absorbed in scribbling something in the music book balancing on his lap. You can’t help but to smile at the sight. There’s just something so…endearing— and perhaps a little silly— about it; how someone as good-looking as him could also be so nerdy. You don’t mean it in a bad way, of course— you think the passion he has for his craft is admirable, and in the short time that you’ve gotten to know Wonpil, he’s easily one of the loveliest people you’ve ever met.

That probably explains why your heart always feels a little funny whenever you’re around him.

“Oh, you’re here!” Wonpil grins when he notices your presence, wasting no time as he shifts on the piano stool to make space for you. “I have something to show you. I finally figured it out! Ah, I’m speaking too fast, aren’t I? Hold on-”

You reach out to touch his arm just as he’s about to flip to a new page of his music book, nodding at him to signal that you understood. You don’t think he realises it, but he’s always been careful with enunciating his words when talking to you, even if he's practically buzzing.

Wonpil relaxes before he continues, “I finally managed to start on the first song. It’s still a work in progress, but- I wanted to tell you anyway,” he laughs sheepishly, like he’s embarrassed.

He pats the lid of the piano: your usual spot. You place your hand on the wood, and a second later, he starts to play. 

The pulses come in quick taps. Light, almost playful. It reminds you of rubber boots splashing into puddles after a rainy day, or children hopping during a game of hopscotch. You could feel the space between each note, some high, some low, and somehow, even without sound, you understand what he’s trying to show you.

He turns to you when he’s done playing, a boyish grin on his lips before he signs: how did it feel?

And for some reason, that’s the question that completely unravels you.

Because he didn’t ask you how it sounded. He asked you how it felt. And maybe, you’re making it a bigger deal than it should be. He’d probably said it mindlessly and you’re dwelling on it for no reason at all, but neither of that changed the fact that his words had stirred something in you. Something… soft, like a flower that’s just beginning to bloom.

You sign back. I love it.

“Yeah?” Wonpil lets out a breathy chuckle. “See, I was thinking of what you taught me yesterday. The caterpillar.” He flips to a previous page of his book, pointing to a scrawny doodle at the top right of the page. “It inspired me to write this. It’s called a staccato. Where’s my pencil?” He mutters under his breath in the midst of his explaining, searching the fallboard.

You tap his shoulder, splaying your palm upwards in front of him. “Write it here instead.”

Wonpil’s lips part, like he’s taken aback at your request, before he nods, pulling your wrist towards him gently. He traces his index finger on the inside of your hand, spelling out the word. Staccato.

You smile, and when he meets your eyes, he smiles too. It’s only then do you notice how close you are, and the lack of distance between you both causes your heart to stutter.

Just like a staccato.

You expect Wonpil to let go, but he doesn’t, only hesitating slightly before bringing his finger to your palm once more and writing down another word. Thank you.

Your pulse quickens, and now it feels like there's a drum in the middle of your chest, fast and loud.

You wonder if there’s a term for that too.

“Okay, class! Who remembers what song we learnt last week?” Wonpil points to the set of notes written on the whiteboard next to him before capping his marker.

A few hands shoot up, and Wonpil pretends to ponder loudly as he taps on his chin, earning a few giggles from the kids. “Yes, Yijin?”

“Hot Cross Buns!” The boy chirps enthusiastically, the triangle in his hands clinking at the sudden movement.

“That’s right! Good job, Yijin!” Wonpil leans forward to give him a high-five. “Today, we’re going to move on to the second part of the song. But first, can anybody tell me the name of this note?”

You watch from the back of the class with a soft smile on your lips. It’s clear that Wonpil’s gotten more comfortable at teaching now as compared to when he first arrived, especially since the kids love him so much. He’d gone from standing awkwardly at the front of the class to sitting cross-legged with them on the foam mattress on the floor, opting to peruse the small whiteboard on the easel instead of the wall-mounted one behind him. It’s easier to engage with the kids that way, he’d said.

You feel a tug on your sleeve, and you turn to see Sera, one of the quieter kids in his class. You realise that she has her arms reached out to you, a pair of castanets in her hands.

“What’s wrong?” You ask.

“I don’t know how to play,” she mumbles shyly.

You smile, shaking your head as you put your hands over hers. “We’ll play together, okay? I’ll help you.”

The girl nods, your words seeming to calm her down slightly as she scoots closer towards you.

“Now, this one is called a semi-quaver.” Wonpil points to a set of four notes joined together with a line on top. “See how they’re holding hands? This means that they’re really fast— like they’re running a race together! It sounds like this.” He raises his hands to clap a steady beat, like a metronome, before he sounds out the notes with his mouth. And even though you can’t hear him, you’re somehow able to understand.

Ta-ta-ta-ta.

You find yourself mimicking the rhythm, tapping the back of Sera’s palm with your index finger mindlessly. Two semi-quavers make up one regular note, and you realise that what you’re playing feels familiar— a staccato.

There’s another tug on your sleeve. When you look at Sera, she’s already looking at you with a bashful smile, her small hands clicking the castanet according to your tapping.

Your lips part in surprise before they settle into a proud smile. Good job, you sign before patting her head, and the little girl giggles.

In the midst of it all, you don’t notice Wonpil watching you, softly, longingly, like he’s the one on the receiving end of your gesture. He knows he should look away, but he can’t, and even though the classroom is growing increasingly noisier, he thinks the thumping of his heart still remains the loudest.

And somehow, the realisation that he might just be falling for you isn’t as scary as he thought it would be.

With only two months left to the play, both you and Wonpil start to get busier— you with prop-making, and Wonpil with dry runs and rehearsals. Still, in a school this small, it isn’t difficult to cross paths with him, because the garden has somehow turned into an unofficial spot for you to bump into each other in between your respective schedules.

You don’t know if Wonpil is doing it on purpose. It wasn’t like the both of you would intentionally agree to meet up— the garden has always been ‘yours’ even prior to knowing him, and when you’d be there tending to the crops after hours, he’d show up with his messenger bag slung over his torso, like he’s done for the day. And somehow, without fail, he’d end up kneeling beside you on the dirt with his sleeves rolled up to his elbows and a shovel in hand instead of going home.

Sometimes, he’d even be there before you, pacing aimlessly on the grass patch like he’s merely taking in the fresh outside air (though very obviously waiting for someone), only to break out into a wide grin when he sees you, quick to ask you how your day was as he hands you a cup of coffee he’d gotten from the cafeteria.

Even if Wonpil doesn’t realise what he’s doing, you don’t think you mind if it means getting to spend more time with him.

Today is the same, except now, he’s already clad in his apron, kneeling on the dirtbed with his back to you as he tends to the blooming peonies that you’ve planted just a few weeks prior.

“Oh, hi.” Wonpil turns to smile at you when he senses you approaching.

You wave, placing your bag on the grass before moving to join him. “What happened to not having green thumbs?” You ask teasingly.

He shrugs mindlessly. “Figured I’d give you a head start.” He pauses, placing his shovel down to turn to you. You’ve been busy lately. I wanted to help, he explains in broken sign.

Your lips part at that; not out of shock that he was kind enough to go out of his way to help you, but more so the fact that he noticed. It’s been a hectic last couple of weeks, with most of your time being spent in the school hall, making trees out of cardboard and patching up costumes with whatever scrap fabrics you could find in storage. Your days have been ending later and later because of that, today being no different, and even though you’ve grown accustomed to the sight of Wonpil in the garden, you weren’t expecting to see him still here at this hour.

I hope I’m doing this right, Wonpil continues sheepishly, looking almost nervous at your lack of reaction, and completely unaware of the effect he’s left on you.

He’s gotten better at that too, you realised— signing. You’re not sure if this has anything to do with your conversation the other day, but it leaves a certain warmth in your chest nonetheless. You think it’s less about that and mostly to do with Wonpil himself, though. 

Just as he’s about to start rambling again, probably something about his phone lying on the dirt currently playing a YouTube video about planting peonies, you quickly catch his wrist, and Wonpil startles at that.

I appreciate you, you trace the words right above his pulse, the same way he did to you the day in the music room.

Wonpil blinks once, maybe twice, before his lips bloom into a smile, soft and slow, like a flower unfurling in spring. Without a doubt, it’s a sight that’s quietly grown to be your favourite.

After all, you’ve always found blooming flowers to be beautiful.

You’ve never liked wearing your implants.

You’d gotten them when you were younger, and while they helped a lot in school, you also had to deal with headaches often due to all the noise and layered sounds. It wasn’t the most pleasant feeling, but back then, you knew you couldn’t afford to stop wearing them completely no matter how badly you wanted to— because removing them meant not being able to communicate with people. Removing them meant lesser job opportunities.

It wasn’t ideal, but you learnt from a young age that not everyone was willing to accommodate to your needs just because you were a little different, so you had to learn to adapt. Until eventually, you were fortunate enough to land a job with people that accepted you as who you were.

You never saw the need to wear your processors anymore since you started being a teacher’s aide here. The children don’t look at you like someone missing something— to them, you’re just their art teacher. The one who helps them mix colours, who laughs when paint gets on their sleeves.

Sometimes, without meaning to, you’d end up teaching them your language too. Small signs slipped in between lessons, curious hands mimicking yours. You’re not officially teaching it, but the fact that you can, makes this place feel a little more like it was meant for you.

You think that might also be the reason why you feel so comfortable signing with Wonpil— he’s never once pressured you to communicate with him verbally, never made you feel like you were difficult despite the communication barrier. If anything, he’s always been the one to meet you halfway, putting in the effort to learn sign, to slow down whenever he’s speaking, to keep his pencil and music book with him in case he ever needed to write something for you, until eventually, you stopped feeling the need to rely on your voice to talk to him.

Kim Wonpil is too kind, which is why right now, the moment you reach home, the first thing you do is to pull out your cochlear case. 

You’ve been thinking about it for a while, and with the date of the play approaching, you figure you should probably try to get used to your everyday sounds first. That also meant hearing Wonpil’s voice for the first time, and for a moment, you let yourself wonder what he could sound like.

Warm, probably. Gentle. Maybe a little breathy when he laughs due to how big his grins usually get. You’d never be able to get the full picture even with your implants on, that much you knew, but it’s close enough— close enough to be him, and you’d take what you can get.

And suddenly, you feel like the you from many years ago, nervous to start school for fear of being different, only this time, it isn’t the world that feels overwhelming.

It’s how you feel for him.

You carefully drag the last tree into place before you take a step back on the stage, searching the completed set-up for any adjustments.

The assembly hall has always been colourful to begin with, but all the cardboard foliage and felt trees has made the room brighter, in a way.

You feel a sense of pride wash over you. Even though you’ve been involved in the annual play since you started working here, somehow, it feels different this time.

The silence of the hall is interrupted when you hear the doors open, followed by children shuffling in noisily as they sing,

“Line up, line up, one by one!”

You’d forgotten that that’s how things usually work around here; how the teachers would use an instructional song for every task because it made managing the kids a little easier. Even though you haven’t worn your processors in a while, you could recognise the tune of Twinkle Twinkle Little Star as the children sang-

But then, a voice cuts through.

Easy. Light.

That makes you turn around immediately.

“Left foot, right foot, don’t you run-”

The kids follow, some off-beat, some a little too loud, and Wonpil laughs.

That’s when it shifts.

Because even through the distortion, even through the sharpness, the sound spreads warm… and unmistakably his.

As if on cue, Wonpil meets your gaze, his lips instantly blooming into a wide grin as he waves at you, but his smile drops slightly when he notices your ears, almost like he’s confused.

You know he wants to approach you, but his attention is quickly stolen by his students asking him to continue the song. You quickly leave the stage— rehearsal will be starting soon, and you’d be able to catch him later anyway.

It takes a couple of minutes to get the kids ready in formation, even with the help of the other teachers. Wonpil only takes his place at the keyboard when the lights start to dim, and out of instinct, he takes one last glance over his shoulder to look at you, now standing at the back of the hall. In the dark, he can’t really make out your features, but he smiles anyway, though it’s mostly to ward off his own jitters. It’s probably the nerves building up to the actual day of the play which is only a week away from now, but more than that, it’s also the first time he’d be playing the entire production in front of you. And especially now that you’ve got your processors on…

Wonpil isn’t given the time to dwell on that fact before he receives the cue to start, though he knows you’d probably be sitting at the back of his mind regardless.

You always do.

His fingers fly across the keys like he’s practiced for the past couple of months. The stage, though, is anything but controlled.

One of the caterpillar kids is facing the wrong way. A sunflower is waving at an audience who isn’t even there yet, and the line he spent more than five minutes drilling earlier dissolves within seconds.

Still, they keep going, guided more by enthusiasm than timing, and despite the missed cues and uneven steps, there’s something so earnest in the way the kids move, unpolished and real.

Wonpil smiles to himself.

And out of instinct, he glances over again to look at you.

But you’re not there anymore.

He turns back to this keyboard, trying to ignore the worry that’s starting to bloom in his chest. You’re okay, right? Maybe you needed to take something from the classroom? Or the garden. You probably just needed to go to the washroom.

Shit. Wonpil knows he could make up all the excuses he wants, but nothing could stop his uneasiness, because he knows.

He knows how uncomfortable wearing your processors are. He knows how noisy it gets, how you’d get headaches just from trying to process sound alone. He might not know exactly what you go through, but the fact that you don’t wear them on the daily is enough for him to understand.

“Mr. Kim?”

Wonpil blinks out of his thoughts, only to realise everyone is staring at him— including the kids on stage, no longer dancing as they wait for his cue. He looks down to his hands, resting idly on the keys.

“Oh,” he mutters before clearing his throat. “Oh- sorry.”

A giggle sounds on stage. “Teacher Wonpil, you’re silly!”

Despite himself, he chuckles. “Yes. Sorry, everyone!” He calls out, louder. “Shall we take a water break?”

There’s a chorus of agreements as the children skip to their water bottles, and Wonpil gives the teachers an apologetic smile before he excuses himself out of the hall.

That’s exactly where he finds you.

“Hey.”

You look up, lips tugging into a smile, though it doesn’t reach your eyes like it usually does.

Wonpil exhales softly. Are you okay?

You nod. “I just needed some air.”

Your hands are clasped together in front of you, and that’s when he realises— you're no longer wearing both of your processors.

You must’ve noticed his staring. “I… wanted to hear you,” you admit quietly. “I haven’t used these in a while, so my ears haven’t really gotten used to it yet,” you chuckle as you fiddle with the one of the implants in your hands, then looking past his shoulder to peek into the assembly hall. “Shouldn’t you be inside?”

A beat.

“I wanted to see you if you were okay.”

Your lips part at that, as though having not expected his response.

“Wonpil, I-,” you pause, shaking your head as you rephrase your next words. “I’m sorry. You didn’t have to- I didn’t mean to interrupt-”

“Why are you apologising?”

You go quiet.

“It’s not fair,” he continues, frustrated. “It’s not fair that you had to push yourself like that. You shouldn’t have to, given everything you’ve done for the kids.”

Your heart skips at his words.

You’ve never had someone be so… passionate about your comfort.

Still, you chuckle. “I don’t expect the world to cater to me, Wonpil. Seeing the kids happy is what matters most.”

Wonpil’s heart clenches at that— how are you still smiling? After everything?

“But you matter too,” he mutters under his breath.

Your brows shoot up. You’re not sure if you’d heard him correctly, if you'd read his lips properly, and as if reading your mind, carefully, he raises his hands to sign, clearer, this time.

You matter to me.

You haven’t seen Wonpil since the last rehearsal.

With only a few days left to the play, it’s understandable— he’s probably been occupied with practicing with the kids, if not by himself. You know he’s a perfectionist, even for something seemingly simple as a children’s play.

You also haven’t worn your processors since, deciding there’s no use in trying to strain yourself. You’re still on the fence about wearing them on the day itself, but that’ll be a bridge you’d cross when you get to it— regardless, you’re sure you’d enjoy the show either way.

You hum to yourself as you tend to the peonies in the garden. Amidst all the production preparations, you haven’t been in a while, and somewhere along the way, your flowers have finally bloomed fully, petals unfurling in soft shades of pink. You’re suddenly reminded of Wonpil from a few weeks ago, clumsily hovering over the soil, hands too careful for someone who clearly has no idea what he’s doing-

And there you go again. You’re thinking of him. Again.

It’s easy to come to terms with your feelings for Kim Wonpil, but admitting it out loud? Not so much. If anything, the thought of telling him hasn’t even crossed your mind— maybe because things have always been easy for the both of you. Natural, that there’s never been a need for you to question it.

Until now, that is.

Because now that you do, you can’t help but wonder if telling him would change anything. If it’d make things… strange. You do work together, after all.

You decide to file that thought for another time— the sun is setting, and you might get chased out by the security guard if you don’t hurry and pack up.

You step back into the building to fetch your bag you left in the classroom, but your attention is quickly stolen by the fact that the assembly hall lights are still on.

Wonpil doesn’t see you when you stand at the door, his back to you as he sits cross-legged on the floor, fiddling with something in front of him.

You knock once. 

He turns around, slightly startled, before he realises that it’s just you.

“Hi.” He’s slightly breathless as he stands up. “You’re still here?” He asks, a little too quickly.

You tilt your head as you slowly step in. You too, you sign.

Wonpil grins sheepishly. “Yeah. I was just… testing something.” He motions awkwardly to the set-up behind him.

His keyboard sits next to the stage, like it has been for the past few rehearsals, though the lone speaker on the floor— the thing you realise he’s been tampering with earlier— is a new addition you haven’t seen before. You highly doubt it belongs to the school seeing as the hall already has a built-in PA system, so you figure it must belong to Wonpil personally; though you can’t really figure out why he even needs it in the first place.

It’s nothing, he adds, like he knew you were going to ask. Are you leaving already?

You nod.

Okay. Let me… He turns around, clumsily turning off his set-up before picking up his bag. “I’ll walk you to the bus stop.”

A small chuckle escapes your lips, mostly at how weird he’s being, given he’s mixing up both his speech and sign, like he doesn’t know which one to use today. Are you sure you’re okay?

“Yeah! Yeah. Just-” He pauses, switching to his hands. Nervous.

You nod, beaming. You’ll be fine. I know you’ll do great.

Wonpil laughs before muttering under his breath, “that’s not what I’m worried about, though.”

You tilt your head, motioning for him to repeat. You hadn’t caught what he said.

But he only smiles, shaking his head. Nothing.

And he knows you’re unconvinced, but you choose to let it go anyway.

Wonpil exhales a quiet sigh of relief.

That was close.

The seats in the hall are slowly starting to fill with parents, and from his place by the door, Wonpil swallows nervously.

He’s been in a fit of jitters since he woke up this morning— it’s been a while since he last performed in front of a crowd, and even though this is nothing compared to the larger-scale events he’s done in the past, there’s still something so nerve-wracking about trying not to mess up in front of an audience.

Wonpil checks the time. About five more minutes before the doors would close, and he’d have to take his place below the stage, right in front of everybody.

He swallows again.

There’s a tap on his shoulder. He turns around to see you.

You look different today, in a white dress dotted with tiny flowers and a blue wool cardigan in place of your usual tee and jeans. The colours of your outfit sort of matches his, he realises, and before Wonpil could even chide himself for how silly it is to be thinking about that right now— he sees the processors on your ears, peeking out slightly from behind your hair.

You must’ve noticed his staring.

“Hey.” You pat his arm, and his eyes meet yours again. “Don’t worry. I’ll be alright.”

“I-” Wonpil pauses before he shakes his head, switching to his hands. I want to show you something, he clumsily signs.

You tilt your head.

Now?

He nods, glancing over your shoulder to make sure no more parents are arriving before he takes your wrist, leading you inside.

In hindsight, he knows he should’ve asked first— holding your hand like this out of the blue is kind of weird… even if he might not necessarily hate it.

But he’d overthink about that another time. Right now, the both of you stand before one of the chairs in the audience— specifically, the first one in the front row, right behind where his keyboard is set up. You notice your nameplate on the seat immediately, your name scribbled in colourful crayon and framed with crooked flowers. It was from an activity in the younger class you did a few weeks ago, to make one for each teacher as part of their contribution to the play. You’d expected to see it today, of course.

Just… not here.

You smile at him, confused. This isn’t my seat.

Wonpil shrugs as he purses his lips, like he’s trying to hold back a wide smile. I made some changes.

And that’s when you notice it— the same speaker you saw from last week, now tucked beneath your chair, the cable plugged in from its back just long enough to reach Wonpil’s set-up. The circular front presses slightly against one of the chair’s legs, like it’s deliberate. Like… it’s meant to be there.

The lights start to dim.

“I gotta go,” Wonpil mutters before you could say anything. A pause. Wish me luck?

You’re still in the midst of processing everything, processing how he did this for you, but quickly, you reach out for his wrist before he could turn away.

And there, right above his pulse, you trace with your finger,

I’ll be right here.

Just in case he needed reminding.

Wonpil smiles at that, a little pink, before he nods shyly and takes his place in front of you.

You take a sharp breath as you settle in your own seat, your leg resting slightly against the speaker under you. And before you could second-guess yourself, you take off your processors, letting them rest on your lap.

The room falls into silence.

And then— the first note.

You can’t hear it, but it reaches you anyway, the low, steady vibration travelling from the speaker, through your chair, and finally… into you. It goes on continuously, until it turns into a rhythm you can follow.

Just like that, you understand.

Just like that, you don’t feel like you’re missing out on anything at all.

The school has settled into a comfortable quiet this time of night. You didn’t need to hear to know— you could feel it in the way the hallways have dimmed, in the way the air is stiller. Calmer.

It’s gotten colder, too. The leaves of your crops and the petals of your flowers sway softly with the gentle breeze, making you shiver just a little bit. You wrap your cardigan tighter around your frame.

The door swings open, and out steps Wonpil, still catching his breath, hair slightly out of place, energy spilling out of him before he could even utter a word.

“That was- did you- okay, wait, the second part- I think I messed it up a little bit but I don’t think anyone noti-”

He stops mid-sentence when he finally looks at you, properly.

You’re already looking at him, of course, a soft smile playing on your lips.

“Oh,” Wonpil exhales softly. “Oh. Sorry. I forgot. Um.” He raises his arms to prepare to sign, only to shake his head in the end as he steps towards you instead, slowly reaching for your wrist.

The second time that night.

He traces your palm.

You felt it?

You meet his eyes. They seem to glimmer in the moonlight.

You nod. I did.

“That’s a relief,” he exhales, his usual grin making its way back to his lips. “I was so scared it wouldn’t work out. That speaker, I had to drag it from my parents’ studio-”

“Wonpil.”

“Right- my parents’ studio…” He trails off as he attempts to sign the words, but you quickly catch his hands with yours. That gets his attention.

Finally.

You turn his hand slightly, opting to write the words on the inside of his palm, because saying it— even signing it— out loud feels too much for your heart to handle, but after tonight, after everything, you don't think you could keep it in anymore.

I like you.

He blinks.

Once. Then twice.

Like he’s forgotten to do anything else.

Until eventually, he exhales slowly. “Yeah?”

You nod. And because you feel a little braver now, you lift your hands to sign.

A lot.

Finally, he exhales a laugh, somewhere between a mix of disbelief and relief, before shaking his head at himself.

“Gosh, I-” He stops himself. I like you too, he signs, slower this time. Careful. More certain. And then, softer,

I think I have for a while.

And just like that, you understand him— completely, effortlessly, the way you always have.

❑ SMUT WARNINGS: unprotected sex (do not), grinding, praise (f receiving), orgasm denial (both receiving), cum inside, somewhat rough sex (squint, you’ll see it), low-key lovemaking (cause Wonpil is soft for her), oral (f receiving), and I think that’s all. I read over this like three times to make sure but if I missed any, please let me know lol

Wonpil looked up at the sky, the soft grey clouds overhead giving nothing away for what was to come. He let out a deep sigh and looked back down as the light for the crosswalk changed, allowing the pedestrians on either side to cross safely. He followed the small crowd as he walked, continuing on his way. He chose this small town to live in because of its size and population.

He used to live in a bustling metropolis but realized that it was too dangerous for him in his current… condition.

Wonpil was a werecat and before you get any ideas, no. He does not turn into that. Unlike a werewolf which becomes a half man, half beast, Wonpil’s cat form is anything but beastly. He turns into an eight pound black house cat. The result of a curse set upon him when he was a child and was bitten by a stray cat that later turned out to be a werecat as well.

A voice brought Wonpil out of his thoughts and he turned his head slightly to see two middle-aged women looking at a cluster of papers stapled to a bulletin board, grim looks on their faces as they spoke in hushed tones. “It’s getting worse,” one woman said, to which the other woman shook her head solemnly. “Those poor creatures,” she added before the women continued on their way, giving Wonpil a chance to glance at the paper they had been studying before.

It was a collection of missing cat posters. There had to have been at least a dozen. His eyes wandered over the lost cat posters and mentions of various rewards for their safe return only Wonpil knew there would be no happy reunions. Not this time of the year. He forced himself to turn away, trying not to think of what had become of the unfortunate felines.

Halloween was barely a week away and coincidentally, so was the full moon. Wonpil’s werecat curse meant that his transformations were to start tonight. The week leading up to any full moon meant that was a week where each night after sunset, Wonpil would be forced to turn into a cat. He’d been through hundreds of transformations at this point in his life so it was all very routine.

A chorus of caws sounded overhead and Wonpil looked up to see a few ravens flying in circles and one perched on a street light. He watched as the perched bird looked down at him and made eye contact. He felt strange. As if he wasn’t looking at a bird but that was preposterous. Of course he was looking at a bird. What else would it be? He turned away and hurried down the sidewalk, pushing this strange encounter from his mind.

Finally reaching his home, Wonpil let himself into the condo, closing and locking the door behind him as he hurried into his kitchen to deposit his groceries. Shrugging off his coat, he moved to hang it up in the hall closet before returning to put away his food.

While restocking his pantry, a sharp tap on the window caught his attention and he spun around to see a raven sitting on the window sill outside his window. It peered in at him and Wonpil felt as if it was staring at him. He slowly moved closer to examine the bird closely but was startled when it tapped its beak sharply against the glass before letting out a series of caws.

Wonpil reached the window and opened it. The raven sat still, looking around and then up at him before hopping inside. Wonpil stared cautiously at the corvid, wondering why it was behaving so weird. Its gaze met his and it let out a shrill caw, ruffling its feathers. Wonpil felt a shiver run up his spine and he grabbed a nearby dish towel and began to shoo the bird away, flapping the towel at it.

The raven cawed at him, backing up as he waved the towel at it. Once it had stepped outside the window, Wonpil hurried and slammed it shut, turning the lock for good measure. The raven sat still, watching him indignantly through the glass pane. Wonpil untied the tied backs and let the curtains fall, covering the window and putting the bird out of his mind.

Once his groceries were put away, Wonpil made himself a quick snack, checking the clock and seeing he only had an half an hour left before his first transformation. He closed all the curtains in his home, checked that all doors and windows were closed and locked before sitting down on the couch to watch some television. Checking his watch, he saw it was almost time and undid the watch before setting it aside and turning off the TV. The old grandfather clock in the hallway started chiming as the hour hand hit the 7 and Wonpil took a deep breath.

He felt his body heat up, a tell tale sign of his impending transformation. He slowly got to his feet as his heart race accelerated, his breathing growing unsteady as he attempted to gain control over himself. His face began to itch as whiskers attempted to pierce their way out of his skin. He resisted the urge to scratch as his entire body started to heat up to an unbearable temperature.

He let out a low groan as he felt his anatomy shift, his plantigrade feet turning into digitigrade as he hurriedly untied and kicked off his shoes. Cracking and the sounds of bones popping could be heard as his bone structure literally rearranged itself and black fur started to grow quickly out of his skin, his body started to shrink as he transformed. He felt his canines erupt, growing in length.

His clothes no longer fit him as he dropped to his hands and knees, dropping his head low as he endured the slight pain of a tail growing from the end of his spine and his ears started to elongate and rise above his head. Still shrinking, he disappeared inside his shirt, his senses overwhelmed, Wonpil fell onto his side and just as quickly as it started, it was over. He sat up, aware that his body was no longer human. He pawed his way out of the shirt until he was free. Everything around him in his home was much larger now. He looked around before stretching, reaching his paws out in front of him.

Once stretched, Wonpil trotted over to the fireplace, hopping on the recliner next to it and then jumping onto the mantle to get a good look at himself in the mirror. He looked like he always did. A black cat with yellow eyes. A distant sound caught his attention and he flicked his ears backwards to listen. A rustling in the bushes outside his home. He hopped down from the mantle and made his way over to the front door. He meowed loudly, scratching at the wood before a sound from the bushes in the back garden caught his attention. He turned quickly, his eyes catching sight of the cat flap.

He trotted over to it and pushed through to find it was unlocked. He entered the back garden and sat on the stone steps. Peering overhead, he saw the moon and stared at it. ‘Stupid rock.’ Wonpil felt the breeze blow through his fur and a scent caught his attention. He heard rustling again and made his way to the bush to investigate. If he was lucky, maybe he’d find some dinner.

Peering inside the bush turned out to be useless as whatever was there was gone already so instead, he made his way over to his garden gate and slipped between the bars. He headed out into the night, following his instincts and his nose. A raven screamed at him from a stop sign and Wonpil arched his back, his hair standing on end in an attempt to make himself look bigger. Scarier.

The raven ruffled its feathers and took to the sky, letting out a cacophony of caws and shrieks before it flew off into the night. ‘What does that bird want?’ Wonpil asked himself as he stared after the corvid before he pushed it from his mind and continued on his way. He was starting to get hungry.

He walked and walked until he reached the town park that was settled into a cut out from the forest on the edge of town. Wonpil made his way into the park, hoping to find a mouse or something to sate his appetite. He was walking along when he came across something he hoped he’d never see whilst in his cat form. A group of teenage boys in the park at night.

Hoping the kids hadn’t seen him, he tried to sneak away but one of the boys yelled out. “Oi! Look!” he said, pointing Wonpil out. The boys immediately gave chase as Wonpil tried to get away, his sound of his paws inaudible over the sound of his heart beat. ‘Where’s the exit?’ he asked himself as he tried to flee but it was no use. He made a wrong turn and found himself in a dead end. He turned around to head back and maybe find a nice tree to climb but found his path blocked.

“I found him!” one of the boys called to his friends. Arching his back and flattening his ears, Wonpil let out a growl as the boys advanced on him. “Look at the scaredy cat,” one boy taunted while another searched the path for a handful of rocks. The boys then took turns tossing the stones at Wonpil, not trying to hit him but enough to scare him. He let out a loud yowl when one rock actually bounced off the path and hit him. The boys just laughed and continued to torment him.

‘I have to find a way out!’ Wonpil thought to himself, his eyes scanning the scene and trying to find an opening. Another rock came flying and hit him in the eye. He let out a shriek, blinded by the attack. The leader of the gang advanced on him, a sickening grin on his face. Wonpil hissed at him, following it with a series of growls. The leader only laughed and reached for him. Wonpil struck, slashing at him with his claws and injuring the kid who promptly let out a howl of pain. Wonpil took this moment of confusion among the boys to run but was grabbed by the scruff of his neck and lifted off the ground.

He hissed and growled and scratched but it was no use. He was caught. The leader of the gang glared at him. “Stupid cat!” he yelled. “Think you can scratch me and get away with it?” he said. He reached out to grab Wonpil but stopped when a soft voice called out.

“What is going on?” The boys glanced over. Wonpil too looked over to see a young woman standing at the end of the path, her large eyes looking curiously at the group. Her eyes caught sight of the cat and she immediately knew what was going on. “Stay out of this, lady!” one of the bigger boys warned.

The woman advanced on the group. “Let that poor cat go,” she said softly. The boys just laughed at her request. The woman was not smiling. “I said,” she stated, advancing slowly on the group. “Let. That. Cat. Go.” She stood only feet from the group now and Wonpil was worried she might get hurt. She was outnumbered. The boys just laughed again. “Go home, bitch,” one of the boys said. The woman smiled this time. “Oh,” she said softly. “So close,” she added before raising her hands to the side slowly.

The boys watched as a light started to emit from her. Wonpil watched the way her hair moved in the wind, her eyes shut as she started to glow brighter and brighter until she opened her eyes and what Wonpil saw next shocked him. Her eyes were white and glowing. The light emitting from her started to pulsate, slowly at first before becoming faster and faster.

“What the-” one of the boys started but couldn’t finish as a large pulse of light hit the group and knocked them back into the bushes. Wonpil thought he would be thrown with them but instead, he remained stationary in the air. He was floating where he had been previously held. He looked up to see the woman return to normal before she walked over to him, pulling the shawl she was wearing off and wrapping him in it and cradling him close. “Come on, little one,” she whispered and turned to head deeper into the park. Wonpil watched as the trees grew denser and denser before he passed out.

When he woke up the next morning, Wonpil was extremely aware of the fact he was not in his home. He rolled onto his back and stared up at the unfamiliar ceiling. He was lying in a bed that was not his, wearing clothes that were not his own. He sat up quickly and glanced around, taking in his surroundings.

As if on cue, footsteps sounded from down the hallway, making their way to the door to the room he was in. Wonpil tensed up, fearing the worst but the door swung open and he was pleasantly surprised to see a very beautiful young woman standing before him. She gave him a kind smile, a tray in her hands.

She entered the room and set the tray on the bed next to Wonpil before standing up straight and walking over to the window, pulling back one of the curtains to throw the room into the dim light of the sunrise. “Good morning,” she said in a soft tone. Wonpil couldn’t help but feel safe in her presence and all apprehension washed away as he realized how hungry he was. He started to dig into his breakfast, stealing occasional glances at the woman. 

A memory flashed before him of the night before. That same kind smile, being wrapped and cradled like a babe in her shawl, and the forest growing denser before he blacked out. Wonpil swallowed his pancakes and looked at the woman. “Uh,” he began, uncertain of what to say. “ The woman spoke before he could. “What is your name?” she asked. Wonpil scratched the back of his neck nervously.

The way he seemed nervous around you made you want to smile, stifling a chuckle as he shyly rubbed the back of his neck. As you studied him, he finally spoke, drawing you from your thoughts.

“Uh, Wonpil,” he replied. “My name is Kim Wonpil.” You smiled at him. “It’s nice to meet you, Kim Wonpil. My name is Y/N,” you said, giving a slight bow of your head. “Nice to meet you, too,” Wonpil replied. ‘I guess,’ he added in his head. He started eating again before a question forced its way out of him. “Are you a witch?” he asked. You smiled and nodded again. “I am,” you admitted.

“And what about you?” you asked, tilting your head to the side. Wonpil looked at you with wide eyes. “M-me? Oh no, no,” he said, chuckling. “I’m not a witch,” he added. A smile spread across your face, concealing a giggle. “No, I know that,” you replied. “What I meant was, how long have you been a werecat?” Wonpil choked on his orange juice and you flicked your finger, allowing the juice to go smoothly down his throat.

“I- I’m n-not-- I m-mean, h-how did you-?” he sputtered. You held up your hand, silencing him effortlessly. “I know you’re a werecat simply because one, you don’t move and behave like a normal cat and two, I watched you transform back into a human last night.” 

Wonpil suddenly felt very self conscious. You had seen him naked! Seemingly sensing what he was thinking, you smiled again. 

“Don’t worry,” you said reassuringly, catching Wonpil’s attention. “I didn’t touch or look at you,” you added. “I’m a witch.” Wonpil nodded slowly. “So you didn’t see?” he asked, glancing down at his lap before looking back up to meet your gaze. You gave a mischievous grin before shaking your head. 

“No, I didn’t see anything,” you finally replied, which made Wonpil feel infinitely better. The last thing he needed was an extremely gorgeous witch seeing his… assets.

“So,” Wonpil said, earning your undivided attention. 

“Have you lived in town long?” he asked. 

You smiled, thinking purposefully before speaking. “I have,” you answered. Wonpil thought this response odd considering the amount of time you thought about it before answering but before he could ask, he caught a glimpse of a clock and saw the time. “Oh my goodness!” he shouted, scrambling out of the bed. “I’m going to be late!” he added, rushing towards the door.

He stopped and turned to face you, finding that you hadn’t moved from your seat by the window. 

“Thank you for last night,” he said softly. You smiled knowingly. “Of course,” you replied. “Feel free to come here any time,” you added. Wonpil smiled at you before rushing out of her front door. Once outside in the forest, he realized just exactly how deep in the woods he was. He ran down the path stopping to glance back at the tiny cottage nestled in a thick patch of trees and boulders.

He continued to run and run until he was out of the woods, literally, and back in town. He made his way hastily to his home and let himself in through the backdoor using his garden key. Once inside, he hurried to his bathroom and took a boiling hot shower to scrub away the dirt from his feet from running through the woods. He cleaned himself and got out of the shower, shutting off the hot water.

Once he had wrapped a towel around his waist, he glanced in the foggy mirror and checked out his reflection. His eye had a small cut underneath on his unlid but he could see just fine. The Witch no doubt cleaned his wounds and took care of him while he was passed out. 

Wonpil finished drying off and got changed before heading out of his house and hurrying down the street to the bookshop where he worked. He entered through the back door, apologizing profusely to his boss who waved him off. “It’s not like we’re busy,” his boss said in a monotone voice from his office. Wonpil put on his apron, tying it on and making sure he had his necessary materials in the pockets.

Once behind the counter, he went to work counting the till and setting up his station. It was a part-time job, but the owner paid well and it was quiet. The work was tedious at times but Wonpil didn’t mind. It allowed him to read new books all the time and it was off the main road so it was never busy.

Work went by slowly at first while Wonpil cleaned the shelves and reorganized the books at the front counter. He took pride in his work, even if it wasn’t much and the owner did truly appreciate the hard work and dedication Wonpil put into the job.

Wonpil was immersed in a fantasy book behind the counter when he heard the office door close. “I’m going to run down to the bakery and pick up lunch. Do you want anything?” his boss asked. “Just a bagel and coffee,” Wonpil replied softly. “Strawberry cream cheese and a latte?” his boss asked with a half smile. Wonpil nodded and without another word, the owner left the shop to Wonpil who returned to his book, eager to see what was going to happen to the protagonist and his friends.

What felt like seconds but was more like several minutes passed when the door opened again. Wonpil knew it was too soon for his boss to be back, so he marked his place in the book and set it aside. He looked up to see a familiar face entering the shop.

“Y/N?” he asked. You looked genuinely surprised to see him there and gave him a warm smile. “So this is what you were late for?” you asked, a hint of amusement in your voice. Wonpil nodded. “Y-yes. I work here,” he said, realizing how stupid he sounded only seconds later. ‘Of course she knows you work here, idiot,’ he told himself. Luckily, you seemed amused but said nothing more before walking away from the door and started perusing the shelves. 

“C-can I help you find something?” Wonpil inquired nervously. His cheeks burned as you poked your head out from behind one of the shelves. “No,” you replied playfully. Wonpil watched as you continued to shop, making your way through the sections. You passed the sections one by one; fiction, non-fiction, history, young adult, until you were nearly at the back of the shop in a section that was extremely fitting to your nature.

Occult.

“Do you need help with anything?” Wonpil asked from his place behind the counter. You turned to flash him a bright smile. “No, I've got it,” Wonpil watched as you pulled down books, opened them only to browse a few pages before snapping them shut and placing them back on the shelf. He continued watching as you repeated this numerous times before he hurried out from behind the counter and over to where you stood. He cleared his throat softly. 

“Were you looking for something specific?”

You turned and smiled at him. “Something? No,” you replied. “But someone?” you asked, slowly advancing on him, forcing him to back up until the backs of his knees hit the couch positioned out of sight of the door. Wonpil glanced down at the couch quickly and back up at you as you placed a hand on his chest and pushed him down onto the sofa. You climbed onto his lap and Wonpil felt his face burn as it started to redden. “Uh,” he whispered. “I-I don’t think this is a good idea.”

You smiled at him, reaching up to cup his cheeks softly. “What’s not a good idea?” you asked softly. Wonpil couldn’t find the right words to explain why he thought you straddling him in the occult section of the bookstore he worked at was a good idea because all he could think of at the moment was the feeling of your-

A loud ringing brought him out of his trance and he saw that you were still standing by the shelf you’d been at earlier. Wonpil quickly got up and hurried up to greet whomever came into the store. A mother and her young children asked him where the children’s section was and Wonpil pointed them in the right direction before slipping behind the counter, trying to hide the growing problem in his pants. Thankfully his apron did a pretty good job of that on its own.

He glanced up as the mother and her children returned quickly, having found exactly what they were looking for. Wonpil rang their order up and told the mother her total. As she pulled the notes out of her wallet, Wonpil noticed you walking up to the counter, a rather large book in your arms. Upon meeting his gaze, you gave him a mischievous smile as you got in line behind the mother. 

The mother paid in exact change and took her bag. “Thank you for coming in!” Wonpil said as they left the store, leaving him alone once again with you, the Witch.

“Did you find what you were looking for?” he asked quietly. You set the book in your arms on the counter just as the door opened again and Wonpil looked up to see his boss had returned with a bag from the bakery and two cups of coffee. “No one robbed the place?” his boss asked jokingly as he walked past, smiling at you and offering a “good afternoon,” as he did. You returned his greeting before looking at Wonpil as his boss disappeared into his office.

Wonpil glanced down at the book and felt his blood run cold. ‘Lycanthropy and its Many Different Forms.’ He looked up at you, noticing the wide, teasing smile on your face now. “This isn’t funny,” he hissed. Your smile didn’t falter. “Could you please ring me up? I have places to be,” you asked politely. 

Wonpil hesitantly grabbed the book and started to ring you up, punching in the numbers. “Unless you’d like me to stay so we can play on that couch in the occult section,” he heard you whisper in a low, seductive tone. Wonpil’s eyes snapped up to meet yours, his suspicions confirmed.

So he hadn’t imagined that. It had actually happened. Your smile widened. “Come by after your shift and I’ll take care of that,” you added, leaning onto the counter and glancing down at his apron. Wonpil set the book back down, telling you your total, if only to get you out of the shop faster. The longer you lingered, the harder it became to hide his body’s reaction. Wordlessly, you handed him a note and he gave her back her change. 

“Thank you and have a nice day,” Wonpil said, trying to convey that this meeting was over. You shrugged. “You know where to find me if you change your mind,” you said, your voice cheerful, before walking to the door, opening it with a ring of the bell and stepping out onto the sidewalk. 

Wonpil watched you through the window until you disappeared down the sidewalk before he let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. He heard a door open and he glanced over as his boss appeared, walking over and setting a small paper sack and a latte on the counter for him. Wonpil thanked him and picked up his beverage, taking a sip and then opening the paper sack to dig into his bagel.

The rest of his shift passed without incident and Wonpil left early at the insistence of his boss, giving him just enough time to get home and prepare to transform again. He was walking down the sidewalk past the park when he noticed the kids from last night loitering around the entrance of the park. He felt his blood boil as he glared at them, particularly the leader.

“Hey!” Wonpil shouted when he was close enough and the kids all looked at him, confusion written on their faces. “What do you want?” the leader asked as Wonpil approached them. Wonpil didn’t stop until he was in the leader’s face. “You think it’s funny to attack and torture cats? Is it fun to hurt innocent animals for no reason?” he asked in a low tone. The kids looked at him, eyes wide with shock.

“N-no,” the leader said softly as Wonpil advanced on him, clearly much older and bigger than the bully. “Then pick on someone your own size from now on or the Witch in the woods will get you,” he barked. He glanced around before adding, “ALL of you.” He then continued on, knocking past the kids and heading for his home, a sense of justice blanketing him.

Once he was inside the safety of his home. He locked the doors and this time remembered to latch the catflap. While he was preparing for his evening, a thought crossed his mind. ‘You know where to find me if you change your mind.’ Your words rang in his mind and he found himself unlatching the catflap. ‘It’s not because I want to sleep with her,’ he told himself. ‘I just felt safe in her cottage.’

Though deep down, he knew it was partly because he actually did want to sleep with you,

Wonpil’s transformation that night was the same as it had been the night before. Once he freed himself from his now too large shirt, he headed for the catflap and out into the night. He took extra care, making sure no bullies were around as he headed into the park and ran to the forest, making his way to the path that would lead him to the Witch’s house. He trotted along the path until the familiar cottage came into view. Outside in the garden, he saw your figure as you went about your business. 

He slowly approached until he was at the edge of her garden. He saw you tense up and turn slowly. When your eyes caught sight of him, Wonpil saw your shoulders visibly relax, a smile spreading across your face. 

“You came back,” you said softly as Wonpil made his way over to where you knelt in the dirt. He meowed at you and gently, you reached down to pet him, giving him a few strokes before continuing to dig around in the dirt. Next to where you knelt, a basket sat where Wonpil could see you were putting vegetables. Once you finished, you stood up, grabbing the basket and headed for her door. 

You stopped briefly, turning to Wonpil. “You coming?” you asked.

Wonpil stood and ran over to her door, rushing inside before you headed in, shutting and locking the door behind the both of you. Once inside, you headed to your kitchen and started cleaning the vegetables. Wonpil jumped up into a chair to watch. “Are you just going to watch me all night?” you asked, glancing over your shoulder at the black cat. Wonpil let out another meow in response which made you chuckle. “Alright, then,” you said before going back to your work.

For the rest of the evening, Wonpil watched you work as you finished cleaning the vegetables and put them away to store. He then watched as you took the dried herbs that were hanging in the kitchen and started to grind them up. You looked over at Wonpil who watched you curiously. He hopped up onto the table and walked over to sniff the mortar in your hands. He then looked up at you. 

“You want to know what I’m doing?” you asked curiously. Wonpil meowed again, his only way of saying yes.

“I’m making spells,” you explained as you grabbed a few more herbs and added them to the mortar and started grinding again. “People from the town come to me and ask me for remedies for all sorts of ailments and the like. So I make them natural remedies, or spells, as I call them. You don’t have to be a witch to make spells work,” you added, looking at the cat.

Once you finished fulfilling your orders, you sat down by the fireplace and grabbed your knitting. Wonpil jumped up onto the footrest to watch until you moved your project, patting your lap. Wonpil hesitated before jumping into your lap and curling up while you continued to knit. Wonpil fell asleep only to be woken up as you moved to stand up, cradling him in your arms and carrying him to the bedroom where you set him down at the foot of your bed and moved to change into your nightgown. 

Wonpil shut his eyes in an attempt to give you some privacy but couldn’t help his curiosity and opened one eye where he could see your figure facing away from him, stripped bare. He watched as you grabbed your nightgown and pulled it on over your head, letting the material fall down to the floor. He shut his eye and pretended to be asleep as you turned and got into bed, pulling the covers up to your chin and not long after, the lights went out. 

It didn’t take much longer after for Wonpil to pass out again.

Wonpil continued this routine, spending the night at your cottage before getting up to go to work the next morning then coming back to spend the night again. When you asked him one morning why he kept coming back, he told you it was because he felt safe in your house. He could be himself and not have to worry. Thankfully, you didn’t seem to mind his company either.

After the bookshop encounter, Wonpil noticed that you hadn’t made another pass at him and you stopped teasing him completely. You would never admit it to Wonpil, but his presence made you feel accepted and safe, so you obviously didn’t mind having him in your home.

The days passed and soon, it was the morning of Halloween.

The sound of birds chirping woke Wonpil from his restful state and he wearily opened his eyes. The soft sunlight from the morning passed through the partially open curtains, hitting the floor and the blankets at the foot of the bed. 

Wonpil rolled over, catching a glimpse of you sleeping peacefully beside him. You were even more beautiful in the morning sun than he’d had previously thought.

As he sat up slowly, trying not to disturb your sleep, Wonpil grabbed the pair of sweats resting on the cushioned bench at the end of the bed. He slowly slipped his legs into the pants and stood to pull them up. He heard a soft moan behind him and quickly turned his head to see you were beginning to stir, slowly waking up. He watched as your eyes fluttered open and upon seeing him, your expression immediately softened.

“Good morning,” you murmured. Wonpil smiled shyly at you. “Morning,” he mumbled. His heart raced as you reached out a hand for him and he took it without hesitation, allowing you to pull him back into the bed, settling under the covers next to you and wrapping his arms around your warm figure, pulling you in close.

The two of you sat there for a moment, before you finally spoke, breaking the silence. 

“Do you want breakfast?” you asked, looking up at him, one of your hands gently stroking up and down his bare back. Wonpil shook his head silently, burying his face in your hair. “No,” he said, his voice muffled. You let out a giggle followed immediately by a content sigh. “I just want to stay like this forever,” Wonpil said quietly. He felt you nod. “Me too,” you whispered, your voice soft.

Silence fell between you once more before Wonpil gently kissed the top of your head. You looked up at him again, your eyes meeting before you connected your lips with his in a soft kiss. Pulling back, you studied Wonpil’s expression. Before you could say anything, Wonpil pulled you back in for another kiss. Your hands moved, grabbing Wonpil’s shoulders, as one of your legs moved, hiking up around his waist.

The action startled him at first before it spurred Wonpil on and he responded by rolling onto his back, pulling you as he did so you were now on top of him, straddling his hips. You leaned over, reconnecting your lips in a rushed kiss which Wonpil welcomed. It was as if a fire were lit inside him, an intense burning desire settling deep within him. Wonpil’s hands grabbed the thin material of your nightgown and slowly pushed it up to your waist. 

He knew by now that you didn’t wear underwear to bed and wasn’t surprised to see your naked core pressed against his sweats right above where his cock was starting to harden. Wanting you to feel all of him, Wonpil grabbed your hips and slowly moved them, grinding you against the material of his sweats. You let out a choked moan which further ignited the fire inside the werecat.

Wonpil sat up quickly, pulling the nightgown off of you and throwing it aside, leaving you bare before him. His eyes wandered, taking in your exposed skin, his hands followed, sliding up your side as you sat on him. “God, you’re beautiful,” he whispered, one of his hands sliding over your neck, the other sliding down to grab your thigh. As his eyes swept upward, his hands moved around to the back, smoothing over your skin until he cupped your backside in his hands. 

Your hips moved of their own accord, rubbing against the thick material under you with each movement. Your walls clenched around nothing as your wetness seeped out, starting to coat the front of Wonpil’s sweatpants. He didn’t seem to mind however as he continued to guide your movements.

You whimpered, grinding harder against him, causing Wonpil to let out a choked moan. “D-do that again,” he breathed and you obliged, rubbing harder against him. By then, you could feel his erection through his pants and to say you wanted more was an understatement. 

Without a word, you carefully climbed off him before untying the strings on his sweats and pulling them down and exposing his hard length. 

You continued to pull, discarding his pants in the same manner Wonpil had discarded your nightgown, before straddling him again, this time your wet cunt meeting the smooth skin of his girth and you let out an unrestrained moan, eyes flutter shut as you rolled your hips, rubbing against the underside of his shaft.

Wonpil let out a shaky breath, hands moving up your body, cupping your breast. Your skin was burning under his hands and yet, goosebumps still erupted over your skin under his almost feather light touch.

“I need more,” you whispered, catching him off guard. 

Before Wonpil could say anything, you raised your hips and, grabbing his cock with your hand, you aligned the tip with your entrance before sinking down on him. Wonpil let out a strained groan, having never felt anything quite like it. You didn’t stop until you were filled to the hilt with him. Once he was fully inside you, your movements hesitated as you waited, allowing both of you to adjust to the new feeling. Your body felt like it was on fire. The feeling was indescribable.

“Move,” you heard Wonpil whine, bucking his hips slightly. You did as he asked and slowly started to rock on him, feeling every inch of him rub against your walls. “Fuck,” you hissed, leaning over to rest your hands on his chest and slowly started to roll your hips. A deep moan left Wonpil’s lips as the head of his cock hit deeper inside you than he thought possible. “Ride me,” he urged, his hands grabbing your ass and squeezing, kneading the soft flesh with his fingers.

You didn’t need to be told twice and started lifting your hips and sinking back down on him. 

“You feel so good, shit,” you heard him whimper from under you, his eyes shut. You started to move faster, ignoring the burn settling in your thighs as you bounced on him, the sound of skin against skin filling the room. 

“Fuck, I need more,” Wonpil said before sitting up, startling you with his sudden movements. 

He easily flipped both of you over so you were now on your back. He took over, thrusting into you at a much quicker pace. It would become apparent that at this rate, neither one of you would last long. You let out a loud yelp as Wonpil pushed your thighs further apart, slamming into you.

“Shit,” he gasped. “Am I hurting you?” you heard him ask from above you. You shook your head. 

“No,” you answered. “Please don’t stop.” Your eyes fluttered shut, back arching under him. “F-feels so good.” Wonpil slowed only for a moment as he leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your lips, a contrast to the sinful motions of his hips against yours. You could feel your wetness seep out of you, coating the insides of your thighs and spilling onto sheets beneath you, but you couldn’t find it within you to care at this point. 

All she wanted was him to fuck you mercilessly until you were a mess, screaming his name as if it were the only word you knew. “Wonpil,” you moaned, drawing his attention. The werecat slowed his pace to hear what his lover wanted to say.

“Yes?” he asked softly. 

“Fuck me,” you said softly. Wonpil’s brow furrowed. “Hmm?” Wonpil asked, not sure if he had heard you correctly. Had you just asked him to fuck you? Was that not what he was already doing? Was he not doing enough? Based on your body language and your reactions, he had been under the impression he was doing a pretty good job but maybe that wasn’t the case?

“I said fuck me,” you repeated. Wonpil tried to mask his insecurities with humor. 

“I thought I was already doing that,” he said, the confidence in his voice a screen for how he was feeling underneath, his self-esteem plummeting but the next words out of her mouth stopped his spiral and sent him soaring instead. “I want you fuck me harder,” you clarified, reaching up to comb your fingers through his hair, pushing it off his forehead. “I want you to make me scream,” you added. 

Now understanding what you were saying, Wonpil smirked and wasted no time, throwing your legs over his shoulders before grabbing your hips and pounding into you hard, just like you asked of him. You let out a cry of pleasure at being fucked the way you wanted.

Wonpil felt your nails dig into his bicep as he rocked into you, and he felt he could do better. He could get a louder scream out of you than that, surely. He angled his hips, the head of his cock now hitting your sweet spot and making you scream, back arching as his hips stuttered. 

‘Not yet,’ he told himself as he felt his orgasm impending. ‘I don’t want this to end.’ He slowed his hips to a deep roll, watching your face as your back arched off the sheets, eyes rolling back, and you let out a deep, wanton moan. Focusing more on your reaction to these deep rolls, Wonpil continued his slow, methodical pace until he felt his climax ebb away.

“What are you doing?” you whined, making Wonpil let out a soft chuckle. “I was about to finish,” he said matter-of-factly. “I don’t want this to end just yet,” he added. You opened your mouth to reply but your words fell short when a particularly hard thrust from Wonpil made you squeak instead. You bit into your bottom lip gently, letting your eyes flutter shut once more as the werecat continued to thrust into you sharply.

“Are you close?” you heard your lover ask. Feeling the familiar tension in your abdomen and the heat beginning to spread throughout your body, you nodded. 

“Yes,” you answered, your voice barely above a whisper. “I’m close.” 

Wonpil leaned down, crashing his lips against yours as he continued to rock into you, each stroke of his cock sending shivers of pleasure throughout your body. “Are you gonna come for me?” Wonpil whispered against your lips. With a soft whimper, you nodded, your thighs tightening around his waist as the knot in your stomach tightened unbearably before the tension snapped, your climax hitting you suddenly.

Watching you come undone under him, Wonpil let you ride it out before he chased his own high, thrusting quickly into you until his own release came and he spilled into you with a low, strained groan, painting your walls with his seed. 

His arms shaking, Wonpil allowed himself to rest his head in the crook of your neck, his ragged breathing matching your own as you both tried to regain what little composure you had left.

After a few minutes, Wonpil finally pulled back to look at you, lying beneath him and looking a vision. 

Your hair was a mess under your head, your cheeks flushed and your eyes glossy. There was an obvious post-coital glow to your skin and he swore right then and there that he’d never seen someone look so stunning before, so ethereal. Giving you a small smile, he leaned in once more to press his lips softly against yours in a chaste kiss. 

“How are you feeling?” he asked when the two of you parted, his lips brushing against yours. You smiled back at him, a content sigh leaving your lips. “Honestly?,” you asked, your breathing still heavy. “I feel fucking great,” you continued, one of your hands moving to cup his cheek.

He leaned into your touch, his heart skipping a beat as your thumb gently caressed his cheek. It had been so long since he had allowed himself to be close to anyone like this. To be intimate and open. It was nice, to say the least. 

Opening his eyes, Wonpil was met with the same beautiful creature that had been a moaning mess just a few moments before. After a few moments of staring at one another, basking in the afterglow of your shared pleasure and stealing a few kisses, you finally spoke, breaking the silence.

“Shall we get something to eat?” 

Wonpil nodded. “Sure,” he said, leaning in to kiss her in between his words. “But I have to make a quick trip home and grab a few things,” he added. Your brow furrowed, a small pout gracing your lips, making him chuckle as he leaned in to kiss you again. “I’m coming right back,” he said reassuringly as he nuzzled his nose against yours, smiling as you let out a giggle. 

His lips found yours again and he was surprised, but also not surprised, by how much he really didn’t want to stop kissing you. No one had ever made him feel this way before. He felt like he could finally open up and be himself. He hadn’t allowed himself that since before the curse. He’d spent so much time alone, he forgot how great it felt to be with someone.

Finally, after much insistence on your part, and the sounds of both of your stomachs rumbling, you convinced Wonpil to stay and eat first and then to head to his home and gather whatever he wanted to get. He watched as you got up, eyes wandering your body as you dressed slowly, making a show of it and making him chuckle.

You made your way into the kitchen, opening the wood burning stove to add more firewood. Wonpil watched from the tangle of sheets and blankets that was your bed as you stoked the fire and shut the door, adjusting the airflow so it would start heating up the cooktop.

After a few minutes of watching you work, Wonpil got up, pulling on his sweats and a shirt, walking over to where you stood and stopping behind you, pressing his lips against your head, sighing as you leaned back into him, his arms wrapping around you as you cooked.

Neither one of you said anything but there was no need to. It was as if there was an unspoken understanding between you. Wonpil felt safe even though you knew his secret and he knew yours. Nothing more needed to be said.

Sometime later, Wonpil sat with a mug of coffee in hand, his plate empty, as he watched you work your magic. The sun had finally come up fully, rays of light filtering through the forest canopy and into the windows of your cottage, dancing on the floor and over your belongings.

“Do you work today?” you asked, looking up at Wonpil over the rim of your own mug of coffee. Wonpil shook his head. “I don’t work weekends,” he answered, setting his now empty mug down. “But I really do need to get going,” he continued, glancing up as you pouted at him, making him chuckle again as he got up. “I have a few errands to run,” he added. 

You watched as he got to his feet, stretching his arms over head. Your eyes swept over him, admiring his body as his shirt rode up, exposing his belly button. Wonpil looked down and caught you staring, checking him out. Upon realizing you’d been caught, you tried to hide your smile by busying yourself with your coffee. 

“Do you really have to leave?” she asked, a hint of sadness to your tone. Wonpil smiled, rounding the small two person table, and leaned down, catching your lips in a kiss again. He really loved kissing you. It was becoming one of his favorite things to do.

“Yes,” he replied softly. “But I’ll be right back,” he added. “I promise.”

You nodded, leaning into him as he pressed his forehead against yours gently. “I promise I’m not dashing. I will be back later,” he reassured you before he stood upright and turned to head over to where the bed sat, grabbing his hoodie and then moving to the bench by the front door to slide on his shoes. 

Once he was dressed, he headed back over to where you were still sitting at the table. “Do you want me to grab anything while I’m out?” he asked. You thought only for a moment before shaking your head and smiling up at him. “No,” you answered, reaching up to caress his cheek. He pressed another kiss to your lips before you got up to walk him to the door. 

“Are you sure you don’t need anything?” Wonpil asked again as he grabbed his jacket that hung by the door, pulling it on over his hoodie and watching your face as your eyes followed his movement. Oh how you want to pull him back to your bed, strip him and keep him wrapped up in your sheets.

You shook your head again. “No,” you said, leaning in to kiss him. “Just come back to me,” you whispered against his lips. Wonpil pulled you back in for another deeper kiss, his arm wrapping around your waist and holding you closer. Breaking the kiss, he pressed his lips to your forehead. “Don’t worry,” he murmured, pulling back to meet your gaze. 

“I’ll always come back to you,” he added before stepping out into the cool forest.

The trip home to pack a bag only took a few minutes. Once he was done, he set the bag by the front door and looked around his flat, making sure it was locked and he didn’t forget anything. He had a change of clothes, his toothbrush, and the book he was currently reading. He turned off the lights and grabbed the bag before heading out into the crisp, cool afternoon.

He wasn’t lying when he said he had a few errands. It wasn’t exactly a few though, just one. Wonpil made his way to the post office to check his P.O box. He had all his mail sent there. He didn’t want to risk anyone from his past finding him and it seemed to work swimmingly so far. Once he arrived, he waited in the relatively long line to get into the small office.

While waiting he heard something he hadn’t in years.

“Wonpil?” He turned towards the voice that had spoken and his blood ran cold. “Yeeun?” he asked, his voice shaky. 

Before him stood his older sister. 

She rushed over and immediately enveloped him in a hug. Wonpil froze under her touch. ‘Why is she here?’ he asked himself, trying not to panic. ‘Why now?’ 

Yeeun pulled back and smiled up at him. “Look at you!” she exclaimed, a beaming smile spreading across her face. “My gods, you haven’t changed one bit,” she continued, laughing as she looked him over. Wonpil smiled nervously, looking over at the line and hoping it would move faster and give him a reason to escape his sister. 

“You look good,” she added. Wonpil looked back and could see that although a smile was on her face, it didn’t reach her eyes. Though he really had only himself to blame for that. He was the one who vanished without saying anything. He’d disappeared without a word to his sister or his parents.

For all they knew, he was missing and could have been dead. When they threatened to get the police involved, Wonpil knew he had to set them straight and tell them he was okay. He was safe and healthy and that he was just starting over in a new town. He kept his answers as vague as possible.

He never imagined his family would try to track him down but then again, he’d have done the same thing if it had been his sister or his mother, or his father. So he couldn’t really be that surprised, could he?

Shaking his thoughts from his mind, Wonpil focused on answering her. “Thanks,” he said softly. “What have you been up to?” she asked. Wonpil shrugged. “Just, uh, working,” he said as honestly as possible. “That’s all?” Yeeun asked, staring at him with a skeptical expression. “You’re telling me you ran away from your big fancy job in the city to work here?” she asked. “In this tiny town?”

Wonpil shrugged again. It wasn’t a good excuse and he knew it but in truth, he hadn’t been up to anything. He’d done nothing these last few years except keep a low profile. He never drew attention to himself, never made any friends. The only people he was friendly with were his coworkers and his boss. Even then, those relationships didn’t leave the shop.

Those were strictly professional relationships.

Truthfully, Wonpil had no friends here. Well, he had one now.

His thoughts of you were interrupted by his sister’s voice. “Why did you run away?” 

The question was harmless enough but Wonpil was growing increasingly uncomfortable with the current situation. “I just needed space,” he answered. That wasn’t a lie, he did need space. Sure, he could have communicated that but knowing his family, they wouldn’t have given him the space he needed in the city so the idea of leaving the city, leaving his job, his apartment, his life, and starting over somewhere else, somewhere where no one knew who he was seemed like the right choice.

Yeeun didn’t seem convinced. If anything, his answer only seemed to make her more upset.

“What happened to you?” she asked, an edge of pain to her voice. ‘If only I could tell you,’ Wonpil thought. ‘Things would be so much easier.’ Yeeun approached him, stepping forward only for Wonpil to pull back a step. How could he even begin to answer that question? ‘What was wrong with him?’

He knew the answer but how could he explain in a way that wouldn’t completely out his true nature?

Noticing him pull away, Yeeun smiled sadly at her younger brother. “We used to tell each other everything,” she said. “When did that stop?” It stopped when Wonpil’s life inexplicably changed for the worse. The moment he learned of the curse and of what he was to become. That moment changed everything. 

Wonpil shrugged again. “I don’t know, Yeeun,” he mumbled. “There are just some things we can’t tell each other,” he continued. He could tell his sister wasn’t buying it as Yeeun shook her head. “We’re family, Pil,” she said, reaching out to take his hand. “We’re supposed to trust each other,” she continued. “We’re supposed to share things, no matter how hard they get.” Wonpil recoiled, pulling his hand from hers. He didn’t miss the look of hurt from his rejection on her face. 

“I’m sorry, Yeeun,” he said, taking another step back and trying to put some distance between them. “I don’t know what you want me to tell you. I just..” he trailed off and looked away from her, his eyes noticing the children outside skipping along the sidewalk, many of them dressed for the holiday.

“Are you in some kind of trouble?” Yeeun asked suddenly. ‘Yeah, but not the kind of trouble you’re thinking of.’ Wonpil thought pitifully. “Do you need money or something?” Yeeun continued. “Cause you know mom and dad would—” Wonpil cut her off as he put on a brave face, forcing a smile. “I’m okay, Yeeun,” he said firmly. “Really. There’s no trouble. I just wanted a fresh start.”

His sister still didn’t look convinced, her brow furrowed as she studied his face, his movements.

Wonpil cleared his throat. “And, uh, if you’re here to check on me because mom and dad asked you to, would you just tell them I’m fine. Okay? I’m much better now,” he stated. Yeeun didn’t look convinced, but sensing he wasn’t going to give her the explanation she wanted, she went with it. 

“If you say so,” she finally muttered. “Look, I’m staying at the inn,” she said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. He watched as she opened her purse, pulling out a pen and paper and jotting something down before handing it to him. Wonpil hesitantly took the paper, eyes falling on the numbers scrawled on the surface. “It’s my new number,” she explained. “I’ve got my own plan with my husband,” she continued, causing Wonpil to look up.

‘Married? Yeeun’s married?’ he asked himself. There was clearly a lot he’d missed being away for so long. What else had he missed? Yeeun spoke up, catching his attention. “Let’s go get dinner tonight, my treat. And we can catch up with each other.” Wonpil was considering it. He really had missed a lot of his sister was married. He didn’t even know if she had a boyfriend when he left.

As he was on the verge of accepting, he remembered that tonight was another night of transformation and your face suddenly came to his mind. Your smile and the way you looked as you knitted peacefully in your rocking chair while Wonpil sat close by, watching you with fascination.

Wonpil suddenly shook his head. “I can’t tonight, Yeeun,” he said softly. “I have plans.” Yeeun looked hurt yet again by his rejection, her smile dropping. “And you can’t cancel them?” she asked, the pain in her voice evident now. “I’m your sister, Pil,” she replied. It hurt him to hear her so hurt and to know he was the cause but he knew he couldn’t tonight. Not until the moon was waning.

Wonpil shook his head. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I really can’t.” Yeeun looked defeated. Like she had tried her hardest, only to be blocked at every attempt. Wonpil hated hurting her like this but he knew deep down it was for the best. “Look,” he said, glancing at the door to the post office and back. 

Quickly, he grabbed Yeeun and pulled her into a tight hug. “I’m really sorry for taking off the way I did,” he whispered in her ear. “Life was difficult and I needed a change. I just needed to get away from everything. I promise I’m better now,” he added.

When they parted, he gave Yeeun a genuine smile. “I love you,” he said as he backed away towards the door to the post office. Yeeun returned the smile weakly. “I love you too, Pil,” she answered. As he turned to leave, she called out to him one last time.

“Call mom, okay? She’s really worried about you. After promising he would, Wonpil gave her a parting wave and turned to enter the post office where he busied himself with getting his mail and checking it. He glanced over his shoulder to see if Yeeun was still lurking outside but was relieved to see she had crossed the street and was walking toward the town center.

Once he had sorted through his mail, Wonpil made his way back towards the forest. He checked several times to make sure Yeeun hadn’t doubled back and followed him but he didn’t see any sign of her. Relieved, he headed into the park, following the path that would take him to the cottage in the forest. 

He still couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling he had and checked behind him once more to make sure he wasn’t being followed. He saw nothing and only heard the sounds of children laughing and playing in the park.

Heading deeper into the forest, he came across your cottage and his nerves were put at ease and he walked up to the door and knocked. The door immediately creaked open and Wonpil peered in. You sat in your chair, knitting away just as he pictured. You looked up as he entered, a warm smile spreading across your lips. 

“Did you finish your errands?” you asked, pausing your knitting as he walked over, nodding. He leaned over and kissed the top of your head. “I did,” he added before moving to the foot of the bed, setting his bag down and moving to sit on the footstool in front of her. You glanced up at him, your smile widening. “What?” you asked, noticing the way he just stared at you with a smile on his face. 

Wonpil shook his head and only smiled. “What?” you asked again. Wonpil shrugged, still smiling at you without a word, his leg bouncing slightly as if he was anticipating something. “What are you doing?” you asked, setting your knitting down. Wonpil said nothing, but slid off the footstool, settling between your legs on the floor and smiling up at you. 

You glanced at the clock which told you you had a few more hours before Wonpil’s transformation. Wonpil noticed you looking at the clock and looked back at your face. “What?” he whispered, getting as close as possible. “I was just calculating how much time we have,” you replied. Wonpil watched as you set your knitting fully aside so it was no longer in your lap.

“How much time before what?” he asked playfully. You smiled at him, reaching to caress his cheek. “Before sunset,” you replied. “Oh? And why would you need to do that?” he asked, trying to hide his growing smile. You settled back in your chair. “Oh, just curious,” you retorted as Wonpil’s hands disappeared under your skirt. 

You maintained eye contact as you felt them slide up your legs, his arms pushing the material of your skirt up past your knees. You knew what he was doing and you knew what he would find if he kept moving. You’d planned this after he left. That morning hadn’t been enough for you.

You wanted more. 

Wonpil’s hands went higher, discovering you were, again, not wearing underwear. “Do you even own panties?” he asked, half joking, half serious. “Or do you just never wear them?” His inquiry caused you to bite her bottom lip and giggle. Not waiting for an answer, Wonpil lifted your skirt and disappeared under it, lifting your legs over his shoulders.

You grabbed the fabric of your skirt, pulling it up until Wonpil’s head was free. He grabbed your hips and pulled them forward towards him, licking his lips and glancing up at you. “I hope you have nothing planned for the rest of the afternoon,” he said, his voice low. You shook your head, fingers carding through his dark locks. “Good, Wonpil said softly, lowering his gaze for a moment before looking back up to meet your eyes. “Cause I’m not going to be done for a while.”

You quickly learned he wasn’t kidding when he said that. It indeed took a couple hours for Wonpil to tease and coax you into a writhing, panting, and begging mess before he let her have you orgasm.

Wiping his lips and chin on his sleeve, Wonpil looked up at you, a devilish grin on his face as he could see you knew he wasn’t quite done with you. 

Grabbing your hand and pulling you to your feet, the werecat led you towards the kitchen table. 

Pushing the empty basket and a few scraps of paper to the floor, he turned you around to face the table as you giggled and whispered that there wasn’t much time before he changed. “We have enough time,” he countered. “And in any case, I’m about to explode,” he continued, reaching down to grab fistfuls of your skirt and lift it up until your backside was exposed to him. 

Wonpil pushed you over, pressing your chest to the table as he hurriedly unzipped his jeans and started to push them down past his hips. He took himself in his hand, giving his length a few languid strokes and was about to guide himself inside your warm cunt when there was a sharp knocking at the door. 

The pair of you froze, staring at the wooden door. You glanced back at Wonpil who looked just as shocked as you did. “Are you expecting company?” Wonpil hissed to which you shook your head. “No,” you whispered as he let go of you. Quickly, you stood up straight, throwing your skirt down while Wonpil hurriedly tucked himself back into his pants.

Once the both of you were as composed as could be and the papers and basket picked up, you moved to unlock and pulled open the door. Wonpil heard you converse with someone outside but couldn’t hear who it was. He watched as you turned to look at Wonpil in shock before turning to speak to the visitor once more. She opened the door fully and in walked a face Wonpil had seen hours earlier.

“Yeeun?” he asked, quickly rounding the table and walking over to his sister. She glanced around the interior of the cottage before her eyes settled on him. She rushed to him. “What are you doing here?” Wonpil asked. “I wanted to make sure you were okay,” she replied, again glancing around the cottage, her eyes reaching you, offering her a kind smile. “I’m so sorry for intruding like this,” she added.

You shook your head, glancing at Wonpil. “It’s no intrusion,” you replied. Yeeun turned to her brother. “So this is what you meant when you said you had plans you couldn’t cancel?” she asked. Wonpil shook his head. “It’s more complicated than that, Yeeun,” he said. “How?” Yeeun asked, tearing up. “How is it so complicated that you can’t tell me, your sister?” she demanded.

You glanced between the two before looking at the clock. Wonpil caught this out of the corner of his eye. It was getting close. He needed to get Yeeun out of the house and fast. “Look, I can’t explain it right now,” Wonpil said, taking his sister’s hands and speaking directly to her. “But you can’t stay here.”

Yeeun’s eyes widened. “Are you kicking me out?” she asked. Wonpil hummed. “I don’t want to,” he said. “Then don’t! Stop shut me out,” she interrupted. Wonpil glanced at the clock. He had two minutes to get her out of the cottage before he changed. “Look, Yeeun, I can’t explain it right now and I love you, but you need to leave,” he pleaded. Yeeun pulled her hands from his and moved to sit down on the sofa.

“I’m not leaving until you explain why you couldn’t cancel your plans and why I can’t be here,” she said stubbornly as she crossed her arms over her chest. Your eyes widened and you looked from Yeeun to Wonpil as he shook his head and walked over to Yeeun and knelt in front of her.

“Yeeun, please, just trust me,” he said. Yeeun shook her head slowly. “I do trust you, but what are you hiding from me? From mom and dad? What are you so afraid of?” Yeeun asked. Wonpil started to respond but his voice caught in his throat. He glanced at the clock which said the time was 7:01. His eyes widened. You glanced out the back window of your cottage as the last rays of sunlight died, sinking below the horizon. ‘It was too late.’ 

“Yeeun,” he said, standing up and backing away. She stood to follow him but you caught her. “Don’t,” Yeeun said, trying to free herself but you shook her head. “Just trust,” was all you said. Yeeun turned to look at Wonpil who was beginning to change. She watched in horror as her brother transformed right before her, his body twisting and morphing into something not human. He started to shrink, slowly until he disappeared inside his clothes. 

Yeeun’s eyes widened as the clothing moved and a slender black cat shimmied out of the shirt her brother had just been wearing. Yeeun looked from the black cat to you and back. “What the fuck?!” she shrieked. You led her back to the sofa, guiding her to sit down. “Sit here,” you said. “I’ll make some tea.”

A few minutes later, with a cup of tea in hand, you began to explain everything to Yeeun who sat still and listened, hanging onto your every word. Once you had finished, you sat back in your armchair, Wonpil now resting on your lap and you gave him a few pets. Yeeun stared at the cat as it fixed her with its yellow-eyed gaze. She shivered and looked away.

“So my brother turns into a black cat once a month for a week?” she asked. You nodded. “He does,” you replied. Yeeun stared, mouth slightly agape. “Huh,” was all she said before setting the teacup on the coffee table. “Interesting,” she added. “You know, if I hadn’t witnessed it for myself, I’d say you were crazy,” she said leaning back onto the sofa, a soft laugh escaping her. You joined her.

A loud shattering of glass caught both of your attention and you reacted, sitting up quickly while Yeeun yelped. Wonpil jumped down from your lap and ran over to investigate the rock now sitting on the rug. You waved your hand and repaired the window, the glass on the floor flying up and settling back in place as if the window never broke. Yeeun stared in shock before she whispered, “oh I need that in my house.”

Getting up, you walked over and peered out the window where you saw a group of teenage boys outside your home. The same ones who had been tormenting Wonpil the other day. You turned to Yeeun. “Go into the bathroom and lock the door,” you said as you hurried over to the front door, Wonpil hot on your heels. Yeeun did as she was told and got up, rushing to barricade herself in the bathroom. 

You stopped at the door and reached down to pick up Wonpil, setting him on the shelf by the window. “Stay inside, please,” you whispered before opening the door and disappearing outside. He watched through the window as you walked a few yards from your door to face down the gang.

“Look boys,” one of them said. “It’s the Witch in the Woods,” he said mockingly. You said nothing as they continued to taunt and mock you. “You gonna put a curse on us, witchy?” one boy said in a singsong voice. “Oh no, she’s gonna hex us!” another shouted, followed by them all laughing.

One of the boys picked up a rock and hurled it at the house, hitting the same window again. Wonpil’s back arched as he watched the boys advance on his lover. You glanced back at the house and turned back to the boy who had thrown the stone. He held another, tossing it up lazily and catching it again, a smug expression on his face. You sighed softly.

“I just fixed that window,” you said, turning to wave your hand and fix the window again. While you were distracted, the boy threw the rock in his hand at the other window where Wonpil’s cat form could be seen. He jumped out of the way just in time as the glass shattered. You spun around to check to see if Wonpil was injured. When you couldn’t see him in the window, you turned back to the boys, your body heating up quickly as blind rage took over you.

Your eyes rolled back into your head, the whites exposed and started glowing as your whole body lifted a few inches off the ground, the edges of your clothes slowly lifting as if you were weightless. You started to float forward. The boys, unsure if this was a prank or not, looked at each other in panic. Suddenly, you body lurched forward at quick speed until you were mere inches from the boy who had thrown the rock.

Your hand shot out, grabbing him, your fingers tightening around his neck. Your face scrunched up as your rage continued to fuel your actions. “You think it’s funny?” you asked in a deep, guttural voice that Wonpil had never heard before. Your own voice was layered over it, almost as if two people were speaking at once. If Wonpil didn’t know any better, he’d be terrified. 

“You think it’s fun to throw rocks at people’s homes and hurt innocent animals?” The boy stammered out an apology, clawing at your hand around his throat. One of the other boys snuck behind you and picked up another rock, clearly intending to use it to harm.

Wonpil peeked out the window just in time to see another boy throw a rock at you, hitting you in the back of the head. He let out a deep growl and felt his body grow hot. His low cat growl turned into a snarl as he leapt down from the shelf onto the floor of the cottage.

Outside, you could hear a snarling growing louder and louder from inside the cottage. All eyes turned towards the cottage to look as sounds of smashing and tearing could also be heard. A loud roar, like a panther, emitted from the house and as suddenly as it started, the sounds stopped. The forest went deafeningly silent before the front door was splintered apart and a massive humanoid creature covered in black fur clawed its way out of the broken door.

You stared in awe, dropping the boy you held by the throat as the rest of the boys clamored and scrambled away in terror as the monstrous figure advanced on them. It stood almost 7 feet tall, covered in thick black fur that glistened in the moonlight. Large triangular ears stood upright with tufts of fur at the ends. Sharp fangs, covered in saliva were exposed as the creature snarled.

It stood on two legs, claws digging into the dirt. It flexed its fingers, biceps rippling before claws extended from the tips of its fingers. It was a monstrous cat. A true werebeast and a fearsome sight to behold. Your eyes widened as it advanced on the group of terrified teens, a low menacing growl emanating from it.

The boys stared in terror at the beast as it gazed upon them with fierce, glowing, yellow eyes. It stepped forward and let out a roar that shook the ground, the trees rattling and sending owls into the sky with hoots and shrieks of fear. The boys scrambled to hurry away, running as fast as their legs could carry them as they screamed in horror.

You turned your head, glancing towards the path, watching the boys disappear into the dark before you turned to face the beast. It turned to you, no longer snarling as it bent down, in a sort of diminutive pose. You smiled, reaching up to caress the creature’s cheek. 

“So you found your true form,” you said, smiling at it.

Wonpil looked down at you before looking down at himself. He was no longer a house cat but a true werecat. He didn’t know what triggered it, but he knew now that if he needed to, he could protect himself and those he cared about. The sound of birds in the distance signaled that the night had ended. Wonpil shifted slowly back as the sky began to lighten.

You pulled off your shawl and handed it to Wonpil who took it with a whisper of thanks. He tied it around his waist and the pair looked at each other before a crashing sound caught their attention. They both turned to see Yeeun making her way through the wreckage and looked up at them.

“Did I miss all the action?” she called. Wonpil let out a laugh and shook his head as he and you walked back towards the cottage to fill Yeeun in on what went down. “I can’t believe I missed seeing that!” Yeeun said as she Wonpil walked her to the door. She turned to you, pulling you into a tight hug.

“Thank you for taking care of my brother,” she said, smiling, a gesture you returned. “Of course,” you replied. Yeeun turned to Wonpil and pulled him into a hug. “Now that the cat’s out of the bag,” she said and Wonpil groaned, rolling his eyes at the pun. “Don’t be a stranger,” Yeeun added, softly punching her little brother’s shoulder. Wonpil smiled and nodded. “I won’t, but please don’t tell mom and dad.”

Yeeun laughed loudly. 

“Yeah, no thanks. You can have that conversation with them,” she said as she stepped outside into the woods. She waved as she walked away, heading down the path. Wonpil turned to you. He felt a pang of guilt. He’d destroyed the entrance of your cottage, the wood was splintered and there was no way to salvage it. 

Not only that, but your secret was no longer a secret.

Wonpil reached out, gently taking your hand. “So,” he started. “What will you do now?” he asked, watching as you shrugged. “Move, I guess,” you said simply, looking around at the trashed cottage front entrance. “I think that’s all I can do now,” she added. Wonpil nodded. “Where will you go?” he asked.

“Maybe the mountains,” you answered, looking around. “There’s a hidden cabin up there,” you continued as you waved your hand. From under the bed, a couple of suitcases appeared, floating up, opening, and landing on the bed. 

With another wave, your things started packing themselves, clothes and trinkets. With another wave, the bench at the end of your bed moved, the cushion floating off and revealing a trunk. Wonpil followed you as you continued to pack your things. 

Wonpil had accepted you were going to leave but up into the mountains? So far away? Before he could stop himself he spoke.

“What about us?” he asked. He watched as you froze before turning slowly towards him. “What about us?” you repeated. Wonpil shifted nervously. Had he overthought this whole relationship? Were you not as invested in it as he was? Was he just a passing thought to you? As his thoughts spiraled, he decided to ask you a simpler question. 

“What if I came with you?” he asked hesitantly.

You stared at him incredulously and initially, Wonpil thought that you didn’t want him to do that but when you spoke, he realized why you looked so shocked. “Wait,” you started, turning to face him fully. “You’d do that?” you asked. It wasn’t that you didn’t want him, it was that you weren’t sure if he would want to give up his life in town. 

With a smile, Wonpil nodded. “Of course,” he said. “That’s what you do when you love someone,” he admitted. “And I already know I’m falling for you. I’d follow you anywhere.” For a moment you were silent and still before you finally crossed the room to where he stood, throwing yourself into his arms.

Wonpil caught you, holding you just as tightly while you wrapped your arms around his neck. “I’d love it if you came with me,” you muttered into his neck. Relief flooded him with your admission. You wanted him just as much as he wanted you. There was only one decision to make. 

“That settles it,” he said softly, tightening his hold. “ I’m coming with you.”

ONE YEAR LATER

Wonpil reached the steps leading up to the cabin and kicked his boots against the steps to loosen the snow that collected in the treads of his snow boots. He glanced out over the frozen mountain lake, smiling up at the sun that beamed down, offering a small amount of warmth. Once at the door, he unlocked and opened it, stepping inside and taking his hat off. He kicked off his boots and continued further into the cabin to set the bags of groceries he’d gotten from town.

After putting them away, he removed his coat and scarf, tucking it with his gloves in the pockets of his coat before hanging it up in the hall closet. He shut the door and heard soft singing coming from upstairs. He slowly made his way up the steps and into the large room across from the landing where the door was wide open.

Peering in, he saw you sitting in a rocking chair, rocking softly as you sang a lullaby in a language he didn’t know but it was a song he’d heard you sing before. In your arms rested a bundle of blankets. Wonpil quietly walked into the room, making his way over to where you sat. 

Looking up as he approached, you smiled up at him as he reached you before looking back down at the baby fast asleep in your arms. “Has she eaten?” Wonpil asked softly as he leaned down to kiss your cheek before he reached out, gently stroking the sleeping child’s cheek with the back of his finger. You nodded, continuing to sing the lullaby to your baby.

“Have you eaten?” he asked, looking at the smiling mother. You nodded again. “Yes,” you replied just as softly. “But I wouldn’t say no to some hot chocolate,” you added. Wonpil smiled and kissed your forehead. “One hot chocolate, coming right up,” he said before making his way downstairs.

While he heated up the milk on the stove, he stared out into the woods on the backside of their property where he saw several deer trudging through the snow. He heard a door shut softly and the sound of footsteps descending the stairs. He added the chocolate to the milk to melt it as it heated up.

He glanced up as you entered the kitchen and looked around. “Where are the groceries?” you asked. Wonpil looked back down, a smile on his face. “I already put them away,” he said. You gave him a playful glare. “We’re supposed to put them away together,” you reminded him as you walked over, wrapping your arms around his waist and hugging him tightly. 

Wonpil smiled as he continued to make hot chocolate.

A few minutes later, the two of them sat on the covered screened in porch, looking out over the frozen lake and sipping on their hot chocolates from mugs, a large blanket resting on their laps. Wonpil smiled, letting out a chuckle as you nestled into his side, letting out a sigh of content. 

“I love this,” Wonpil whispered, reaching over to pull the blanket up where it had slipped down your lap before taking another sip. “I love you,” you said as you looked up at him and smiled. Wonpil leaned over to kiss your cheek but caught your lips as you turned your head instead, making him laugh.

“I love you, too.”

tonight, he sat by the piano, fingers hovering over the keys but not pressing down. practicing the melody that played inside his head. it was gentle — almost fragile. like something could shatter the moment it would be played out loud.

wonpil used to think that love had to be grand — like fireworks, a love that roared, but the kind that found him was quieter than that.

he met you on an ordinary day. no dramatic collision. no cinematic movement.

you were helping a friend move some equipment into a small performance hall where wonpil had been invited to do a surprise performance.

you weren’t starstruck.

in fact, you did not even recognize him at first.

“you’re blocking the doorway.” you said plainly as you balance a box in your arms.

he stepped aside immediately, apologizing with his soft, dimpled smile.

it was late, when you realized who he was. you shrugged and said “oh! my sister likes your band.”

not “i love your music.” not “can i take a picture?”

just that.

and somehow that made him want to know you more.

your relationship with wonpil didn’t explode into existence.

it unfolded.

coffee after rehearsals.

late-night walks where the both of you talked about everything except his career.

long conversations about fear — with yours being not enough and his of being too much.

wonpil had always felt like a collection of mismatched pieces.

the sensitive one.

the emotional one.

the one who cries easily.

the one who felt everything too deeply.

he worried that loving him meant handling all those sharp edges.

one night, the both of you sat by han river. the wind tugging on your hair as wonpil confessed what he rarely says out loud.

“i’m not — easy.” he admitted. making you look at him. “i overthink, i get insecure. sometimes i do not even understand myself.”

you looked at him like he just told you something obvious.

“i know.” you said as you looked back at the river.

your statement startled him. “and?” he asked quietly.

“and i love you anyway.”

he felt his chest tighten.

“you do not want someone simpler?” he pressed “someone who isn’t this — complicated?”

you shook you head, scooting closer making it easy for you to lay your head in his shoulder. “you think you’re broken into pieces.” you said.

“but every piece of you is something i chose.” you continued to speaking.

“the way you hum when you’re nervous. the way your eyes disappear when you laugh. the way you get quiet when you’re hurting but still try to comfort everyone else.” now looking at him directly.

“there’s so much more, wonpil. i love every piece of you. even those you try so hard to hide.”

wonpil did not realize he was already crying not until you wiped a tear rolling down on his cheek.

for someone who lives his life in the spotlight. wonpil struggled with believing that he deserved love that is steady.

you never loved him loudly — the way how he expected love was.

you loved him consistently.

when he doubted his talent.

when he came home exhausted and irritable.

when headlines twisted words he did not mean.

you stayed.

Work had run over later than usual tonight due to a project that you were in charge of. Since you were in charge of it all you had stayed later to fix a problem that had popped up late in the afternoon. Which had left you practically no time to get home, change into pajamas which was mandatory dress code for movie night and then get over to Wonpil’s apartment. You know the boys are going to tease you for the whole night for being late but you knew you’d be able to handle it because you’d get to see Wonpil tonight.

You and Wonpil have been friends for close to five years at this point, both of you having met at a mutual friend’s musical event that had showcased local musicians and their work. The two of you had easily gravitated towards each other once you had realized you both enjoyed the same type of music. From there the two of you quickly learned more about each other and how well you got along.

Being friends with Wonpil was like a warm hug from a loved one, comforting, stabilizing and something that always made your day brighter. So it hadn’t been all that surprising to you when you had realized that you had started to feel something more substantial than friendship for Wonpil. He was such an easy person to get along with and someone you easily and quickly cherished that it made sense that you would fall for him. It just seemed like the next most natural step in your relationship.

You hadn’t told him how you felt yet, work had picked up for you with the new project and he was going on tour soon. You hadn’t wanted to burden him quite yet with your feelings so you had kept them quiet and to yourself for the moment. Plus you wanted to make it special for him, he deserved the extra effort, he had become such an important part of your life that you wanted to make it meaningful to him. So you had planned to tell him once he returned from the tour, which gave you enough time to plan something special.

Suddenly a familiar sign catches your eye and you stop when you see it’s the entrance sign for Wonpil’s apartment complex. You had been so in your head about your feelings for him that you almost missed his apartment complex. You quickly enter the building and wave at the security guard who happily waves back at you. You make it up to Wonpil’s floor without too much issue and knock on his front door before tapping the door code in.

When you enter the apartment you can already hear the boys arguing over what movie to watch. You toe your shoes off before walking down the hallway to the living room. There you spot them all lounging around the room dressed in their pajamas snacking on an array of food. They’re loud, rambunctious and chaotic but they’ve all become your close friends and people you hold dear in your heart all thanks to the man sitting on the couch wrapped up like a human burrito in the warmest looking blanket. Wonpil is mid yawn when he spots you and he perks up like a sunflower catching it’s first rays of sun for the day.

“There she is.” he calls out warmly as he beams at you. When your brain processes what he’s said your heart tumbles heavily within your chest cavity and a flash of heat blooms at the back of your neck before it travels to your face. You beam back at him as you duck your head at how soft he sounds. You don’t know if it’s the actual words that fluster you so badly or if it’s the intention behind the words. What you do know is that he’s effectively and effortlessly captured you and your heart within his grasp.

Young K gasps dramatically at Wonpil’s words before he looks around the room to make sure they all heard the same thing he did. Dowoon looks on proudly as if he knew this was going to happen.

“She’s redder than the popcorn bucket.” Sungjin whispers to the room while the other two nod their heads in agreement.

Wonpil ignores them all as he unwraps the blanket and then reaches out for you with a warm soft smile on his face. You move to him and are easily enveloped into his blanket cocoon with him pressed to your side. His arms wrap tightly around you as your body slid against his and melded with him like you were two puzzle pieces that fit together.

Bouquets = Series | Stems = Oneshots | Seeds = Drabbles | In Shipment = Ongoing

STEMS

Just Flower Shop Things by punksungjin (1.5k) || Flower Shop AU || The mandatory florist!wonpil bc he is so soft and cute. alternatively: everyday wonpil looks forward to seeing his favorite customer, but it has to take a little bit of jealousy to get him to admit he likes them.

Where’s the First Aid Kit? by inyournightmares97 ☆ (1.0k) || Angst, Unrequited Love || Why does my heart hurt?

Are you Asking me Out? by inyournightmares97 ★ (1.0k) || Mafia AU || Get me a good price on those diamonds and you can take me to dinner anywhere you want

A Confession, Of Sorts by jungnoir ★ (4.6k) || Idol AU, Fake Dating || “Why does everyone want to date the drummer? Keyboardists work just as hard, you know!” ⇢ wonpil gets a little drunk after a show and he’s got some choice words for dowoon... and you, his crush.

Sungjin

My goodness, this man would just stop in his tracks as he listens to your so called conversation with “Kyle”🤭. Good thing your back was facing him, otherwise your wide grin would’ve ruined the whole thing. You planned on doing this prank as soon as he gets home from work. Hearing the keys entering the lock and the knob turning, you proceed with the prank. “Haha yeah I remember that... Me? KYLE you’re asking me if I’m free tomorrow?” Being the protective boyfriend he is, Sungjin starts to get a little mad, “Alright I’ve had enough of this.” he murmured. Walking over to you, Sungjin lightly taps your shoulder and motions his hand to let you give him your phone to give “Kyle” a piece of his mind, “Hey Kyle, this is Sungjin, I’m not sure if you know me or are aware of our relationship but I’m Y/n’s BOYFRIEND, I repeat, B. F. BOYFRIEND. So run along now and go ask out someone else because she/he’s taken buddy.” Hearing you giggle from his passive aggressive response to “Kyle”, he turns to you with a confused face, “What? I can’t just let some random guy take my girl/boy can I?”, “Babe look at the screen.” Looking over to your phone, he sees the notes app being opened up with the words, “Who’s Kyle? Sounds like a made up guy to me ;)” Congrats, your boyfriend is now jaw dropped, and eyes widened 😲. “You little-” 

Young K

The only member to catch onto your little joke in my opinion. But before finding out, he’d just stare at you like “ಠ_ಠ... So you just gonna let this happen huh?” In between your guys’ dinner, you decided to pull the prank, needless to say, saying another guy’s name was all it took for Younghyun to completely stop eating. With a mouth full of spaghetti he continues to listen, *What’s he saying? Is he asking you out?!* he mouthed. You shook your head, *Not telling*, I guess that’s what made him think that it could possibly be a prank, which it was. Being the annoying Brian he is and wanting to test his so called “theory”, he did what any boyfriend would do, or any annoying, crazy, and out of their mind kind of boyfriend would do. Thank god it wasn’t a real call because it would have been a major rollercoaster trying to explain this man’s actions. “OHH Y/N! GOD THAT FEELS SO GOOD!”, “YOUNGHYUN WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?!”, “YEAH JUST LIKE THAT BABY MMM RIGHT THERE YEAH THAT’S THE SPOT!” At this point you’d have to stop, god you could see the smug written all over his face, “You think you can prank me like that? I don’t think so babe 😘.” Needless to say, never make him suspicious during any REAL phone calls otherwise you’ll be in royally big trouble 😅

Wonpil

I actually think Wonpil wouldn’t do anything, he’d just sit there not knowing what to do and kinda just wallow in sorrow around the house all day until you’d have to tell him that if was just a prank. “Babe what’s wrong? You’ve been walking around the house and looking like someone sucked the energy outta you.”, “Well I don’t know.. just leave me alone and go over to TYLER’S place because he asked you to come over and it SEEMS like he’s a funnier guy than me. >:( ” Lowkey about to be on the verge of tears until you started laughing over his jealous and bratty state, you walk over to him and squish his cheeks, making his lips pucker out in a cute way. “It was just a prank Wonpil, a skit, a one man show. I just wanted to see how you would react if it actually were to happen.” This poor boy would just stay quiet for a few seconds, trying to put 2 and 2 together 😂, “So Tyler isn’t a real person 🥺️?” “No babe he is not.” You and I and the whole myday community both know that Wonpil is the crybaby in the group so you best believe the waterworks will start flowing. “WAAAAAGHHHHHH”, making ugly sobbing noises with a running nose starting to form. “OH BABY NO I’M SORRY I WON’T DO THAT AGAIN I PROMISE!” Looks like you’re going to him a coddle him up with lots of kisses and I love yous because the poor man just went through a whole set of emotions within those few hours. Lesson learned, this man’s level of emotions will be the downfall of him someday.

Dowoon