#yangyang ff

You froze, hands still gripping your hair, and slowly turned toward the source of the sound. A man was leaning against the headboard of the bed, arms crossed over his chest, his gaze shamelessly roaming from your bare legs up to your wide eyes. 

“You’re welcome to stay,” he said, his voice warm and amused, “but usually, I’d buy a girl dinner first.”

You blinked, your heart skipping a beat as your brain scrambled to catch up. The embarrassment hit you fast. You grabbed the dress off the floor, flinging it over yourself with an urgency that only made the situation more awkward. “What the hell?” you managed, your voice coming out sharper than you intended. “Who are you?”

His grin widened, one brow arching as though he found your indignation charming. “Yangyang,” he said simply, like the name alone explained everything. “And you’re clearly not one of my friends, which makes this even more interesting. You must be with the other group.”

Right! This was a shared villa! “Yeah, well, if I’d known someone else was in here, I would’ve knocked,” you shot back, crossing your arms defensively, even though it didn’t help much—given the fact that you were still standing there half-naked.

“Ah, I see. It was my fault. I should've locked the door.” Yangyang’s eyes flickered with amusement, clearly enjoying your reaction. He stepped off the bed and walked toward you with slow, deliberate steps, but there was no real threat in his movements—just an unspoken confidence that radiated from him.

“Sorry,” he apologized, though his tone was far from sorry. “But next time, maybe try the door before you barge in and… unpack. I can’t be expected to play the gentleman if you don’t give me the chance to act shocked, you know?” 

You didn't say anything, conscious about the way he was looking at you now that he was closer. Only then were you able to get a good look at him—dark, neatly parted hair that framed his face, a downturned nose that balanced his delicate features, dark eyes with a glint of mischief in them, and lips curved in a soft, effortless smile.

He's cute, you caught yourself thinking. “Aren't you leaving?” you asked, cocking an eyebrow.

Yangyang flashed you a toothy grin, one that reminded you of the Cheshire cat from Alice in Wonderland. “Not without thanking you for the entertainment. I must say, it was a bold first impression.”

“I wasn’t trying to impress anyone,” you retorted, tightening the dress around your body. “Could you please just get out of my room?”

Yangyang shrugged nonchalantly, his gaze still scanning you with that unhurried intensity. “It’s not your room, sweetheart,” he said, his voice a little lower, more playful now. “I called dibs on it first. If you’re going to claim it, you’ll have to be more convincing.”

You huffed, looking away and hoping he’d just walk out of the door like he was intending to. Yangyang turned the doorknob but didn’t open the door yet.

“You know what, it’s all yours,” he said, making you glance at him. He was shamelessly ogling at your body, again. “You are making it a little hard to say ‘no’,” he added with a wink.

You gasped, a flush rising on your cheeks again, but before you could respond, he gave a lazy wave and stepped out. The door clicked shut behind him, leaving you flustered with a memory you wouldn’t soon forget.

Later that evening, you woke up feeling rested but starving. The soft glow of sunset was pouring into the room from the floor-to-ceiling window, and the view from where you sat on the bed was majestic. You didn’t pass up the chance to grab your phone and snap a photo. After that, you rose and stepped out of the bedroom.

The faint sound of music and laughter drifted up from downstairs. You followed it, wondering if it was your friends while your stomach was growling with every step. Sure enough, in the kitchen, Giselle and Ningning were perched at the counter, drinks in hand and plates of food in front of them. They waved you over immediately.

“Finally! Thought we’d have to drag you out,” Giselle said with a grin, pushing a plate toward you. “Here.”

“Thanks,” you mumbled, grabbing a fork and digging in without hesitation.

“Did you sleep well?” Ningning asked, eyes glimmering beautifully—like they always have.

“Totally. I was so tired. I took a shower and just passed out immediately,” you replied, sighing dramatically. Then the memory of meeting Yangyang in the bedroom suddenly flashed in your mind. “Wait. We’re sharing this villa with other people, right?”

Giselle nodded. “Yeah. It’s really big. It has eight bedrooms. You haven’t explored it yet, have you?”

As you shook your head, Ningning said, “Our housemates just left a few minutes ago, actually. Said they’re going out to sight-see.”

“You’ve met them?” you asked.

“Yes,” Giselle replied, placing a finger on her chin, thinking. “Let’s see, there’s Hendery, Xiaojun, and Yangyang. They’re tourists from China.”

“Did they say anything?” you pried, wondering if Yangyang told them what happened earlier.

“We just introduced ourselves. You know how it goes,” Giselle answered. “Why? Did something happen?”

“Nothing,” you lied, looking away. “Just… wondering what they’re like.”

“They’re pretty chill, from what I can tell. Didn’t really hang out much, though,” Ningning chimed in.

“Yeah, they didn’t stick around long enough to make an impression,” Giselle added. “But they’ll probably be back later. Speaking of impressions, you should hurry and get ready. We’re going out tonight.”

The nightlife in Aruba’s Palm Beach Area was everything you’d imagined and more.

As soon as you stepped into the vibrant strip of bars and clubs, the energy hit you like a wave. The streets were alive with music blaring out from every corner, and the air was filled with the chatter and laughter of tourists and locals alike. Neon lights glowed in every direction, illuminating clusters of people moving from one bar to the next, drinks in hand, their faces flushed with excitement.

The first bar was packed, with music thumping loudly and bodies pressed together on the dance floor. The drinks were just as colorful and varied as the crowd—fruity cocktails with little umbrellas, classic mojitos, daiquiris, frosty beer bottles dripping with condensation. They came fast—colorful and sweet, and the three of you hit the dance floor almost immediately. Giselle and Ningning moved like they owned the place, and before long, you found yourself swept up in the rhythm too.

Ningning didn’t waste time—by the time you’d finished your first drink, a tall guy with a cheeky grin was already glued to her side, following her every move. She seemed to enjoy the attention but kept him at arm’s length, toying with him like a cat with a mouse.

You and Giselle, meanwhile, owned the dance floor. The music vibrated through your chest, your limbs moving in sync with the rhythm as you lost yourself to the beat. The drinks flowed, cooling your throat and warming your veins, adding a carefree edge to your movements.

Men naturally began approaching you and your friends. It was a strange but refreshing difference from back home. In Aruba, every guy seemed more confident and considerate, striking up conversations or asking you to dance without hesitation. When turned down, they didn’t linger or sulk—they simply moved on to the next opportunity, unfazed.

By the time you hit the second bar, Ningning’s admirer was still trailing your group, determined to win her over despite her aloof attitude. You and Giselle exchanged amused glances as you ordered another round of drinks.

“It’s like a buffet,” she whispered to you, her eyes scanning the room as she sipped her martini. Her sharp gaze flickered over the men who glanced her way, assessing each one.

“Too tall,” she muttered after one man caught her eye. “Too short,” she said about another. 

While dancing, a third guy approached her, but he was gone within a minute. Giselle rejoined you with a wrinkled nose. “His perfume was making me dizzy.”

You both giggled, shoulders bumping.

“What about him?” you teased, gesturing toward a handsome guy by the bar. “You danced with him, right?”

She shook her head with a dramatic sigh. “Thick accent. Totally not it.”

You couldn’t help but laugh as she dismissed each contender, whispering her sharp remarks to you before turning back to the dance floor. Giselle wasn’t just selective—she was a queen surveying her court, unbothered by anyone who didn’t meet her standards.

Meanwhile, you were simply enjoying the music and the atmosphere, dancing until your feet ached and declining the occasional offers to buy you drinks or join you on the floor.

Ningning found you and linked her arms with yours. You grinned, “Where’s your shadow?”

Ningning rolled her eyes. “Told him to leave me alone. I couldn’t stand him anymore.”

“Why? I think he was cute.”

“He is but—” she sighed— “his English is worse than my Spanish.”

You winced. “Yeah, that’s not gonna work.”

“Absolutely not.”

By the time you reached your fifth bar, the night was catching up to you. You slumped onto one of the stools of the tiki bar, grateful for the chance to sit after hours of dancing and wandering. Your friends were nowhere in sight, but you weren’t worried—they’d either found their own fun or were still tearing it up on the dance floor. For now, you just needed a moment to recharge.

“What can I get you, Miss?” asked the bartender, flashing a pretty smile at you. You smiled back, finding her bold red pixie cut and honey skin tone immensely attractive.

“I’m not sure,” you replied, unable to take your eyes away from her face. “What do you suggest?”

“Have you tried our signature cocktail?”

“Not yet, but you’re gorgeous so I’m gonna trust you. I’ll have one please.”

She chuckled lightly and her smile just made her even more alluring. “Your judgment is a little questionable, but alright.”

You scrunch your nose cutely, the alcohol making you less shy about acting cute in front of a stranger. As the bartender was making your drink, you took pictures and videos of the party around you, determined to collect as many remembrances of your first spring break trip as you could.

“It’s called Aruba Ariba,” the bartender said, placing the glass on the counter and pushing it gently toward you. “I’m surprised the previous bars didn’t give you one.”

“Well, this is the first time I asked for a recommendation. I like sticking to the drinks I’m already familiar with, so,” you replied, shrugging. “Thanks.”

You took a sip and let the flavors as well as the spice dance on your tongue before letting out a satisfied hum. “This is good.”

“Thank you,” the bartender replied, bringing a hand on her forehead as if she was tipping a hat in appreciation. She then moved to another customer who had just approached the other side of the bar. Meanwhile, you were happily enjoying your drink while scrolling through your phone.

“Mind if I join you?” A man had slid onto the stool next to you, flashing a grin that was meant to be charming but came off a little too practiced. Before you could answer, he flagged down the bartender and ordered himself a drink, then turned back to you.

“You look like you could use some company,” he said smoothly.

“I’m good, thanks,” you replied, keeping your tone polite but firm.

You expected him to leave, but he didn’t. “Aw, come on. It’s gonna be fun.”

“No, thank you.” You forced a small smile, hoping he’d move on, but he leaned in closer. He tried cracking jokes, tossing compliments your way, and making small talk that you weren’t interested in entertaining. When it became clear that your polite disinterest wasn’t working, you finally said, “I’m actually here with my boyfriend.”

“Oh yeah? Where is he?”

“He’s around,” you lied, looking toward the entrance as though expecting someone to walk through any second.

The guy smirked, clearly unconvinced. “You don’t have to lie. I can tell you’re not really with anyone.”

Before you could respond, the bartender stepped in. “Excuse me, sir, she said no. Leave her alone.”

But even that didn’t deter him. “Relax,” the guy said dismissively, waving off the bartender. “She’s just playing hard to get.”

You sighed, your patience running out, when suddenly an arm slid around your waist.

“There you are, honey,” a familiar voice drawled, soft but unmistakably amused.

Yangyang.

You turned your head just in time to see him leaning in, his free hand casually resting on the small of your back. “Sorry I took so long,” he said, before turning to the man beside you, the amusement in his eyes quickly cooling into something sharper. “Is this guy bothering you, sweetheart?”

The man blinked, caught off guard. “Are you with her?”

Yangyang tilted his head, giving a lopsided grin. “Of course, she’s my wife. We’re newlyweds, you know. Honeymoon and all that.”

The guy scoffed, still skeptical. “She’s been sitting here alone for a while. I thought she was lying about having company.”

Your patience snapped. “Shouldn’t you leave someone alone when they ask you to?”

The man waved you off, his tone growing defensive. “Women say ‘no’ all the time. You like being chased. You say no because you want to see if we’ll try harder.” He turned to Yangyang, as if expecting backup. “You know how they are, right?”

“Ah, why is a grown man barking like a dog?” Yangyang asked, looking bored, digging his ear with his pinky like he was trying to unblock it. “Even a dog’s bark is more pleasant than this.”

The man’s expression twisted. “What did you just say?”

Yangyang tilted his head slightly, his hand still resting casually on your waist. “Oh, I’m sorry. Did I say that out loud?” He smiled, the kind that could either charm or infuriate someone depending on the context. “I meant to say, why is a grown man yapping like a toy poodle? All bark, no bite—you know what I mean?”

You snickered before you could stop yourself, then covered your mouth and looked away. The harasser didn’t share your amusement. His face reddened, his ego clearly stung. “You’ve got a big mouth,” he spat, standing from his stool and squaring his shoulders.

Yangyang raised an eyebrow, unfazed. “And you’ve got a small brain. It makes sense though, seeing how you can’t seem to take a hint.”

The man’s hand curled into a fist, his body tensing as he lunged toward Yangyang. You gasped, but before he could get close, two figures appeared seemingly out of nowhere.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Hendery’s voice cut through the tension. He stepped between the two, holding up his hands as if refereeing. “What do you think you’re doing, buddy?”

Xiaojun flanked him, his expression calm but his stance solid as he placed a hand on the man’s shoulder. “You don’t wanna do that,” he said evenly, his tone low but firm. “Not in here,” he added, nodding at the muscular, almost gigantic bouncers at the entrance of the bar.

The man glanced between them, his bravado faltering as he sized up the newcomers. Hendery’s casual grin didn’t quite reach his eyes, and Xiaojun’s calm demeanor carried an unspoken warning.

The man clenched his jaw, glaring at all three of them before finally backing down with a muttered curse. He grabbed his drink and stormed off, his pride clearly bruised.

“Was that really necessary?” Xiaojun asked, turning to Yangyang with a slight shake of his head.

Yangyang shrugged, a sly grin on his face. “He started it.”

Hendery clapped him on the back, chuckling. “You’ve got a real gift for getting under people’s skin.”

“Come on, now. If you ruffle my feathers like that, my head might get bigger,” Yangyang quipped, shooting them a playful wink before turning back to you. “You okay, honey?”

You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding, your heart still pounding from the confrontation. “Yeah but—” you took a deep breath— “Honeymoon? Really?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

Yangyang shrugged, his grin returning. “Seemed like the easiest way to get rid of him. You’re welcome, by the way.”

You rolled your eyes, though a small smile tugged at your lips. “Thanks, I guess.”

“You guess?” he teased, leaning just a little closer. “Wow, tough crowd.”

Shaking your head, you turned to Hendery and Xiaojun. “Thanks to you guys too.”

“Anytime,” Hendery smiled.

Xiaojun crossed his arms over his chest, studying your face. “We’ve been here for a day and Yangyang’s already married. Aruba really is something.”

Well, you can’t really argue with that.

At some point after the encounter with the creep, you were introduced to Hendery and Xiaojun, Yangyang’s friends. They stuck around at the bar, chatting over drinks and swapping stories. You learned that they were also on vacation from China and, like you, were incoming sophomores. Their easygoing vibe made it surprisingly easy to relax, even after the earlier drama.

“By the way,” Xiaojun said, eyeing you. “How do you guys know each other? We didn’t see you at the villa earlier.”

The memory of your mortifying first meeting with Yangyang made you roll your eyes. “You don’t wanna know.”

Hendery snickered, leaning on the bar. “It’s Yangyang, so he probably did something dumb and left a stupid impression.”

You exchanged glances with Yangyang, who gave you a knowing grin. Then he told his friends, “Let’s not talk about it, guys. Trust me—you really don’t want to know.”

Before you could respond, Giselle and Ningning appeared, weaving through the crowd with flushed faces and wide smiles. Giselle spotted you first and threw her arms in the air. “There you are! We’ve been looking for you!”

“Yeah!” Ningning added, her voice slightly breathless. “We found a place upstairs with amazing views. Where’d you disappear to?”

“She was busy fighting off creeps and getting married,” Hendery said before you could explain.

“Wait, what?” Giselle blinked, clearly taken aback. “Married?”

You rolled your eyes, heat rising to your cheeks. “This guy wouldn’t leave me alone, so Yangyang told him we were on a honeymoon to get rid of him.”

Giselle and Ningning exchanged amused glances before turning to Yangyang, grins tugging at their lips. “That’s kinda cute,” Ningning mused, her eyes sparkling. “Fake or not.”

“I see you’ve met our housemates,” Giselle said, nodding toward the guys with a warm smile.

The five of you chatted for a while before Giselle and Ningning eventually made their way back to the dance floor. Yangyang’s friends joined them.

“I’m not moving,” you declared, leaning back against the bar. “I’ve been walking and dancing all night. My legs are officially done.”

“Oh, come on,” Yangyang said, leaning closer with a mischievous grin. “I saved you. Doesn’t that earn me at least one dance?”

“Wow, so you’re holding that over my head now?”

“Absolutely,” he replied without missing a beat.

Yangyang headed for the dance floor, dragging you along. You opened your mouth to protest, but his grip was firm. Your legs felt like jelly, and the idea of moving even a little more was downright cruel. But Yangyang’s grin was so smug that resisting him suddenly felt like losing a challenge you hadn’t even agreed to. Against your better judgment, you let him lead you into the crowd.

Giselle and Ningning were pulling off ridiculous, exaggerated moves, laughing at themselves without a care in the world. Hendery, ever the show-off, attempted a wild spin that almost sent him crashing into a stranger, while Xiaojun kept it smooth and controlled, his steps simple but effortlessly cool.

Then there was Yangyang. He didn’t just dance—he owned the floor, his movements confident and effortlessly in sync with the beat. You hated to admit it, but he was good—like, really good.

At one point, he turned to you, holding out a hand. “Come on, Mrs. Liu Yangyang. Show me what you’ve got.”

You rolled your eyes but let him pull you into the fray. He spun you lightly, his grip steady but playful. Your initial reluctance faded with every step, and before you knew it, you were grinning and giggling.

Maybe it was the music, or maybe it was the way Yangyang’s friends treated you like you’d always been part of the group. Whatever it was, the tension you’d carried earlier had melted away, leaving behind only laughter and the steady rhythm of the night.

You woke up to the sharp rays of sunlight streaming through the window. Groaning, you rolled over—only to realize you weren’t even in bed. The floor was as unforgiving as it was unfamiliar, with a crumpled pillow under your head and a blanket twisted awkwardly around your legs like a makeshift cocoon.

Foggy memories of the night before flashed in your mind—the taxi ride, Giselle belting out the wrong lyrics to Dancing Queen, Ningning laughing so hard she couldn’t breathe, and your voice joining the chaos with something equally off-key.

Dragging yourself to your feet, you grabbed a towel and stumbled into the bathroom for a much-needed shower. Fifteen minutes later, feeling somewhat human, you headed downstairs on a hunt for food.

In the kitchen, Xiaojun stood at the stove, flipping a ladle like it was a microphone as he hummed a tune you didn’t recognize. “Morning,” he said without turning around.

“Morning,” you mumbled, sliding onto a stool by the counter. “That smell is fantastic. What is it?”

“Hangover cure,” he replied, grabbing a bowl and pouring soup in it. “Chinese-style. Trust me, you’ll thank me later,” he added, sliding the bowl toward you.

“Later?” you chuckled, accepting the spoon he handed you. “I’m thanking you right now. Thank you very much.”

“You’re very welcome,” Xiaojun said with a smile.

Not long after, Giselle and Ningning shuffled in, both looking like they’d been hit by a truck. Giselle flopped onto a chair with a groan. “Remind me why we thought mixing tequila and rum was a good idea.”

“Because we’re dumb,” Ningning replied, reaching for a glass of water. “Morning, guys.”

“Eat first, complain later,” Xiaojun said, sliding bowls of steaming soup across the counter.

Hendery appeared from the patio. “That smells fantastic!” he cheered, hurrying over to Xiaojun’s side and peering into the pot. “Is there more?”

“There’s enough for everybody,” replied Xiaojun, handing the ladle to Hendery so he could help himself.

The kitchen island was quiet for the first few minutes, with only the sound of the spoon against china and satisfied hums from everybody filling the silence. Xiaojun’s soup was phenomenal, and you couldn’t decide whether it was because you were hungry and hungover, or because he was simply an amazing cook.

After last night, there seemed to be an unspoken understanding between your group and the boys. For some reason—probably last night’s shenanigans—neither group seemed awkward with the other. It felt like you’d known each other for a long time despite only meeting yesterday. And it also felt like you were one big friend group on a vacation rather than two separate groups sharing the same villa. You liked it better this way.

You were halfway through your portion when Yangyang appeared, looking way too refreshed for someone who had been just as wild the night before. He plopped into the chair next to you, his grin as bright as the sun you wished would dim.

“So,” he began casually, resting his chin in his hand. “Have you made your decision?”

You blinked at him, not saying anything but giving him an inquiring look. He smirked. “You know, the thing we talked about last night.”

It took a moment for the fog in your brain to clear, but then it hit you—his ridiculous offer to ‘show you a good time’ while you were in Aruba, whatever that meant. You shook your head, suppressing a laugh.

“Pass.”

Yangyang feigned a look of heartbreak. “Ouch. Can’t you at least pretend to think about it?”

You shook your head again. “Yeah, I’ll pass.”

Across the table, Giselle and Ningning exchanged confused glances, but Yangyang only winked at them. “Inside joke,” he said smoothly, leaving it at that.

The rest of the day was a blur of sunshine and downtime. Everyone had their own thing going on. Some were catching up on sleep, the others were watching TV, while the rest were just enjoying the down time after last night’s activities. Yangyang, however, was relentless.

You’d found a quiet spot on the patio with a book in hand, ready to soak up the calm. But you were barely a chapter in when Yangyang appeared, sitting onto the bean bag next to you with a loud sigh.

“Perfect day to say yes, don’t you think?” he asked, his voice filled with exaggerated optimism.

“Say yes to what?” you said without looking up, feigning ignorance.

“Come on, honey,” he replied, taking a magazine from under the table. “You know what I’m talking about.”

You turned a page, ignoring him. Undaunted, he leaned closer. “You’re missing out, you know. I’m offering you the ultimate spring break experience. What’s the worst that could happen?”

“I don’t know,” you said, finally glancing at him while he flipped through the pages of the magazine lazily. “Maybe you’ll turn out to be very terrible at it?”

He paused, meeting your gaze. “Oh, ho ho ho,” he chimed, mischief evident not just in his grin but in his tone. “The only way to find out is for you to try it for yourself.”

“Pass.”

What was so crazy about Yangyang’s offer? Nothing, to be honest. If anything, a hookup was basically part of a trip like this one. When you were planning the trip with Giselle and Ningning, you talked excitedly about beaches, island adventure, bar-hopping, and cute foreign boys. You might not have been as excited as they were to find a good-looking tourist who’d sweep you off your feet, but you half-expected to get cozy with one.

But it was different with Yangyang. Your first meeting was unconventional, and the way he casually asked you to be his ‘travel wifey’ was far from the whirlwind spring break romance you were imagining. So, it’s an absolute ‘no’.

You didn’t tell him any of this though, so he kept at it. Later, while you were swimming alone, enjoying the cool water against the heat of the afternoon sun, Yangyang showed up again. He stood at the edge of the pool, hands on his hips like some kind of self-proclaimed lifeguard.

“Still thinking it over?” he called out.

You swam to the edge, wiping water from your face as you looked up at him. “Don’t you have anything better to do?”

“What else could be better than trying to win over a pretty girl’s heart?” he admitted with a grin. 

“Wow, you’re persistent.”

He shrugged, “I’ve been told my persistence is part of my charm.”

You splashed water at him, but he dodged it with a laugh. “Keep playing hard to get, Mrs. Liu Yangyang. You’ll give in eventually.”

“Go away,” you shot back, though you couldn’t help the smile that tugged at your lips.

That evening, after the sun dipped below the horizon, the group gathered in the living room for a round of card games. You had just beaten Hendery in a particularly competitive game when Yangyang slid into the seat next to you, carrying two glasses of some fruity cocktail. He handed one to you with a grin.

“Bribery,” he said.

“For what?” you asked, accepting the drink but eyeing him warily.

“For you-know-what. I figured I’d at least sweeten the deal,” he quipped.

Before you could reply, Giselle leaned over from across the table. “What deal?” she asked, her curiosity piqued.

“Nothing,” you said quickly, shooting a glare at Yangyang.

“Inside joke,” Yangyang said again with a wink, taking a sip of his drink.

He didn’t stop there, though. While you were distracted helping Ningning figure out the rules of the next game, he whispered, “I’ll even let you win at cards if you say yes.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t fight the amused smirk that crept onto your face. “You haven’t even won one against me yet.”

He pointed finger guns at you. “That’s me letting you win,” he said, winking.

“You’re unbelievable,” you scoffed.

“And yet,” he replied, leaning back in his chair, “you can’t seem to ignore me.”

Yangyang was getting on your nerves. You could have shut him down for good, told him to leave you alone—but you didn’t. Maybe it was his ridiculous persistence, or the way his grin seemed to disarm you every time. Or maybe it was the infuriating fact that he wasn’t wrong—you couldn’t seem to ignore him. And somehow, you weren’t sure you wanted to.

“You are not barhopping again,” Karina groaned in envy while you were on FaceTime the next morning.

“No, we’re not,” Giselle replied, checking herself out in the mirror while you were helping her tie her bikini top.

“Not right now, anyway,” you added teasingly, grinning at Karina’s expense. She had wanted so badly to come with you, but she couldn’t because she had to go back to her hometown.

Ningning was in front of the vanity, putting on some makeup. “You really should have come. Aruba is a dream.”

You could hear Karina sigh dramatically on the other end of the phone. “Ugh, I swear, it’s like you guys are living in paradise without me. I really should’ve come.”

“Well, you were too busy being all responsible and going back home,” you chimed, joining Ningning by the vanity to look at yourself. “You’d have loved it. The beach, the sun... we loved it.”

Karina’s voice was laced with playful sarcasm. “Yeah, yeah, rub it in. I’ll be here, in my hometown, living my best life... not.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at her dramatics, then turned to Giselle, who was now fiddling with the straps of her bikini top in front of the mirror. “You sure you don’t want to just rush over here last minute? We could all have the best time together.”

“Nah, I’m good,” Karina replied, but you could tell she was still slightly regretful. “Someone has to look out for you girls from here. I’ll just live vicariously through your snaps and photos.”

Ningning smirked. “We’ll make sure to flood your inbox with those so you really feel like you’re here.”

“Please don’t,” Karina said with a mock exasperated tone. “I’m already getting jealous just hearing about all the fun.”

Giselle adjusted her sunglasses, clearly amused. “You should have come, Karina. Aruba is everything you said it would be... plus a little extra.”

You caught her eye in the mirror, raising an eyebrow in her direction. Karina asked, “A little extra? What exactly does that mean?”

“Oh, nothing,” Giselle said quickly, turning away with a grin. “Just, you know, the whole vacation vibe...”

“My girl is not still moping out there, is she?” Karina asked, feigning strictness. “She’s not still thinking about some nerd called Huang Renjun, is she?”

You gasped. “Excuse me? Say it to my face.” You pouted at Karina. “I’m having a really great time. Thank you very much.”

“That’s good then.”

You grabbed your sheer layer top and pulled it over your head. “Also, don’t make it sound so upsetting. Renjun and I are still friends.”

Giselle scoffed. “Girl, Renjun and you weren’t anything else but friends.”

You rolled your eyes, mocking her. “Whatever. It’s all in the past.”

“Pretty sure it was just three weeks ago,” Karina teased.

You sighed. “Are we gonna hit the beach or should we just sit here and talk about my failed romances?”

Fortunately, they stopped teasing you and finished getting ready. You bade Karina goodbye with a promise to show her pictures and have fun. After grabbing everything you needed, the three of you hurried downstairs.

Giselle flicked her hair over her shoulder and wore her sunglasses. “Alright, let’s go make some waves, ladies.”

As you walked toward the beach, the guys were already lounging on the sun beds lining up the shore. Hendery was sprawled across one, his legs dangling in the sun, while Xiaojun and Ningning had already gone off to the water’s edge. Yangyang, of course, was right where you expected him to be—leaning casually against the sun bed, watching you approach with an almost predatory glint in his eyes.

His voice reached you first, as always. “What took you so long?” he asked, a smirk forming on his lips. “Did you take your sweet time dolling up for me?”

You didn’t even flinch. “Do I know you?” 

Yangyang laughed, his grin widening. “Give me one chance and you will.”

You raised an eyebrow as you placed your towel on the bed next to his. “I guess since I’m in paradise, I can tolerate this much of a nuisance.”

He sat up and leaned forward to you, his eyes never leaving you. “We may be in paradise right now, but I know I could take it up a notch. Make it feel more like paradise,” he said, his tone far too smooth for your liking.

You crossed your arms, trying to keep the irritation from your voice. “Didn’t you almost get into a fist fight with someone who couldn’t take a hint?”

Yangyang shrugged, leaning back on the sun bed. “I still haven’t heard the one definitive answer, so, yeah. I’ll keep trying until you say it.”

“Say what, exactly?” you asked, genuinely puzzled because you were sure you’d been discouraging his advances. If that wasn’t enough for a hint, then what exactly does he need?

“You haven’t really said no yet,” he said, closing his eyes with a smug grin. “All you’ve done so far is evade and dodge.”

You scoffed but didn’t say anything.

“It’s a simple ‘yes’ or ‘no’, my dear wife,” he added, humming. “If you can’t give it, that means you’re not done thinking about it yet. I could still make you give in to my charm.”

“You’re very optimistic, did you know that?”

“Yes. I’m very appreciative too,” he chuckled, glancing sideways at you. “I’ll show you just how much I can appreciate everything about you if you say ‘yes’ to me.”

You held his gaze, unwavering with a glint of mischief. You wanted to say ‘no’, it was the most logical answer. But you couldn’t utter the word.

“Suit yourself,” you huffed. With a playful roll of your eyes, you rose to your feet and headed to the water. You could hear him laughing as you walked away, but you weren’t going to let him get to you that easily. Still, the way his gaze followed you made your pulse quicken just a little. The beach was warm, the water cool and refreshing, these were things you could always count on in this paradise—along with Yangyang’s relentless pursuit.

You and your friends frolicked by the beach—swimming, taking pictures, enjoying citrusy drinks from the nearby tiki, and letting the salt and sun get soaked up by your skin. The boys were off in their own world, swimming ang fighting on the sand like school boys. At one point, Hendery roped you into a game of beach volleyball, sparking an intense competition between the girls and the boys.

You were winning the match, with your easy teamwork and general proficiency with the game itself. You won the first set and it looked like the second set was yours too, leading with a score of 22 against their 19.

The sand was warm under your feet as you and Ningning jogged into position, Giselle was already hyping up the team from the backline. Across the net, the boys were plotting their strategy with the seriousness of a championship game. Yangyang stood in the middle of their huddle, pointing and gesturing animatedly, while Hendery crouched low, bouncing on the balls of his feet.

“Are they actually strategizing?” Ningning asked, tying her hair into a high ponytail.

You shrugged, hiding your smirk. “Let them think they have a chance.”

Giselle clapped to get your attention. “Focus, ladies. They’ve got height, but we’ve got heart.”

“And skill,” Ningning added.

“Mostly skill,” you corrected with a grin.

The first serve was Yangyang’s, and he started with a smug grin as he launched the ball over the net. It was fast, but Giselle intercepted it with a smooth dig. You set it up for Ningning, who spiked it perfectly, narrowly avoiding Hendery’s desperate lunge.

“Point for the queens!” Ningning yelled, pumping her fist.

The boys groaned, and Hendery rolled dramatically in the sand. “I need a sub!” he cried.

“You are the sub,” Yangyang shot back, flicking sand at him.

The game continued with fierce determination on both sides. Hendery proved to be a surprisingly agile blocker, while Yangyang was quick on his feet, diving for saves and trash-talking at every opportunity.

“Is that all you’ve got?” he called out after Giselle narrowly missed a serve.

“Keep talking, Yangyang,” she shot back, adjusting her sunglasses. “It’ll make our victory even sweeter.”

Ningning served again, and the ball sailed high over the net. Yangyang jumped to spike it, but you were ready, blocking it with a well-timed jump.

“Boom!” you shouted as the ball hit the sand on their side.

Yangyang stared at you, mouth agape. “Where did that come from?”

“From the talent I was born with, where else?” you said with a wink.

As the match wore on, the stakes grew higher. The boys managed a few lucky points, but the girls maintained a narrow lead. The final play was an intense rally, with the ball going back and forth across the net.

“Come on!” Hendery shouted, diving to save a near-miss.

“Mine!” Ningning yelled, running to the backline.

Yangyang jumped for a spike, but you leapt just in time, blocking it again. The ball tipped off the edge of the net and landed on their side. Then you girls erupted in cheers, jumping and hugging each other as the boys slumped to the sand in defeat.

“Unbelievable,” Yangyang muttered, shaking his head.

“Victory tastes so sweet,” Ningning said, doing another celebratory spin.

Hendery flopped onto his back, covering his face with his arms. “I’m never going to hear the end of this.”

“Correct,” Giselle said, grinning. “Now, about that bet…”

Yangyang sighed, waving his hand lazily in the air. “Fine. Full-course barbecue it is.”

“Yes and we get to pick what we’re putting on the barbecue,” Giselle added.

Yangyang rose to his feet and jogged toward the sun bed where his bag was. When he came back, he was waving the card in the air. “Knock yourselves out. Just don’t max it out, yeah?”

“Fair enough,” Ningning said, snatching his card. “Let’s go shopping, Giselle. I’m craving scallops.”

Xiaojun offered to join them, saying he’d make sure they got everything needed for the barbecue party.

As the others drifted away, you stayed behind, enjoying the quiet hush of the waves and the cooling breeze. Yangyang plopped down onto the sand beside you, stretching out with an exaggerated sigh.

“Great game,” he said, his tone light. “Even if it was rigged.”

“Rigged?” you laughed, raising an eyebrow. “You lost fair and square.”

“Sure, sure,” he said, leaning back on his elbows. “But I bet you all practiced in secret. No way Hendery and I could lose.”

“I didn’t think you’d be such a sore loser,” you teased, shaking your head.

“And yet, here I am, still hanging out with the enemy.” He grinned, his hair ruffling in the breeze.

The tiki bar server approached with two drinks, setting them on the low table nearby. Yangyang reached for one and handed it to you, his smirk still firmly in place.

“To the victors,” he said, raising his glass.

You clinked yours against his, laughing. “And to the losers who get to do all the work.”

Yangyang chuckled, leaning back and taking a sip. “How long are you guys here for by the way?”

“Two weeks,” you replied, savoring the sweetness on your tongue.

“Really? We’re here for two weeks too.”

You scoffed. “Wow, we’re so unlucky.”

The conversation flowed from playful teasing to lighter topics—the best dishes you’d tried on the island, the funniest moments from the trip so far, and the weird tan line you pointed out on his shoulder.

Yangyang stretched his legs out in the sand, inspecting his shoulder. “You know, this tan line is going to be a conversation starter. ‘Hey Yangyang, what’s that weird patch on your arm?’ Oh, you know, just me being the MVP of a beach volleyball game. No big deal.”

You snorted. “MVP? You lost.”

“They don’t need those details,” he said, waving it off with a grin. “But seriously, I’m loving this trip so far. I just know I’m gonna miss this place once we go back to uni.”

“Are you a freshman?” you asked, tilting your head curiously.

“Yeah. How’d you know?”

You shrugged. “I just assumed we were the same age, so…”

“You’re a freshman too?” he asked, glad to find something you had in common. “So, what are you studying? Something artsy, right?”

“Do I look like I’m studying something artsy?”

Yangyang leaned against the sun bed. “You don’t seem like the ‘numbers and spreadsheets’ kind of person. Figured you’d be one of those artsy types.”

“Well, I guess it counts since it’s Liberal Arts.”

“Which liberal art is it?”

“English,” you admitted, flattening your lips together, sheepish. “I know. Very basic.”

“Basic?” Yangyang tilted his head curiously. “I didn’t say that. I think it’s cool. English is interesting—grammar rules, stories, all that stuff.”

“Thanks, I think?” You took a sip from your glass. “I only picked it because I didn't really know what I wanted to do.”

Yangyang’s grin softened, his tone unusually thoughtful. “That’s fair. Not everyone knows right away. Sometimes, it’s better to explore than to lock yourself into something you’re not even sure about.”

You tilted your head, surprised by his response. “I guess so. But don’t you think it’s a bit lame? Everyone else seems to have a clear path, and I’m just figuring things out.”

He shook his head, his gaze shifting to the horizon. “I don’t think it’s lame. Most of the time, people stick to their clear paths because they’re scared of the unknown, not because it’s what they actually want.”

His words lingered in the air, carried by the gentle sea breeze. For a moment, you forgot the mischief in his smile and the teasing remarks. Yangyang, it seemed, could be more than just the guy who cracked jokes and flirted needlessly.

“Well, it happens,” you said, your voice quieter now. “You’re not so bad, you know,” you said, smiling at him.

“Only ‘not so bad’?” he asked, feigning offense.

“Don’t push your luck,” you quipped, but your tone was warm.

The space between you grew smaller as the conversation went on. You talked about anything and everything. During that, Yangyang’s shoulder brushed yours, his closeness oddly comforting. His laughter was contagious, and his gaze—bright and mischievous yet sincere—had a way of making you forget your initial impression of him.

“Are you laughing?” you asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to laugh,” he said, clearing his throat. “I just didn’t think you’d do something like that.”

“What? Spend every passing day in the library just to see my crush?” you asked, making Yangyang chuckle.

“Yeah. I almost thought you were talking about someone else,” he laughed, his toothy Cheshire cat grin making you grin too. “That guy is lucky. He’s got you stalking him daily while I’m this close to getting on my knees just for an hour alone with you.”

You rolled your eyes. “Yeah, well, he’s nothing like you. You’re okay, but he’s on an entirely different wavelength. Now that I’ve thought about it, I realized we weren’t even compatible at all. He’s smart and knows exactly what he wants.”

“His loss,” Yangyang shrugged. “You’re probably too pretty for him anyway.”

“No,” you said briskly, shaking your hands. “You wouldn’t say that if you’d seen him. He’s way prettier. You have no idea,” you added, pressing your hands against your cheeks at the memory of Renjun’s beautiful smile.

Yangyang nudged your shoulder, making you glance up at him. “I don’t need to see him to know you’re prettier.”

The compliment caught you off guard, but before you could respond, you found yourself lost in his eyes. They crinkled slightly at the corners as he smiled, and there was something disarming about the way he looked at you—like he genuinely couldn’t see anything or anyone but you.

Yangyang winked and then looked away to break the silence. “You’ll find this hard to believe, but I used to spend a lot of time in the library too. Especially when it’s—”

“Yes.” The word slipped out before you could stop it, hanging between you like the weight of the moment.

Yangyang blinked, tilting his head. “Yes?”

You bit your lip, heat rising to your cheeks. “Yes,” you repeated softly.

His smile returned, slower and more genuine. “Finally,” he murmured, leaning in.

The world seemed to fade away as Yangyang’s lips met yours. The kiss was warm and light at first, but it quickly deepened, making your stomach flutter with butterflies you didn’t think you’d get from Yangyang. His hand found the back of your head, kissing you deeper as if he’d been waiting for it all this time.

When you finally pulled away, he rested his forehead against yours, his grin as mischievous as always.

“See?” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “Told you I’d win you over.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “You’re insufferable.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” he teased, his thumb brushing against your cheek as he pulled you into another kiss.

Ten minutes. That was how long you sat there making out with Yangyang by the beach. Maybe it was even longer than that, you weren’t sure, you just knew it was long long. You were both laughing and giggling over nonsense, and he wouldn’t stop teasing you about giving in to him after pushing him away several times. 

If it wasn’t for Giselle calling your phone and asking why you weren’t back in the villa yet, Yangyang would probably still have you locked in his arms on that sun bed.

“Scallops, wow,” you exclaimed, peering over Xiaojun’s shoulder while he was working the grill. “Beef too? How much did you guys spend?”

“Enough,” said Giselle, chuckling darkly at Yangyang who was standing next to you with his hands on his waist.

“Oh man, you didn’t just let them splurge, did you?” Yangyang asked Xiaojun who just shrugged.

“You did tell them to knock themselves out,” Xiaojun replied, grinning.

“Babe, come try this,” Ningning called out to you, waving a spoon in your direction.

You jogged toward the table, curious, but Yangyang followed closely behind.

“Did she just call you Babe?” he asked, raising an eyebrow as you reached for the drink Ningning was mixing.

Ningning shot him a look. “Listen here, Mr. Liu. I know you’re into my baby, but I’m the only one allowed to call her that. Let’s get that straight.”

You laughed, your cheeks warming. “Ning Yizhou, please. Stop it.”

But Ningning and Giselle exchanged glances, their mischief practically glowing.

“Oh, they’ve definitely hooked up,” Ningning said.

“Totally,” Giselle added, nodding with mock seriousness.

“What? No, we didn’t!” you protested, your voice an octave higher as you glanced at Yangyang.

Yangyang shrugged, looking entirely too smug. “Not yet. But we’ll get there.”

“Go away!” you huffed, shoving him playfully toward the grill.

The barbecue dinner continued with hearty laughter and the smoky scent of grilled food filling the air. Plates piled high with scallops, beef, and seafood skewers were passed around, everyone digging in and teasing each other between bites. Xiaojun manned the grill with expert ease, the sizzle of the food mixing with the sounds of playful banter from the group.

“Xiaojun,” Ningning said dramatically, pointing her fork at him. “If you don’t become a chef, the world will suffer.”

Xiaojun chuckled, flipping a skewer with a confident flick of his wrist. “Thanks for the pressure, but I think the world will survive without my scallops.”

“Not if I have anything to say about it,” Giselle added, her voice mock-threatening.

Hendery, leaning back in his chair with a piece of grilled beef in hand, scoffed. “You’re all hyping him up too much. Watch him get cocky.”

Xiaojun rolled his eyes but grinned. “Just tell them you’re jealous.”

You found yourself laughing along with them, the whole evening filled with warmth and good company. The laughter seemed endless as you all shared stories, your plates refilled again and again, everyone thoroughly enjoying the meal and each other’s company. The tropical air was still, the night stretching comfortably ahead, like the perfect kind of pause before the whirlwind of activities you all had planned for the coming days.

As the evening wore on, the boys headed out to the bar as planned. Yangyang, as usual, did his best to persuade you to join them. “Come on, you really have to come. It won’t be the same without you.”

But you weren’t convinced. “You guys go ahead. We have plans tonight.”

Yangyang dramatically threw his head back, sighing as if the weight of the world was on his shoulders. “Are you seriously just gonna let me mope out there by myself?” he complained, but the teasing glint in his eyes made it clear he wasn’t really upset.

You shook your head, laughing. “I think you’ll survive without me for one night,” you said, nudging him lightly. “Go have your fun.”

Once they were gone, you and the girls settled into the cozy confines of the villa for a quieter night. You poured yourselves some wine, the gentle music from Giselle’s playlist filling the space. It was a calm, slow evening, the perfect contrast to the hustle and bustle of the days ahead. The three of you sank into the couch, chatting and laughing, catching up on things you hadn’t had the chance to talk about during the day.

“This is exactly what I needed,” you sighed contentedly, sinking into the couch.

Ningning raised her glass, eyes twinkling. “Babe, you gotta give that guy a chance,” she said, her voice half teasing, half serious. “He’s so whipped. It’s pathetic at this point.”

You snorted, raising an eyebrow. “Pathetic? More like smug and overconfident,” you shot back.

“Exactly,” Ningning agreed, taking a sip of wine. “He’s trying to play it cool, but if you take that smug grin off his face, he’s just a massive simp worshipping your feet.”

You smirked, shaking your head. “You make him sound like some love-struck puppy.”

“Well, if the shoe fits,” Ningning teased, her lips curling into a sly grin.

Giselle rolled her eyes, but there was a softness to her expression. “You seem closer now, though? What happened back at the beach?” she asked, her gaze flickering between you and Ningning, clearly curious.

“We uh,” you paused, biting your lip at the memory of kissing Yangyang. “Nothing really. I gave him a chance. I mean, what do I have to lose? We’re in Aruba and Yangyang seemed like a really fun guy.”

“He is,” Giselle added with a nod, her eyes sparkling. “But not for me. I like it better when my options are open.”

Ningning raised an eyebrow at you. “That’s ‘cause you’re a slut,” she teased, giving Giselle a wicked grin.

Giselle blinked in surprise, then smirked. “Oh, I’m a slut? Which one of us was toying with some guy the other night only to send him back looking depressed and defeated? I’m a slut?”

Ningning’s eyes lit up, and she struck a playful pose, one hand on her hip, batting her eyelashes. “You and me both, Gigi. Let’s let this boring vanilla baby have her fun with her guy. We’re rocking this island,” she said, winking.

You laughed, feigning disgust, even though you were thoroughly entertained. “You guys are promiscuous,” you said, giving them a mock disapproving look.

Ningning tilted her head and flashed a confident grin. “You mean hot and fun?” she said, clearly proud of her carefree approach.

“Hot and fun,” you agreed, rolling your eyes but smiling. “And promiscuous.”

The conversation drifted from small talk to more meaningful topics, laughter occasionally erupting as the wine worked its magic. You all took turns talking about the things you were looking forward to most on this trip—the beaches, the hiking, the sightseeing, the endless opportunities to explore. Despite the excitement for the days ahead, there was something so refreshing about the peacefulness of tonight.

“I can’t believe we’re actually here,” Ningning said, looking around the villa, her wine glass cradled between both hands.

“I know, right?” Giselle added, swirling the wine in her glass. “It’s nice, though. We’ve got a packed schedule starting tomorrow, but I love this little downtime.”

You nodded, leaning back into the cushions, letting the peace of the moment sink in. “Exactly. I’m so excited for this trip.”

“We should probably get to bed soon,” Giselle said, glancing at her phone to check the time. The hike tomorrow would be an early one, and you wanted to be well-rested for it. “We’ve got an early morning.”

“You’re right,” Ningning replied with a sigh, stretching out her legs. “But this feels so nice, I don’t want it to end just yet.”

“I get that,” Giselle said, glancing at you two. “But I’m not about to regret a single minute of this trip by staying up too late.”

Eventually, the night wound down, and you all went to your separate rooms. You lay on your bed, your phone in hand, scrolling through your phone until you stumbled upon Xiaojun’s Instagram stories. His latest post showed him and Yangyang at the bar, Hendery beside them, clearly enjoying themselves. The music was loud in the background, the neon lights making everything look vibrant and alive.

You couldn’t help but smile, tapping through more clips. Yangyang, of course, looked like he was having the time of his life, though you remembered how much he’d pleaded with you to come. You thought it was sweet how much he’d wanted to hang out with you, though you knew he just wanted to bone.

“This guy is promiscuous too,” you muttered under your breath, grinning to yourself.

As you continued scrolling, the soft knocks on your door interrupted your thoughts. You froze for a second, unsure of what you’d heard. Then came the knock again, a little louder this time. You moved across the room in your barefoot, reaching for the doorknob. When you opened it, Yangyang stood there, his hair slightly tousled, his grin as effortless as ever.

“Did you miss me?” he asked, leaning casually against the doorframe, his voice low and teasing.

You raised an eyebrow. “You’re back so soon? I thought you’d be out until at least two.”

He shrugged, stepping a little closer. “Yeah, well, Giselle said we have to wake up early if we want to join the hike,” he replied, his tone light. “Can I come in?”

You hesitated for just a moment before stepping aside. “Don’t make yourself too comfortable,” you quipped.

Yangyang slipped inside, closing the door softly behind him. His gaze fixed on you, and before you could say another word, he pulled you into a loose hug, his arms wrapping around your waist. His nose brushed against your neck, and you felt his warm breath against your skin.

“I missed you,” he murmured, his voice muffled.

You rolled your eyes. “You’re just horny.”

Yangyang straightened up with an exaggerated look of shock and indignation on his face. “Wha—no, I’m—” He stopped mid-sentence, his mouth hanging open like he couldn’t believe you’d called him out so easily.

Crossing your arms, you raised an eyebrow at him. “What? I know I’m right,” you said, your tone light but smug.

For a moment, he just stared at you, then threw his head back in laughter, the sound rich and unrestrained. “You’re so cute,” he said, stepping closer again, his grin turning wicked. His eyes sparkled with that familiar mischievous glint, and you just knew he was up to something.

“Go away,” you said, turning your back to him with mock exasperation, though you didn’t really mean it.

“Aw. Don’t I get a kiss?” he asked, trailing behind you like an eager puppy as you headed back to your bed.

You stopped, spinning around to face him. “Just a kiss?” you asked, raising an eyebrow as you perched on the edge of the bed.

Yangyang tilted his head, pretending to think it over. “Hmm… I was hoping we could do more than just kiss.”

“Goodnight,” you said with exaggerated finality, slipping under the sheets and yanking them over your head. “Lock the door on your way out.”

“Come on, honey,” he whined, tugging playfully at the edge of your blanket. “I’ve waited my whole life for this.”

Peeking out from the covers, you shot him a skeptical look. “We’ve known each other for three days.”

His grin only widened as if you’d just confirmed something he already knew. Without missing a beat, he climbed onto the bed and slid under the covers, settling beside you. His arm snaked beneath your head, pulling you closer until his warmth enveloped you completely.

“I’ll just sleep here then,” he murmured, his voice softer now. “Is that okay?”

You sighed, taking a deep breath. The weight of his arm, the steady rise and fall of his chest, and the way his presence seemed to fill the room all felt… unexpectedly comforting. Like slipping into a cozy jacket on a cold winter night, his warmth wrapped around you, lulling you to sleep.

“Yeah,” you whispered, your voice barely audible as your eyes fluttered shut. “It’s okay.”

You woke slowly, feeling the steady rise and fall of someone’s chest behind you. A weight rested lightly around your waist, warm and solid—Yangyang’s arm.

Oh. Right.

Your eyes fluttered open as memories of the night before came into focus—his teasing grin, the way he’d wriggled under your covers, and how his arms felt annoyingly comforting as you both drifted off. It was nice. Waking up with his warmth beside you was just as nice.

What you didn’t expect was the firm, unmistakable pressure against your lower back.

You froze, your half-asleep mind trying to convince you it was not what it felt like. But the more you became aware of it, the harder it was to deny.

Oh my God. That’s… definitely his...

Your face burned as you tried to wriggle away without waking him, but the movement only made you graze it. Yangyang stirred, letting out a soft, sleepy groan. Then his arm tightened, pulling you back against him—and the problem.

“Don’t move,” he rasped into your ear, his voice hoarse with sleep.

“Yangyang—”

“Shh. Please,” he mumbled, his arm tightening around your waist. “Just give me a second to, uh… recalibrate.”

You bit your lip, both mortified and fighting the urge to laugh. But then his grip on your waist loosened, his fingers brushing against the thin fabric of your shirt. The touch sent a shiver down your spine, and suddenly, you weren’t so sure you wanted to pull away anymore.

“Sorry about that,” he said, chuckling lightly. “Happens all the time.”

You turned your head slightly, catching the hint of vulnerability in his sleepy, lopsided smile. It was disarming, even in a moment like this. Or maybe especially in a moment like this.

“Must be hard for you,” you quipped, smirking because you were low-key proud of the pun.

His grin widened. “Very hard. Do you like it?”

“You wish.”

His hand on your waist slid up—testing, gauging your reaction. You didn’t pull away—instead, your fingers instinctively curled into the soft fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer. His touch grew bolder, tracing the curve of your hip and slipping under the hem of your shirt.

“Is this okay?” he asked softly, his breath warm against your neck.

Your heart hammered in your chest. This was ridiculous. Insane. And yet, every nerve in your body screamed at you to lean into it, to see where this would go. You’d spent the past few days brushing off his advances, telling yourself he was nothing more than a fun distraction. But at this moment, with the morning light casting soft shadows across the room, it felt like the only thing you wanted was him.

A long pause stretched between you, your eyes locked in a quiet conversation as you let the tension envelope the air around you. And then, biting your lip shyly—

“…Yes,” you whispered.

That was all the invitation he needed. Yangyang shifted, turning you on your back so he could hover over you. His eyes met yours, searching for any hesitation, but all he found was curiosity and anticipation. He leaned in, capturing your lips in a slow, exploratory kiss.

The kiss started slow, tentative, as if he were testing the waters. But when your hands slid into his hair, pulling him closer, all restraint fell away. He kissed you deeply, passionately, and every nerve in your body lit up like a firework.

Your mind was a blur, a tangle of disbelief and desire. How had you gone from playfully bickering with him to this? His touch, his warmth, the way he seemed to savor every second—it was almost too much, but you couldn’t bring yourself to stop.

“You sure about this?” he murmured, pulling back just enough to meet your gaze.

“Yes,” you said, breathless. “Yes.”

Yangyang chuckled softly, his tone both teasing and serious. “Just checking. I won’t be able to stop once I start, so no take-backs halfway.”

“Oh my god, Yangyang,” you huffed, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. “You’re ruining the mood. Just—come here.”

He pressed his hips against yours, and you gasped softly at the hard evidence of his desire. The sound seemed to spur him on and just as his hand trailed down the waistband of your pajamas, a loud knock echoed through the room, startling you both.

“Wake up, babe! Gigi said we’re leaving in fifteen minutes,” Ningning’s voice called out from the other side of the door.

Your heart raced for a different reason now as Yangyang groaned, burying his face in your shoulder.

“Seriously?” he muttered, his voice dripping with frustration.

You couldn’t help but laugh, your cheeks flushing as you gently pushed him back. “We should probably get up now.”

Yangyang shook his head, pressing a soft kiss to your collarbone. “Nope. I’m not going anywhere.”

Another knock followed, more insistent this time. “Babe! Are you still sleeping?”

“No! I’ll be out in a bit!” you called back, your voice a little too high-pitched.

“Okay! Breakfast is ready!” Ningning replied before her footsteps faded away.

Yangyang sighed dramatically, flopping onto his back. “Fifteen minutes? Think we can use five minutes and—”

“And ruin our first time?” you smirked, shaking your head. “I don’t think so.”

You rose to your feet, heading toward the bathroom, but Yangyang caught your waist mid-step, pulling you back on the bed and the sudden tug made you yelp.

“What do you mean our first time?” he asked, trailing kisses on your jaw down to your neck. “Are you looking forward to this?”

You rolled your eyes, exasperated. “Gosh, I hate feeding your ego so much.”

“Come on, wifey. Honesty is the foundation of every marriage,” he quipped, flashing his signature grin.

“We’re not married,” you shot back, pushing him off with a laugh. “Now go get ready. I don’t think they know you’re here, and it’s better that way. My friends are way too interested in my affairs right now.”

Yangyang gave a mock pout. “You’re kicking me out now? After everything we’ve been through?”

“Yangyang, I swear—”

“Okay, okay!” He held his hands up in mock surrender, slipping out of bed and wrapping you in one last hug. “I’ll see you at breakfast, honey.”

“Just go.”

As he left, you caught your reflection in the mirror, your flushed cheeks and wide smile revealing just how much his presence affected you. With a deep breath, you headed to the bathroom, already bracing yourself for the days to come.

The Aruba sun was relentless, its heat bouncing off every surface and making even the thought of hiking unbearable. You and your friends gathered in front of a small station offering ATV rentals, a fortunate backup plan Giselle had arranged in case of unexpected situations like weather extremes.

“I thought we were going on a hike?” Hendery asked, squinting at the information board.

“It’s too hot for a hike right now,” Xiaojun replied, fanning himself with a brochure. “So we’re going there on ATVs instead. Same view, less sweat.”

You stood beside Yangyang, his arm draped loosely around your waist as he scanned the crowd of tourists. The weight of his hand was comforting, familiar, and yet it still sent tiny sparks through you.

Glancing up, you noticed the tan line on his shoulder. “Did you put on sunscreen?” you asked, nudging him lightly.

Yangyang glanced down, momentarily caught off guard by the question. “Hmm? Yeah. I think I did.”

“You think?” you teased, chuckling. “Did you even bring one?”

“No. I did. My mom made sure I packed it before we left. She’s very thorough about this stuff.”

“Your mom did?” you repeated, your grin widening. “She’s very thoughtful.”

He chuckled, the corners of his eyes crinkling slightly. “She nagged me a lot before the trip, though. She packed this entire bag of skincare, some fancy oil thing, and bug bite ointment. You should see it. The bag’s probably bigger than your pouch of skin stuff.”

You laughed, imagining it. “That explains why your skin’s so nice. She really knew what she was doing.”

“Do I have nice skin?” he asked, genuinely surprised. He touched his cheek as if testing the claim. “Huh. I didn’t realize.”

His lips suddenly quirked into a grin, and he leaned a little closer, lowering his voice just enough to send a shiver down your spine. “Have you been checking me out?”

Heat rushed to your face, and you quickly looked away, pretending to check on your friends. “Don’t get cocky. I was just being polite.”

“Sure, sure,” he teased, his hand squeezing your waist lightly. “I’m flattered either way.”

After securing your ATV tickets, the rental staff organized everyone into pairs. The sun blazed overhead, but the excitement in the air was enough to make you forget about the heat for a while. Your friends paired up immediately, and it came almost naturally for you to get paired with Yangyang.

It wasn’t even a discussion—he had claimed you before anyone could suggest otherwise.

While the group waited for instructions, Xiaojun laughed as he wiped sweat off his brow. “You girls really saved us on this trip,” he said, glancing at Giselle. “If it were just us, we’d probably be bar hopping every night and getting tanned all day.”

“And endlessly complaining about how there’s nothing to do too,” Hendery added with a grin.

Yangyang smirked, sliding his arm casually around your waist. “Speak for yourself. I was fully prepared to wing it.”

“You? Please,” Xiaojun shot back. “If you were in charge, we’d all be passed out on the beach right now.”

“Well, good thing you’ve got us,” Giselle chimed in. “I told you my itinerary wouldn’t let you down.”

“It’s a blessing in disguise,” Yangyang admitted, his fingers tracing small circles on your hip as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

Your cheeks warmed under his touch, though you tried to act unfazed. “So, what you’re saying is, without us, you’d have no idea what you’re doing?”

Yangyang grinned down at you. “Exactly. What would I have done without you, my darling wife?”

You elbowed him lightly, trying not to laugh. “Don’t push it.”

As the staff explained the rules and safety precautions, Yangyang didn’t bother hiding how drawn he was to you. His hand shifted from your waist to your shoulder, and occasionally he leaned in close to comment on something random, like the mismatched helmets or a particularly enthusiastic tourist who was already revving their ATV.

Your friends noticed, of course. Ningning raised her eyebrows at you, a sly smile tugging at her lips, while Giselle gave you a look that screamed I’ll ask you about this later. But to your relief, they didn’t tease you outright. Instead, they exchanged knowing glances and carried on as if everything was perfectly normal.

The staff finally directed everyone to their vehicles, and Yangyang beckoned you over so he could put the helmet on you. “I’m driving so you better hold on tight.”

“Oh, so I don’t even get a say?” you teased, watching him focus on the buckle of the helmet.

“Do you want to drive?” he asked just as he finished with his task.

“No,” you replied without missing a beat. “But I still would’ve preferred it if you asked for my opinion.”

Yangyang chuckled. “You’re adorable. Alright, next time, I’ll ask you first,” he said, getting onto the ATV. You followed after him.

“Can I trust you?”

“Absolutely. Just make sure to hold on tight,” he said, glancing over his shoulder as you wrapped your arms around his waist. 

“Okay. Don’t get us killed.”

“Trust me,” he said, revving the engine. “I got you.”

The ATV lurched forward, and you tighten your grip instinctively, your laughter getting carried away by the warm breeze. You could feel Yangyang’s chest shaking with his own laughter as he expertly navigated the bumpy trail.

The ride to Conchi—Aruba’s famed natural pool—was as exhilarating as it was nerve-wracking. Yangyang seemed to live for the bumpy, uneven trails, pushing the ATV to its limits as you clung to him for dear life. Every sharp turn or sudden drop earned a loud squeal from you, and each time, he’d throw his head back and laugh like it was the best sound he’d ever heard.

“You okay back there, honey?” he called over the roar of the engine, glancing over his shoulder.

 “If I fall off, I’m haunting you!” you shouted back, tightening your grip around his waist. “Keep your eyes forward! Oh my god!”

“Sorry. I’ll drive slower,” he teased, though he didn’t ease up on the speed at all.

By the time you reached Conchi, your legs were shaky from gripping the ATV, but the sight in front of you quickly made you forget the rough ride. The natural pool sparkled under the sun, its turquoise waters framed by black volcanic rocks. Tourists crowded the area, snapping photos and dipping into the clear, refreshing water. It was a postcard-perfect scene, breathtaking enough to make you forget the heat and the crowd.

“Wow,” you breathed, hopping off the ATV.

Yangyang joined you, his hand instinctively finding the small of your back. “Not bad, huh?”

“Not bad?” You glanced at him, a grin spreading across your face. “It’s incredible.”

He leaned in closer, his lips just brushing your ear. “Told you I’d take you somewhere cool.”

You rolled your eyes. “Sure, you planned this whole thing,” you deadpanned, only playfully.

“Am I the best tour guide ever?” he asked, his grin shamelessly cocky.

“Yeah, yeah. Sure.”

The group split up as everyone wandered toward the water. Yangyang stayed glued to your side, his hand occasionally brushing yours as the two of you navigated the rocky path. When you slipped on a particularly uneven surface, he caught you immediately, his arm circling your waist.

“Careful,” he said, his tone softer now. “These rocks are sharp. Can’t have you getting hurt.”

You steadied yourself, his proximity making your heart do a weird little flip. “Thanks. Didn’t realize I brought my personal lifeguard.”

“Full service,” he quipped, winking at you. “Wait till you see my swimming skills.”

Down by the pool, Yangyang took off his shirt, revealing his toned, sun-kissed torso. You tried not to stare—tried really hard—but he caught you anyway, smirking like he’d just won something against you.

“See something you like?” he teased, tossing his shirt onto a rock.

You scoffed, though your cheeks burned. “Not at all,” you said, looking away.

“Uh-huh.” He stepped closer, leaning in as if to whisper a secret. “Don’t worry, honey. You can look all you want. It’s all yours.”

Before you could respond, he dove into the water, his laughter echoing behind him. You rolled your eyes but couldn’t hide your smile as you slipped off your sandals and joined him.

The water was cool and refreshing, a perfect escape from the blazing sun. Yangyang was everywhere—helping you find footing on the slippery rocks, playfully splashing water at you, and floating close enough that his arm would occasionally brush yours.

At one point, he swam up behind you, his hands gently resting on your hips as you stood by a shallow edge. “Having fun?”

You turned to face him, water dripping from his hair and running down his face. “Would be a lot more fun if you weren’t here,” you replied, but you didn’t mean any word.

“Aw, I know you don’t mean that, honey. Your cheeks will soon ache because you’re smiling too much,” he teased, poking your cheek.

You rolled your eyes, pushing a hand against his chest to create some space. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

But Yangyang didn’t budge. Instead, he caught your hand, his fingers wrapping around yours under the water. His expression softened, his playful smirk giving way to something more genuine.

“Thanks for letting us come,” he said, his voice low enough that only you could hear. “I like being here with you.”

You scoffed, masking the flutter in your heart with an aloof attitude. “As you should.”

The moment lingered, charged and electric. His fingers brushed yours again, sending a shiver up your spine. His eyes flicked down to your lips, and before you could stop yourself, you were leaning closer. The sounds of the pool faded, and all that existed was the warmth of his gaze and the soft rush of the water around you.

Just as your lips were about to meet, Giselle’s voice cut through the moment.

“Yangyang! Quit hogging my girlfriend and come take a picture!”

Yangyang groaned, his forehead dropping to your shoulder. “I swear, they’re like children.”

You laughed, tugging him toward the group. “Come on.”

As you two joined the others, cracking jokes and striking ridiculous poses for the camera, you couldn’t help but feel a flutter of anticipation. Yangyang was unpredictable and a little reckless, but he made you feel like the center of his world.

And, for now, you were perfectly okay with that.

The rest of your Aruba trip unfolded like a colorful dream, a whirlwind of laughter, sun-soaked adventures, and moments that made your heart skip.

You zipped across rocky trails and sandy paths on the ATVs, the wind whipping through your hair as Yangyang stayed close behind, calling out dramatic warnings like, “Don’t fall off, honey—I’m not carrying you!” 

His teasing only earned him a shower of sand as you sped ahead, his laughter echoing in the semi-desert terrain.

At the Butterfly Farm, he pretended to be afraid of the delicate creatures, flinching exaggeratedly every time one landed on him. “What if it’s poisonous?” he whispered, eyes wide with mock horror. You laughed so hard you nearly scared off the butterflies, but you couldn’t help snapping a picture of him with one perched on his shoulder.

Everyone was having a blast, until the first week passed and Yangyang realized that Giselle’s itinerary left no room for boredom—or rest. Mornings started early, with breakfast by the pool where he would dramatically yawn and stretch, groaning about how Giselle was running the group like a boot camp.

“Can’t we just have one lazy day?” he complained, his head resting on your shoulder as you sipped your coffee.

“Nope,” you replied, amused. “We’re on Giselle’s schedule now. Resistance is futile.” 

He sighed, but the glint in his eye told you he wasn’t really upset. “Do we really need to see everything Aruba has to offer?” he asked, mock-serious. “Maybe I just want to lie on the beach and gaze into your eyes.”

“Okay, lover boy,” Giselle teased, standing up. “Get up and get ready to leave.”

“Come on, Yangyang. Think of it as building stamina,” Hendery said, patting Yangyang on the back.

“For what?” he asked, grinning wickedly.

“For you-know-what?” Hendery grinned, standing up after wiggling his eyebrows knowingly.

Yangyang, still grinning, glanced at you with expectant eyes. You rolled your eyes and said, “Bye.” Then walked away before he could say anything.

Each day blended into the next, packed with scenic drives, swimming and visits to historical landmarks. Through it all, Yangyang was a constant presence—sometimes exasperated by the pace, but always finding ways to make you laugh. Whether it was by stealing bites of your food, pointing out oddly shaped rocks and giving them names, or spinning you around on the sand just to hear you squeal, he managed to make every moment unforgettable.

It was chaotic, exhausting, and utterly perfect in its own way. And even as Yangyang grumbled about Giselle’s tight itinerary, you could tell he was enjoying every second—especially the ones he spent with you.

The evenings in Giselle’s schedule were reserved for beach bonfires, sunset sails, or dancing under the stars at local beach bars. That particular night, the group had taken over a corner of a lively beachfront bar, its warm glow spilling out onto the sand where tiki torches lined the perimeter.

Yangyang stayed glued to your side as usual, his hand casually resting on the small of your back or tangling with yours as you both sipped on fruity cocktails. His presence was magnetic, and no matter how crowded the bar became, you found yourself instinctively gravitating toward him.

The live band struck up a slow, sultry tune, and without hesitation, Yangyang set his drink down, pulling you gently toward the sand where couples were swaying under the open sky.

“What are you doing?” you asked, laughing as he spun you once before pulling you in close.

“Making my move,” he said with a grin, his hands settling comfortably on your waist. “Can’t let this song go to waste.”

You rolled your eyes but let him guide you, your arms loosely wrapping around his shoulders. The music was soft, and Yangyang hummed along, his head dipping slightly to meet your gaze. For a while, you just danced, his thumbs brushing against your hips in lazy circles. His face was so close, his eyes locked on yours like there was nowhere else he’d rather be. You tried to ignore the warmth spreading through your chest, the way your heart skipped a beat every time he moved closer.

Then he leaned in for a kiss—a soft one, long, unmoving, but it left a lingering warmth after he pulled away.

“When do I get you all to myself?” he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear.

The heat that rushed to your face wasn’t entirely from the tropical air. “You’re with me now, aren’t you?” you teased, trying to keep your voice light.

“Yeah,” he said, his grip on your waist tightening slightly as he pulled you closer, your bodies barely a breath apart. “But not like this. I want real alone time.”

“You’re just horny,” you replied, masking the flutter in your chest with a laugh. 

As special as he made you feel, you couldn’t let yourself forget why you were here with him in the first place. You didn’t want to blur the line between a romantic connection and what this really was—a spring break fling. He was just a travel perk, a handsome one but still temporary. You didn’t do relationships in a place where everything was temporary, and everyone was just passing through.

“You’ll survive,” you added.

Yangyang groaned dramatically, his head dropping back in mock defeat. “You’re ruthless, you know that?”

“Oh, I do,” you shot back, grabbing his hand to lead him toward the others who were gathered by the bonfire, roasting marshmallows and laughing at Hendery’s attempts to play guitar.

As you both rejoined the group, Yangyang kept his hand intertwined with yours. Despite the banter, the tension from your moment on the dance floor lingered, charging the air between you. You focused on the laughter with your friends, on the drinks being passed around, and the warmth of company and friendship. It was easier than thinking about how you and Yangyang could have something deeper.

“Who’s that?” you asked Giselle, pointing at the guy sitting next to Ningning across from you.

“Ningning met him at the kayak yesterday. I’m not sure if they agreed to meet here or if it was a coincidence,” Giselle explained, leaning closer to you. “They look cute together though, right?”

“That’s what I was thinking! He’s so cute. Ningning has been smiling from ear to ear all night,” you giggled, genuinely giddy for your friend, but it was easier to focus on them than the thoughts tugging at the back of your mind.

It was easier to smile and laugh about Ningning’s new interest than think about Yangyang. You didn’t want to admit it, but a part of you felt that same giddy feeling whenever Yangyang smiled at you, or when he touched you in ways that felt a little too intentional.

The night went on, stretching until late. A few hours later, as the fire crackled and someone started an impromptu sing-along, Yangyang leaned over, his voice low enough that only you could hear.

“For the record,” he said, a mischievous smile tugging at his lips, “I’ll survive, but don’t think I’m giving up that easily.”

You shook your head, laughing softly, but his words stayed with you, lingering in the air. “Didn’t think you would.”

The morning started with high energy, the group gathering at the dock for your scheduled snorkeling trip. Giselle confidently led the way, tablet in hand. You’d been teasing her about her ‘vacation CEO’ vibes all week, but you secretly admired how smoothly everything had gone—until now.

“Name on the reservation?” the staff member asked, not even glancing up as they scrolled through their tablet.

“Giselle Uchinaga,” she replied with her usual crisp efficiency.

A frown crept onto the staff member’s face. “Hmm, I don’t see a Giselle Uchinaga here.”

Giselle’s expression faltered, but she recovered quickly. “Oh, I booked this weeks ago. Check again, please.”

You exchanged looks with Ningning, while Yangyang leaned lazily against the booth, clearly more entertained than concerned. After a tense back-and-forth, it turned out there’d been a mix-up—the tour company had double-booked, and there were no more spots available for the day.

The mix-up left Giselle fuming, her carefully planned itinerary crumbling right before her eyes. As she argued with the dock staff about overbooking policies, Yangyang stood off to the side, a lazy grin plastered on his face like he’d been waiting for this moment all week.

“This is a disaster,” Giselle groaned, throwing her hands up. “They don’t even have a backup option for us.”

“It’s okay. We can just go to the beach or something,” you said, offering an alternative.

“This was supposed to be the highlight of the trip!” Giselle shot back, shrugging off his hand.

You patted her back. “I know. We were excited for it too, but maybe we can try again tomorrow?”

“What about today?” Ningning asked and you shrugged.

Yangyang strode over to your side, still grinning. “How about this—we ditch the whole plan and do something way cooler?”

“Like what?” you asked, arms crossed but already sensing he was about to suggest something outrageous.

He didn’t answer, instead, he turned to Xiaojun and Hendery. “Bros, I think it’s time to do what we came here to do.”

Hendery’s face lit up. “Oh, you mean… that?” he asked, bouncing on his feet with excitement.

Xiaojun, on the other hand, appeared to be deep in thought, shaking his head. “No. I don’t think the girls would like that.”

“What is it?” Giselle prompted, looking a little impatient.

“Is it better than snorkeling?” Ningning asked.

Yangyang grinned wider. “Way better. Trust me, you’re gonna love it. And if you don’t, well… I’m used to being unappreciated.” He turned to the group, clapping his hands together. “Alright, troops, let’s roll. I know just the thing to turn this day around.”

“Is it dangerous?” you asked, narrowing your eyes.

“Only if you’re boring,” he shot back, winking at you.

That should’ve been your first clue.

Twenty minutes later, you stood on a pristine stretch of beach, the waves glittering under the midday sun. Kite-surfers were on the water, their colorful kites soaring against the bright blue sky as they glided across the surface. One of them caught a gust of wind and launched into the air, soaring for a brief moment before landing gracefully back on the waves.

“This is your plan?” you asked, incredulous.

“Yup.” Yangyang looked impossibly pleased with himself, his hands on his hips like he’d just unveiled the eighth wonder of the world.

“Kite-surfing?” Giselle asked, her voice tight. “There’s a reason we didn’t put that in the itinerary.”

“Because you’re scared,” Yangyang teased. “I get it. Kites are terrifying. I cried the first time I saw one too.”

“I’m serious,” Giselle sighed.

“I know. Look, we’ve been following your schedule all week,” Yangyang told her, pausing to raise a palm. “Don’t get me wrong, it’s a fun schedule, you totally nailed it! But a little chaos never killed anyone—well, maybe a few people, but we’re smart, right?”

“You could’ve at least warned us,” Giselle said, her tone teetering between exasperation and resignation.

“Where’s the fun in that?” Hendery chimed in, clearly in on the plan. He and Xiaojun were already chatting with the rental staff, signing waivers like this was just another day.

“This is insane,” Ningning muttered, her eyes wide with both fear and excitement. “We have to do this.”

You, however, weren’t so sure. Your eyes kept drifting to the surfers, the way the kites pulled them with such force. The idea of being at the mercy of the unpredictable wind, with the water rushing beneath you, felt more terrifying than exhilarating.

“I don’t think I can do this,” you muttered under your breath.

Yangyang turned to you, his expression softening. “Hey, you don’t have to if you don’t want to. But I think you definitely should.”

The crash course was a whirlwind of instructions and laughter. Hendery and Ningning were naturals, picking up the basics quickly and cheering each other on as they stumbled through their first attempts. Giselle grumbled her way through the setup but eventually got the hang of it, her competitive streak kicking in as she chased after the others.

Meanwhile, you struggled. The kite seemed to have a mind of its own, jerking wildly in the wind as you gripped the control bar with desperation. And Yangyang, naturally, picked it up like he’d been born to do it, showing off with spins and whoops that made you want to strangle him.

“Relax!” Yangyang called out from his board, effortlessly gliding past you. “You’re overthinking it!”

“Easy for you to say!” you shouted back, the kite yanking you forward before dumping you unceremoniously into the water.

Yangyang paddled over on his board, laughing so hard he nearly fell off. “You good, honey?”

“I hate you,” you muttered, pushing wet hair out of your face.

“No, you don’t,” he said, his grin infuriatingly charming. “Come on, let’s try again.”

The next attempt was better. The kite tugged gently, and instead of fighting it, you let yourself lean into the motion, trusting the wind to guide you. Your board skimmed across the water, the salty breeze whipping against your face as exhilaration replaced fear.

“I’m doing it!” you shouted, laughing uncontrollably as Yangyang cheered from nearby. Your other friends saw you doing it and started cheering for you too.

The thrill was addictive. With each pass, you grew more confident, your movements smoother and more deliberate. The water sparkled under the sun, and for a moment, you felt completely weightless, like you could conquer anything.

Back on the beach, you collapsed onto the sand, your legs shaky but your heart soaring. Yangyang dropped down beside you, his hair dripping and his grin smug as ever.

“See? You’re a natural,” he said, nudging your shoulder.

“Natural?” you scoffed. “I fell, like, ten times!”

“Yeah and everyone saw that,” he teased. “It’s okay, I still like you.”

The rest of the group gathered around, swapping stories of near-misses and minor victories, their laughter echoing across the beach. As the sun began to dip lower in the sky, you realized this chaotic, unplanned day had turned out to be the highlight of the trip after all. You couldn’t help but glance at Yangyang. Despite his chaotic energy, there was something comforting about having him there, cheering you on and pushing you out of your comfort zone.

“Thanks,” you said quietly, nudging his arm.

He turned to you, surprised. “For what?”

“For, you know,” you said, gesturing to the ocean. “For making me try this.”

He smiled, a rare, genuine softness in his expression. “Aw. You’re welcome, honey. What would you have done without me?”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes but didn't argue. You were sure you would've been fine without him, that you didn't need him to turn the day around. But now that it has come to this, you knew you wouldn't have it any other way.

As the sun began to descend, the sky glowed pink and orange, taking your breaths away with its magnificence. You didn’t pass up the chance to take pictures—lots of it. Everybody gathered by the beach, still in your rashguards, to commemorate the day.

Yangyang was an enthusiastic photographer, directing your poses and finding you the best spots by the shoreline. He complimented you the whole time to make you feel more confident. But after a while, the attention became a little embarrassing, especially when tourists walked by, giving you curious looks.

“Don’t look at them. Look at me,” Yangyang called out one more time, kneeling on the sand with one leg stretched out as he held your phone up. 

“That’s enough!” you whined, walking toward him and grabbing your phone. You scrolled through the pictures, skimming through them just to see the angle. 

“The lighting is really good,” Yangyang said, peering over your shoulder. “You look like a model, you know?”

“Thanks, although, you probably say that to everyone,” you teased, shaking your head.

“Nope, only the truly photogenic,” he said, smirking as he put on his sunglasses. “Which, clearly, you are.”

You laughed, stepping closer to him. “Well then, thank you. Come on. Let’s take one together.” You wrapped a hand around his arm, and he immediately grinned, his eyes lighting up.

“You sure about that?” he teased. “You don’t want me stealing the spotlight?”

“I think we both know you’re already doing that,” you shot back, your voice playful. “Now smile.”

Yangyang struck a dramatic pose, his chin tilted up and his sunglasses crooked in the most ridiculous way. “How’s this?”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “Perfect,” you said, snapping the picture.

Yangyang leaned in, peeking at the photo. “You’re lucky I look good in every shot. Makes you look better too.”

“Uh-huh, sure, Yangyang. Keep telling yourself that,” you teased, nudging his side.

He shrugged nonchalantly. “I’m just speaking facts.”

After getting dressed, the boys rounded everyone up with mischievous grins and promises of an unforgettable evening. Hendery called it, “Phase two of Operation Best Day Ever.”

“Phase two?” Giselle raised an eyebrow, grinning playfully. “Let me guess—something equally chaotic?”

“Not at all,” Yangyang replied, feigning offense. “This is the sophisticated portion of the day.”

You smirked. “Define ‘sophisticated.’”

Yangyang just waved for everyone to follow, refusing to spoil the surprise. The walk along the beach led to a dock where yachts of all sizes bobbed gently on the water. Their sleek hulls gleamed in the soft evening light, and your eyes widened at the sight.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” you said, stopping in your tracks.

“You guys booked a yacht?” Ningning gasped, squeezing your arm tighter.

Yangyang turned around, his grin as wide as the horizon. “Not just any yacht. This baby is our ride for the night.” He pointed toward a mid-sized vessel docked at the far end. It wasn’t the most extravagant yacht in the lineup, but it was undeniably impressive—its polished deck and elegant design exuded understated luxury.

“If you don’t know it yet, Liu Yangyang is rich,” Hendery quipped, slinging an arm around his friend’s shoulder. “See? Just casually throwing around yacht reservations like it’s nothing.”

Yangyang laughed, shaking him off. “If I were rich, we’d be on that one.” He gestured to a towering superyacht nearby, complete with a helipad. “But hey, this one’s cozy. We’ll call it charmingly attainable.”

“Charming,” Xiaojun echoed.

Onboard, you were greeted by the soft strains of instrumental jazz playing through the yacht’s speakers and a crew who ushered you to the deck, where a long table was set up for dinner. White linens and flickering candles added an air of elegance, and the faint scent of sea breeze mingled with hints of garlic and rosemary wafting from the kitchen.

“I have to admit,” Giselle said as she took her seat, “this is actually impressive.”

Yangyang shot her a triumphant look. “Told you. Sophisticated.”

“Don’t let it get to your head,” she replied, rolling her eyes playfully.

The first course arrived—a delicate seafood bisque served with freshly baked rolls. Hendery immediately dipped his bread into the soup, groaning with exaggerated delight. “This is what I imagine heaven tastes like.”

“Can you not sound like you’ve never had good food before?” Ningning teased, delicately spooning her bisque.

Hendery shrugged. “What can I say? I’m easily impressed.”

The banter flowed as smoothly as the wine being poured, laughter and stories filling the gaps between courses. You found yourself leaning back in your chair, soaking in the moment. The soft glow of the candlelight reflected off the water, and the gentle rocking of the yacht made everything feel dreamlike.

By the time the main course arrived—a perfectly grilled steak for some, fresh seared tuna for others—the group had reached peak comfort. Even Xiaojun, normally reserved around you girls, launched into a surprisingly hilarious story about his disastrous first attempt at surfing.

“So there I was,” he said, gesturing wildly, “upside down, tangled in the leash, and the instructor is just yelling, ‘You’re doing great!’ with his thumbs up.”

Everyone burst out laughing, Hendery nearly choking on his drink.

As dessert was served, the crew dimmed the lights on the deck, allowing you to enjoy the starry night. The sky was a vast expanse of shimmering constellations, the kind you never saw from the city.

“This really is the best day ever,” Ningning said softly, leaning against the railing.

Yangyang grinned at her. “You heard that, guys? Best day ever!” he called to the others, who cheered in response.

You wandered to the edge of the deck, letting the gentle night breeze brush against your skin. Yangyang joined you a moment later, holding two glasses of wine.

“For you,” he said, handing one over with a wink.

“Thanks.” You took a sip, glancing at him. “Okay, I have to admit—today was pretty incredible.”

He leaned against the railing beside you, his smile softening as he looked out over the water. “Glad you think so. But, uh, it’s not over yet.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Oh, really? What’s next?”

Yangyang’s grin widened. “Fireworks,” he said, pointing toward the open water with an exaggerated flourish.

You held your breath, anticipation winning over your skepticism. But after two or three minutes of nothing, you couldn’t help but glare at him. “You were lying.”

Yangyang burst out laughing, throwing his head back and stepping away as if to dodge your fist. He caught your hand instead, gently unfolding your fist and pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles.

“Sorry,” he said, his eyes warm and sincere. “This was last minute, so I couldn’t arrange the fireworks.”

You shook your head, a smile tugging at your lips. “No, don’t be sorry. Today was amazing. I was only a tiny bit disappointed because I thought there really were fireworks. Doesn’t mean you didn’t do well today.”

Yangyang chuckled and leaned closer. “Well, I might not have fireworks, but I can promise the rest of the night will be just as memorable.”

You shot him a teasing look. “Oh, really? What else do you have up your sleeve?”

“Nothing really. But I’m hoping for a miracle that would let me have my most-awaited alone time with you,” he replied, not even trying to hide his intentions.

You chuckled, but before you could say anything, Ningning gasped loudly, making everyone turn to her. She froze for a second, hand over her mouth as she looked at each of you.

“Why, what happened?” Giselle asked, looking concerned.

Ningning moved her hand from her mouth to her chest and revealed an excited grin. “Who’s up for a yacht party?”

Andre, the guy Ningning met when you went kayaking a few days ago, happened to be at the same pier as your group were. He had invited Ningning to his yacht party and told her to bring her friends. You’d met him several times, even hung out with him when he would join your group at the bars. You didn’t think he’d have his own yacht though, or that he’d invite you out there for his party.

“I mean, who could say no to a yacht party?” Xiaojun grinned, nudging the others.

“Right?” Ningning said, bouncing on her heels. “So, who’s in?”

The group erupted into enthusiastic chatter, all of them agreeing to go. You, however, found yourself suddenly feeling very tired, the events of the day catching up to you.

“Guys,” you said with a soft yawn. “I think I’m just gonna head back first. I’m a bit exhausted from all the kite-surfing earlier.”

“What? No,” Ningning said, shaking her head. “We can’t just leave you alone.”

“It’s okay. I’m passing up on this one too,” Yangyang said, casually putting a hand on your shoulder. “I’ll stay with her.”

Everyone exchanged knowing glances and smirks.

“Of course, Yangyang,” Giselle teased. “You stay with the tired one while the rest of us live it up on the yacht.” She raised an eyebrow playfully. “How romantic.”

The rest followed up with hoots and whistles.

Yangyang waved them off. “Alright, guys, don’t make it weird. We’re just keeping things chill for the night.”

“Oh sure,” Ningning added with a mischievous grin. “Just you two and a night full of... conversations, right?”

“Conversations!” Hendery affirmed, while Xiaojun was nodding beside him.

You laughed, feeling the teasing warmth of your friends, but the idea of a quiet night with Yangyang wasn’t bad at all. It felt surprisingly nice to have some space to just relax after an eventful day.

“Alright, alright,” Giselle said, finally getting the group moving. “We’ll leave you two lovebirds alone. Get some rest and have fun!”

You and Yangyang exchanged a glance, both of you shaking your heads with amused smiles as the others filed off the yacht to join Andre at the pier.

Once they were gone, Yangyang settled next to you again, his smile soft and content. “I guess it’s just us now.”

“Yeah,” you said, feeling a wave of comfort. “Just us.”

“Good,” he said, leaning back against the railing. “I can think of worse ways to spend the night.”

And with that, the two of you simply enjoyed the peace of the night, the quiet after the excitement, and the company of one another.

With your friends gone, the yacht was suddenly quiet, the sounds of the water lapping against the hull and the occasional creak of the boat being the only background noise. The dim lights above cast a soft glow on the deck, creating a tranquil, almost intimate ambiance.

You and Yangyang stood there, side by side, the space between you two comfortable. You were scrolling through your phone’s gallery, examining the pictures you took all day, deleting the ones you didn’t like and saving the rest.

Yangyang took a slow sip from his glass of wine, his eyes glinting mischievously as he studied you. “How many photos did you end up taking today? I lost count,” he said, his lips curling up into a teasing smile.

You raised an eyebrow at him, playing along. “Being pretty in a beautiful place like Aruba comes with a responsibility, Mr. Liu Yangyang. I’ve got to take the pictures. If I don’t I’d be letting everyone down.”

Yangyang chuckled, stepping closer to you, his gaze flicking over your face as if he was taking mental snapshots of his own. “Yeah, well, you’re too gorgeous. One would think I’m just part of the background in your photos,” he teased, glancing down at his own clothes as if evaluating his outfit.

“Yes, well, I’m sure you’re honored. You’re welcome,” you chimed, eyes back on your phone. “Do you wanna take a picture right now?”

“Why?”

You glanced at him, shrugging. “Just because. Memories.”

Yangyang paused for a second, his eyes darkening as if he was considering something else entirely before he reached out, gently taking your phone from your hand. His touch lingered for a moment, a spark that you both seemed to feel, but he quickly turned back to the view, lifting the phone as if it were nothing more than a prop.

“Fine, but you better not blame me if you end up swooning at how good we look together,” he said, his voice light as he pulled you by the waist so you’re pressed side by side.

You rolled your eyes again, but it was clear you were enjoying this. “You’re so full of yourself,” you teased, leaning against his chest and smiling at the camera. Yangyang pressed the button, capturing a shot of you two with the ocean in the background.

“Here,” he said, handing the phone back to you. “Don’t fall in love with me. I know your camera roll is full of pictures of me and you.”

You checked the picture, sighing. “I would have loved taking pictures at the yacht party with my girls too.”

“Didn’t you say you were tired?”

You sighed, locking your screen and facing him. “Yes. Kitesurfing was such an exercise. I just want to lie down right now. When are we going back to the villa?”

Yangyang tilted his head. “Oh, I… uh. I was actually gonna ask if you want to stay the night. You see, I booked this thing until tomorrow morning because I thought everyone would be hanging out here until late.”

“Seriously?” you asked, looking around the wide and empty deck. “We can’t let it go to waste then.”

Yangyang’s gaze dropped briefly, shamelessly checking you out. “You know, we can make the most of it... if you’re up for it.”

You looked up at him, cocking an eyebrow. “Seriously, don’t you get tired of it?”

He groaned, stomping his feet as he buried his face on your neck. “This is the first time I’m alone with you in days. Honey, please.”

You chuckled, feeling his warmth against your skin. “Wow, desperation looks good on you,” you teased.

Yangyang lifted his head. “Desperate? Yes, I’m very desperate.” His eyes flickered down to your lips before meeting your gaze again. “It’s really hard to be patient when you’re always so beautiful and sexy.”

You felt a rush of heat spread through you, but you forced yourself to stay casual. “You say that to all the girls?”

He wrapped her arms around your waist, tugging you closer. “Not all of them,” he murmured, his breath brushing against your ear. “Only you.”

You swallowed. “You really think I’m gonna fall for that?”

Yangyang’s expression softened as he reached out, gently cupping your face with one hand. “I figured you won’t. You never fall for any of my tricks.”

You stared at him, completely aware of his intentions but you did not share his eagerness. “Yangyang, shouldn’t you set the mood first if you really want this?”

“Of course. It’s not that hard. Here, let me show you.” Before you could process anything, his lips were on yours—slow and deep, tasting like wine and something more, something raw. 

The kiss deepened, and the warmth of his lips on yours ignited something in you, a heat that you were very familiar with. His hands slid to your waist, pulling you closer, pressing your bodies together. You responded eagerly, your hands finding his chest, fingers curling into his shirt as you kissed him back, the pressure building with every second. His kiss was insistent, hungry, and you could feel the tension between you both heightening, like a spark just waiting to catch.

When he finally pulled away, his breath was ragged, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, “You have no idea what you do to me.”

You couldn’t help but smile, feeling that same pull you had all day, but now stronger, undeniable. “Then show me,” you challenged.

He didn’t need any more instructions. His hands moved to your back, gently urging you toward the cabin door as his lips found yours again. The playful mood from earlier had given way to something much more intense, the teasing now replaced by need.

The yacht swayed gently, setting a calm rhythm, but inside the cabin, everything was on the verge of unraveling. The lights were dim and warm, casting a yellowish glow on the walls as you stood by the bed. Yangyang took his time watching you, his lips curling into a slow, almost predatory smile when you finally met his eyes.

“Do you always stare this much?” you teased, your voice low.

“Only when I know what I want,” he replied, stepping closer.

Yangyang’s hands found their way to your waist, pulling you closer so he could rub your hip against his aching manhood. You tried not to gasp or show just how much your skin was tingling to be touched by him. You curled your hand on his shirt, tugging it twice, urging him to take it off. He took it off just as quickly, before wrapping his arms around your smaller frame and crashing his lips into yours.

Your hands wandered, taking your time to explore his body with featherlight touches. He shuddered under your fingers when you skimmed over the muscles of his abdomen until you reached the hardness between his thighs. The slight hitch in his breath ignited something wicked inside you, something that made you smirk.

“You’re not playing fair,” he murmured, his lips curving against your neck before trailing lower.

You didn’t get the chance to respond because his hands quickly slipped under your dress, fingers tracing the bare skin of your thighs with a touch that was both reverent and infuriatingly slow. Your knees threatened to buckle when his hands found your sex, sending warmth all over your body.

When his fingers pressed and moved, your head fell back, and a soft moan escaped your lips. He kissed his way down your collarbone, lingering on the sensitive spot between your shoulder and neck. Your fingers dug into his back when he sucked a mark in your skin, and the moan that you let out only spurred him on.

Yangyang hooked his finger on the strap of your dress, letting it slip off of your shoulders. Then he buried his face between them, taking a long sniff while tightening his embrace. He tilted his head back releasing a satisfied sigh before looking into your eyes.

“My dear wife,” he began, tugging on the other strap of your dress and letting it fall. “I won’t be able to stop. So if you think you’re gonna regret this, we can end it here and pretend it didn’t happen.”

“I won’t,” you breathed, running your fingers on his neck down to his chest. “I just know that I won’t regret it.”

“Are you sure?” he asked softly, his voice low and filled with meaning.

You answered with a kiss—hungry, unrelenting. It wasn’t soft or tentative; it was a claim, and Yangyang surrendered without hesitation.

He responded fiercely, competing with your hunger, as if the mere act of touching you wasn’t enough. You moved together, falling onto the bed, and the soft sheets were cool against your heated skin. When he pulled away from you, you panicked for a second, only to scoff when you saw him pull out a condom from his pocket.

“You knew this would happen, didn’t you?” you asked, rolling your eyes playfully as he tore the packet open. Your eyes followed his every move, and the view before you made you bite your lip in anticipation.

Yangyang chuckled seeing your reaction. “I didn’t. But I’ve been carrying one every day since the day you said yes to me.”

“Oh, so you’re always prepared?”

He shrugged, sporting a smug grin as he lowered himself, one hand reaching down to spread the slick that had gathered in your cunt. “You never know when the opportunity might arise.”

He kissed you again, a feeble attempt to distract you from what was happening down below. But it was no use, a guttural moan tore out of your lips as soon as he pushed himself inside, your back arching. Yangyang planted soft kisses on your neck and jaw, shushing you gently.

“You’ve got it. I know you do,” he whispered against your skin.

You got used to the stretch soon enough, and Yangyang watched your face carefully as he rocked inside you in a steady rhythm. Whenever he thrust deeper, your body would arch instinctively, and you’d let out a whimper, the sensation blurring your mind and blooming like fire through your veins.  It wasn’t just the physicality of his touch—it was the way it seemed to unravel you, as though he knew every nerve, every secret, and was intent on exploring them all.

He swallowed your moans with a kiss that only made you more feral. You responded in kind, legs wrapping around his waist, and hands threading through his hair and pulling just enough to make him groan against your mouth. Every thrust of his hips and every movement of lips evoked sensations that left you gasping and clinging to him.

The world outside faded—there was no yacht, no ocean, no stars. Only the two of you, lost in the raw intensity of each other. The bed rocked beneath you, a rhythm that seemed to echo your movements, slow and steady at first, then building, relentless and unstoppable. You were wild with need, and Yangyang was almost animalistic with the desire to unravel you, to watch you lose your mind in pleasure.

“Yangyang,” you whined, knees on your chest as he stretched you out some more.

Your movements grew more erratic and urgent. Each touch, each kiss, each whispered name built upon the last, until you were both trembling on the edge of something immense and unstoppable.

And when you finally collapsed together, your bodies tangled and your breaths ragged, the tension in the room slowly dissolved into something quieter, softer. When your eyes met, you didn’t say anything and just breathed in sync. Then after a few moments, you two burst out laughing, seemingly at a loss for words.

“You are… incredible,” Yangyang exhaled, reaching for your hand and bringing it to his lips.

“I know,” you quipped, giggling.

You rested your head against his chest, the steady thrum of his heartbeat soothing the wild rhythm of yours. For a moment, neither of you spoke, letting the gentle lull of the yacht carry you back to reality.

“I could stay like this forever,” you murmured, your voice soft, almost drowsy.

Yangyang chuckled slowly, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “You’d make me a very happy man.”

Your smile was small but genuine, and you closed your eyes. There was no way this would last forever, but there was no point in dwelling on it. All you could do, and all you wanted to do, was to enjoy it while you still can.

The next few days unfolded like a whirlwind of adventure and adrenaline. By day, the group embraced the thrill of risky adventures. Cliff diving back in Conchi left your heart pounding, your squeals of hesitation turning into triumphant laughter when you finally took the plunge. Dune buggy rides through golden sands turned into wild competitions, Yangyang and Hendery competing to see who could kick up the biggest trail of dust, their boisterous energy infecting the rest of you.

Evenings were just as lively. Barbecue dinners became the highlight of the villa, the scent of grilled meat and vegetables wafting through the air as everyone pitched in. Hendery, the self-proclaimed grill master, charred the skewers more often than not, while Yangyang kept spirits high with his antics, attempting acrobatic flips with the food—earning him laughter and scoldings at the same time.

When the drinks came out, the nights grew rowdier. Card games devolved into noisy competitions, while Truth or Dare exposed embarrassing stories and hidden crushes. Laughter echoed through the villa as the group let loose, cherishing the carefree charm of this trip. But amid the chaos, there were moments when you and Yangyang slipped away, unnoticed—or perhaps ignored—by the others.

It didn’t take much—a glance, a whisper, or the casual brush of his hand against yours. Upstairs, the bedroom became your retreat from your chaotic friends. The air in those stolen moments were heavier, hotter, more intense. Yangyang’s teasing confidence would melt into something more fervent and more passionate as he shut the door behind you and closed the space between you.

The way he’d kiss you—slow, deep, and unhurried—never failed to make your head spiral. His hands would find your waist, tugging you closer as if you weren’t already pressed against each other’s bodies. The laughter you shared downstairs would transform into soft whispers, his lips brushing against the sensitive skin of your neck as you tilted your head back, letting him take his time.

“Damn, you’re so beautiful,” he would murmur, his voice low and thick with affection. His words would hang in the air between kisses, and though his tone carried his usual cheekiness, there was a softness there that made you feel seen in a way you hadn’t expected.

You didn’t always make it to the bed right away. There were nights when the edge of the dresser became your perch, your legs wrapping around his waist as his fingers dug into your skin. Your gasps would be hushed, and your need would be urgent, and Yangyang’s eyes would be boring into you, observing your reactions and memorizing your cues.

During the day, the intimacy didn’t vanish entirely, though it was more playful than physical. You were always attached to the hip, and would sometimes wander off by yourselves. On one lazy day when your group decided to skip going out and just lounge around the villa, you and Yangyang stayed by the poolside, enjoying the sun and the quiet.

You were reading a book on the sunbed, occasionally flipping pages, while Yangyang played a game on his phone. It didn’t last long—he soon got tired of it and squeezed himself next to you, tugging your arm until he could rest his head there. He curled up beside you, his arms loosely wrapped around your torso.

You put your book down and rested your hand on his head, absently running your fingers through his hair. “Are you bored?” you asked, smiling as he groaned and nodded his head dramatically.

“Are you a puppy? Why are you acting like one?”

Yangyang laughed softly, his shoulders rocking, but he didn’t answer. Instead, he tightened his hold on you, his face pressed into your side. You continued running your fingers through his hair—dark, messy, and had a faint minty smell. Your eyes fell on a faint scar on his elbow, curiosity sparking again.

“What happened to this?” you asked, your thumb gently brushing the scar.

“Hmm?” He glanced lazily at his arm. “Oh, it’s a surgery scar. Got it when I was a teenager after a basketball injury.”

“You played basketball?”

“Yes. I loved basketball.”

“Did you dream of becoming a pro?”

Yangyang shook his head, a small, almost wistful smile tugging at his lips. “No. I dreamed of becoming a racer. Cars fascinated me more than courts.”

“So what happened?”

“Life had other plans,” he said with a shrug, his fingers drawing absentminded circles on your side. “My mom thinks racing equals instant death. Basketball? My knee begged me to stop. And now, here I am, working toward a business degree like a good boy.”

“Would you change anything?” you asked, cringing internally at how cliché the question sounded. But you wanted to know.

“Not really,” he said after a pause, his lips quirking up. “My grandma always said, ‘If something’s yours, it’ll come back around. Even if it falls out of your hand and rolls under the couch.’ So I just let life take its course. It’s a trip, and I’m just cruising.”

“Wow,” you said, your grin matching his. “That’s surprisingly wise.”

Yangyang smirked. “Well, my gran was very wise. She’s old now though and always asks if I’m on drugs or something.”

“Are you?” you asked, your voice light and teasing.

He grimaced. “She’s the one on drugs with all those maintenance pills she keeps popping every day.”

“You sound like a really fun guy,” you chuckled, pressing your cheek on his head. “I mean, I knew you were fun. I’m just surprised you could get more fun than you already are.”

“You’re so good at getting to know people.” Yangyang lifted his head slightly, his lips brushing against your shoulder as his gaze met yours. “Wanna go upstairs and get to know me better?” he murmured, his voice low and playful.

You flicked his forehead lightly, laughing. “That’s a hard no.”

“Wow, do you hate it that much?” he asked indignantly, and you just giggled.

There was something about the way he fit into your space—or maybe how you fit into his—that felt natural, like you’d been orbiting each other longer than just a few days. Your connection had deepened, unwittingly so, in the stolen silences and the shared laughter, in the way your walls had crumbled without you even noticing.

And yet, somewhere in the back of your mind, you couldn’t help but feel the faintest hint of unease—like a reminder that this was a story with an ending. But you brushed it all off. For now, the sun was warm, the breeze carried the faint scent of the sea, and Yangyang was nestled against you, warm and snug.

The last three days passed in a blur. The energy had softened—fewer high-energy activities, more slow hours and gathering in the living room. Time seemed to slow down as the vacation drew to a close. The laughter was still there, of course, but it held some kind of weight, like everyone was trying to make each second count before the inevitable goodbye.

Yangyang and the boys still found ways to keep things lively. During the day, he joked around more than ever, teasing everyone relentlessly, especially you. Yet at night, when the group dispersed to their corners, it was just the two of you again—by the pool, on the patio, or simply sitting together in the dim glow of the villa’s lanterns.

That night, you found him leaning against the patio railing, his silhouette outlined by the faint light of the moon. He didn’t turn when you joined him, but his arm instinctively curled around your waist, pulling you closer.

“It’s going to be weird going back to normal,” you murmured, the thought slipping out before you could stop it.

Yangyang didn’t look at you, his gaze fixed somewhere distant. “Yeah. No sun, no ocean... no crazy adventures,” he said lightly, his grip on you tightening a little. “No you.”

You smiled, leaning your head on his shoulder. “I know I’m unforgettable, but you’ll survive, right?”

He chuckled lightly, and he finally looked at you. “Come on, be honest. You’re gonna miss me way more than I’ll miss you, won’t you?”

You feigned offense, placing a hand dramatically on your chest. “Excuse me? I’ve been the highlight of your Aruba experience. You be honest.”

“Highlight?” He arched a brow, his smirk widening. “I don’t know. The kite-surfing was pretty epic. The barbecue nights? Top-tier.”

“Okay, but who made those barbecue nights top-tier? Me. I’m the one who kept you from burning the villa down.”

“Fair point,” he admitted with a laugh, his shoulders shaking. “But you still owe me for losing that paddleboarding race.”

You gave him a look. “Liu Yangyang, we’ve been over this. You cheated. I was literally halfway to victory when you—”

“—skillfully redirected the board. Totally fair game,” he interrupted, grinning like the devil himself.

“Cheater,” you muttered, shaking your head.

“In my dictionary, it’s called, strategy.”

You shook your head, laughing softly. Then, like an unwelcome guest, a sudden thought struck you: what’s gonna happen in the morning?

Yangyang shifted, turning to rest his chin on your shoulder. “What’s wrong? Why are you so quiet all of a sudden?”

“Just conserving energy,” you replied lightly, nudging him with your elbow.

He hummed, unconvinced, but didn’t push. Instead, he started recounting some ridiculous story about the time he got stuck in a hammock and somehow managed to flip himself into a kiddie pool. His voice was animated, his gestures over the top, and you laughed until your stomach hurt, taking your mind off of things for a while.

That night, you shared the bed with him again, curled close like it was the only place you were meant to be. When you weren’t kissing, you talked about everything and nothing—the kind of conversation that stretched lazily through the hours. Neither of you dared to bring up what came next, but it hung in the air, unspoken yet understood. You could feel it in the way his hand lingered a little longer in your hair, in how tightly he held you when you finally gave in to sleep.

Morning came too soon.

The villa felt different, quieter, like it was holding its breath. Bags lined the hallway, and everyone moved with some kind of heaviness. Your friends hovered in the kitchen, trying to keep the mood light with jokes, but the laughter didn’t carry the same carefree weight it had days before. They talked about how Aruba was beautiful and that they wish to come back soon, how they were gonna miss the time you’d all spent together, and how everyone should keep in touch.

Yangyang, for once, was quiet, fiddling with his camera as he sat on the couch.

When you found a moment alone with him, the easy chit-chat that had carried you through the week felt harder to summon. Still, he gave you that signature smirk. “So? Did I or did I not keep my promise?”

“What promise?”

“That I’d show you a great time and make Aruba more memorable for you.”

“Barely,” you teased, though your voice wavered just enough to give you away.

He leaned in, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “Guess I’ll have to step it up next time,” he said, his tone light, even if his eyes lingered on yours for a moment too long.

You managed to smile, but the ache in your chest only deepened. There was no next time—not one you could count on, anyway. And as the villa was filled with the echoes of your friends’ chatter and laughter, you sat there and stared at Yangyang, memorizing the details of his face, his voice, and the way he made you feel.

The goodbye would come, as they always did. But for now, you let the moment stretch, hoping it might last just a little longer.

The first day back in uni was always vibrant and energetic, with students darting across the quad, groups reuniting after the break, and the faint hum of music playing from someone’s portable speaker. You spotted flyers littering every wall, announcing everything from club fairs to house parties, the vibrance was nearly overwhelming after the lazy warmth of Aruba.

You adjusted the strap of your bag, glancing over at Giselle, who seemed unusually quiet as the two of you navigated through the crowd. “Thinking about Ningning?” you asked knowingly.

She sighed, kicking a stray leaf across the path. “Yeah. Feels weird without her. I wish she didn’t have to move.”

“She’ll visit,” you said, more confident than you felt. “And you can always crash at her place. It’s not like she’s on the other side of the world.”

“I guess,” Giselle muttered, but the corners of her mouth lifted slightly at the thought.

The two of you walked into the cafe and spotted Karina and Jaemin at a table by the window, their cups of iced coffees already halfway gone. Karina waved so enthusiastically it was a wonder she didn’t topple over, while Jaemin sat beside her, his arms crossed and a lazy grin on his face.

“Finally!” Karina exclaimed, throwing her arms around you and Giselle as if it had been months instead of weeks since you’d last seen each other. “Tell me everything! I want the drama, the chaos, the juicy stuff.”

“Relax, we just got here,” you laughed, patting her on the back.

Jaemin smirked, leaning back in his chair. “Wow, and here I thought you’d squeezed everything out of them over FaceTime?”

“Quiet, Jaemin,” Karina shot back, but her grin didn’t falter. “Did Aruba live up to the hype? Don’t leave anything out.”

You hesitated, your mind wandering back to late nights on the patio, the sound of Yangyang’s laughter, the weight of his arm slung comfortably over your shoulder. 

“It was incredible,” Giselle exclaimed before you could say anything.

The four of you talked about Aruba, the breathtaking beaches, the chaos of group outings, and Giselle’s over-the-top retelling of Ningning’s escapades. You also caught up on the little things—new professors, gossip about campus life, and the inevitable groans about upcoming assignments. It was like nothing had changed at all, like your time in Aruba was a fever dream and you were getting pulled back into the real world right now. Giselle’s accounts of everything you did and experienced on that beautiful island was proof that it happened though, as well as the pictures you took every day while you were there.

“Wow. Ningning is so pretty,” Karina commented while you were showing them pictures on your phone. “I can’t believe she left.”

Giselle sighed dramatically. “Ugh, I wish she didn’t have to move. Our group’s so scattered now.”

As Karina nodded in agreement, Jaemin swiped to the next photo. “Wait, who’s that?” he asked, pointing at the screen.

Your heart jumped—Yangyang’s grin stared back at you, sunlit and easy. Before anyone could look closer, you snatched your phone.

“No one,” you deadpanned, hiding your screen and sticking your tongue out playfully.

Jaemin chimed teasingly. “Did you get a boyfriend in Aruba?”

Giselle chuckled knowingly. “Oh, she got more than just a boyfriend. She got a husband in Aruba.”

“A husband?” Jaemin exclaimed.

You giggled. “Sorry you couldn’t come to the wedding,” you teased. “It was super exclusive.”

Giselle threw her head back laughing. “More like, sorry you couldn’t come to Aruba. It was for fun people only,” she added, shrugging playfully.

“Hey. Aruba was last minute. If you’d planned it ahead of time, I wouldn’t have agreed to go with my family to Korea!”

While your friends bickered, you glanced outside and saw the campus moving on around you like it always did. Yet, something felt different—like you’d stepped into a new chapter, leaving a part of yourself behind on a sandy beach far away.

“What are you doing?” Karina prompted, peering into your screen.

“Sending an entry to Campus Confessions,” you said, holding your screen just out of reach.

She blinked. “You follow that page?”

“No. I just submit entries,” you replied, showing her after you hit send.

To: LYY We found wonderland. You and I got lost in it, and we pretended it could last forever. -xx

Karina tilted her head. “Wait, does he even know what Campus Confessions is?”

You shrugged, slipping your phone into your pocket. “He doesn’t need to.”

You put your phone away, focusing back on your friends, their chatter pulling you into the rhythm of the moment. There was plenty to say about Aruba, but some memories? Those were yours to keep.

Six days have passed since you managed to complete your second year of studying architecture. You forged to get into this college, the prestigious London School of Architecture, to add more to the flex. Needless to say, you missed home, your parents, and your cat, but things had been working out quite admirably.

It was just another Friday that you planned to waste while bingeing on some crime documentaries, unless Yangyang wanted you to hang out with him. You could never refuse. He had been your companion in the foreign land, the go-to guy, and it felt like you both almost clicked together immediately. Life with him was never lacking adrenaline, like the last time you almost got arrested for graffiti or the one time you shop lifted vintage vinyl records.

Two hours later, you find yourself wandering around the posh streets of London as you and Yangyang gossip about the college couples and bitch over the professors. The street was where men got their daily attire tailored and women never seemed to get enough of their Jimmy Choos and Burberrys. You and Yangyang appeared like two kids, untroubled about life and the future and uncertain about your choices and decisions.

"You’re just going to stare at it forever, right?", Yangyang derided as you peered through the windows of the expensive restaurant. Food was the number one priority in your life, in a sense, and it was, after all, a hard task to ignore the temptation of the place. The fine dining, the courteous waiters, and the aroma of the lavish meat assorted with the Chanel colognes.

"Staring is the only thing that I can afford right now," you defended. It was tough to pay for your classes and other expenses already. You perfectly fitted the broke student category by now.

"There is too much deliciousness over there to ignore. Let’s go in and eat it. " He made another remark. You knew Yangyang led quite a comfortable life back in Germany, but you were well aware that spending stacks on this dinner wasn’t something he would do either.

"Liu Yangyang, are thou the son of the magnates?" You inquired in a sarcastic manner.

"No, but as long as you follow what I say," he declared with a smirk. It was the exact way his lips positioned themselves right before he caused trouble.

"Not another time am I falling for it, you are just all talks. Remember the last time you almost got us-"

"What if I make it work this time?" He stifled your words.

"Then I owe you a wish." You casually stated knowing already how things would turn out.

Forty-five minutes after that conversation, you and him are sitting inside. Yangyang entirely focusing over the perfectly grilled steak while you tried to hold your laugh. It was getting more difficult with each sip of your champagne as you waited for the ring to show up. You and your best friend were going to fake an engagement. It was the only way you could devour all the food, half of which was already in your digestive systems by now.

"I swear if you keep on bursting out every thirty seconds like this, then we are spending the rest of this night cleaning their dishes." The last time he wore this expression was when he got caught cheating on his structure theory exam.

"Alright, I’m trying my best, but getting engaged to you would be funny for anyone." You teased.

Yangyang got onto his knee instantaneously. You knew it was coming, but not all of a sudden. He pulled out a box from his pocket, inside which sat the diamond studded ring. You wondered if he had everything planned ahead of time but his  contrasting H&M shirt made you think otherwise. He wasn’t the type to propose without a trail of roses and fireworks around. You knew him by now.

"Y/N, will you marry me?" asked his mouth with that perfect gummy smile and eyes that contained starts in them. It almost felt like you fell for him at that moment, but falling for your brainless and unnatural best friend seemed ridiculous.

The clock hinted at eleven: sixteen when you reached back to your rooms. The ring still fitting your fourth finger. The day marked another wild achievement of yours and Yangyang’s. He sat on your bed, pulling out his socks as he refused to go back to his own room, which was just adjacent to yours.

"Does my wish still stand, Y/N? Did you forget about it? " The boy enquired.

"It would have been fantastic if you returned your assignments at that same pace, Yang." you reverted. The banter between the two of you was relentless.

You turned around as no response arose from the other side, only to witness Yangyang’s face, a face he had never shown you before. His eyes grew dark, as if he desired something. The aura around the room grew sensual. To add to the benefit, you seemed to enjoy it. He looked at you with such a call that you couldn’t help but gravitate towards him.

Yangyang wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you closer. Although you had been this close to him a couple of times before, but this scenario was entirely disparate. Your fingers naturally cupped his cheeks. The room fell away. He was no more your brainless and unnatural bosom buddy but one very fine young lad in his early 20s. You could feel his breath tingling over your ears as your cheeks turned plum shades. He planted a kiss on your lips and not a second later, you were already making out like some teens.

The kiss felt impulsive but yet so sensual and carnal. You both needed each other. It was not until your tongue met his that you realized you were basically starving. Yangyang’s lips were adorned with the tint you gifted him for not failing at his classes. But there was an absence of the awkwardness and cringe that on normal days you would label romance, but fuck it, you were too in the moment. You kissed each other on the lips again and again as you craved for it to reach your heart, which it did. Gradually, you both pulled away from the kiss as your noses brushed against each other’s.

"So was this all you wanted? Not too bad for the dinner and engagement, I must say. " You commented.

"Yes." He said. His perfect gummy smile and the manner in which his nose scrunched made you ponder if he was real. But you had different plans for the night.

The next morning, you were woken up by your regular alarm. Still half asleep in Yangyang's arms. You could not care less about the alarms that day and after the night you witnessed. How a simple wish of a kiss turned into two kids losing their virginity.

You turned your head up to take a glance at him, soundly asleep like a baby. His brown highlighted locks covering up his forehead. He looked like a cute little sheep. Meanwhile, you internally debated your feelings. Was this love? Or just your mind and heart collectively teaming up to play games with you? Although you got engaged to him last night, you were now scared to face the reality. It was all a fake and the end was coming near. You also feared for your friendship. Would things still remain the same between the two of you after this night?

You were so engaged with your thoughts that you took no notice of Yangyang. He was up, his lips curved into a smile. He squeezed you tighter and pecked your lips. Blood rushed to your cheeks at an extraordinary rate.

"Good Morning" he greeted with his raspy voice and it was never before this moment you found it attractive. He took your hands and interlocked your fingers with his as he gazed over the ring. "Pretty isn’t it?" he asked. You hummed in response. His eyes met yours. No words were required to do the talking; it was a language between you and him.

"You could wear it Y/N, but at least give me a chance to propose to you with all the pomp and show, flowers raining down, kids releasing balloons in the sky, and fireworks bearing Will You Marry Me" he explained his idea with a cheeky grin.

"Yang, I hate you" you said.

"I love you too" right before his lips met with yours, once again.

LET ME KNOW YOUR VIEWS + ALSO SEE : MASTERLIST

⋰˚☆

It all went back to that day in third grade. That fateful day when Liu Yangyang, the snotty idiot who lived a house over, smashed your face into your birthday cake just as you were finished blowing out the candles. Your brother laughed at you too, that asshole. With clumps of red velvet and cream cheese frosting stuck to your cheeks, you sobbed until his mother had to come pick him up and make him apologize the next day bearing a box of ferrero rochers as compensation for the emotional damage.

It was certainly the worst memory of your life. Ever since you could remember, Yangyang had always been the cause of your worst memories: when he beat you in the election for class president in eighth grade and put extremely sarcastic apology chocolates in your locker, when he found out you had a crush on his friend Yukhei and told the whole school the next day, or when he stole Chenle’s favorite set of crisp neon highlighters and put them in your desk. You got detention when the teacher found out.

Even last week, he snuck outside and dumped hot sauce into your morning coffee perched on the windowsill facing his house. You learned to never put your mug anywhere near the windows after that.

Liu Yangyang was the bane of your existence. And the worst part of it was that he was your neighbor. You could not escape him, quite literally, and he didn’t seem to want to leave your life anyways. In short, with him around, there was no peaceful way to live your life. It was almost as though he made it a daily goal to disturb you.

Of course, there were some days where he wasn’t so bad. Three years ago, he ordered you jjajangmyeon and had it delivered to your door when your parents weren’t home, and he knew you didn’t know how to cook. Albeit, that was the last time you could remember he was sweet to you.

Even now, TV blasting some obscene horror movie out his windows, he was an annoying presence in your life. Not enough to be a bully. Maybe just a mosquito.

You groaned in annoyance, slamming down your laptop on the cushion of the coach next to you as you stood up, stomping your way over to the window and leaning off the window sill. The night breeze was soft on your face, and you could see Yangyang sitting on his couch inside, curled into a little ball underneath a blanket as he watched the rapidly flashing TV with rapt attention.

“Turn down the fucking TV, nerd!” You yelled out the window, attempting to be heard over the loud screaming of the girl on the screen who appeared to be in agonizing pain as the antagonist ripped out her intestines. Yangyang slipped a piece of popcorn into his mouth, reaching for the remote and silently turning the volume up. You huffed, and  a satisfied expression passed over his face as he snuggled deeper into his blanket. His cozy position pissed you off. You reached your arms through the window frame, slowly climbing out, wearing only your thin pajamas that did nothing to protect against the cold wind. Upon seeing your exit, Yangyang paused the show and ran over, severely alarmed.

“The hell are you doing? Go back inside you little creep.”

“I’m the creep? I’m not the one who watches a girl get murdered every other night.” He rolled his eyes, leaning his elbows against the window frame while you dusted the dirt from your shorts, now safely on the ground.

“Maybe I’m imagining it’s you.” “You’re a very scary person.”

“I know.” He said with a little smile that made you want to slap him across his face. When neither of you moved, he flicked your forehead, making you gasp and grab the sore area with a scowl. “What’re you still doing outside?”

“I’m not going inside until you turn the volume down.”

“Suit yourself.” He shrugged. “If you wanna stay outside in the cold by yourself, that’s your problem, not mine.”

“I will talk over the entire movie.”

“I can always shut the window, dumbass.” He said, before slamming the glass in your face, going back to his nest of blankets and laying down comfortably. 

You supposed you could have gone inside at that point. After all, his window was shut and the sound of horrific murder wouldn’t be as loud, likely quiet enough for you to study in peace, maybe even read a bit after with the sweet, sweet sound of utter silence. But this was Yangyang you were talking about. Hell would freeze over before you let him live peacefully. Plus, you could still hear the screaming through the glass, and that was enough of a reason to keep bothering him.

Not a minute passed before you began to rap your knuckles on the window. He didn’t pay attention, and you sped up to double time, wrists beginning to hurt from flinging your fists back and forth for so long at a time, and after multiple minutes of glass rattling knocking, he sat up and opened the window again. 

“What. The fuck. Do you. Want?” He staggered his sentence exasperatedly, and you flicked your fingers towards the remote in his hand. 

“Turn down the TV.”

“You’re welcome to join me if you don’t like hearing it from across the street.”

“As if.” You scoffed. “I’m trying to study, so I’d appreciate it if you’d spare me some silence for a few minutes.” He pondered dramatically, hand on his chin before sighing and strumming the windowsill with his long fingers.

“Yeah, I suppose I could do that for you.” Your eyes widened in surprise. This had to be the first time in years that Yangyang actually agreed to do something for you, anything at all. It was nice. Suspiciously nice, and it made you admittedly uncomfortable.

“Are you serious?”

“I look serious, don’t I?” The answer was undoubtedly yes. You narrowed your eyes at him suspiciously, before making your way back to your window.

“Alright. Thanks then.” You said dubiously, and he gave you an angelic wave before disappearing into his living room, snuggling below the blankets once again.

Yangyang didn’t lie. Once you were safely through your window —you found that getting back inside was a much more complicated ordeal than getting out— you sat down with a warm cup of tea and your laptop, ready to crack down on your chemistry homework with some serious grit and determination.

A few minutes later, the screaming was back. You could hear laughing from the house over as you grit your teeth painfully tight. You leaned outside the window, but you saw he had beat you to it, head poking out the window with a shit eating smile.

“You said a few minutes.” And then he slammed the window shut.

You ended up calling the police. There was a mysterious screaming coming from the house over and it just wouldn’t stop, you told them, and a squad of policemen arrived at Yangyang’s door shortly after 11 pm, ready to catch a serial killer, not a 5’8 teenager in red sheep pajamas clutching a glass of milk in his right hand and a snickers bar in his left.

Did you almost get him arrested? Yes. But was it worth it to see the look on his face when the officers knocked him down and pinned his hands to his back? Also yes.

That’s what you get for not turning down the TV.

⋰˚☆

As usual, there was a knocking upon your front door at 7:30 am. No, it wasn’t Yangyang, but your best friend Karina swinging by the walk you to school like usual with a croissant in her hand and dark circles under her eyes. She didn’t bother to listen to your morning greeting, just stepping inside, seeming like she might nearly pass out with a mouthful of flaky pastry.

“Give me coffee.” She deadpanned. It wasn’t a question, but a demand, and one that you had gotten used to quite quickly. You reached for the steaming pot on the coffee maker and Karina’s favorite mug: with the blue hearts, of course.

“I assume you didn’t sleep well?” You chuckled, handing her the cup of steaming coffee, and she sipped it without a change of expression.

“When do I ever?” She asked rhetorically with a sigh, downing almost the entire cup in one go and slamming it down on the counter like a shot cup. “Hit me again.”

“You’re going to have a heart attack. C’mon you caffeine freak, let’s go.” You said, taking the mug from her painfully tight grip and setting it down on the table, before you looped your arm through hers and led the comatose girl out the door.

“I’m going to kill Hendery next time I see him.” She said suddenly, and you rolled your eyes at the familiar name. Hendery, Karina’s loving but very odd boyfriend, always seemed to cause problems one way or another.

“What’d he do this time?”

“He keeps taking shit from my closet, and he thinks I don’t notice. It’s so stupid, why does he think I don’t see him? He tried shoving my shirt under his hoodie, and when I asked him why he had a bulge under his shirt he said, get this, that he was pregnant. I’m breaking up with him.”

“Rin, I’m sure he just wants something to remember you by.” You said, rubbing her back and attempting to soothe the girl, who looked at you like you just told her the sky was purple.

“I’m not dead, y/n.” Before you had a chance to give her a proper snarky response like she deserved, a 5’8 thunderstorm of a boy ran out of his front door and headed for you like a missile, hands outstretched and ready to attack, maybe pull out a bit of your hair if things went his way.

“Y/n Qian!” He screeched, landing on you before you got a chance to try and run away. He lifted a fist, then realized he wasn’t quite sure what he was going to do once he was on top of you, simply holding the fist in the air threateningly without much action behind it. “You called the fucking cops?!”

“You deserved it, you little freak!” You said, and clearly you had more inspiration to use your fists than he did, slapping him away and escaping from his grasp. “Next time, maybe pipe down the agonizing screaming when it’s almost midnight!” Karina helped brush the dust off your uniform, not even phased by the fighting.

“I almost got arrested.” He pouted, brushing off his own blazer with a petulant frown. “One big guy knocked me over and pinned my hands to my back. It was traumatizing. You’re lucky I’m not suing for intentional infliction of emotional distress.”

“I know, I watched the whole thing.” You said smugly. “The sheep pajamas are adorable, by the way.” Yangyang’s eyes lit in flames, and he scrambled to grab you.

“You little-” You grabbed Karina’s hand and ran, laughing as the boy failed to try and keep up. “Y/n! When I get my hands on you-”

“What happened this time?” Karina asked flatly, Yangyang’s voice fading as he struggled to run after you, and you shrugged nonchalantly.

“He wouldn’t turn the TV down.”

“Of course he wouldn’t.” She exhaled exasperatedly, assisting you in running away, hands clasped together as the two of you flew down the street, hoping to reach the school before the fiery blond did.

It was safe to say that Karina was very used to your bickering.

⋰˚☆

“So, when you’re calculating the cosine of an angle, you have to remember that the cosine is equivalent to the ratio between the adjacent side to the hypotenuse-”

“Y/n.” A voice whispered from behind you, and you inhaled sharply at the interruption, trying to focus on teaching the confused boy in front of you.

“We can see that the hypotenuse is equal to 35.4 so-”

“Y/n” He whispered again.

“So if the adjacent is equal to 12-”

“Y/n!” He whispered more urgently this time, and you let out a slow exhale, attempting to ignore the hissing boy.

“Uh, I think someone’s trying to get your attention.” Xiaojun said quietly, pointing to Yangyang, hanging off the edge of his chair behind you and leaning as close as he could to your table without physically touching it. Upon Xiaojun’s comment, you reluctantly whipped around, tongue poking into the side of your cheek with annoyance.

“What do you want?”

“Can I borrow a penci-”

“No.” You cut him off immediately, tossing a crumpled paper at his face, which made him scrunch up his nose, picking it up off the floor and throwing it at the back of your head as he rolled his eyes.

“Please, I left my case at home.” He begged.

“Sounds like a you problem.”

“C’mon, you almost got me arrested this morning, you owe me.”

“I don’t owe you shit.” You said with finality, and he seemed to give up, sighing and turning around in his seat to bother one of his seatmates —you didn’t get why he didn’t ask them from the start— and in turn, you went back to your tutoring.

“You almost got him arrested?” Xiaojun asked with wide eyes, and you sighed.

“It’s a long story.”

“This is a long class.” You flicked him in the forehead, which dampered the anticipating grin on his face.

“Answer the problem, then I’ll tell you.”

“Yes ma’am.” Xiaojun said, pulling out the pencil from behind his ear as he gripped his note cards seriously. A few seconds into the problem, he paused, hand hovering over the paper and only a few marks on the page from the lead of the pencil. “I may need some help with that.” He scratched his head cluelessly.

“You definitely need some help.” You said, turning the page so it faced you both and pointing to a variable with your pencil, slowly teaching him the equation. 

A few minutes into your session, Xiaojun pressed a bit too hard on the page, the tip of his pencil snapping as the bits of lead scattered across the page, staining the white paper a dark gray. He sucked in a breath between his teeth.

“Fuck, I forgot my pencil sharpener.” He groaned, and you reached into your pencil case, removing a pencil and handing it to him like it was nothing.

“Here you go. I have a spare.” His eyes lit up gratefully.

“Thanks, y/n.” He said with a smile, getting back to the page, and you waved off his thanks casually. From the seat behind you, Yangyang tugged his lower lip between his teeth, bending his head down and attempting to focus on the page of problems before him, yet he found his mind wandering.

“So she did have another pencil…”

Lunch rolled around before you had time to properly finish working on your homework, and you and Xiaojun parted ways, the latter with somewhat of a more refined understanding of the material than he had when he first entered the classroom. Satisfied with your tutoring job, you exited the classroom ready to meet up with your friends for a peaceful lunch. Your mom had packed bibimbap for lunch today, your favorite, and you couldn’t wait to eat it.

The birds were chirping, the breeze was soft and gentle, and it felt nice on your face. Even your teachers had been more gracious than usual, sparing you from the daily 3 page trigonometry packet with the excuse that summer was coming soon, albeit it was likely just because they didn’t want to grade anything. Today was undoubtedly a nice day, and you couldn’t wait to sit at your favorite spot for lunch, under the biggest willow tree on the edge of the courtyard, with your friends and enjoy the winter day. Nothing could spoil your good mood today.

Except for maybe one person.

“Lend me the notes for Chemistry, will ya?” Yangyang yawned, his delicate hand hovering over his mouth, the corners of his eyes watering as he rested his elbow on your shoulder, following while you walked.

“Why should I?” You scoffed, and he did that stupid pouting face he always does whenever he wants something from you, bottom lip jutting out and eyes wide.

“C’mon, please? I slept through fourth period and nobody woke me up.”

“That’s your fault for watching horror movies until the ass crack of dawn.”

“Oh, so you were paying attention to me?” Yangyang wiggled his eyebrows, and you grit your teeth. “God, can you just leave me alone? I’ll never love you back. This is a romance destined to fail. I’m afraid I can’t reciprocate.” He pressed the back of his hand to his forehead dramatically, and you slapped him on the arm aggressively, making his skin prickled. “Ow!”

“In your dreams, idiot. Go find some other poor, unsuspecting victim to get your notes from. I’m not giving shit to you.”

“But I want your notes.” He said, continuing to follow you like a lost puppy, even when you got to your meeting spot under the willow tree. Your friends waved, having anticipated your arrival but rolling their eyes when they saw the boy trailing after you.

“Ay, scat, you twat.” Ten said, waving Yangyang off with one of his hands, nails painted a bright red and rings scattered across his fingers. “We want a peaceful lunch.”

“I’ll scat when I feel like it, Mr. Chittaphon.” The younger boy said, crossing his arms as Ten leaped up defensively, but Sicheng put a hand on his arm and pulled him back down. “I’ll talk to you later about the notes.” He turned his attention to you.

“Or you could not.” You groaned, sitting down, but Yangyang blew a sarcastic kiss and walked away, hands buried in his pockets as you skittered to the best spot under the shade, resting your head on Karina’s lap, despite the glare Hendery gave you.

“Jesus, he’s a bother.” Ten grumbled, now spread out on a gingham picnic blanket with a sandwich clutched in his hands, his grip on it so tight, it was obvious he was imagining the dusty blond’s face on the bread. “I don’t see why you put up with him.” “It’s not really like I have a choice.” You sighed, rolling off Karina’s lap and onto your stomach, kicking off your shoes and letting your feet rest on the dewy grass. “I live next to him, after all.”

“You live next to him?” Xiaojun piped up with wide eyes, and you suddenly became aware of his quiet presence, clearing your throat and suddenly wishing that your feet weren’t so bare and exposed.

“You must be new here.” Ten said nonchalantly. “That reminds me, who is the cutie with the blue hair?” At his comment, the cerulean haired boy stiffened up.

“This is Xiaojun.” Hendery said, pushing him from the back, making the awkward Xiaojun stumble forward slightly, and he seemed to retract like a crab out of its shell, legs tensing up and crossing. He had never seen so many eccentric people in one little space before. With the combination of Ten’s spiky turquoise hair and dog collar, plus Hendery's strange extrovertism and terrifying customer service smile, he was beginning to regret sitting with the group until you waved sweetly.

“Yeah, n-nice to meet you guys.” He said, waving back.

“Don’t ask him if he’s single.” Karina threatened Ten, who shrugged and went back to eating his sandwich. “He just transferred from China, so don’t try it.”

“Ah, so he’s fresh meat.” Ten said, rubbing his hands together. “Welcome to hell, buddy. You got lucky, you just found the most tolerable group of people in SM High.”

“Tolerable is one word.” Xiaojun laughed nervously, and Hendery pinched his cheek before laying down on Karina’s thighs happily.

It didn’t take long before everyone split off into their own conversations, Karina and Hendery bickering about whether a butt was one or two things —he said two and she said he was stupid—, and Ten seem preoccupied with trying to cling onto Sicheng, who harshly rejected him every single time. That left you and Xiaojun, sitting a few feet from each other awkwardly, not sure what to say.

“Sorry about them.” You laughed gracelessly. “Uh, you might be better off moving to a different friend group if you don’t want to be looked at sideways.”

“I don’t mind. I think I’ll get used to it.” Xiaojun said sweetly, and you swore your heart skipped a beat when he looked at you like that, eyes crinkled into crescents and a soft smile on his pink lips.

“I hope so.” You cleared your throat, looking away, and he looked down awkwardly at the broken contact. “Uh, did you finish the homework?”

“Thanks to you. I should really start paying for the tutoring.”

“No need. I’ll gladly do it for free.” You said, and his cheeks flushed red slightly, fingers twiddling with each other in his lap nervously.

“I appreciate that. Me being new and all, sometimes it’s a bit hard to adjust. Thanks for making that easier.” A smile broke out on your face before you could stop it, and your annoyance from the day dissipated in an instant at the sight of his soft grin.

“Anytime.” 

⋰˚☆

Jealous was a good word to describe Liu Yangyang. What’s his was his, what’s yours was his, everything was his, and he didn’t like to share. He may seem cute, but he guarded his belongings like a feral animal at the slightest threat that they might be taken away. You found this out in fifth grade when you threatened to steal his new air Jordans, and he grabbed a fistful of your hair and wrenched like his life depended on it.

Which is why he wasn’t very pleased to discover that you hadn’t had much time for him lately. Not that he wanted to hang out with you. He simply found that having less time to annoy you meant having less fun.

“Lemme get one of those.” You whispered quietly, pointing at the bag of fruit snacks in his hands silently to prevent your request from being detected by your drawling teacher. He held out the bag to you, but before you could get one out of the bag, he snatched it away with a smug look on his face, tossing another of the delectable fruit gummies in his mouth with a satisfied pop. “Asshole.”

“That’s what you get for not lending me your notes.”

“You’re still stuck on that?”

“When have you known me to let go of a grudge?” He had a point. You leaned back in your seat, arms crossed as you let out a frustrated little huff. He took notice of your pouting, rolling his eyes. “C’mon, you’re not actually annoyed, are you?”

“Who says I’m not?” Reluctantly, and after a bit of thought, he finally held out the bag to you with a serious look in his eyes, pressing his lips together. An excited look passed over your face, hand extending to reach for the bag.

“Thanks-” He snatched it away.

“When hell freezes over.” He munched. God knows how much you wanted to punch him sometimes.

Just as you raised your hand to give him a well deserved slap on the arm, a smooth voice interrupted from the seat over, quietly whispering as he leaned in.

“Hey, do you have the notes from last period? I missed the lecture because of orientation.” Xiaojun whispered, and you looked up mid-motion, slowly bringing your hand back to your side with a sheepish smile.

“Ah, yeah.” You reached into your bag, removing a firetruck red notebook filled with post its and doodles made with pen, flipping halfway through the pencil covered pages before handing it over. “The next four pages.”

“Thanks.” Xiaojun said with a smile. “We still on for tutoring today?”

“Always.” You gave him a thumbs up and he happily flipped through your notes, jotting them down in his own notebook silently.

“Hey.” Yangyang nudged you in the side, and you sighed at the sudden intrusion. Mood killing seemed to be Yangyang’s specialty as of late. “How come you tutor him but not me? I have worse grades.”

“Is that something to be proud of?” You raised an eyebrow and he shrugged. “He just transferred. He needs help adjusting to the curriculum.”

“But you do it for free.”

“Xiaojun doesn't need to pay. You, on the other hand, would have to lasso the moon for me to tutor you. Pay attention and you won't need my notes.” You said, flicking him on the forehead and pushing him away. 

Yangyang wasn’t jealous. Yangyang wasn’t jealous at all, at least that’s what he told himself whenever you didn’t have enough time for him.

⋰˚☆

“I’m not sure I understand this formula.” Xiaojun said, the tip of his pencil tucked between his lips in the corner of his mouth. “What’s this variable stand for?”

“The length of the horizontal major axis.”

“I thought that was b?” He said, visibly confused, and you chuckled under your breath, leaning a bit closer to the paper, and to the blue haired boy, to get a better view of the problem that was confusing him so badly.

“No. When you’re using the formula for an ellipse, you have to put x-h to the second power, over a squared.” You explained, hand on the paper as you demonstrated, your thighs touching lightly. You barely noticed that you were practically glued to each other’s sides until Yangyang cleared his voice loudly from behind you.

“If you could refrain from clinging onto him, he might understand the work better.” He said, dropping a ball of crumpled paper onto your hair, which you yanked off and tossed to the ground, rapidly pushing away from Xiaojun, the latter looking very surprised.

“Piss off. Like you’re one to be talking about understanding work.” You scoffed, tossing an eraser at him, but he caught it before it could make contact, curse his reflexes.

“Your loss of a perfectly good eraser.” He shrugged indifferently, turning the eraser over in his hands and giving you a smug smile. “Thanks.”

“You’re very welcome.” You simpered facetiously, and he turned back to his seat, but not before sticking his tongue out at you childishly. “Christ…” You groaned, rolling your eyes and turning back to your tutoring sessions.

“Why does Yangyang bother you so much anyway?” Xiaojun asked curiously, leaning it to prevent the younger boy from hearing his inquisition. You weren’t really sure you had an answer for him. Your bickering with Yangyang had gone on for as long as you could remember, ever since he was old enough to formulate proper insults and you were old enough to summon up a comeback. Neither of you questioned why you didn’t like each other, you just didn’t: simple as that. 

“Because he’s an asshole.” You said simply, which was essentially the short version of your internal monologue. “And he likes to make me mad.”

“You seem to like to get mad.” Xiaojun said, and you glared at him fiercely as he raised his hands in silent surrender. “I just mean- I don’t know what I mean.”

“He doesn’t like me.” You said, wielding your pen like a weapon as you shook it matter-of-factly. “So he decided to annoy me. There’s no reason.”

“It doesn’t seem like he doesn’t like you.” Xiaojun said, and you narrowed your eyes, raising your eyebrows like a challenge to his statement. “I think he rather likes you, in fact. What kind of person would spend all their time thinking about something if they didn’t like them?” His question made you wonder. Was he right? Did Yangyang really just annoy you because he liked seeing your reaction? Did he maybe not hate you as much as you think he does?

You shook your head, banishing all thoughts from your brain as you tapped on the paper with your pencil.

“I’d rather not think about Yangyang liking me. That’s a pretty scary thought, you know.” Xiaojun shrugged, his eyes lingering on you for a moment, even though you had already looked away, before he turned back to the assignment.

“Y/n!” Xiaojun yelled after you as you rushed out of class, not wanting to be caught by a particular dusty blond who would insist on your help. Xiaojun caught up to you, trying to match your quick pace. “Let’s have lunch.”

“I thought you didn’t want to sit with the others?” You laughed. Xiaojun hadn’t joined your lunch group after a particular incident with Hendery a few days previous. It wasn’t a great story, but let’s just say it involved a violation of the poor boy's backside. Seems Hendery found a new victim to his pranks once Sicheng got used to them.

“I’ll get over it soon.” He laughed nervously, subconsciously rubbing his ass. “But no, I meant just the two of us. There’s good hot pot down the street, I thought it might be nice to relive my time in China for a while.”

“I love hot pot!” You exclaimed excitedly, digging through your pockets for your wallet. “I'm happy to go, if I have the money.” Xiaojun waved you off.

“It’s on me. Consider it payment for the free tutoring.” He flashed a charming smile that made your heart speed up to double time.

“If you’re sure.” You said, slowly putting your almost empty wallet back into your pocket. Not that you’d admit it to anyone, but you were running short on funds recently. Maybe you’d think about taking up Yangyang’s offer to tutor him.

“Come on,” He said, gently taking your wrist and pulling you along. “I’ll show you where it is. It’s not far.” 

When he touched your skin, a tingling feeling went straight through your nerves and up your spine. You could smell his green tea hand lotion from a mile away and see every strand of cerulean hair poking out from his shaggy bangs. He smiled softly at you, pulling from the front, not paying attention to anyone that watched you exit. As you passed your typical eating place, you could’ve sworn you heard Ten wolf-whistle, but you walked past without paying any attention. All you could see was the boy before you, and how magnificent he was. Maybe you had spent so much time craning over your schoolwork that you became numb to how beautiful he was, because you were suddenly wondering how you had spent so many hours sitting within a one foot proximity from him when he had a gaze like that. In fact, you could begin to feel your palms get sweaty from the contact, and you lightly wrenched your hand from his. He didn’t seem to react very strongly.

It didn’t take much time before you were off campus and clear of the security guards, only the two of you to pay each other company on the short walk. There was a pleasant breeze, cold wind sweeping through your hair and clothes, leaving you a bit chilly and wishing you hadn’t worn a tee shirt in the middle of winter, silently cursing your brother from taking back his old jacket —and your current favorite one— the minute he got home from college. Xiaojun seemed to notice the way your teeth chattered, looking around for something to do. He himself was only wearing a thin button up, not much to offer unless he stripped, so he did the first thing he could think of. He took his hands in yours, cupping them together and breathing into them, the heat warming your palms and sending a shock up your spine. You sure didn’t feel cold anymore, your cheeks the temperature of Florida in summer.

“Are you cold?” He asked with concern, your chilled hands still grasped in his, and you shook your head feverishly.

“N-not at all.” You stuttered, and he nodded, letting your hands drop but not separating them, tucking both of your hands into the pocket of his baggy pants. Neither of you spoke about the arrangement, simply walking in silence. Suddenly your tongue felt a bit too awkward to sit comfortably in your mouth, and all the questions you wanted to ask were stuck in your throat, swallowed up before they could see the light of day. So you settled on silence, walking hand in hand and wishing that the shop would show up soon, because you didn’t want him to feel how clammy your hands were adn your speedy pulse pounding in your wrist.

“Ah, we’re here.” Xiaojun said with a smile, releasing your hand, and you let out a silent breath of relief at the lack of contact, although your hand felt significantly more lonely than it did a moment before. You mirrored his smile, setting your hands down on the back of a wooden chair and lowering yourself into the seat comfortably.

The restaurant was small, albeit comfortable. It was cozy and homey, the walls covered in movie posters and little vases of a single daisy on every table, the crystal reminding you of the vases your mother used to keep around the house.

“It’s nice.” You breathed, your breath no longer visible in the air. “And warm.”

“It’s my cousin’s.” He said suddenly, and your eyes snapped to him in surprise. “I suppose I forgot to mention it. I came to live with him after I moved to Korea.”

“Why did you move to Korea after all?” You asked curiously, and he took a seat across from you, sitting down with a little sigh.

“I wanna be a singer.” He said nonchalantly, and your eyes lit up in excitement.

“You can sing?!”

“A-a little bit.” He stammered, clearly flustered by your enthusiasm. “Most of my family are singers. I’m actually the worst one.”

“Gosh, I’m sure that’s not true! I can already imagine you on a stage. You have to sing for me sometime.” You said with finality, extending a hand, and after an awkward moment of silence, he laughed. A tinkling laugh, probably the first genuine laugh you had ever heard from him. It sounded like bells from heaven.

“Sometime, I’ll sing for you.” He agreed, shaking your hand with a small smile.

“I look forward to it.” You grinned coyly, and he rubbed his lips together, subconsciously touching his cheeks to see if they were as warm as they felt. “I suppose there’s a lot I still don’t know about you, isn’t there?”

“I think you know more than most.” He chuckled. 

“Well, I want to know more.” You said, resting your chin on your hand. “I think you can make it big as a singer here. You’ve got the charm, the personality, and I’m sure you’ve got the skills.”  Heat rushed to his cheeks, and he rubbed his hands across them a second time self consciously.

“Thank you. That means a lot to me.” It felt like an eternity since you had sat down, and both of you were anxiously waiting for a waiter to come and break the awkward silence. When no such person came, Xiaojun clicked his tongue and turned his head towards the kitchen in the back of the restaurant.

“Xiao Zhan!” He practically screamed, and a crashing sound came from behind the scenes, making you giggle. Xiaojun cleared his throat, turning around with a flush on his cheeks, slightly embarrassed from his show. From the back came a quite tall man with sleep in his eyes, yawning and ruffling Xiaojun’s hair upon his arrival.

“What?” He asked, and Xiaojun smacked him on the arm.

“God, you do know you have a job, right?”

“And you don’t, so mind your own department.” The boy tutted, pulling a notepad out from the apron around his waist. Xiaojun seemed quite put out by his comment, and you laughed at the fluster on his face. “Whaddya want?”

“Sichuan hotpot, and daojiao meatballs.” Xiaojun said, and Xiao Zhan jotted down the order on the pad, tucking it back into his pocket thoughtlessly.

“For the girlfriend?” He asked before yelping, and you swore you saw Xiaojun swing his foot at him under the table, which made you snort.

“We’re sharing.” He said through gritted teeth, and Xiao Zhan gave him a dirty look before disappearing into the back. “Sorry about him.” He said apologetically, and you shook your head, biting back a laugh.

“It’s alright.” You fussed. “He seems like a nice guy.”

“You wouldn’t say that if you spent an hour with him.” Xiaojun joked, and you giggled lightly along with him. The tension had eased with the promise of food, and you found it a lot easier to get along with him when your homework wasn’t in front of you. He was sweet when you tutored him, but he became a different person when he was off campus, and you liked how much more free he seemed, released from the burden of social pressures and being the new kid. It made you wonder how much you didn’t know about him when he wasn’t trying to learn how to do math.

It also made you wonder how you didn’t notice how pretty he was until now.

“The service here is hella slow.” A voice yawned from a few tables away, and you startled, not sure how you didn’t realize the restaurant was occupied by customers other than yourselves, but when you saw the familiar face lounging at a table in the back, you felt your blood boil.

“Are you fucking kidding me, Yangyang?!” You yelled, standing up, your chair crashing to the ground from your abrupt movement. Xiaojun stood up with you, hands out as he attempted to sooth you, but he was rendered wordless, unsure of how to do so. “God, can’t I go anywhere without you following me?!”

“Jeez, not my fault you chose my favorite hotpot spot to eat at.” He shrugged, and Xiaojun noticed he was with two of his friends that you recognized from class. Jun something and Chen, but he didn’t have time to remember properly. You, on the other hand, had eyes clouded with red that could barely register the two sitting beside him, eyes trained and focused on the blond who seemed intent on ruining your life.

“God, you’re so annoying.” You grumbled, before sitting back down, frustration clear on your face, and what you thought would be a peaceful lunch was ruined. Xiaojun leaned in a little closer as he put his hand on your shoulder to soothe you.

“Don’t let him affect you.” He whispered furtively, blocking your conversation from the nosy boy a few tables over. “He wants to see you get mad. Just take some deep breaths and pretend he doesn’t exist.” A part of you wanted to tell him that you didn’t need to be coached and talked to like a toddler —you had been putting up with this for years and you knew how to handle it— but the other part of you knew he was right. So you listened, taking a deep breath or two before putting a relaxed smile on your face.

“I’m fine.” You said, and Xiaojun grinned along with you, leaning back into his seat and continuing your conversation as if nothing had happened.

You found that Yangyang, although he threw dirty looks at your table for the whole meal, didn’t bother you. Not once did he throw a deprecating comment your way or beg for help with school. He didn’t make fun of you from afar for being all over Xiaojun, he even hit Chenle’s shoulder when he tried to make fun of you for not having the money to pay for the meal, and that your boyfriend had to pay for you.

Maybe Xiaojun was right. Maybe all Yangyang wanted was to make you mad, and if you deprived him of that reaction, he would stop. Maybe it was exactly like your mother told you when she warned you not to let bullies know they upset you. None of it really mattered though. The only thing you could think of was how satisfying it was to frustrate him the way he frustrated you.

⋰˚☆

Wednesday night rolled around, and Yangyang was preparing for his habitual horror movie night, which seemed to be occurring much more than usual as of late. A bowl of popcorn the size of his head in his lap, and a full 7 liter of Coca Cola on the coffee table, he was fully prepared to cuddle into his couch and lose himself in the gory goodness of a proper horror film– at least until he heard a knock on his door. 

You didn’t want to knock on Yangyang’s door. In fact, despite living just across from him, you were hoping you could live the rest of your life without laying a finger on his snobby, two story house that he practically owned from how often he was home alone. But here you were, standing on his doorstep with a coat up to your chin, breath cold and wispy in the chilly night air, a plastic bag in your hand as you waited for the little brat to open the door so you could go home and enjoy a cup of hot cocoa and a drama before bed.

The door creaked open slowly, his delicate hand gripping the handle, standing at the top of the stairs while you stood at the bottom. Decked out head to toe in fluffy blue cloud pajamas, it made you wonder how many matching sets of fuzzy pajamas he had stored in his closet. You held out the bag silently, and he stared at it like it was coated in acid, and might melt his hand off if he touched the surface of it.

“What’s that?” He said skeptically, taking the bag from your hand and peeking at its contents dubiously. You shoved your hands into your pockets immediately upon relinquishing the bag.

“Stir fry.” He looked at you with wide eyes, opening the tupperware inside the plastic and taking in the fresh aroma of the still-warm food. “My brother made it. He thought you might be hungry.”

“And you willingly delivered it?”

“Hell no. He made me.”

“And you didn’t spit in it?” You cocked your head, giving him a mysterious smile, and if he didn’t think you spit in it before, he definitely did now.

“Why don’t you find out?” He shut the lid of tupperware with a doubtful look on his face, slipping it back inside the bag and holding it behind his back like you might try and take it from him. He looked you up and down with narrowed eyes, halfway expecting you to start laughing and pull a cake out of your enormous jacket and smash it into his face: maybe with a camera filming. But you did no such thing, just silently waiting for a reaction at the bottom of the staircase with your hands in your pockets.

“Thanks.” He said after a moment of thought, and you shrugged.

“I didn’t make it.” As you prepared to take your exit, he took a few steps down the stairs, stopping you in your tracks. “What?” Even after coming after you, he didn’t say anything for a minute, mouth just opening and closing like a fish.

“Come inside.”

“What?” You scoffed. “No thanks, I’d rather go home.” His moment of indecision seemed to melt away, the good old Yangyang coming out to play as he pouted, leaning against the door with a shit eating grin on his face.

“Come on, we can study. Bring your notes and I’ll share my popcorn.” With that, he retreated inside and slammed the door. You sighed, shoving your hands into your pockets again and walking home. You would never understand him.

A few minutes passed after your return to home when the blond peeked his head out the window, watching you sit down on your couch and pull out your laptop.

“Y/n!” He screeched, and you rolled your eyes, standing up to shut the window with a sarcastic smile. He groaned in annoyance, making his way to the front door and approaching your window. He didn’t bother to rap on the window, taking advantage of his height to slide the window open from the outside and clamber inside, his upper half peeking into your living room by the time you reached him.

“Go away.” You hissed. “My brother just came back from college. He’s sleeping.”

“Fuck your brother.”

“That’s an odd command. You might want to get some of your kinks checked out.” He glared at you, his body from the torso up still through the window.

“Come on, I seriously will fail Chemistry.”

“Again, not my problem.”

“Please? I’ll pay you.” He begged, hands together and threatening to slip out once both hands left the windowsill.

“Y/n?” Your brother called sleepily from the staircase, rubbing his eyes tiredly, and you looked up in surprise, hands instinctively reaching to push Yangyang away from the scene, which conveniently meant pushing him out the window.

“Yes?” You asked innocently, a loud ‘oof!’ sound coming from behind you as Yangyang hit the ground roughly, and you slammed the window shut. Your brother rubbed his eyes again, staring at you questioningly and trying to peek over your shoulder to see what was happening outside.

“Everything okay?” He asked suspiciously, and you nodded with a very wide and very fake grin stretched across your face.

“Just peachy, Kun. Go to sleep.” You said, releasing your grip on the windowsill and hurrying over to him, ushering him back up the staircase as he tried to protest. Once he was safely shut in his room, although not willingly, you rushed downstairs and peeked out the window to see a heap of limbs collapsed on the floor. You bit back a snicker, not very well, and called out to the fallen boy. “You okay?”

“You bitch.” He spat from the floor, attempting to collect himself and stand up, grimacing at the feeling of his sore limbs. “I can’t believe you pushed me.”

“Relax, it was like five feet.” You snickered, and he glared up at you indignantly.

“I don’t even want the notes anymore.” He brushed himself off and got to his feet, striding back to his house —more like stomping petulantly. You rolled your eyes, knowing he was going to be in a horrible mood the next day if you didn’t chase after him. He truly knew how to get what he wanted.

“Wait,” You said, snatching your notebook off the table and climbing out the window after him, deftly landing on your feet. You figured it was faster than going out the front door, and the latter would surely arouse your brother a second time, which would also arouse many questions about why you’re trying to leave the house in pajamas and a coat at nearly midnight. “I’ll give you the stupid notes.” He turned slowly at your words, his fast pace coming to a stop as he stared at you, watching as you walked over with your hands in your pockets.

“This isn’t a prank, is it? I might not look it, but I’m actually quite sensitive.”

“You do look it, and no, it’s not a prank.” You rolled your eyes, climbing the steps to his front door and gesturing to the door. “Are you gonna let me in?”

“I guess I could.” He muttered, letting you through and into his living room.

It had been quite a long time since you were in Yangyang’s house. The last time you could remember was in 6th grade, when his mother invited your family over for their annual dinner party around Christmastime. Yangyang dumped pickled herring into your purse and you shoved his face into the platter of rosolli. Safe to say you were never invited over after that.

His house was still as nice as you remembered. Not enormous, but quite spacious, it was decorated with vases of flowers and pieces of artwork that looked like they cost more than your tuition. The couch was covered with fuzzy blankets and a bowl of popcorn, the coffee table holding a few remotes and a 7 liter of Coke that you assumed was for the boy’s movie night. He flopped down onto the cushions, the tupperware in his hands and sufficiently reheated, and when you stood frozen he motioned for you to follow him. You slowly sat on the couch, somewhat afraid that you might break something and his parents would never let you back inside. Although that would give you a nice excuse to avoid tutoring their son.

“It doesn’t matter if you break anything.” Yangyang derided, reading your mind. “We can get another one if we really need to. Mother won’t mind.”

Oh the life of the rich.

“Right.” You said awkwardly, attempting to get comfortable, pulling a blanket over your lap. “I brought my notes. I thought we could start with lesson four on-”

“Movie first.” Yangyang dismissed, picking up the remote and clicking a few buttons. You scoffed, leaning back into the couch silently and not trying to protest, which was a first. You tried to keep Xiaojun’s tactics in mind, to just take a breath and ignore him. You weren’t giving him what he wanted, no, you were just smarter than to fight with him.

The movie started up, a terrifying film called Midnight about a deaf girl who discovers a serial killer’s identity. This one was certainly going to give you nightmares: you could still see the smile on the killer’s face every time you closed your eyes. Luckily the actor was ridiculously hot, so that did well to dampen your fears, at least slightly.

You let out a gasp when the serial killer swung his ax mere centimeters from the girl’s head, and you swore you almost jumped up off the couch from the suspense. Yangyang watched you from a few feet over, amused at how seriously you were taking the movie and wondering how he didn’t know you were such a horror wimp.

“That’s so scary.” You whispered as the girl ran to hide in the bathroom, and he only decimated the door with his ax, leaving her no place to hide. “Imagine, being chased by someone with an ax. That’s terrifying.”

“It’s not real, y/n.”

“It could be, though.” You said, obviously frightened, and he chuckled under his breath. Something about the way you stared at the screen, enraptured with wide eyes, was somewhat… cute. It took him a moment to realize what he just thought, and he stuck his tongue out at his own gross actions. How could he think that? How could his brain actually form those thoughts, about you, no less? He wasn’t paying attention when the killer came on screen, joyfully chasing after the girl on the street, only seeing the way your eyes widened. When he brought out his ax again, you screamed, and before he knew what he was doing, he clapped a hand over your mouth. Both of you stared at each other in shock of his action, a foot or so apart. He cleared his throat, pulling his hand away and covering his own mouth sheepishly.

“It’s late. Try not to scream.” He muttered, and you nodded silently. You could still feel the print of where his hand was on your mouth, warm and burning.

The movie finished in silence. You were too petrified to speak —and too polite to scream— and Yangyang felt a bit too awkward to make conversation.

“It’s over.” He sighed, feeling as though the movie might never end, clicking the power button on the remote and powering down the TV. As the screen went blank, he suddenly noticed that you had been quiet for quite a time. “What’d you think-” He cut himself off, immediately quieting down when he noticed the way your mouth opened in deep breaths, eyes closed and leaning against the cushions with your head back. Soft snores escaped your mouth, and for a moment, Yangyang considered taking a photo, but he pushed away the mischievous part of him and left you be. Pulling a blanket over you and propping your head up on a pillow, he clicked off the light and retreated upstairs to get some sleep. He would need it.

The morning was going to be hectic.

⋰˚☆

You woke up in your bed, kicking the blankets off of you as you wiped the drool dripping from the right corner of your mouth. You had just had the worst nightmare. Yangyang, dressed in cloud pajamas and a balaclava, had chased you down the street with a scythe yelling out chemistry formulas. You shook off the odd feeling your dream had washed over you, looking around your bedroom. Your walls were a pale blue, a lamp almost the height of the ceiling towering over your figure, and vases of flowers were on the table in front of you. You didn’t have a coffee table by your bed. But you weren’t in your bed, you realized, sitting up ramrod straight on the couch in alarm. No way you had just spent the night at Liu Yangyang’s house.

“Oh, you’re awake.” Yangyang said, wandering into the living room with only a pair of plaid pajama pants and one sock on, a bowl of cereal in his right hand and a toothbrush in his left, making you wonder if he was attempting to eat and brush his teeth at the same time. “You looked dead when I woke up, but you were snoring so at least I knew you could breathe.” He said, and you tossed the remote at him, bruising his bare chest as he yelped and covered it protectively, dropping his toothbrush.

“Why didn’t you wake me up, stupid?!” You yelled, fretting and attempting to check the time on your phone, which you now realized you left at home. “Class is probably going to start in five minutes and I Kun doesn’t know where I am-”

“Y/n.” Yangyang interrupted with a skeptical look, picking up his toothbrush from the floor and looking at it sadly before continuing. “It’s 7:30 in the morning, and you are aware you live one house over, are you not?” Your cheeks flushed in embarrassment, and he smirked at the fluster in your expression.

“I-I know.” You said indignantly, trying to regain some of your pride. “Kun’s probably worried about me.”

“Well why don’t you scurry a few meters down the street and tell him not to get his knickers in a twist?” Yangyang rolled his eyes, dropping his now-empty bowl of cereal into the sink when a knock came from the door. He approached it, peering out the peephole and sighing. “Speak of the devil.” He unlocked the door, swinging it open to reveal a rather frantic boy in his early twenties with dark blue hair and a panicked expression.

“Where’s y/n?”

“Good morning to you too, Mr. Qian.” Yangyang said tiredly.

“Do you know where y/n is? Go ask your mom.”

“Your sister is right here, if that’s what you’re looking for.” Yangyang said, stepping aside to reveal you waiting in the back with a sheepish smile, waving slightly before tucking your hands behind your back.

“Y/n?” Kun asked, shock evident in his face as he took in the sight of you. “What the hell are you wearing?” You looked down, not quite sure why he was asking until you saw your thin tank top and lacy shorts, the pajamas you had worn under your coat before you came over, the coat you had worn all night. You glared at Yangyang, who just shrugged with a coy smile.

“You bastard. Where’s my coat?”

“In the closet, dork.” He sneered, and you pushed past him to the front closet, snatching your jacket and covering your body up insecurely.

“Y/n.” Kun said with a warning tone, motioning for you to follow him, and you obeyed, not wanting to upset him any further. He led you out the door and you meekly trailed after him down the steps, lips pressed together tightly. Yangyang leaned on the door frame, a smug smile on his face as he watched you go, one hand cupped around his mouth while he yelled out.

“You’re not staying for breakfast?” He called. You turned around to flip him off, to which he just blew a kiss, which you ignored. God, he knew how to drive you insane.

“Y/n, what the hell were you doing spending that night at Yangyang’s house?” Kun asked, shutting the door behind you and watching as you went to the kitchen immediately, pulling out a piece of bread to eat it untoasted. You were starving.

“I fell asleep while we were,” You hesitated to tell the truth. “Studying.”

“Is that what happened?” Kun asked skeptically, arms crossed over his chest. “And he didn’t fall out of the window last night?” Fuck. Yeah, he knew. “Y/n, I want you to be honest with me.” He leaned in, putting a hand on your shoulder and sighing. “Are you dating Yangyang?” You almost spat out the bread you were eating.

“What?! Of course not!”

“Well, what else am I supposed to think? He crawls through your window at midnight, and now you’re spending the night at his house? I mean, I thought you didn’t like each other but I guess anything can change-”

“This isn’t a romance novel, Kun.” You bit back. “I don’t like Yangyang, and I never will. We’re not dating, I just fell asleep after we watched a movie.”

“Oh.” Kun said, crossing his arms with a relieved expression. “Well, if that’s all, then go get dressed and I’ll drive you. We can’t have you going to school in a tank top and a thong.”

“They’re mini shorts, Kun.” You spat, wrapping the coat further around you and running up the stairs, hoping you had enough time to pick out a proper outfit before school started. As you disappeared up to the second floor, Kun stood by the base of the stairs, thinking hard before cupping his hands around his mouth.

“If you are having sex with him, use protection, okay?”

“Kun!”

Not thirty minutes passed before a knock came on your front door. Still in the middle of applying your mascara, you rushed downstairs to answer if before Kun could yell at you, and lo and behold, guess who was at the door?

“You take a long damn time to get ready.” Yangyang deadpanned, already dressed in a burgundy hoodie and baggy gray sweats, bangs fluffy and shaggy in his eyes.

“Nobody asked you to time me.” You said sarcastically, not inviting him in but not denying him when he stepped through the door frame, hands in his pockets and waiting on the doormat so as not to sully your hardwood floors with his shoes.

“I’ve been waiting on your doorstep for almost twenty minutes. Hurry up.”

“Why don’t you just go on without me.” You retorted, and he rolled his eyes, huffing in annoyance as he grabbed hold of your arm and pulled you through the door, barely giving you time to snatch your backpack and phone off the shelf by the exit. “Slow down, will you?!” After a moment of walking, he released your arm and walked by your side in silence.

It was uncharacteristic of Yangyang to ever be quiet, much less in your presence. He always had a witty remark, always had a one-liner or a gesture that would annoy you so he could keep your conversation going back and forth like pinball. But here he was, hands in his pockets, walking beside you like you hadn’t spent the past 9 or so years bickering with him nonstop. He seemed peaceful.

“You know, I’ve been thinking a bit about that boy in class,” He started, taking his hands out of his pockets to brush hair out of his eyes, breathing out wispy strands of white fog escaping his mouth as he looked up at the gray sky. “Xiaojun, is his name?”

“Yeah.” You answered suspiciously. “What about him?”

“I think his cousin’s hotpot is pretty good.” He said. Dead silence, at least until you laughed, the sound echoing through the empty street. “What?”

“That’s all you wanted to say?” You chuckled, your laugh visible in the air from the heat of your breath. “You sound so somber today.”

“I’m just thoughtful.” He pouted, shoving his hands back into his pockets. “Is it bad to be thoughtful?”

“I reckon it’s better than not.” You said, laughs beginning to fade as you walked, school in sight, both of your hands in your pockets. Silence washed over the two of you, and you suddenly found that Yangyang was a bit more bearable than you thought, albeit his silence was beginning to concern you. Maybe he wasn’t so bad after all.

“Y/n?”

“Yeah?”

“Can I borrow your chemistry notes for fourth period?” There he was. You thought you might’ve broken him.

“There you are!” Xiaojun yelled, running over to the gate as you and Yangyang finally reached the school. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere.”

“What’s up?” You asked, taking a few steps ahead of the boy beside you. Xiaojun approached the two of you, slowing his pace and looking Yangyang up and down suspiciously, eyes narrowed.

“Not much,” He continued after a moment. “Mr. Choi is assigning a pop quiz in third period for our last unit. Don’t ask how I know.”

“You think you’re ready?”

“I could use a quick review.”

“Well,” You said, swinging your backpack around to the front and digging through it for your notebook. You pulled it out successfully, holding it up with a smile. “I think we have time to go over the text.” Yangyang watched the two of you chatter, watched as you slowly migrated closer to Xiaojun and split off from the blond haired boy, walking across campus like he had never been there in the first place.

And boom, just like that, your moment of closeness was over before it started.

⋰˚☆

Xiaojun had finally decided to return to your friend group, physically recovered and no longer emotionally traumatized. Under the willow tree, everything felt comfortable. It was your group’s little safe haven, a shady wonderland of tolerable people, good food, and good laughs: you found it was your favorite time of the school day, when you could go out and sit with your friends for lunch.

“Ah, the fresh meat is back!” Ten exclaimed, welcoming Xiaojun with a pat on the back that felt more like a slap, and made him lurch forward. “Got over the dong chim?”

“I don’t know what that is.” Xiaojun said, his hand instinctively moving to cover his backside, and you leaned in to whisper the answer. “Oh. Yes, I suppose so.” “You’re lucky I’m feeling gracious today.” Hendery said peacefully from his usual position, head on Karina’s lap and legs spread out across the grass serenely. You and Xiaojun sat down at the edge of the shade, dropping your things onto the dewy grass and kicking your shoes off. Xiaojun seemed to gravitate in your direction, and as far as possible away from Hendery’s fingers, which were laying on the grass.

“Thanks for that.” Xiaojun said sarcastically, but the slight smile on his face contrasted his facetious tone. At least he seemed back to enjoying himself. Karina leaned over to you, taking a roll of kimbap from her lunch and shoving it between your lips.

“Eat. You look like hell.”

“Thanks.” You scoffed between bites, mouth full and chomping on the bite of food, which was admittedly quite delicious. “Didn’t know I looked that bad.”

“You look fine.” Sicheng said, smacking Karina lightly on the back of the head and wincing when Hendery responded by tapping his shoe not-so-lightly against the space between his legs in warning. “Just like you’re lacking sleep, that’s all.”

“I stayed up watching Midnight last night.”

“You’re kidding.” Ten scoffed, taking another bite of his sandwich. “With who?”

“Who says I didn’t watch it alone?” You challenged, and almost everyone in the group gave you a knowing look, with the exception of Xiaojun who just looked confused by the entire conversation.

“C’mon y/n, we all know you’re a coward when it comes to horror. Watching that alone would be suicide for you.” Karina said matter of factly, popping her lips with satisfaction before chomping on a bite of kimbap. You rolled your eyes, still not answering and turning your focus onto your bag of lunch, still clutched in your hand.

“What are we eating?” A raspy voice said, one that sounded a bit too familiar for comfort. You tilted your head up to meet the eyes of Yangyang, who was holding a lunchbox in one hand, the other shoved deep in the pocket of his sweats.

“God, not you.” Ten sighed, eyes boring into Yangyang’s head, but he paid no mind, just looking at you expectantly and waiting for you to answer his question.

“Congee and chicken.” You said exasperatedly, tearing apart a piece of steamed bun to eat with your porridge and bracing yourself for the inevitable request or teasing remark he would have for you. But, to your surprise, he had none, simply making his way next to you and laying down on his stomach, letting out a satisfactory groan once he was comfortable. The rest of the group whispered to each other upon his entrance, but he only looked up at you to gauge your reaction.

You were staring at him like the gum on the bottom of your shoe began to talk.

“You look like shit.” He commented, noticing the dark circles under your eyes and turning to his lunch box, searching through what he had packed in the morning.

“Thanks. That’s the second time someone’s told me that today.” You said, glaring in Karina’s direction, and she only shrugged with a small smile. “I didn’t sleep well.”

“What, did the movie freak you out?” He snickered, but let out a loud ‘oof!’ sound when you smacked him on the back. “Coward.”

“Dude, shut the fuck up.” You hissed at him. The rest of the friend group looked between the two of you in shock, Hendery’s mouth gaped open like a fish and Karina looking at you like you just ran over her dog.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Ten laughed in disbelief, shaking his head like he didn’t understand what had just been said. “You guys watched Midnight, together?” Yangyang just scoffed, jabbing his thumb up at you as you stammered.

“As if y/n has the balls to watch it alone.” You hit him again.

“I don’t have balls, you overgrown zygote, and maybe if you used your brain once in a while you’d realize that not everyone likes watching people get massacred.”

“Lemme get some of that.” Yangyang ignored your comment, pointing to the bun in your hand, doused in congee and sesame oil.

“Fuck no. Get your own.”

“I only packed white bread, y/n. White bread. I have nothing in my fridge.”

“Sounds like that’s your problem.” You denied him, but when he gave you the stupid face he always did: eyes large and lower lip jutting out petulantly, you rolled your eyes and shoved a piece of bun in his mouth. He chewed with a smile, flashing a thumbs up before turning back to his lunch.

Ten looked horrified, pulling the rest of the group together while you weren’t paying attention, his voice lowering to a whisper.

“Is Liu Yangyang really eating lunch with us?” Karina asked in disgust, and the rest gulped, watching you two eat and bicker with bated breath. 

“I can’t believe he had the balls to come over here.” Sicheng spat. Xiaojun was quite confused. All he had seen Yangyang do so far was fuck with you once in a while during class or beg you for notes, nothing that bad, but he had never seen Sicheng spit before so he figured it must be a pretty serious situation.

“This is a code red.” Ten said gravely, using his lanky arms to pull the group into a huddle. “We can’t let Yangyang sit with us. Our reputation will be ruined!”

“I’m pretty sure our reputation is worse than his.” Hendery mused, but went silent when Karina pinched his thigh. “Right. Code red.”

“Yeah. Code red.” Xiaojun echoed, still not quite sure what was happening.

“I’ll talk to y/n about it another time.” Karina said, and the boys nodded, backing away before you could catch onto their plotting, but luckily you were too immersed in your bickering to take notice.

⋰˚☆

“You seem oddly cheery today.” Karina said suspiciously. A week flew by like nothing and she barely saw you with your nose out of your textbook, and eventually she had decided to drop by your house in the morning to see what was going on with you, only to find that you were in a better mood than she had seen you in years.

You tucked one hand into the pocket of your hoodie with a soft smile, staring up at the cloudy, gray sky and letting the breeze graze your face. You were always fond of cloudy days. They always seemed so serene, sunshine was overrated.

“I suppose I have been happy lately.” You pondered, taking a sip of your coffee, which you had decided to take a-la-carte that day. “Not sure why.”

“I could take a guess.” Karina said under her breath, but you didn’t catch her comment, just sipping on your hot drink with foggy eyes. “How’s Yangyang?”

“How the hell would I know?” You scoffed incredulously.

“You’ve been seeing him a lot lately.”

As much as you didn’t want to admit it, there was truth to her words. Not only was Yangyang beginning to lower his average bitchiness levels when you were around, he no longer had any teasing comments of immature pranks to throw at you. He had even begun joining your lunch group on a semi-weekly basis, and the group had adopted him more easily than you thought. Hendery was already preparing to toss his backpack into the river that runs through the courtyard, so you assumed they had taken a liking to him. Yangyang had changed, that was undeniable. You just weren’t sure exactly what changed him, and why.

“I still don’t like him, Rin.” You protested, and she gave you a knowing look.

“It’s okay to say you’re friends now. I don’t think anybody will believe you if you say you still hate him the way you used to.”

“Yangyang might be part of the group now, but I’ve hated him for years. That’s not going to go away in an instant.” You said, and she shrugged, figuring it was easier to agree now and argue later. Speak of the devil, a flurry of skinny limbs and denim came running down the concrete, coming to a screeching stop once it reached you.

“Ladies,” Yangyang said playfully, bowing and tipping the navy trucker hat on his head gracefully, a bag of fruit snacks in his hand. “What are we talking about?”

“None of your business.” You said, planting your palm on his face and pushing him back a significant amount. “Go away.”

“Aw, c'mon. You’re not still mad because I beat you at call of duty, are you? It’s not my fault you’re shit at games.”

“What’d you say?” You exclaimed, turning around to flick him in the forehead. “I’m not shit at games, you’re just a cheater. Literally everyone knows you cheat.”

“Your mom.” He tossed a fruit snack your way, which you caught with a scowl.

“What?” Yangyang laughed at your confusion as you reached for his face, attempting to flick his forehead a second time. Karina sighed, watching the two of you bicker like usual, although even she could tell there was something different about it now. Something in the way he laughed, no longer menacing but only amused, something in the way you chased after him with a smile instead of a scowl. 

Things were changing, and Karina knew you two would be the last to know.

Xiaojun looked exceptionally pretty that morning. I mean, Xiaojun always looked pretty, but something about the way the soft gray light hit his features, his hair shaggy in his face and his lips pursed in concentration made your heartbeat speed up irrationally. The library was practically empty, most of the students spending their free period messing around or being around their friends, but the two of you sat silently together to finish your homework, and what might be your last tutoring session in a while. It made you sad, the idea of not spending your usual hours with Xiaojun, and as far as you were concerned, you were going to drown yourself in his beauty for as long as possible before the two of you inevitably had to end your studying.

It took quite a while to realize, but you knew you were harboring feelings for the boy. And every day that passed, it became increasingly harder to pretend you didn’t, harder every day that you had to sit across from the beautiful boy for hours at a time and tutor him on things you could care less about. You gulped, hoping the saliva would satiate the fire inside your stomach, which it didn’t.

“I’m confused about this one,” Xiaojun started, the tip of his pencil, the one you lent him with pink hearts and a white sleeve, prodding between his lips. “‘Find the exact value of the expression sin (arccos ¼).” He read the question aloud, hands gripping the sheet of paper as he squinted to make out the words. “Wouldn’t it be the negative square root of 15 over 4?” You rested your head on your upturned palm, tongue poking in your right cheek as you watched him squint. Squinting wasn’t cute, it wasn’t cute at all, but for some reason the way he narrowed his eyes and peered at the paper in annoyance was so undeniably adorable. “Y/n, are you listening?”

“Huh?” You startled out of your reverie, lifting your head off of your hand and clearing your throat. “Uh, yeah. That’s the right answer.” Xiaojun pumped his fist in excitement, a smile on his pretty face, before he lifted his hand to you. Unable to suppress a matching smile, you high fived him, taking careful note of the way he intertwined your fingers and set your hands on the table instead of letting go. You had to tell him. “Um, Xiaojun?”

All the resolve you had melted away when he looked at you with questioning eyes, wide and wondering. You cleared your throat a second time, rubbing your lips together tensely and wondering how you could convey what you were thinking.

“I’ve wanted to tell you for a while, but,” You started, and you could see the cogs in his brain turning rapidly, his hand slowly pulling away from yours. Despite the slight heartbreak you felt when his hand left yours, you grit your resolve and gathered your courage for what you were about to say. “...I like you.” He bit his lower lip tightly. “I like you a lot, and I’m not sure when it started, but I had to tell you.” He didn’t say anything for what felt like an eternity, and you felt like the silence was killing you.

There weren’t many students in the library, but the few nearby were listening with just as much interest as you were, including a black haired girl one table over.

Finally, Xiaojun opened his mouth to give you a response, and you felt like your heart might burst from the suspense.

“I’m sorry y/n,” Your expectant expression came crashing down. “I just don’t feel about you that way. I’m really sorry.” You pushed back the feelings that wanted to erupt from your chest and spill out your mouth like a river, just gritting your teeth in a forced smile and nodding your head. “We can still be friends, right?”

“Of course we can.” You said nonchalantly, and luckily Xiaojun didn’t seem to see through your facade. “Really, don’t take anything I said seriously. I’m sure I just mistook friendship for something else.” Xiaojun had a tense expression, but he sighed and nodded anyway, a small smile on his pretty lips.

“I think I should get going.” He glanced at his phone. “Class is starting soon, and I promised Ms. Kwan I would get there early to review my trig packet.” He collected his supplies in one sweep and shoved them into his bag, eyes lingering on you when you didn’t follow. “You coming?” You shook your head, tugging your lip between your teeth.

“I think I’m gonna finish real quick. You go ahead, I’ll see you later.” He hesitated to leave, but when he saw the shining droplets threatening to fall in the corner of your eyes, he left, knowing the least he could do was spare you the embarrassment of seeing you cry. Once he was gone, the tears that were precariously perched in your eyes fell, streaming down your face like waterfalls as you sniffled. It was embarrassing, to be crying in the middle of the library over a boy who only thinks of you as a friend, especially when your best friend was sitting a table over, and she had definitely seen and heard everything.

Karina rushed over to you as soon as Xiaojun was out of sight, pulling you into a hug and wiping the stray tears from your cheeks, letting you sob into her sweater, mouth parted in silent cries.

“I’m sorry, y/n.” She whispered, using her back to shield you from the curious students sitting a few tables away, reaching her hand back to flip them off, which quickly convinced them to stop staring. “I’m sorry, he doesn’t know what he’s missing.”

“I-it’s not his fault.” You sniffled, but you knew it was Karina’s duty as your best friend to be pissed at anyone who breaks your heart, or at least that’s what she thought. “I guess I just misread things. I really thought he liked me.”

“We all did.” Karina said sympathetically, patting your back gently and soothing you until your sobs began to quiet down. “It’s okay, love. It’s okay.”

“Y/n!” A voice yelled from the entrance, before being scolded by the librarian for being too loud. Karina cursed, using her sleeve to try and conceal your puffy face from the incoming boy, hands on his hips and a bag of fruit snacks in his hand. “Hey, did you know that Mr. Kang is dating one of the student teachers-” he cut himself short, freezing in his tracks when he spotted your puffy, red eyes, and the tear stains running through your makeup, mascara streaks going down your cheek. “Are you okay?” He asked urgently, pulling out a chair next to you, all intent of gossiping out of his mind the moment he saw your distressed face. He reached out a hand, which Karina slapped away quickly, contempt evident in her expression. “What happened?” He asked, and Karina looked at you for permission, which you granted with a nod.

“Her crush just rejected her.” Karina said quietly, giving you a gentle rub on the back when you choked up at her words, more tears spilling from your eyes.

Something in Yangyang’s eyes shifted, and he opened his mouth and closed it, not quite sure of what to say to make you feel better. Before his mind could think of what to do, his body made the decision for him, reaching out a hand to pat the top of your head. You looked at him with confused eyes, wiping your nose, but despite your questioning gaze, he just stroked your hair, before offering you the packet of gummies in his hand. You took the bag from him, staring at it blankly before a little chuckle escaped your mouth. You looked up at him gratefully, and he met you with a soft smile.

“Thanks.” You said softly, wiping the tears from your eyes as he watched awkwardly. After you had sufficiently collected yourself, he held out his hand for you to take, which after a moment of reluctance, you did.

“Class starts soon. We should go.” He said, testing the waters, and you nodded, standing up using his hand to assist you, and brushing the tears from your shirt. Karina stood with you, watching suspiciously as Yangyang helped you walk to class, hand still clasped with yours. You looked back to see if Karina would follow, and she wiped the frown from her face, replacing it with a grin.

“My class is on the other side of campus. I’ll see you at lunch!” She said cheerily, and you gave her a thumbs up and a small smile. When your head turned back around, she sighed and picked up her bag, readying to leave for class.

“Something about him is different now.” She murmured, pulling her backpack over her shoulder and exiting the library with a thoughtful frown.

⋰˚☆

Xiaojun didn’t come to sit with the group at lunch. Neither did Karina and Hendery, the latter of which had to drive his girlfriend to her dentist appointment while her parents were out of town, and once Ten and Sicheng realized they would have to eat lunch alone with you and Yangyang, they promptly split up to their respective other friend groups, leaving the two of you alone under the willow tree.

“Some friends.” You muttered under your breath, taking notice of Ten and Sicheng chatting up their friends Jaehyun and Jungwoo across the courtyard, and Yangyang chuckled at your bitter tone.

“What, you don’t wanna be left alone with me?” He asked, feigning offense, already flopped on his stomach and comfortably with his shoes off.

“Hm, not really.” You teased, lowering yourself onto your stomach with him before opening your lunchbox. In all honesty, you could care less about having to eat alone with the blond boy. You were just relieved that Xiaojun had decided to dine elsewhere, not sure if you could handle an entire hour of pretending that everything was okay. Your chest was aching like you hadn’t felt in an eternity, and it was a harsh reminder that high school romances aren’t always like the ones in the novels.

“You okay?” Yangyang asked, nudging you in the side, and you faked a smile.

“Just fine.” You lied through your teeth, peeking into your lunchbox to see what you had packed for today. You didn’t have time to make lunch that morning, leaving the task up to your brother, whom you weren’t sure if you trusted the task to.

And for good reason. Inside was a single tangerine and a bowl of rice. You were gonna kick his ass when you got home.

Yangyang noticed the way you shut your lunch with a sigh, taking a peek into your bag and furrowing his eyebrows when he saw your weak excuse of a lunch, but switching to a bright expression when he had an idea.

“You have a tangerine?” He asked with lit up eyes.

“...Yes?” You said skeptically, and he held out his hand for it, which you reluctantly handed over. He dug his fingers through the outer layer of vermillion, pulling off the peel bit by bit while he hummed.

“Mind if I take your tangerine? I’ll share.” He offered, still peeling, and you looked over to see what he had packed, expecting nothing better than your own lunch based on his reputation. But to your surprise, inside his bag was a full spread of rice, tangsuyuk, cauliflower stir fry, and even a container with two freshly made mooncakes and a steamed bun. It was stunning, and definitely past his cooking capabilities.

“Did you make that?” You asked in disbelief, and he scoffed.

“Me? C’mon.” He laughed and you pressed your lips together so as not to smile. “My mom came back from her business trip in Taiwan and made me lunch. She told me to share it with my friends. She’s getting used to cooking Korean food. No more schnitzel, I guess.” He joked, and you snorted. You noticed a small purple orchid tucked in the corner of the lunchbox and you cocked your head with curiosity.

“Orchid?”

“My mom’s favorite flower.” Yangyang shrugged, taking it into his hands. “She puts one in here when she gets a chance. To remind me of her, or something.”

“I love orchids. They’re my favorite flower.” You commented, watching fondly as he stared at the orchid as though it were his own mother in his hands.

“You can have it.” He said, passing it over to you tenderly, and you nodded in appreciation, tucking the fresh flower behind your ear delicately while he tried not to look at your face. With a pop, he opened the plastic container and ripped apart the bun, handing half of it over to you.

“Thanks.” You said appreciatively, taking the bread from his hands and swiping it through the sauce of the stir fry, tucking the bun into your mouth until your cheeks looked like that of a squirrel’s while you chomped. Yangyang bit back a giggle at the sight, finding it oddly adorable. “What’re you laughing at?”

“No, nothing.” He dismissed quickly, picking up a piece of tangsuyuk and tucking it into your mouth before you had even finished chewing your previous bite.

“I can feed myself, thank you very much.” You said defensively, wiping off a bit of sauce that was sticky on your lips, and he pouted, a coy grin evident under the sulking.

“Well, that’s no fun.”

Silence washed over the two of you as you chewed, the occasional mundane topic passed from mouth to mouth before fading to background noise, both of you seeming to be unable to hold a conversation. Something was heavy in the air, and the obvious elephant in the room was blocking up Yangyang’s throat, and he wanted nothing more than to just ask the obvious question, but he found himself unable to, not wanting to upset you. This upset him even further, because since when was he unwilling to upset you? For a moment, he tried to summon up the courage of a past him, clearing his throat to gather your attention.

“Y/n,” He started hesitantly. “Can I ask you a question?”

“If it’s about what I think it is, no.” You said immediately. He huffed, reachin for his last ditch effort, pulling out the last container from his lunch and offering you one of the two mooncakes. You watched him warily as he extended the treat towards you, and you shook your head, but he held out his hand, unwavering. As much as you wanted to resist, the mooncake looked delicious: a caramel brown color, the top intricately stamped and soft in his hands, surely stuffed with some kind of filling like lotus seed or salted egg yolk. The last time you had one of Ms. Liu’s mooncakes was fifth grade, when she brought a case over as an apology on Yangyang’s behalf after he poured neon green hair dye in Kun’s shampoo. Yes, Yangyang’s contempt sometimes even extended to your family. But his mother’s soft mooncakes were so delicious, they almost made you forget the horrid color of your brother’s hair.

You gave in, taking it out of his hand with a roll of your eyes, and he smirked at his triumph, resting his chin on his upturned palm, elbow buried in the dewy grass.

“What do you wanna know?”

“Karina said your crush rejected you…” He trailed off when he saw the way your jaw tensed. “Was that Xiaojun?” You didn’t answer, taking a bite from the mooncake and chewing silently for a moment, which he took as a yes. His suspicions were confirmed when you nodded, sighing quietly.

“It was nothing, really. I just… I misunderstood.” You mumbled, and strangely enough, something in the boy felt a bit of distaste for the blue haired guy who broke your heart, Yangyang reaching over instinctively to pat your head again.

“Hey, he’s missing out. Imagine how many free tutoring sessions he could’ve got.” Yangyang snickered, and you reached out to smack him, which made him wince. “Hey, that’s actually a good idea. Y/n, will you be my girlfriend?”

“Very funny.” You bit back, but you had to admit, his joke lifted your mood. Something about Yangyang, his bright smile that shone like a thousand suns, his eyes that shone when he got excited —or maybe the way he never took anything seriously— was somewhat refreshing. “Only if your mom makes me mooncakes.”

“Sounds like a deal.” Yangyang said with finality, extending his hand for a shake, which you blew off with a scoff, slapping his hand away while he pouted.

“Shameless.” Ten shook his head, watching from the picnic tables as you and Yangyang bickered, the proximity between the two of you slowly shrinking with every snarky remark and giggling session.

“I don’t think it’s like that.” Sicheng defended you, and Ten simply continued to wag his head, turquoise bangs flowing like waves in a teal sea. “You saw Karina’s text, didn’t you? She just got rejected, by Xiaojun of all people. She doesn’t like Yangyang.”

“No, but he might like her.” Ten said, resting his chin on his palm. “Just because she likes Xiaojun doesn’t mean something can’t happen.”

“Karina’ll beat the shit outta Xiaojun later. He better watch out.” Sicheng sighed, reaching into his bag for a bottle of water.

“Speaking of, I haven’t seen him at all today.” Ten mused, wondering when the last time he saw the cerulean haired boy was. “Have you?” Sicheng went over his schedule, usually seeing Xiaojun between periods or on his way to the bathroom, but Ten was right. He was nowhere to be seen. Sicheng screwed the top off of his bottle, taking a thoughtful sip before shaking his head in confirmation.

“No. Didn’t see him once.” Ten furrowed his brows.

“Where is Xiaojun?”

⋰˚☆

Winter was finally ending soon, the sun peeking from its shelter behind the clouds and warming your face. The seat by the window was always your favorite, ever since you were a kid, the bay seat covered in cushions and positioned so that the sunshine hit at just the right angle, reflecting into rainbows off of the dangling crystal your mother gifted you years ago. 

The only downside was it faced Yangyang’s house. As a child, you despised him even further every time he ruined a moment in your favorite seat, yelling profanities out the window, tossing mudpies through the sill, or shooting nerf bullets at the crystal like it was a hanging target. But as of late, the days by the window became more bearable until it was back to being your favorite spot —and that Saturday afternoon you felt as though it would be the perfect nook to read a book with a warm cup of tea.

You barely made it to page 16 when there was an interruption.

A loud banging sound came from somewhere in the vicinity, and you looked up in alarm. Kun wasn’t home, he hardly was on Saturday as it was his designated day to go out with his college friends for a drink and some board games. Your eyes narrowly scanned the room, only for the banging sound to come again, this time clearly from across the street, particularly the window that faced yours.

As suspected, Yangyang’s head poked up from under the windowsill, hair mussed and wide eyes, panic clear on his face.

“Y/n,” He mouthed quietly, and you attempted to ignore him, looking back down to the pages of your book. “Y/n!” He whisper-yelled it this time, and you shut the book with an annoyed snap, head turning in his direction.

“What?” You hissed.

“My sister’s home.” You didn’t remember much about Yangyang’s sister, other than her being a lot more tolerable than him. She was sweet, with dark hair and a kind disposition, always willing to talk shit about her little brother with you when he wasn’t around, sometimes even bringing white rabbit and tamarind candies over to your house when she brought them back from her trips. As far as you could recall, the last time you had seen her was when you were thirteen, as she spent most of her time away at college or on trips back and forth from Germany and Taiwan.

“So what?” You huffed, and he gave you an urgent look, jabbing his thumb to the background of his house, and you could see an unknown male figure striding through the living room, cracking open a can of Cola before disappearing.

“She brought her boyfriend back from Germany. Apparently she’s been hiding him for years.” He looked back at the man’s receding figure and scowled. “The fuck is she even doing with a German guy?”

“Aren’t you from Germany?” You snorted, opening your book again.

“Yes, but I’m not white.” He glared at you. 

“Leave the poor guy alone.” Yangyang clicked his tongue, reaching out his window to rap his knuckles on the outside of the wooden windowsill, pulling your attention away from your novel.

“He calls me squirt, y/n. Squirt. That word isn’t in the bible.” You just rolled your eyes and tried to focus on your novel, but the words just blended into one mess, and you found yourself unable to concentrate. “I need you to get me out of the house.”

“Can’t you do that yourself?”

“She wants me to help her unpack, and I’m not allowed to leave until I do.”

“So just help her unpack then.”

“C’mon, y/n.” He whined, hands gripping the bottom of the windowsill and his entire upper half already out the window. “You know I hate packing.” It was true. Just a year previous, he had practically manipulated your brother into packing for him when he needed to take a trip with his father back to Taiwan. Kun came back into the house quite put out, and with a permanent scowl on his face. “Help me out, please? Just once.”

You knew it wouldn’t be just once, but you caved anyway. You couldn’t say no to him when he made that stupid face and did his whiny voice. Without a word, you shut your book and moved from the window, and from the expression on your face, Yangyang immediately knew he succeeded, running back inside and waiting for you to rescue him from his sister’s condescending boyfriend.

You rapped your knuckles three times on Yangyang’s front door, the white wood almost shaking in its frame from how hard you hit it. It took over a minute for anyone to come to the door, and you were mere seconds away from barging in and slapping some sense into the blond when it creaked open, someone unexpected behind it, Yangyang’s sister opening it rather than him. She looked different, the tips of her dark hair bleached a dusty blond that almost matched her brother, and you noticed she had grown a bit taller than the last time you saw her, hand resting on the door as her eyes widened at the sight of you.

“Oh, y/n! Gosh, you look so much older than the last time I saw you, I almost didn’t recognize you.” She said cheerily, and you found it hard to frown when she smiled so widely.  She surely had her brother’s smile. She looked you up and down, taking in the height you had gained and the way your figure had filled out more, your features more mature. She reached into the pocket of her sweats, pulling out a few white rabbit candies and dropping them into your hand. “Remember when I used to bring these? It’s been a long time, huh?”

“It has.” You said fondly, tucking the candies into your jacket.

“So, what brings you all the way over here?” She joked. “Is Yangyang bothering you again?”

“Actually, I was wondering if he was home.” You said with a gritted smile. “We’re supposed to get ice cream and see a movie.” You said. Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion, but nonetheless, she turned back to yell her brother’s name. Before the first syllable was even uttered, Yangyang came running from behind the couch to the door, a big smile on his face and his shoes already on and ready, a hoodie thrown over his head.

“I’m home.” He said breathlessly, extending his hand for you to take, which you subtly rejected. Despite the rejection, he reached down and took your hand, not asking this time, and you held back a snarky comment to keep up appearances.

“Wait,” His sister laughed, almost in disbelief. “You two are going to see a movie? Together?” When you both nodded in unison, she raised her eyebrows. “Are you serious? Are you dating each other?”

“No-”

“Yes-” You said at the same time, both of you glaring at the other at the contrasting answers. You shook your head in defiance, but he just raised your knuckles to his lips, pressing a chaste kiss on them before pulling you closer to his side, his hand releasing yours and instead snaking smoothly around your waist. “Yes. We’re dating.” You didn’t have the courage or mental clarity to protest, still focused on your racing heart and cursing at it for beating so damn fast. 

“Alright, well have fun.” Yangyang’s sister gave a look of disbelief, before shutting the door without another word. Once the aperture was closed, you swatted Yangyang’s arm, prying the other one off of your waist.

“What the hell was that?” You hissed quietly, so as not to alert his sister.

“You think I want my sister to think she’s the only one in this family that pulls?”

“Isn’t she?” You retorted, and he frowned petulantly, pulling you away from the door in fear his sister might hear. “When’s the last time you had a girlfriend?”

“Hey, I’ve dated around! Ask your little friend Winter.” He smirked, watching your face twist in disgust.

“You dated Winter?!” You gripped his collar, and he laughed, attempting to get you off as you made your way down the street in quite a disorderly manner, one of Yangyang’s knees extended to push you away and one of your hands on his chest, the other gripping the neck of his tee shirt.

“Y/n, let go of me!”

As promised, the two of you made your way to Yangyang’s favorite ice cream parlor, one where he apparently knew the workers and could get a good discount on the frozen treats. You never rejected a discount. You insisted he pay to compensate you for helping him get out of the house, and he insisted you tutor him in Chemistry in return. In the end, you got what you wanted after a few pulls of his hair.

The two of you stood on the black and white tile, Yangyang begrudgingly clutching his wallet and your eyes shining over all the flavors in the display case.

“One scoop of strawberry cheesecake and another of whatever she wants.” He grumbled, handing a few bills to the parlor employee, who you recognized to be his friend from class, one that always hung around him but seemed to have a bit more sense than the rest of his immature friends.

“So, this is how you’ve been spending your time avoiding us?” Renjun said skeptically, snatching the bills from Yangyang’s hand and shoving them into the register, not giving him any change although he owed him some. The brunette reached a hand equipped with a scooper into the case of ice cream, a cone in the other. “I thought you just had an STD or something, but turns out you were actually spending time with her. Who knew Chenle was a prophet?”

“Chenle can shove him and his stupid prophecies up his ass.” Yangyang said, snatching the scoop of strawberry ice cream from Renjun’s hand. “It’s not like that.”

“Yeah, sure.” Renjun rolled his eyes. You weren’t entirely sure what you were talking about, and why they thought Chenle was a prophet, but your current focus was choosing the right ice cream flavor to suit your fancy. Yangyang nudged you in the side, and you were brought back to reality, straightening up and pulling your face away from the ice-cold glass container.

“One scoop of mint chocolate.” You said meekly. Typically, you had no problem fucking with Yangyang’s friends, but something about Renjun’s ice cold glare and pursed lips made you shy away. The exasperated boy scooped out your order and handed it to you with a stony expression, and you took it out of his hands, careful not to make eye contact with him even though his gaze didn’t move from you, even when Yangyang pulled you through the door and into the cold air outside.

“Sorry about him.” Yangyang said sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck as he tugged you down the street. “He can be a bit suspicious of others.”

“Well, you’ve probably complained about me quite a bit. I could see why he wouldn’t like me.” You laughed, and Yangyang raised his brows like you had just proposed a challenge.

“Oh yeah? You think you don’t do the same? I got glared at for weeks after I started sitting with you at lunch. Not to mention the bowl of soup Karina threw at me.”

“Touche.” You said, smiling from the mere memory of your best friend dousing the dusty blond in hot vegetable soup. He had peas in his hair for the rest of the day, and you didn’t know if you had ever felt more satisfied. “You deserved it, though.”

“I definitely didn’t.”

Ice cream dripping onto your sticky fingers and the air reddening your cheeks, you strolled through the city aimlessly, with no real destination and no goal along the way. Well, maybe you had no goal, but Yangyang had one in mind: get to know the girl he’s known for years but despised for just as long.

“So,” He began, licking the remnants of the ice cream from the bottom of his cone. “Have you ever considered tutoring officially? There’s a lot of desperate students who need help, you could make a lot of money that way.”

“I couldn’t keep up.” You shrugged. “I get good grades because I want to, but I don’t really enjoy school work. I don’t think anyone does. Especially chemistry.” You stuck out your tongue at the thought of your piles of Chem assignments just waiting at home to be completed before the school week started again.

“So what do you like?” You had to think for a moment to answer his question; what did you like, really? You had never really been asked the question before.

“I like modern art, I like to read but only period pieces. I like acting in plays sometimes, but only with other people. Sometimes I try to paint when I have free time.” You looked up at him, watching his attentive face with narrowed eyes. “Where is this coming from?”

“I can’t wonder?”

“You never have.” Your words were true, he had never really cared before. There was no reason why he should —and Yangyang himself didn’t quite know why he did— but he wanted to know. He wanted to make up for all those years of bickering and tension, and maybe a part of him wanted to be friends with you at the end of it.

“I’m sorry. For never caring.” He apologized, your eyes widening with every word. “I should’ve tried to treat you better, even when I was younger.”

“I’m sorry too.” You sighed. “We were just kids when we started fighting, and I should’ve realized that it was childish to hold a grudge. You might have started it, but I’ve continued it for years now.” You chuckled, and he joined you. “I’ve known you longer than most of my friends, actually all of them, but we never learned about each other. Isn’t that kind of fucked up?”

“Very fucked up.” He agreed. A moment of silence washed over you like a wave, but it wasn’t tense or painful like you thought it would be. It was sweet, and soft, and gentle like an ocean breeze, and something was different about the way Yangyang looked under the light of the afternoon sun, and you weren’t sure what.

“Well, better late than never, right?” He smiled, lips turning up in the corners until his teeth showed, and you grinned at the mere sight. Your hands were inches away, and you swore if they touched your heart might burst out of your chest.

“Yeah, better late than never.”

⋰˚☆

There were two reasons you were scared to enter school that day.

You might have to see Xiaojun

You might have to see Yangyang

Seeing the most wonderful boy who broke your heart a mere weekend after he rejected you would be humiliating, and you weren’t looking forward to inevitably running into him in the multiple classes you had together. Second of all, you weren’t sure how you were feeling about Yangyang. Something in your relationship had changed: you weren’t sure when, and you weren’t sure how, but your heart beat faster when he was around, and you no longer had distaste when you saw him. In fact, seeing him made you, although you would never admit it, happy. But it didn’t matter. You had to figure out how you felt about Xiaojun before you could worry about whatever you were feeling for your neighbor.

Which is why you were going to muster up your courage and find Xiaojun before he could find you.

He wasn’t anywhere, which was odd. Typically, you would see him on the way to class, or scrawling down some messy notes in fourth period, or eating lunch under the shade of the willow tree with his feet resting on Ten’s backpack despite the older boy’s protests. On a normal day, you couldn’t avoid Xiaojun, but today didn’t feel like a regular day. No, it felt odd, and maybe that was because Yangyang was following you around everywhere you went.

“Is there a reason you’re practically glued to me right now?” You sighed, and Yangyang dismissed your comment with a shrug of his shoulders.

“I’m wondering what you’re looking for.” You ignored him, hoping he wouldn’t catch on to your search as you peeked around the corner to check for a cerulean head. Yangyang leaned in close, hands on his pockets and resting on the tips of his toes until his nose was mere inches from the back of your head. “So, what are you looking for?” “Your mom.” He frowned.

“C’mon, let’s get lunch! I’m tired of walking around the hallways.” He yawned, a loud yawn that reverberated against the tile and bounced off the walls. “Hey, you want to get hotpot? That Xiao Zhan makes some mean meatballs.” Your eyes lit up as an idea passed through your head, and a sudden urge made you pat Yangyang on the head lightly, mussing up his messy locks of dusty blond while he watched you with surprise.

“That’s a brilliant idea.” And with that, you jetted off, attempting to remember the way to the hotpot restaurant while Yangyang hesitated to follow.

Did his heart always beat that fast when you touched him?

You burst into the shop like a hurricane, a very meek Yangyang following you with his hand clamped protectively against the left side of his chest. Xiao Zhan, who was previously peacefully working at the counter, looked up upon your entrance with recognition in his eyes, standing up to assist you in finding a table.

“Ah, Xiaojun’s girlfriend.” He said, nodding his head to a table in the back with two menus in his hand. “You’re back. I was wondering when you’d show up.”

“I’m not his girlfriend.” Your cheeks felt like summer, even in the cold, and you slid into the booth with Yangyang by your side.

“You wouldn’t think that if you lived with him.” Xiao Zhan said skeptically, pulling out a notepad to write down your order and assessing the boy beside you. You weren’t sure what to make out of his comment, but it had to be a good sign, right? “Is your new fling?”

“This is Yangyang. My neighbor.” You stressed the last word, but Xiao Zhan looked nothing but skeptical.

“Oh, that’s right. You’re the little brat that was yelling at Junnie the last time you came in.” Yangyang scowled, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms. It was safe to say he likely didn’t enjoy the nickname. “Whatever, I could care less. Just try not to break my cousin’s heart.” You could feel anger bubbling up in your chest, but before it could rise to your throat, a voice interrupted.

“You should tell him not to break hers.” Yangyang said defensively, and you looked at him with shock and pride. Xiao Zhan looked at both of you questioningly before blowing off your comment and walking to the back, not bothering to take your order. It didn’t matter. He already knew what you wanted, maybe more than just food.

“Thanks for that.” You said quietly, and Yangyang shrugged.

“It’s no big deal. But god, it just pisses me off to see him talk to you like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like Xiaojun wasn’t the one to hurt you.” His eyes pierced into you like a sharp knife, and you found yourself unable to look away, wrapped up in his intense gaze. You didn’t even have the strength to contradict, to tell him that Xiaojun didn’t mean to hurt you, something in his eyes telling you to be quiet. To stop apologizing.

“Yeah.” You said, snapping out of your reverie and giggling quietly. Upon your change of tone, Yangyang smiled, his arm slowly creeping around the back of your chair, your thighs centimeters from each other, threatening to touch with every screech of the chair and every minor shift you made.

“Your meatballs.” Xiao Zhan said tiredly, eyes lingering on Yangyang’s arm inches from being around you before sliding the plate of food onto the table and striding away without another word of greeting or parting, and you reached for your chopsticks, snipping the steaming meat with the utensils.

“I have to go to the bathroom.” Yangyang said suddenly, standing up and sending his chair scooting backward. “Be right back.” You nodded, surprised by his sudden declaration, taking a few bites once he was out of sight and unable to complain about you not waiting for him. You could sense a pair of eyes on you, a certain brown pair that belonged to Xiaojun’s cousin lingering at the edge of the kitchen, elbows on the counter and gaze unwavering. Once the lock of the bathroom door clicked with finality, he approached your table, sliding into the seat across from you. You tried to eat in silence, suppressing your curiosity, but you found yourself unable to appear unbothered.

“Where’s Xiaojun?” You asked, not looking up from your appetizer.

“Home.” Xiao Zhan said simply, and you glared at him, clearly seeking more. “What do you want to hear? He has a cold.”

“A cold.” You said skeptically, and he shrugged. “Is that what he told you?”

“Hey, if he doesn’t want to go to school, that’s none of my business.”

“It kinda is. You are his guardian, after all.”

“Look, Xiaojun’s having a hard time right now. Being sick in the head is just as concerning as being physically sick. Who am I to force him to go to school when he’s not ready, just because you want to see him?”

“I don’t want to see him.” You said stubbornly, and he raised an eyebrow. “W-well, I don’t mean it like that…”

“He’s homesick, and sick with a few other things.” Xiao Zhan sighed, picking up the half full platter of meatballs and standing from his seat. “Wait for him.” His last words seemed to hold more meaning than they appeared to, and you gulped upon his sudden order, poking the inside of your cheek with your tongue. He didn’t wait for a response, just disappearing into the kitchen, precisely in time to avoid Yangyang as the latter left the bathroom.

You didn’t know what to think. Wasn’t high school supposed to be full of teenage romance and comradery? So far, it had only caused you strife.

The blond boy stood stock still in front of the table, damp hands at his sides slightly outstretched as he stared at the blank surface.

“Where’s the meatballs?” 

⋰˚☆

“It’s fifty two.”

“It’s fifteen.”

“Yangyang, it’s fifty two.” You sighed, and the boy pouted stubbornly.

“It’s definitely fifteen. I double checked my math.”

“Double checking is useless if you're stupid.” You snapped, pulling the paper from his hands and going over his work. “You forgot to use the inverse function. How’d you forget to use the inverse function?” Yangyang grabbed the homework back from you and slammed his head down on the desk, letting out a low groan against the laminated wood, his cheeks flattened and deflated.

“This is absolute hell.”

“Hey, you’re the one who wanted me to tutor you.” You snickered, easing the paper out of his hands and looking over it. “Hey, go get snacks from the vending machine. I don’t think we’re gonna get through this session without some fortification.” Yangyang sighed, lifting his head and digging through his pockets for his wallet.

“First ice cream, then this? You’re gonna run me dry.” “Hey, I’m tutoring you for no charge. Be grateful.” His eyes lit up, and he grabbed your hands immediately, holding them close as he stared at you with wide eyes.

“You mean it?”

“Yes, for free. Now go get snacks.”

“Yes ma’am!” He exclaimed, running down the hall to find the vending machine among the empty halls, night beginning to fall over the campus as students dissipated from the school. Once he was gone you shook your head with a fond smile, turning back to his assignment and attempting to figure out what he had done horribly wrong in his equation, waiting for the snacks that Yangyang was retrieving.

A minute went by. You figured it would take him a while to find the nearest machine, it was surely no problem. Three went by. You knew that it would take some considerable thought to choose which snacks to buy. Five minutes passed, then ten, then fifteen, and now you were starting to get concerned. It couldn’t possibly take that long, not when you knew for a fact that the nearest vending machine was one right turn away and Yangyang always bought chocolate chips and cheetos. You stood up from your seat, chair screeching back as you got to your feet, wrapping your jacket a bit tighter around your waist as you left the room.

“Fucking stupid thing-” You heard from down the hall, and you rolled your eyes. “Stupid ass vending machine-” A bang cut off the end of Yangyang’s angry sentence as he kicked the machine, then prompt gripped his foot in pain, folding in half and holding it to his chest in a position that looked both challenging and painful.

“Is there a problem?” You said in amusement from a few meters away, and he dropped his foot, eyes widening as he straightened up immediately.

“N-not a problem.” He stammered. “The stupid fucking machine just took my money.” You got closer, arms still wrapped around your waist, reaching down to the slot for the snacks and looking through the glass to see inside. A bag of cheetos, tteokbokki chips, chocolate turtle chips, and a can of coke were all crammed up, perched precariously against each other but somehow lodged firmly in the top of the opening.

“Did you try ordering something else?” You laughed, and he froze. You dropped a quarter into the opening, pressing down on the lit up buttons and ordering a bottle of water. It dropped, knocking all the snacks apart and the full order came crashing through the opening, dropping neatly into the slot, ready to consume. You leaned down at the same time Yangyang did, both of your hands reaching for the snacks inside.

Your nose was mere inches from his, and you could feel his breath on your face, the proximity between the two of you so small it made your heart feel like it would explode out of your chest. You thought he would back up, put some distance between the two of you and maybe give you his signature sneer, just to confirm that he didn’t give a shit about you, that he didn’t want to be close enough to touch you. But he didn’t.

Instead, he leaned in.

Your lips crashed, and soon the snacks were forgotten. You closed your eyes, his already clamped shut as he circled an arm around your waist, the both of you straightening up to a standing position. You snaked your arms around his neck, one of your hands playing with his shaggy hair as he smiled into the kiss, holding you like you would shatter if he released you. It was rushed, full of released tension and unspoken feelings, things you wanted to say but never could. He parted your lips for only a brief moment to whisper quietly,

“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to do that.” Then he dove back in, and that’s when you realized you might’ve liked him longer than you thought.

Neither of you gave a shit about Trigonometry anymore, or the abandoned snacks, only focusing on the way your lips fit like two puzzle pieces slamming into each other on the wrong side, until they finally turned a few degrees and fit. You and Yangyang fit, you finally fit, and you couldn’t be happier.

Your back hit the vending machine as Yangyang pressed a hand against the cold glass, forcing all the space between you out as he tangled his free fingers in your hair, lips tracing against your own before moving to kiss your jaw. You thought your heart might’ve stopped when he ran his lips down your jawline, peppering sloppy kisses across your skin. In all your years, you thought you had kissing experience, but now you were beginning to think you had never really been kissed at all.

“Yangyang,” You said out, a choked giggle escaping from between your swollen lips, and he released his other hand from the glass to caress your jaw lightly, touch soft and gentle with a smile equally fond on his face. “I cannot believe you just did that.”

“We, y/n. We’re in this together, right?” He asked softly, pressing his forehead to yours, and you pecked him on the lips. He looked more beautiful than you had ever seen him before, the washed out white light of the hallway illuminating his skin, eyes wide and glossy, his lips plump and swollen from all the contact. His hair was swept away from his forehead and jutting up sporadically, and you couldn’t help but smile.

“Yeah. Of course we are.” You said before giggling uncontrollably, and he separated from you, giving you a questioning look. “I’m sorry. I’m just so surprised.”

“About what?” He said, a hand still hesitating on your waist like he didn’t want to truly let go of you, fingers fisting the fabric of your shirt tightly.

“Well, out of everyone,” You pressed a hand to his cheek, running down his jawline with a smile, and you swore you saw hearts in his eyes. “It ended up being you.”

“And that’s a good thing, right?” He asked, worry evident in his eyes, and you wanted nothing more than to confirm to him how much you liked him. You never thought you would like him this much.

“A happy ending for an ironic story.” You confirmed, and he beamed, kissing up and down your cheeks with excitement, in a way that made you uncontrollably grin.

“I never thought my first kiss with you would be against a vending machine.”

“Oh, so you imagined kissing me before?” His cheeks flamed as you simpered.

“Shut up.”

Yangyang took you home that night, or more precisely, drove you home, although not in a car. Nine years of knowing the boy, and you had no clue he could ride a motorcycle. When he reached your doorstep, you parted with a sweet kiss on the lips and a soft goodnight whispered under bated breath, and you found you didn’t mind getting along with Yangyang for the time being. 

Of course, Kun had his suspicions when he heard the roar of a motorcycle from outside his window at 9 pm, and that you coincidentally decided to suddenly arrive home at the same time Yangyang parked his Yamaha Vmax. But he let it go, assuming it would be best to wait ‘til the morning to interrogate you about your relationship.

Life was sweet. Maybe the bickering had stopped you from seeing that.

⋰˚☆

“Y/n.” Karina said, lounging on the couch with a glass of Sprite in her hand, head dangling off the edge of the cushions. “Why is Yangyang your lock screen?” You froze mid motion, about to pour yourself a bowl of jiujiang from your brother’s liquor cabinet. You continued, figuring you’d need the bit of alcohol to get yourself through this conversation. You usually had Yangyang as your lock screen when you were alone and with him, a photo you had taken when he was swinging at the park down the street, a bright smile on his face and his feet kicking in the air as he waved at the camera.

“I like that photo.” You said simply, hoping the lame explanation was enough.

“When’d you take this?” Karina asked suspiciously, sitting up and staring a bit closer at your phone until you reached over her shoulder and snatched it from her.

“None of your business.” You snapped, shoving the device into your pocket before she could inquire further, and realization flooded her eyes, mouth gaping open in shock.

“Y/n!” She screeched. “You’re not dating Liu Yangyang!” You clapped a hand over her mouth, pulling her head down and looking around in paranoia.

“He might hear you.” You hissed. “He’s right next door.”

“Y/n, please tell me you’re not dating Yangyang.” She said, voice muffled, and you looked away, releasing her mouth and taking a spoonful of rice porridge.

“Don’t tell anyone.” You ordered. “I’m not actually dating him. He never asked me to be his girlfriend.”

“But you go on dates?” You nodded. “You hold hands?” You nodded. “You kiss each other?” You hesitated this time, but eventually nodded, and Karina exhaled through her nose. “Then you’re dating. God, I knew this would happen.”

“We’re not dating.” You said stubbornly, putting the bowl to your mouth and abandoning the spoon, just slurping the rice porridge off the edge of the cup.

“Y/n, I’ve known you for years. I can tell when you like somebody, and you like Yangyang. Probably more than you know.” You scoffed skeptically at her statement, but she shrugged and leaned back. “Best friends see things you don’t, you know. I can tell.” She insisted, and you took another sip of the porridge indignantly. But her words got you thinking, maybe Karina was right. Yangyang hadn’t left your mind since that night two days previous when he kissed you, and the butterflies that filled your stomach when he entered your mind were anything but platonic,

Maybe you liked Yangyang a little more than you thought you did.

March was almost over, the last week of the winter ending and the new season approaching, something even more worrisome coming with it: prom. Weeks passed, the 31st creeping closer with every day, and yet, Yangyang never asked you to be his girlfriend. You never asked him what you were to him, what was happening between the two of you. You had seen that line, the “what are we?” spiel in an endless amount of movies, shows, and shitty romance novels, and you swore you wouldn’t open your heart to the boy before he opened his to you. 

 Maybe there was a part of you that was afraid he would abandon you after that night at the vending machine, that he would write it off as a mistake —or maybe, in a horrible twist of events, check something off his bucket list— but fortunately enough, the kiss seemed to be on his mind just as much as it was on yours, if not more. He never kissed you in front of your friends, he was waiting for approval on that front, which you weren’t sure if you were ready to give. The sight of you and him merely getting along was enough to make Ten heave up his lunch, so public displays of affection were almost entirely off boundaries. But the occasional moment when nobody was looking during a Chem lecture, when he had a chance to pull you into the corner of the cafeteria before the lunch rush, or when Ms. Choi forgot to lock the classroom door, he’d plant the biggest kiss on you and hold you like you were his world. It was nice. Maybe too nice, because you sure as hell weren’t used to it yet.

Going from tossing food during conversation and dumping chili paste in each other’s morning tea to kissing and holding hands between tutoring sessions was beginning to give you whiplash. He also hadn’t asked you to be his girlfriend yet. If you were being honest, you weren’t sure if you were happy about that or not.

It didn’t matter to you. It was only week 1 of kissing Liu Yangyang on the regular; you were sure you’d get used to it at some point, and who knows, maybe one day the two of you would be one of those couples that caused envy wherever they went, the type that did facemasks and went to movies just to ignore the screen and stare at each other until their eyes went dull. You had time, time to learn to love Liu Yangyang and time to wait patiently until he told you he wanted to be with you.

You thought you had time. Until Xiaojun came back to school.

“Can we talk?” There it was, the infamous line. Xiaojun had popped out of absolutely nowhere, backpack half across his shoulders, hair mussed and free from its usual neat style. His bangs were drooping slightly in  his face, the blue washed out to a lighter teal with a tinge of chlorine green, and he had dark circles under his eyes that looked like they carried the weight of all his thoughts. He looked like a mess, a beautiful mess, and you were absolutely not ready to talk to him.

The rest of your friends had their mouths agape at the sudden reappearance of what was now widely known as your “highschool sweetheart”. Ten had a look on his face like you had just slapped him across the cheek, and Karina seemed seconds away from murder, eyes dark and arms crossed, likely to hold back whatever violent move she was thinking of pulling. 

Yangyang looked upset. Very upset, flecks of white sparkling across his worried eyes, and you could feel his fingers begin to intertwine with yours where the others couldn’t see it, hidden under the fabric of his hoodie sleeve.

“I don’t really want to talk.” You laughed nervously, and Yangyang’s hand squeezed yours tightly for a brief moment. It was true, you didn’t want to talk. Not because you were angry, no, you weren’t so immature as to get mad at being rejected. You were scared. Scared of what he might say and what it might make you think.

“Please, y/n.” His voice dropped an octave and quieted just as much, low enough for only you and the person next to you to hear. “I need to tell you something.” Yangyang was a second away from interrupting. He didn’t want you to go, he didn’t want you to admit that he had someone in his life who would take his place, who could convince you that he wasn’t good enough and never would be. Yangyang had spent enough of his life being hated by you, and he couldn’t stand another year, another day, another second.

“Fine.” You said, and Yangyang’s breath hitched in his throat. Don’t go, he wanted to scream, but you gave his hand an affirming squeeze before standing, brushing off your shirt and following the blue haired boy who had already begun to walk, seeing where he would take you. Hendery cupped his mouth to cheer, but Sicheng tugged his arm down before he could utter a word. Yangyang bit his lip, cold and empty hand coming to his side and slipping into his pocket.

All he could do was wait.

Xiaojun walked for a few minutes in no particular direction, seeking anywhere secluded and private enough to have a proper conversation. You followed silently, afraid that if you spoke you might ruin whatever peacefulness was left between the two of you. Maybe, just maybe, you could be friends again. You just had to hear him out.

Xiaojun wrapped a delicate hand around the doorknob of any empty classroom, turning the knob and walking inside, waiting for you to enter before he shut the door behind you. He locked it, which was concerning, but you tried not to think much about it, watching from beside the door as he leaned against an empty desk. Silence passed between the two of you like waves washing over a worn out shore, before he cleared his throat and mustered up the strength to speak.

“I’m sorry.” He started, and you looked away. “I’m sorry for not considering how you were feeling, and I’m sorry for being so painfully oblivious. I’m sorry for embarrassing you, and I’m sorry for making you tutor me for free when you probably had better things to do. I’m sorry for making you spend time with me.”

“There’s really no need to apologize.” You said timidly. “I don’t care that you rejected me. I’d rather that you’re honest with me. It’ll hurt less in the end.” Xiaojun shook his head, and you thought you could see tears welling up in the corner of his eyes, although maybe that was just your imagination.

“I wasn’t honest with you.” He admitted hesitantly. “I didn’t take the time to think about it, because I was so confused. I was confused why you, such a wonderful, friendly, intelligent person, would give a shit about me.” You wanted to interrupt, but you could tell from the serious look in his eyes that he needed to finish saying his thoughts aloud. “When I came to Korea, I didn’t know anyone other than my cousin. I thought people wouldn’t like me, that I would stand out, or that maybe my dreams were stupid and I would never be good enough to make it here if I couldn’t make it in back in China.” He finally looked up from the floor, and you could feel his eyes on you even if you didn’t see it. “But you told me I could do it. You wanted to know about me, you tutored me when I was struggling because you understood me.” You moved from your place by the door to sit on a desk across from him, and he made eye contact, serious and full of drowned emotion. “You were the first person I met here that treated me so kindly. And I took advantage of that.”

“No, you didn’t.” You tried to defend him, but he shook his head yet again.

“I did. And those days I spent at home, trying to get you out of my head, made me realize something.” He put a hand on your arm softly, his eyes watering with shimmering tears in his ducts. “I really can’t live without you.” You stuttered, unsure of what response to give him, what to say to assure him that you felt the same way. Your heart was betraying your mind, and instead of telling him it would be okay and you could still be friends, you set your hand on top of his, eyes shining. That one movement triggered something, and Xiaojun leaned forward, putting one hand on your cheek and the other reaching for the table beside you.

You kissed before you could properly think about it. You didn’t want to, but you wanted nothing more, and as horrible as you felt, a weight had been lifted from your shoulders the moment his lips touched yours. He sighed into the kiss, pulling you closer, limbs entangling on top of the desk as he pulled you to his side. Maybe a minute passed, maybe two, but you finally summoned the will to pull away, panting and your lips swollen from his on top of your own.

“Is something wrong?” He asked with concern, putting his hand on top of yours, and you shook your head, unsure of what to say or do.

“Nothing wrong.” You stammered. “I-I just…” What were you supposed to say? Wasn’t this exactly what you were looking for those weeks ago, when you told him you liked him in the middle of the library for everyone to hear?

Xiaojun depended on you. You were his safety net, his escape hatch for when he needed a taste of home and someone to tell him everything would be okay. You were his home in a place far away from home.

“I’m glad you told me.” You said finally, and he grinned, a grin that knocked you off your feet. After so long, he was just as beautiful as he was when you first met him, and you found your heart speeding up the same way it did when you told him you liked him. You had hoped that maybe something would change, that after a week of not thinking about him, you would stop liking him, that these confusing feelings would go away and you could live your life as friends and nothing more. But when he smiled at you like you were his whole world, you came to a painful realization. 

You couldn’t just be friends with someone who smiled at you like that.

⋰˚☆

You tried your best to keep everything that had happened in the classroom a secret. You straightened out your hair and clothes in a hurry, attempting to look presentable, and applied lip plumper so you’d have an excuse to tell Ten when he would inevitably ask you why your lips looked so swollen. When Xiaojun tried to hold your hand on the way back, you politely told him you weren’t ready yet, and he gave you a confused look, yet respected your wishes and let go.

Turns out your efforts were all for naught, as Yangyang was nowhere to be seen when you exited. Karina, Hendery and Ten were the only ones left, laying on their stomachs as Karina painted Ten’s nails a fresh new shade of green, Hendery left to his own devices and one second from spilling purple nail polish all over his hands.

“Where’s Yangyang?” You asked immediately upon arriving to the spot under the willow tree, and the three looked up with surprise at your abrupt comment.

“He and Sicheng went to get snacks from Jaehyun’s table. You know Yuta will give Sicheng anything for a hug.” Ten said. You sighed in relief, dropping onto the picnic blanket spread across the grass. “What about you two?” He wiggled his eyebrows, and you glared at him fiercely. “Did you make out- make up?” You slapped his arm as punishment for his very obvious comment. “Freudian slip.” He shrugged, and Karina gave you a suspicious look. Xiaojun reached for your arm instinctively, but you nudged him with your foot, his hand slowly coming to rest on the blanket instead.

“Yeah. We made up.” Xiaojun said, clearing his throat, and the other three looked at you with some kind of disappointment, going back to painting their nails.

“Boring.” Ten yawned, and you rolled your eyes.

“Ignore him.” You said quietly to Xiaojun, and he nodded, hand sneaking to yours under the blanket in a place where nobody could see, and you felt nausea rush through your stomach at the deja vu.

You didn’t see Yangyang for the rest of the school day. Even when Sicheng returned to the group with an armful of snacks brought straight from Canada by Mark’s father, and the group ravenously destroyed them, he didn’t show up, not even when Sicheng brought out the cheetos. You thought for certain he had some kind of cheeto radar, and if the cheesy snacks couldn’t bring him back to the picnic, you figured something must have happened to keep him away. He didn’t offer to walk you home like usual, and you took the route back to your house alone, cardigan tightly wrapped around you to keep out the chilly wind, nose running from the sudden rush of cold. You were suddenly wishing you had brought a thicker jacket to school that day, as home was still almost a mile away and the sky was turning more and more gray by the minute.

Even a day later, he was still missing. Another day passed, and Yangyang still wasn’t in class. He wasn’t in class all day, and you beginning to wonder if he had somehow found out about your conversation with Xiaojun by some cruel twist of fate, and was skipping school to avoid you. But he didn’t come the next day, the next, the next, or the one after that, and you were no longer concerned about him avoiding you, you were wondering if he was still alive. Yangyang might not be the best student, but he never skipped class; his parents would kill him if he did. So for him to be missing from attendance for four days straight, it wasn’t a common occurrence.

Xiaojun still hadn’t taken a step back from the first time he kissed you, seemingly just taking more steps closer to you instead. What had started as innocent quality time and tutoring —which you had finally reinstated— ended up turning into make out sessions in the janitor’s closet and dates to wherever you could manage. One day, he took you to the ice cream parlor without you knowing, and you swore Renjun had murder in his eyes when he handed you a cone of mint choco. Since then, you tried to avoid the places Yangyang had taken you before.

You had to tell Yangyang now. As soon as you got back from class and your regular tutoring sessions, which took longer than expected, you were going to march straight over to his house to break up with him before your relationship even started, even as much as you didn’t want to. And so here you were, standing at his doorstep with your knuckles hovering over the hardwood, ready to tell the boy that you couldn’t be with him anymore, if you weren’t even together in the first place.

To your surprise, the one behind the door wasn’t Yangyang, but his female counterpart, standing in a fuzzy pajama set with a bottle of coke in one hand and her phone in the other. You figured that fluffy sleepwear must be a fondness that runs in the family.

“Oh, y/n!” Yangyang’s sister exclaimed, opening the door a bit wider after seeing your familiar face. “I would invite you in, but our house is a bit of a war zone right now.”

“Why is that?” You asked curiously, and the mere question seemed to tire her out as she rolled her eyes and jabbed her thumb at the background of the house.

“He’s got cholera, God knows how.” She said exasperatedly, folding her arms. “Me and Stefan are staying out of his bedroom for now, while he quarantines.” You assumed Stefan must be her new German boyfriend, and nodded, stomach sinking with every word she uttered. “Apparently cholera requires a week of quarantine, which seems excessive for a bad case of dehydration.” She rolled her eyes, and you felt your breath hitch. A week? That explained why he was missing for so long, but prom was in four days, and you barely had time to tell him before it came around, if he came back to school in time for the occasion. “He’s feeling a bit better, but he still can’t leave. I had to screw his windows shut after he tried to sneak out.” She shook her head, but seemed to realize she was babbling, clearing her throat in embarrassment and covering her mouth with her fist. “Um, is there a message you wanted me to give him?”

No way. You absolutely could not break up with Liu Yangyang through his sister.

“Nothing.” You lied. “Um, just let him know I hope he feels better soon. Can he still text or call?” She shook her head.

“No, and it’s driving him insane. He left his phone at school and none of us are allowed to get it.” You nodded. You supposed you would rather not talk to him over the phone regardless. Karina had been broken up with over text in 10th grade, and she tossed a porcelain vase out the window when she found out. You’d rather not have that happen, or worse, considering your house was within easy reach.

“Alright. Tell him I hope he gets healthy soon.” You said despondently.

“I’m sure that’ll make him feel better.” She said with a knowing look and a wink, disappearing back behind the door.

You supposed all you could do was wait.

⋰˚☆

“I’m breaking up with Yangyang.” Karina's eyes widened from the other side of the phone, and she slapped a hand over her mouth.

“Are you sure?”

“Xiaojun and I,” You hesitated to finish your sentence. “When we made up, he kissed me.” Karina let out a squeal, and you clicked your tongue at her disapprovingly. “Rin, that’s not a good thing!”

“I think it is!” She defended. “You’ve liked Xiaojun since you first met him, I can tell. Forget Yangyang, that boy is golden. Sweet, caring, affectionate, and now he’s relatively smart now that you’ve tutored him. Not to mention he’s insanely hot.” You pinched the space between your eyebrows pensively. “Are you still meeting up?”

“Yes.” You said reluctantly. “I’m basically cheating on Yangyang.”

“Well, a bit. But you’re planning to break up with him, right? I mean, he hasn’t even asked you to be his girlfriend.”

“I just have to wait until he gets over his fucking cholera, then I’ll tell him.” You rubbed your temples. “This is stressing me out, Rin. I don’t know what to do.”

“Do you think Xiaojun will ask you to be his girlfriend?”

“I don’t know.”

“Prom?

“I don’t know.” You repeated through gritted teeth. “It’s four days away, and I have no idea what the fuck to do. What if Yangyang asks me to prom?”

“Tell him to fuck off.”

“That’s mean, Karina.”

“Isn’t it meaner to ignore him?” She had a point. Wasn’t it a bit more cruel to let him wonder, than to tell him you didn’t want to be with him? Was it true that you didn’t want to be with him? Everything was confusing, but you knew one thing: you didn’t want to hurt him. While it was inevitable, the least you could do was make it brief.

“I’m going to tell him as soon as I can see him again. Once his quarantine is over, I’ll do it. I’m going to end things with Yangyang.”

It had been seven days since Yangyang had abruptly gone into quarantine, and you had been rehearsing how to break the news to him.

You found that you no longer wanted to go out anymore. Every time Ten wanted to go to the ice cream parlor, you found yourself unable to face the server, when Sicheng suggested you take a trip to the mall, you couldn’t help but think of when Yangyang had taken you shopping to get a dress for your date on the weekend. And more often than not, you caught yourself thinking about him when you were home alone, sitting on the couch with nothing to do but stew in your thoughts, as you were now.

Your reverie was interrupted by a sudden ring of the doorbell, the reverberating chime startling you out of your thoughts and bringing you back to reality. Kun wasn’t here to open the door, so you mustered up the energy to stand up and do it yourself, desperately hoping it wasn’t Hendery asking to go on a double date for the fiftieth time. The door creaked open, revealing not Hendery, but the last person you wanted to see while in deep contemplation.

“Oh, Xiaojun.” You said in surprise, nervously smiling when you saw the giddy boy, who seemed to be holding something rather large behind his back.

“Hey.” Xiaojun said breathlessly, and he was panting like he had ran across town, a bead of sweat decorating the baby hairs on his forehead and matting them down to his skin. Your eyes drifted down to the large, white object concealed behind his back, which seemed to stretch almost as tall as him and was so wide it peeked a few inches out from behind his figure on both sides. He looked around your house, checking the background for something you weren’t sure of. “Is your brother home?”

“He’s out with some friends.” You said vaguely, the side of the door still clutched in your hand tightly like you were holding onto a life raft. You were afraid to let him, afraid of what might happen and the guilt you would feel when it was over. Luckily, he made no advances, just puffing out his chest and setting his jaw.

“Well, then I guess there’s no time like the present.” Xiaojun said, taking a deep breath to steady himself before pulling the object from behind his back, which you now realized was a sign, and you studied the text on it with wide eyes containing both utter horror and pure joy. “Y/n Qian, will you be my date to prom?” He asked with scrunched up eyes, a wide smile on his face as he presented his sign to you with one hand and a rose in the other, the sign handwritten and sloppy, with paper hearts pasted all across the border. ‘Y/n, will you accept this rose and go to prom with me?’, it said, and you couldn’t help but laugh at the bad Bachelorette reference, a hand over your mouth. It was ugly, it was the last thing you wanted, and it was the happiest you had ever been.

“Xiaojun,” You said in disbelief, taking the rose from his hand and holding it tightly to your chest, the damp, red petals leaving wet prints on your shirt. “Wow…”

“Is that a good wow, or a bad wow?” He asked hesitantly, and let out a breath of relief when you laughed loudly, a big smile on your face.

“A good wow.” You affirmed. He watched you expectantly, waiting for your answer, and you knew you couldn’t stall forever. You wanted to say yes, you really did, but some kind of guilt settled itself in the bottom of your stomach, pooling there comfortably, not seeming like it would leave any time soon. After everything that had happened between you and both boys, you weren’t sure where your heart belonged. But all you knew was Xiaojun was more than a friend, and the thought of him being any less was nothing but devastating. “O-of course I’ll go to prom with you.” At your words, his eyes widened in surprise, and it made you wonder if he thought you would say no. He dropped the sign, leaping forward to wrap his arms around you and plant a massive kiss on your cheek, making you giggle and pull him inside, hoping that nobody had seen.

“Would you be my girlfriend then?” He asked hesitantly, fearing a rejection, but you nodded softly, making him drop his head in relief. “God, that makes me so happy.” He said contentedly, face resting in the crook of your neck, his nose grazing against your skin as he spoke into your shoulder. You shut the door behind the two of you, making sure to bring the sign inside, and chuckled at his tight embrace, not daring to move him. You pressed a soft kiss to his temple, the most easily accessible body part, and smiled.

“I’m so happy that you asked me.” You confessed, and you could feel him grin against your skin. “One problem.” He stood straight immediately, head coming up from your shoulder with a concerned frown on his face.

“What?”

“I don’t have a dress.” He relaxed visibly upon your joking statement, a hand tracing your cheek as he pressed a kiss to your lips.

“We’ll fix that, baby. Don’t you worry.”

⋰˚☆

That morning, you slept straight through your alarm. The minute that Xiaojun parted from your house with a sweet kiss and a wave goodbye, you had called Karina to gush over the sudden proposal, and upon hearing the news, your best friend had screamed and insisted she come over for a celebratory sleepover. You woke up with a missing best friend —who had gone home to get a fresh pair of clothes and pick up Hendery in the morning— and a mere ten minutes before class started, with barely enough time to get ready, much less walk to school. You forced your exhausted and very hungover brother to drive you to school, making it there just in time to catch your friends at the gate, with only a few minutes before the morning bell would ring.

“Hey!” Hendery yelled when he saw you, the group lingering outside the front gate on one of the stone ledges in front of the entrance. “Where’ve you been?”

“Overslept.” You panted, having ran the last two blocks after you felt unsafe with Kun at the wheel, which wasn’t a very normal occurrence considering he was quite the driver. Karina and Xiaojun gave you a knowing look, the latter grabbing your hand and pecking a kiss onto your cheek. Ten watched the action with an expression like someone had just slapped him on the face, Sicheng looked rather unbothered, and Hendery immediately leaned in to get all the information from his girlfriend, who jabbed him in the side with her elbow.

“Well that’s new.” Sicheng said matter-0f-factly.

“I didn’t tell you?” You tittered, fidgeting with your free hand, the other still clasped in Xiaojun’s. “We’re dating.”

“I fucking knew it!” Ten exclaimed, slinging an arm each around your shoulders. “So, when did this happen?” “We talked last night.” Xiaojun clarified, and you squeezed his hand with a smile. “I think we figured a lot of things out, and I told her how I felt. I also asked her to prom.” He pressed a chaste kiss to your temple that made your heart burst out of your chest.

“Oh, did you?” Hendery asked with a smile, raising his brows. “I’m surprised Liu Yangyang didn’t beat you to it.” In a second, the mood changed, Xiaojun’s expression immediately turning stony as you looked down at your feet. Karina nudged the boy in the side again, a bit harder this time, and he looked around in confusion. “What?” “You dumbass.” Karina mumbled exasperatedly, clapping a hand over his mouth. “You wanna go inside, guys? Class is gonna start soon.” The others nodded, and you silently thanked Karina for saving you a very awkward conversation, grasping Xiaojun’s hand and walking with the group to your next period.

“I have to go.” Xiaojun said, his fingers releasing from yours, hands separating slightly. “My first period is across campus.” It was odd, that when you were seeing him before, the last thing you wanted was to hold hands. But the thought of letting go, letting him leave, made you scared. It was day eight of Yangyang’s absence, the day his quarantine was over and he could return to school as normal, and you were absolutely not prepared to face him. You kept a hold on his hand, still looking at the floor, and he sighed, pressing his hand softly to your cheek. “Hey, don’t worry. I’ll see you later. Maybe we can go shopping for matching prom outfits?” You smiled at the proposal, and he grinned. He caressed your skin soothingly, and you wondered how he was always capable of making you feel better when you needed it. “I’ll see you at lunch, baby.” And with that, he was gone, walking away with a soft smile on his face and a wave, which you returned. You were alone again, absolutely not ready to walk into the first period where Yangyang would undoubtedly be sitting in the middle of class with a bright smile and a kiss ready to be planted on your cheek.

And for the first time in weeks, you’d have to pretend you didn’t want to kiss him.

Maybe you had done something right in your past life, because Yangyang wasn’t in class. You weren’t sure if it was a blessing or curse, but out of sight, out of mind. Maybe it was a blessing that he had gone missing from prom, and you could enjoy the highlight of your senior year without him weighing on your mind, or the fear of running into him among the bustling crowd. You decided to focus on getting outfits for prom instead, a thought that made your heart race and your cheeks warm at the mere suggestion. Just the mental image of you and Xiaojun walking into prom with a matching suit and dress made you drop your head to your desk, trying to hide the fond smile that stretched out your cheeks. And so the day flew by, your head consumed with conversations with a blond and shopping with your boyfriend, whichever came first.

“You seem spaced out, baby.” Xiaojun said, waving his hand in front of your eyes, watching you with concern. You snapped out of your trance, blinking hard.

“Ah, sorry.” You stammered as you tried to process what he had just asked you. He seemed to read your mind, repeating his question again for you to hear.

“What do you think?” He asked, stepping back a few paces and doing a playful twirl. He had picked out a pretty dress, holding it up and showing it off, excited for your response. “Do you like it?” It was almost floor length, a lovely shade of emerald with a golden leaf design wrapping across and layers of tulle stretching from the midsection and reaching to the floor. It was pretty, but something about it wasn’t exactly what you had in mind. You pondered his choice, before shaking your head, and he pouted.

“Something isn’t right.” You mused, and he walked back to the racks of dresses petulantly, shoving the dress back on the hanger and onto the organizer. Your eyes searched the rows upon rows of fluffy fabric for something that caught your eye, anything, until you found it. The dress.

It was sitting at the end of the racks, shoved into the corner and partially hidden behind a poofy black number. You reached for it, taking it off the hanger with a smile. It reached the floor, pleated sheer fabric laying on top of a silky crimson red, a corset-like bodice on top with and off the shoulder neckline decorated with pearls and two thin bows. The color was like deep plum wine, and the sight of it was purely breathtaking. It was exactly what you were looking for.

“This one.” You said immediately, holding it up to your frame with an endeared grin. “I like this dress.” Xiaojun’s eyes raised, looking you up and down before pressing a kiss to your cheek softly.

“If you like it, I like it.” He said with a smile, taking it out of your hands. “I didn’t know you liked red.” He cleared his throat and jabbed his thumb to the other side of the store, containing masculine formal wear. “I’ll go find a matching suit.” He expected you to follow, but you stood stock still, deep in your thoughts, and so he left without you. Xiaojun was right. You didn’t like red, you didn’t like it all, so you hadn’t a clue why you chose the dress with the color you liked least.

How annoying. You just had to pick a dress in Yangyang’s favorite color.

⋰˚☆

Prom was upon you. Your nerves were shot, you could feel your hands trembling and you felt unsteady in your heels, like they didn’t fit your feet quite right and you might tip over if you took a step. You thought this must be the closest feeling to the few moments before your wedding, and you hoped you would have a bit more composure when that moment eventually came.

You thought you looked pretty good, if you did say so yourself. Karina certainly did, dressed up in a satiny light pink dress with a low neckline that was likely to make Hendery’s eyes pop out of his head. If you knew him, and you did, he would drop to his knees. You only hoped your boyfriend had as good of a reaction to yourself.

“You look fine.” Karina insisted, tugging you away from the mirror by the arm. “Better than fine, in fact. You look gorgeous.” She smoothed down a stray strand of your hair and tucked it behind your ear with a smile. “The boys will be here soon. We should get going, hm?” You nodded, intertwining your hand with hers as you made your way down the stairs to see your brother sobbing, a camera in his right hand.

“God, my little sister is all grown up.” He cried, throwing himself onto you, and you pushed him off, brushing off your dress.

“Don’t! You’ll get tear stains on my makeup.” You said, nudging him in the side and eventually pulling him into a hug when you saw the saddened look on his face. “I’m not that old, Kun. Just wait until I get to college.” That made him cry harder. 

You and Karina left your wailing older brother behind when you heard the doorbell ring, the both of you looking at each other in excitement before dashing to the door, both of you tussling over the doorknob. You got a hand on it first, swinging the door open to reveal the two men standing behind it, stunning smiles on both of their faces and neat suits on their bodies. Karina flew to her boyfriend, and he watched her with wide eyes, taking in her appearance in shock.

“Holy shit, you look incredible.” He said with a gaping mouth, and she tapped his chin with her manicured nail, a fond smile on her face.

“You don’t look too bad yourself.” The couple giggled, beginning to chat, but you and Xiaojun had yet to say a word to each other, still staring at the other from a few feet away, your hand clutching the door knob for dear life.

“Xiaojun.” You said breathlessly.

“Y/n.” He answered in response, seeming just as stunned.

He was the prettiest picture you had ever seen. Dressed in a blazer with black lapels and a deep crimson body, he looked like someone had dragged an angel down from heaven, hair styled neatly, a few stray strands of blue hair dropping onto his forehead adorably. You wanted to brush them away, but after a moment of thought, you decided you liked them better like that. “You look… beautiful.” He seemed to be at a loss for words, and your cheeks heated up at the way he shamelessly checked you out. “I don’t even know what to say.”

“You look amazing.” You said in response, leaning forward to peck his cheeks, and you were certain his face darkened a few shades of pink. “Ready to go?”

“Always, m’lady.” He offered his arm, and you took it, curtseying playfully, ready to go to the car and have the best time of your high school life.

“Alright,” Kun said, and you rolled your eyes, preparing yourself for the embarrassing lecture he was likely to give next. “I’m not gonna say don’t drink, because there’s no way in hell I’m going to stop you, so just don’t black out. I don’t even want to think about you having sex, but use protection, and if they start some orgy shit, y/n you  better call me-”

“Kun.” You said through gritted teeth, and he raised his hands in protest.

“I’ve barely started!”

“Can you please just drive?” He sighed, snatching the car keys from the shelf by the door, gesturing for you to exit the front door, and the four of you rushed outside, running in your heels and dress shoes, huge grins on your faces as the spring wind from outside rushed through your hair and clothes. “Get in. I know you like it when I drive fast, so I will. Just for tonight.” He warned, and you slapped him on the back gratefully with a grin. The group jumped into Kun’s Range Rover, and he stomped on the gas, speeding down the street and off into the night sky, the street stretching down like it would drive into the horizon and up to the moon.

A door opened with a creak, black and newly polished shoes clicking across the street with every step as they approached your doorstep. One knock, then a second, then a third, with no answer. A click of the stranger’s tongue sounded across the empty street.

“Where the hell is she?”

⋰˚☆

Prom was everything you expected. Bass boosted music that shook your heart inside your ribs, crowds of dancing students dressed to the nines, and the mix of perfume and alcohol all through the room, the parent chaperones hardly caring about the not-so-subtle alcohol consumption happening amongst the students. You were so excited and terrified you could barely breathe, but the gentle hold of Xiaojun’s hand on yours kept you grounded, and you took a deep breath to steady your racing heart.

“You okay?” Your date asked, leaning in to reach a bit closer to your ear, and you smiled, pecking him on the cheek with an assuring nod.

“Just excited.” He rubbed thumb over the front of your hand. “I can’t believe high school is almost over already. I feel like it went by in a flash.”

“Me too. I really didn’t get enough time to spend at this school. But at least I got to spend my first and last year here with you.” He whispered in your ear, and you couldn’t help but feel a rush of warmth at his complimentative words. 

“I’m glad I got to spend it with you too. It’s just the beginning.” You pecked him on the cheek, and you saw his face warm up, a slight pink tinting his skin. Maybe the idea of spending the rest of your time together, maturing together, didn’t sound so bad. Just then, a flurrying presence and his very tired companion made their way over to you, the former wearing a loud embroidered blazer with nothing underneath and a pair of shorts that reminded you of a British schoolboy. “God, those two.” You tutted, but your smile betrayed you.

“What the fuck is up?!” Ten yelled over the music, and Sicheng shook his head disapprovingly. “You guys look ugly as hell.”

“Thanks, Ten.” Karina deadpanned, straightening out the skirt of her dress. 

“What’s with the hair?” You laughed, and he reached up to tousle the newly dyed locks on the top of his head, now closer to a buzz cut than ever, the roots still a light shade of turquoise and the tips a sulfurous color of vivid yellow.

“You like it? I got Yuta to bleach it last night.” He said, clearly proud and puffing out his chest. “I think yellow is my color.”

“You look stupid.” Hendery said, whacking the back of his head and upturning up his messy style, which Ten glared at him for.

“That’s what I said.” Sicheng sighed, pushing the older boy out of the way. “But he wanted to bleach it. Yuta is a horrible influence, so he was happy to do it for him.”

“Yuta is more fun than any of you guys.” Ten bit back, but you all knew he didn’t mean it. It was hard to get affection out of him sometimes.

“I’m surprised you came, Sicheng. I thought you’d want to stay home.” Xiaojun commented, and the others seemed to agree silently with nods.

“He’s my date tonight.” Ten said proudly.

“Only tonight.” Sicheng cursed at Ten with his eyes, and the senior finally shut his mouth with a roll of his eyes, gripping Sicheng’s wrist and pulling him onto the bustling dance floor, a look on the latter’s face like he wanted to throw him out the window. You were on the fourth floor, for perspective.

“C’mon losers! Let’s dance!” Ten yelled to the group, and with reluctance but a fond smile, the four of you followed, losing yourself in the crowd and intense beat of the music, your hand still firmly intertwined with your boyfriend’s.

After half an hour or so of dancing, you were fully tired out. The banquet hall your school had rented out was three times the size of the gymnasium that usually held all the school dances, but it could barely contain the population of your school. Finding it difficult to breathe in the crowds of teens in flowy dresses and sharp tuxedos, you pulled yourself to the side by the drinks, hoping to get a quick breather before you were undoubtedly pulled back to partake in a slow dance with Xiaojun.

Your heart had hardly beat this fast in your life. The idea that all your time in high school was ending in one mere night was exhilarating and terrifying at the same time, and the energy radiating from the hall was enough to take your breath away. You walked off to the side, where couples were sitting at table and chatting —or alternatively, eating each other’s faces where the chaperones couldn’t see— and took a few deep breaths to regain your composure. From the crowds of students came an angelic face, hand outstretched and with a very concerned expression.

“You okay, baby?” Xiaojun asked soothingly, reaching for your hand, his fingers running over your own. “You seem a little stressed. You wanna go home?” You shook your head adamantly, lifting his hand and pressing a chaste kiss on his knuckles.

“I’m fine, just a little headache.” You assured him. “Keep dancing. I’m going to get some water, I’ll be right back.” He watched you with worry in his sparkling eyes.

“Are you sure?” He asked in disquietude, and you nodded. He pulled you into a soft kiss, his arm circling around your waist gently, the other free hand running up the side of your face to cradle your cheek, his thumb rubbing against your jawline. If you felt a bit dizzy before, the kizz made your head spin, and in a nice way. “Promise you’ll let me know if you need anything? The minute you want to go home, we can.”

“I promise.” You said with a gentle peck on his cheek, and he couldn’t hold back a smile. It was almost as if Xiaojun made it his goal to make you wonder how you got so lucky, every single day. “Go back and dance.”

It took a few minutes of insistence before your overly concerned boyfriend would leave your side, retreating to the dance floor with his eyes over his shoulder, finally turning back to your friend group when he realized you weren’t looking at him. You, meanwhile, just wanted to get some water and maybe an Advil if you got lucky and found someone with meds on them.

“Y/n?” A voice called from behind you, and you froze up at the familiar sound. It was too early, it was too soon, and it was altogether the wrong night. You prayed you heard the person wrong, and it wasn’t exactly who you predicted, but when you turned, your fears were confirmed by the blond standing six feet behind you.

His hair was styled neatly, half brushed back and the other half lifted a bit more and draping onto his forehead, a red suit made of a shiny fabric adorning his body, along with a corsage of orchids in his hand.

He remembered your favorite flower.

But that wasn’t what stood out. Despite how ethereal he looked in the moonlight that peeked through the skylights of the hall, his face lit by a pool of silver light, all you could see were the growing tears in his eyes.

“Yangyang-” You started to begin, but he cut you off without saying a word, simply shaking his head as tears began to fall from his eyes, despite how much he wanted to hold them back. He didn’t want you to see him cry: he didn’t want you to see how much you meant to him and how much he didn’t want to lose you. Maybe the past few months had made him soft, but he didn’t want you to see him vulnerable anymore.

“Did you just forget about me or something?” He asked, and his voice cracked at the same time that your heart did, and you felt a pang of guilt and sadness go through your chest at the sight of his teary face. “I… I guess I was wrong to try and start over.” He tossed the corsage to the ground before you could muster the strength to respond, turning on his heel and storming out of the hall, pushing past the hoards of students in the way to get to the exit and barging through the main doors. It took you a moment to regain your composure, and your sense, and before you knew it, you had picked up the edges of your skirt and dashed outside, your friends watching with concern and confusion from the dance floor as you burst through the doors with your skirt flying around you like a thunderstorm.

You had to catch him before he got too far, and you didn’t know why.

“Yangyang!” You screamed after him. He was still in your sight, storming off but only a few paces ahead of you. He was walking fast, but not fast enough, and maybe something in him was hoping if he walked slow enough, you’d be able to catch up with him and throw some excuse at him, telling him how you needed him back and you were sorry. But you didn’t get the chance, your red shoes tripped you up, the blade-thin heels tilting to the side, one snapping off as you dropped to the ground, tripping over your own feet and slamming into the concrete, the gravel scratching up your knees and surely your dress as well.

You groaned, getting to your knees and pushing your face off the concrete, hairs flying out of your neat do and matting to your forehead. You held back your tears, concentrated on catching up to the boy currently attempting to escape you. Brushing off your clothes, you winced when the time came to sit up, but you were startled by a pair of arms hooking around your waist and pulling you to your feet. Yangyang stared at you for a moment after helping you up, before breaking eye contact and pushing you away roughly with a stream of curses.

“I can’t believe this.” He muttered angrily. “I want to help you. I want to be with you, and I don’t want you to be alone, even after what you did to me. Why? Why do you do this to me?” He yelled, grasping your shoulders in his hands and shaking you. “Can’t you just leave me the fuck alone?! Can’t you get out of my head and out of my life?!” Tears streamed freely down your face as he jolted you aggressively, a whimper coming from between your lips. “I won’t let you run back to me, you know? When he breaks your heart! And he will, because he doesn’t know you like I do! Why wasn’t I enough for you? Did you just think you could move on without me?!” He let out a huff, before letting you go and you stumbled a few steps backward, fearful he might try to get ahold of you if you said anything in response. He waited silently, not breaking eye contact this time, and you shied away from his gaze shamefully. “Do you have anything to say?”

“I was going to tell you…” You mumbled, wiping the tears from your eyes, and he let out a scoff, anger and disbelief mixed in his tone.

“I never should’ve gotten close to you.” He stormed away, and this time, you didn’t have the strength to chase after him

And that's how your love story with Yangyang was over before it started.

⋰˚☆

The worst part was that he was right all along.

Five months after prom, Xiaojun broke up with you. It was nothing personal, he simply needed to focus on his career and his college was almost on the other side of Gyeonggi-do. He didn’t want to be that far away from you, especially when you were the longest relationship he had ever been in. He decided in the end it would be best for him to break up with you before either of you could hurt each other. It was selfish, but sometimes you wished he had asked what was best for you before he decided.

It didn’t matter. He always bought the wrong brands of body wash, never remembered your coffee order, and got roses for your anniversary instead of orchids like you kept hinting. He tried his hardest, but he didn’t know you. Just like Yangyang said.

He still texts you every day without fail. He always told you he never wanted to drift away from you. Once a month, you tried to meet up for coffee and a quick chat, and you found that after a few months, he ended up remembering your coffee order after all.

It took you a long time to get over him. Xiaojun was your first love, your first real one anyway, and every time you thought about his face, you got a sick nostalgic feeling in your stomach, like listening to a song with good memories but missing the times you used to listen to it freely. He was a song you wouldn’t forget, but a part of you wanted to. It took Kun months to get you to go out with friends for the first time, and after two years, you still remembered his face every time you entered the ice cream parlor on the corner of your street, or when you spotted a red suit in the display window at a boutique, or when you started tutoring your college classmates.

A few years passed, and you finally began to see him as a friend instead of an ex lover. Karina told you that was a good thing, but a part of you missed the comfort of regret and sadness. But eventually, your heart no longer ached when a notification popped up on your screen with his name across the bubble, or when he greeted you with a smile and an iced americano in his hand ready to catch up on each other’s lives.

“The peaches are great this season.” The old woman at the weighing station assured you as she handed you back your bag of produce, weighed and ready to purchase. You nodded politely, bowing shallowly before tucking the fruits into your basket and moving on to the bakery section of the grocery store.

A wide selection of food greeted you upon your arrival. Flaky pastries, honeyed confections and mousse covered cakes with strawberries and chunks of chocolate. You grabbed a green tea bolo from the back of the rack, remembering how much Xiaojun liked them and hoping it would still be good by the time you saw him later in the week. Out of the corner of your eye, hidden in the back and concealed behind all the delectable treats was a stack of mooncakes, small and golden brown with a pattern stamped onto the top. A flood of memories entered your mind, and your hand reached for one, when someone’s arm slammed into you from the side, seemingly trying to reach across you.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” they apologized, but froze when they caught sight of your face. You were equally shocked, arm still frozen in place and outstretched over the racks of pastries, your limb started to tremble from the tension. “Y/n?”

“Yangyang?” You asked in wonder, finally resting your arm at one side and tucking your basket behind your back, suddenly a bit embarrassed of the simple outfit you had worn, not thinking you needed anything more than pajama pants and a cropped tee to run a quick errand. “Hendery told me you went back to Germany.”

“I did.” Yangyang said. He looked just as he did back in high school, his hair still the same bleached dusty blond, this time a few shades closer to platinum. His style still hadn’t changed. He was wearing the same old hoodie he had back in 12th grade, gray with fading text, a flannel on top and headphones dangling from around his neck. You could faintly hear the bass coming from them as he stared you down. “I decided I wanted to come back. Thought I might see some old friends.” The comment felt oddly aimed at you, and you nodded with your jaw set and tense. “What are you doing here?”

“I live here.”

“With your family?” You shook your head, reaching for a mooncake and dropping it into your basket. You had figured he would have left the conversation by now.

“I moved out. Thought college life might be better if I didn’t live with my parents. I’m roommates with Sicheng now.”

“Karina?”

“She’s in Seoul studying for her masters.” You said, looking down. 

“Uh, how are the others anyway?”

“Hendery’s studying mechanical engineering in Seoul. Ten went to a liberal arts school in Gangwon, and Sicheng goes to my college. We try to meet up every once in a while, but they’re pretty busy. Other than Sicheng, I don’t get to see them very often.”

“Oh.” He sounded rather disappointed, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, not sure of what to say to soothe you, and if you needed soothing or not. “Well, let them know I send my regards when you see them again. It’s been a long time since I saw them last.” You nodded.

“I’ll tell them.”

 There was an elephant in the room that neither of you necessarily wanted to address, but you could tell the blond boy before you clearly wanted an answer. He cleared his throat, hand over his mouth to muffle the sound.

“Are you and Xiaojun-”

“We broke up.” You said quickly, and he nodded awkwardly. Oddly enough, he didn’t seem smug, or angry. He just seemed a bit uncomfortable, even a little bit relieved to hear you were no longer seeing your highschool sweetheart. Maybe because he was the other one.

“It’s alright. I’m not seeing anyone either. College is easier without relationships.” He said gracelessly, and you found he was still as bad at comforting as he was years ago, and the thought made you chuckle.

“I suppose so.” You said, and he turned away, dropping a few mooncakes into his pocket before tapping his foot against the tiled floor.

“Uhm, goodbye then.” He bowed his head slightly, before jetting off to the cashier, dropping his things onto the conveyor belt, eyes lingering on you to see if you would follow. With a sigh, you moved on to the condiment section of the store, plugging in a pair of headphones and tucking your free hand into your pocket. Who knows, maybe you’d see him another day, walking to campus, getting ice cream with friends, or grocery shopping like he was today, but you’d let fate decide that for you.

You were tired of chasing after him. Plus, you were out of soy sauce.

⋰˚☆

This afternoon was beyond dreary. The sky was bland, almost white or whatever other colour it was. You could not bear to look up at the scorching sun. The streets were nearly empty. People were either inside their homes, being all comfortable and escaping the heat, doing whatever pleased them. The other ones were like you, who had by now seen all that Netflix had to offer and still stupidly opted to go out.

You came to the nearby café to delight yourself with some brunch. It turns out that there were a lot more idiots out there, including you, because the place was nearly filled. The din of customers' conversations, the sizzling sounds from the kitchen, and the Rock and Roll music playing in the background. Everything was going swimmingly, just the way you intended it to.

You continued looking for a place to sit upon lifting your meal tray from the counter. On regular days, you had a reserved spot, which was an advantage of being a regular visitor. You didn't want to bother the middle-aged mother with her three petulant children to spare you your seat today.

Thank heavens, you were able to take the last available spot before anyone else. Someone seemed to be seated at your now-shared table, but you had no choice. It wasn't necessary to talk to strangers anyway, your sole focus was on your food.

Random thoughts continued to take over your mind in the meantime. You couldn't restrain yourself from overthinking. Your new job, the house party you attended last weekend, the global population growth rate, and your best friend's goldfish, which her cat devoured. You contemplated everything and anything.

"Y/N" You hear your name being called in a much more familiar voice. Fuck, why did he have to be here? You mentally cursed yourself for coming out today, let alone taking up this spot.

You looked up and elevated your sight to the man. Still clad in black from head to toe despite the scorching weather. His hair was now studded with golden highlights, which was a novel look for him. He stood there with his phone in his hands. You had no option but to confront him.

It was Yangyang.

He had been your on-and-off lover for about three years now. No, you were not a celebrity couple, but complicated relationships were a phenomenon that did not discriminate between the two halves. There were times when you cherished him like Romeo cherished Juliet, and perhaps other times when you despised him like a war enemy.

You drew your gaze away from him and back to your meal. Walking away right now would be a sign of weakness. You weren't weak, and even if you were, you'd despise it if it came through. This was a question about your ego, which was never being compromised with. So what if you had blocked him from all your social medias? So what if you  never picked up his calls? So what if you both had been dead to each other since the last four months?

Yangyang too, probably thought the same as he took the chair right in front of you. He waited for a minute or so for you to utter some words, or at the least, take a look at him, but gave up soon.

"This steak is quite bitter. Over time, their flavour has deteriorated." As he fed himself, he made a random remark.

"Yeah, I guess so." You gave him the dullest response ever.

Silence reigned once more as you reflected on your last breakup with Yangyang.

-

"I don’t really care but I am moving out, my job and my career are way more important than a man. Do you think I am some Damsel in Distress? I can take care of myself!" You raged at him. This was one of the many reasons for breaking up with him. Of course, you had to let your ego win at all costs.

-

"You see that guy, we attended the same school. People change, I think he owns that silver car. At school he was never the type to-"

"When was the last time we had a real conversation?" You questioned him, cutting through his useless words. Maybe this could be another contributing factor to a relationship that kept on failing over and over again. None of you were ready to listen, and the things you talked about did not make much sense either. The most serious thing you and he ever talked about was probably planning a vacation for Christmas.

He stopped with his random comments, not even eating anymore. His eyes were fixed on the rusted wooden table, suggesting it was the stillness before a storm. He had something to say.

"Being in love with you is scary… not that you’re scary, of course, but that I’d fuck this thing up." He expressed.

"We have fucked this thing up more than quite often." You defended yourself. You were not going to buy his opinion that easily.

This was certainly not the first time you both had a conversation like this, you both were aware of how things would take a turn.

"Yes I know we have fucked more than quite often." Yangyang implied, knowing exactly what he was saying.

Your face was still emotionless, as you went down the memory lane again. Maybe you missed him. Maybe it was not a break up but just a prolonged period of fighting. Maybe it was you and not him.

It was hard to let go of someone, no matter how toxic they could get at times.

"Listen, Yangyang, I guess I am sorry." This was your way of admitting your wrong doings.

The boy, on the other hand, was very well aware of this, as he still continued to chew on the steak. "That’s alright." He said.

"We, anyway, have always been a couple, haven’t we?" You try and win his attention, and heart back. Trying the best that you knew of.

"If this is your way of flirting, you’re doing a terrible job at it." Yangyang gave his trademark wide smile.

"Why would I flirt with you?" You revert back immediately.

"Okay then unblock me, at least." He suggested. You gave him the ‘I’m so done with you expression’ as you picked up your phone, unblocking him.

"Yangyang, we are still in love right?" You questioned fearfully, what if it was one sided? What if it doesn’t end well again this time?

"We never fell out of love." He reassured.

Yangyang was your fate. You were destined to stick with him. Yes, your relationship was no less than a rollercoaster, but this time, you were confident that in the end, you both would land safe, together.

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You stepped out of the public bus as you thanked the driver for dropping you off at school, just like any other day. This pleasant morning twinned itself with your pleasant mood. The semester was about to end soon, leaving you excited and restless. You took firm yet happy steps to the school building. The early morning breeze swept past your long glossy hair. The chirping of birds was stirred up by the chit-chat of the students. "Today is going to be a happy day!" You cheered yourself up as you continued your little commute.

Your happiness was short-lived and your face immediately held up an irritated emotion as you rolled your eyes.

"Hi! Y/N! Good Morning!" Your classmate greeted you with his cheeky smile, getting out of his flashy, expensive black Mercedes that his dad got him for his birthday last year. His driver was probably lacking more brains than him, for he parked his car right in your way.

You reverted with a cold expression as you tried to regain the momentum. Less than a minute later, you were in your class. You were quick to mingle with the rest of your friends and catch up on the uninteresting school gossip. The class huffled and shuffled quickly back to their seats, hinting that your homeroom teacher was in.

SHIT! THIS COULD NOT BE REAL!

"The final exams are approaching, you all are aware, but still some of us need extra help and effort. Liu Yangyang, you’ve got to somehow pass the grade at least. Starting today, reach out to Y/N in case you need academic help." That were his exact words.

What appeared to be a doze of scolding to Yangyang that was quite enjoyable to witness has now turned tragic for you. Yangyang already ruined your morning and now this was more to add to your exasperated mood. God! He was annoying!

The Maths class ended without you realizing the time. You were no math geek, but it was arguably interesting to get tangled up in the brain exercises. The pen was still being held in your hands even after all the chaos, a rather common scenario during recess time.

Yangyang did not miss a minute and dragged his feet to your seat, placing himself on your table. "So you know, I need help". He started the conversation. His family was sure rich enough to get him tutored privately, but still here he was. Just as you parted your lips to decline this request of his, he came up with another point. "Mr. Choi ordered it to be done, plus, you are the Class President, Y’N." He pleaded with no look of appeal whatsoever on his face.

"Tskk, okay, now get fucking off my seat!" You yanked his hand away.

It’s not like you hated him or anything, but just that he appeared to be that very young, rich, and spoiled brat who could not bother to lift up a spoon by himself. Maybe you were just jealous that he had it easier.

-

"No! Can’t you get this in your stupid brain! You’re supposed to shift the minus sixteen to the right side of the equation and then solve for the x." You were basically yelling at him this time as you explained. This was the seventh time you were repeating the exact same problem.

"Solve for the ex? huh? That’s going to be hard for me Y/N, I’ve had unsolved issues with some of my exes, to be honest". Yangyang teased as he spun the pencil in his hands. He wore his glasses just for today, ditching his contacts. With that huge cream-coloured hoodie, he looked like the nerd he never was.

"I’ve had like four girls in the past, all of whom are now an ‘x’ to me." He carelessly added more to this unwanted piece of conversation. Hearing this broke your heart. Yeah, he sure was all rich and fun and relationships probably did not matter to him. His money could always get him anyone he wanted, anytime, but this broke your heart. Never in your life had you been more judgmental.

Your face grew more agitated as he kept on ceaselessly talking and talking about the stuff you did not want to hear about—his past love affairs. He was such an idiot for this. "Silence, you uneducated peanut!" You rebuked. His mouth was left hanging open at the view of this side of yours. You were now evidently angry, and jealous.

"That’s disgusting. You’re lucky you’re cute." The boy replied back. "Did he just say I am cute?" You thought to yourself, and it created some new sort of sensation in your stomach. You were sure you now had a one sided love-hate with him.

"The variable detaches with the remaining eight on the left side. And then these brackets, oh, there you go, x is three." Yangyang talked to himself as he finally succeeded in solving the algebra. He looked at you, who were still lost somewhere in your trail of thoughts.

"I know you have a crush on me, Y/N." He stated out of nowhere, accompanied by a subtle curve of the lips, that seemed sincere to you for the first time ever.

You smirked back at him, no, you weren’t buying it that easily. You stood up as the bell rang, indicating it was the time for you both to leave.

"God bless the one that has a crush on you!" You made your remark and turned your back.

"Is there going to be any problem with that? Yangyang’s words made you pause. You turned back again, now facing him with a direct eye contact. Thinking and reenacting the best hard-to-get girl you ever saw in the movies, hands on the waist with perfect posture.

"Yes, a problem of love!"

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"It won't be that bad, doll. It's a genius plan if you ask me" Jaemim chirped in on the conversation finally after looking back and forth between you, Donghyuck and Yangyang caught up in a meaningless fight. "I don't see how any of this is genius, Jaem. If this plan's anything, it's stupid." You pull out your phone after making your way all the way to the headboard of Jaemin's bed. "How about we try out one of these creepy pasta games?" Yuta finally spoke up. Jaemin's brother, an early graduate, senior and of course a dear friend of yours. Yuta, despite the age difference between your classmates and you, had little to no trouble blending in with the tiny group of yours. Probably the only one who didn't behave like a toddler and the most sane one according to you. Yuta's been an amazing planner since junior year where you first met Jaemin, Yangyang and Donghyuck who then proceeded to introduce you to their senior friend group that consists of Yuta, Johnny, Doyoung; Donghyuck's cousin and Ten. You guys had a friendship the entire campus was envious of. But two year after you getting into the university, the seniors had to graduate. But that didn't stop all your bonds from staying as strong as ever. Not even after Ten got his posting in a town a little far away from the one you guys lived in. The distance didn't change anything between you guys and you were as close as you could ever get. 

"Creepypasta?" Donghyuck inquired, looking straight at the guy who aimlessly scrolled down the screen of his device as Yuta didn't even bother looking up while passing the confused boy a nod. Sitting up cross legged from his previous side sitting posture, Yuta showed his phone screen to Donghyuck, who immediately got surrounded by the other two while you stare at the oldest in the room, slightly intrigued by the idea. "Creepypasta's like these horror-related legends that have been copied and pasted around the Internet by people who're too bored for their own sake." you explain as Haechan took the phone out of Yuta's hand who agreed to your explanation. "I read some sick games that I kinda wanna try out and see for myself," he said, looking at you with expectations and then the rest who seemed too immersed in surfing the website. 

"Yuta, you of all people should know better than to think all these made up crap's real" you say nonchalantly. 

Yuta's a huge skeptic, and so were you. Which is why you got along really well despite the mentioned age gap. The night gatherings back at the boy's dormitory or the girls (in this case, girl, yours) would always end up in narration of on spot made up stories of all genre, mostly horror because apparently according to Jaemin 'Rom-com's overhyped, sci-fi won't be fun when you narrate it out loud, mystery can easily turn boring, comedy, meh i guess, but a good horror story narrated properly, -yes, like you, Haechan- while adding jumpscares here and there could actually result in y'all being too scared to use the bathroom on your own'. And yeah, you'd startle here and there but the stories weren't believable enough for you to actually be scared. On the other hand, Haechan and Jaemin were scaredy cats. Literal toddler's who're so gullible, you could literally tell them there was an alien invasion news flash two minutes ago and they'd be hiding under their bed. And then there's Yangyang, he just doesn't care. He goes along with the plans solely for the fun of it and for the other's' (Haechan and Jaemin) reaction. "That's the point. I don't" he shuffled around to shift closer to you,

 "Which is exactly why i want to try them out" 

Maybe it's the feline that crossed over his body, maybe it was the fact that his spirit just wasn't ready to leave the human realm yet. Maybe it's the mourning of his family or maybe it's him himself knowing full too well his potential was truly wasted due to the fast departure. Whatever it was, his spirit was definitely made restless. 

The world is a cruel place where harsh actions are always sugar coated by honey like words. It's how he knew the doings of his people were wrong that made him disappointed. The practices of the people, his people, were stupid, meaningless and only harmful to the human kind. They fend off the satisfaction of their almighty even if that means that there needs to be sacrification of their loved ones, their nemesis, or them themselves. And it was his ancestors fault for starting all these practices. 

Passed down generations from generations was the curse put on the first of their bloodline by the princess he'd defied to go out and be ruthless by disregarding his duties as a husband, a father, a member of the royal courts and as a human being.

Lee Dong Wook. The root of all evil, the main reason the males of the family line faced the same wrath as him, all cursing at him but one namely enjoying his role. The pagans, dating back to the roman times era had a very, let's say, interesting method of punishing. The said lords they'd worship, the people following the religions had a strong belief that nature is sacred and that the natural cycles of birth, growth and death observed in the world around us carry profoundly spiritual meanings. Gods and goddesses of life, or say, death or anything else that exists beyond life and death, they believed in all. 

The doings of his ancestors started off innocent. Sacrifices to the lords of goodness and tranquility, a peaceful life by the towns and outskirts, forgiveness for wrong doings and of course, happiness. It's how any religious rituals would go about and all were happy until the said betrayer of the group came in with that curse of his. 'The doings of his shall be repented for all the men following shall be the one paying it,' 

At first glance when the man returned back to his royals, there were little to no suspicions of a curse being casted on him. He seemed normal to his family, his people except for the occasional forcing people to do something they despised. And it wasn't just the men of the family instead, it was all. But mostly the men, unless the same sin were to be committed by the females. Obscure behaviors have been asked to follow starting exactly at midnight to the witch's hour be it hurting your loved one, your enemy, doing sinful things, allowing self to get manipulated and mostly, shortening their own life time in the human realm. It was all unexplainable. Why was he asking people to do things like this but most of all, why are they even listening to him? 

It wasn't until they discovered that Dong Wook, for one, was never the one who returned home. On a second note, he, 'Dong Wook' mainly only targeted the men whose doings were similar to his that was fueled by the same sin that had him going. Which only remained undiscovered. The curse was unbeknownst to all still, Dong Wook himself remained undiscovered. Or proposed by the elders of the community, his body remained undiscovered while his spirit roamed restless among the people. 

The pagan romanticists are, in most cases, ignorant of the “paganism” they praise—the redeemed paganism of Christianity depicted in the transfigured water of the True Well of Life. Wrestling with the Greek gods, however, leads us to see the hyper-anthropomorphization of the gods with one intention in mind—justification of sexual lusts and displays of power over the weak.

The oldest written account of the Greek deities is from Hesiod. His Theogony, literally “birth of the gods,” charts out the genealogies of the major and minor deities in two branches. The first set of gods come into existence without sex. The second set of gods come into existence with sex; often very graphic and violent sex and they continue to have violent sex after their birth. 

As Hesiod continues to describe the birth and death of the gods and great monsters of antiquity, the chaining of Prometheus to his eternal torment is described. So too is Hades’ rape of Persephone. Battle is depicted left and right, and “a terrible din arose from their dreadful wrath, and the work of power was revealed”. Lust, sex, and war reign supreme in Hesiod’s telling of the birth of the gods. Moreover, it is from this brutality and carnality that Hesiod gives them praise—only those with enough cunning and ambition are worthy of having the praise of the muses.

That the gods birthed through sexual lust are themselves lustful was not missed by Christians of the pagan community. Though St. Augustine received the Romanized version of the Greek myths, he goes to great lengths and laborious pains—using the pagans’ own prophecies —to highlight the moral depravity of the gods in Confessions and City of God.

His sin, after all the years, was lust and the want to dominate. 

'Lust though pleasurable, innocent and vice, thee shall stay loyal to thy partner regardless of wants. To betray thy partner is to deceive thy people and hence the kingdom. Thou shall pay for thy soul shall remain wandering, driven by the desires but, shall not be able to feel the human love thou took for a grain of salt. And all who shall follow thy steps shall face the same wrath.'

Oh, how lust was a dangerous feeling. 

29/10 continued. 11:28PM

It's how you all circled around in the living room like any other day that was comical to you. Instead of reading out your own made up story, it so happened to be the Creepypastas Yuta screenshotted for what he wanted to try out and see for himself. It wasn't even his idea to read them out. Haechan and Jaemin's 'too curious for their own sake' selves were the ones who wanted to read it out loud. "How about we sit in the order of who's gonna read out what and when?" Yangyang suggested, standing up from his seat. "Yuta read out the topics and we'll pick randomly." 

"No fun! Hold up," Haechan did some pretty exaggerated hand actions before getting up and heading to his room, well, Jaemin's room to do who knows what. "Okay? I'll get the candles!" Yangyang said, him getting out of his seat too, "And I'll go get the bible, jesus christ" and Jaemin was out of his seat too. You look at Jaemin in a funny manner, as though questioning him with your eyes if he's actually going to get a bible or not, "What? I don't want to die young, I'm too hot for that" he said, before following Haechan's steps to his bedroom, "Yikes, you aren't going to die dude" 

"Okayy, I'm back, make way bitches" Haechan dictated to which he earned a few groans and a smack on the ankle from Yuta, "Jaemin! I can't find the candles!" "It's beside the Reese's cups! Second rack inside of the refrigerator!" Jaemin says while walking back up to your tiny circle with an empyre comic in his hand and a cross pendant dangling off of his neck, "That's a bible?" you question. "Shush, do not question the power of avengers and fantastic four." Jaemin replies, holding the comic up close to his chest. You all collectively dismiss it with a concerned look directed towards the male, "Are we not going to question the fact that Jaemin keeps his candles inside the fridge?" 

"So here's what we're going to do, I've got these tiny papers which have numbers from 1 to 5,because we're five people and I've folded the paper into chits, once i toss it, we pick random sheets and the number you get is when your turn to read is, any objections?" Haechan explained, "Even if you have any, keep it to yourself because I don't care" he bites in again while juggling the folded sheets in a closed palm while the other supports his body by it being planted behind him. "Okay I'm back with the candles" Yangyang finally joins in on the circle, completing it, "You took that long to find one candle?" Yuta asks, "No i was eating the reese's cups" he replied, wiping his hand on your jean clad thighs earning him a loud whine of 'Eww that's disgusting man' and a little too far from soft smacks on his shoulder, "You piece of sh-" Jaemin starts, "Okay all, Focus!" Haechan cuts him off, ready to throw the bits onto the space between the five of you in front of the now lit candle (Thank you, Yuta), and so he tossed it a little high up from the ground, letting the paper fall of his palms and onto the floor while being cautious of not throwing it anywhere near the flame. 

"Now let's arrange ourselves according to the numbers, who's number one?" Haechan asks, Yuta raises his hands while pointing at where he's sitting, "I'm not getting up, y'all arrange yourself so that the person going second is to my right and the last person would be to my left", you all look at him nonchalantly, "What?" with a shake of your head, you proceed calling out numbers, "Number two?" Haechan shoves Yangyang back to take his place beside Yuta, "bitch." Yangyang seats himself beside Haechan, followed by Jaemin and lastly, you. 

"First, Yuta!" Jaemin slurs the elders name, receiving a death glare from his cousin. Nevertheless, Yuta cleared up his throat and switched his attention to his phone screen, "The first urban legend is from Japan, ironically." He states as a matter of fact, "It's called Aka Manto."

"Aka manto is an urban legend related to toilets—particularly those in elementary schools.-"

"Is that why you take a relatively long time inside of the bathroom? Are you, you know? Tickling pickles with Aka Mant-ow! Sorry!" Yangyang was wasted as he was tackled onto the floor by Yuta, while the rest of you cracked up, "Now let's get a little serious, come onnn!" Haechan whines. 

"This phenomenon is known all over Japan, with countless variations on the same theme. It usually takes place in a specific stall in a specific bathroom in the school. Usually it is an older or seldom used bathroom, often in a stall with an older style squat toilet.  Often the fourth stall is the cursed one, as the number four is associated with death." "I'm so glad our university has only two stalls," Jaemin chimes in, suddenly grasping the cross pendant. 

"Most stories follow this general pattern: while at school late in the evening, a student suddenly finds him or herself in desperate need of a toilet. The closest restroom available is one that is normally avoided by the students; it is older and less well-kept, separated from the rest of the school, and is rumored to be haunted. But with no time to search for a different restroom, the student enters. He or she does their business, and when they have finished, they reach for the toilet paper only to find that there is none. Then they hear a strange voice" Yuta looks up from the phone screen, "“Do you want red paper? Or blue paper?”" 

"None bitch, give me the classic white,"

With a roll of his eyes, Yuta continues, "If the student answers, Red paper, moments later, they're stabbed and sliced up violently that blood seeps out of them, painting the walls of the stall red and it soaks up into their body, making them appear red", "And if the student responds blue paper, then their blood is going to be sucked up dry, leaving them dead and blue-faced on the floor."

"But! If you try to outsmart Aka Manto, by replying to question with, i don't know, "Yellow paper" then too, dead is inevitable, you will be shoved onto the floor where the spirit is said hold your head down in the dirty toilet water until you drown and well, die" Yuta ends with a shrug of his shoulder, "Seems pretty bullshit to me" and you agree alongside, though, it could be a little creepy if the existing legend did turn out to be true. "Okay next!"

Yuta leans back a little more, pressing onto your side which you took as an invitation to lean on his shoulder. When you did so, all Yuta did was beam at you and wrap his arms around you to keep you close after handing the phone over to Haechan, "If you want me to start reading you have to give it up for me. Give me the grand welcome that i deserve" the lad said in a childish voice which again only earned him a few smacks and half hearted applauds. "So this one is apparently called, the one man hide and seek" though all narrations were being taken on a lighter note, the mood set in the room gave you enough space to picture the stories, added to that came the factor that Donghyuck knows exactly how to narrate what. 

"The "One-Man Hide and Seek", also known as the "One-Man Tag," is a ritual for contacting the dead. The spirits, which are wandering restless on the Earth, are always looking for bodies to possess. In this ritual, you will summon such a spirit, by offering it a doll instead of a human body." He lowers his voice while focusing solely on the screen.

"The warnings say that if you have any psychic abilities, you may feel unwell or be prone to accidents during the ritual." He raises his eyebrows, looking at all four of you in a curious manner. The things you need for this game seems lowkey sketch"

"One stuffed doll. It must have limbs, Rice, enough to stuff the doll full. One needle, and one crimson thread. One pair of nail clippers. One sharp-edged tool, such as a knife, glass shard, or scissors. One cup of salt water. Natural salt would be best. A bathroom, with a bathtub and some form of counter. A hiding place, preferably a room purified by incense and ofuda. There must be a TV in there." Haechan's face contorts with each requirement for the game. Letting out a defeated sigh, he hands the phone over to Yangyang, "Of all the stories i could've narrated, i got chosen for this and for what? Just to contact stupid poltergeists. Just play a ouija board and go" 

Giving Haechan a sympathetic pat on the back, he takes the device. Looking through the screen he cracks up a smile, "Alright, listen up closely. This is an Urban legend classic"

"The Slender Man-" a bunch of 'aahhs' of realization resonate through the room

"-is a supernatural creature that is described as appearing as a normal human being but he is described as being 8 feet tall and he has vectors or extra appendages that are described to be as sharp as swords. The creature is known to stalk humans and cause many disappearances. He is described as a shadow creature that has a missing face. The creature fits into many mythologies in legends from nations such as germany and celts which brings up the possibility that he could be real." Yangyang pauses to add in a little more life to his reading while all of your paid full concentration to him

"A man named victor Surge found this legend and made his own version of it which he called slender man. The slender man is not exactly evil according to mythology but victor Surge’s version shows him as an evil creature that stalks humans to kill. In mythology he was actually trying to save you from a painful death by taking you to the underworld early." he ends, placing the phone down in front of him, screen down. "Kills you to save you from a death and collectively shortens your lifespan? Seems legit to me" Jaemin chimes in while the rest of you chuckle whereas Haechan pouted at the device in front of his friend, "I should've gotten that story" 

"My turn!" 

"So, ahem-" Once the focus is all on him,Jaemin  looks down onto the device containing his part of narration. "- This is an urban legend about a girl named Daruma who was a young Japanese woman that died in the bathroom, which upon entering to take a bath, it stumbled and her forehead ended up against the edge of the tube, destroying it the brain, at the same time that her eye embedded in the tube , leaving it in consequence, one-eyed key and later , dead by bleed out."  "Oh god ouch" You hiss as though your forehead was the one that hit the edge, " Her appearance as described is apparently; black hair that is entangled, her clothes rotting and made shreds. She only has one eye. Her left eye is completely open and injected with blood." "That's gruesome," Yangyang adds, earning a nod from Jaemin who's eyes were still fixated on the screen. "And apparently there's a ritual that you can follow to summon her into your house for twenty four hours straight" At the silence, he continues. "I'll shorten it, so you have to begin it right before your bedtime, shed all your clothing and enter your bathroom, turn off all the lights and fill in your bathtub, climb into it while being seated facing faucet, close your eyes and start washing your hair while chanting "Daruma-san fell down" and keep chanting that until you're done washing your hair, and yeah don't open your eyes."

"If you did it right then you'll get this image of a japanese who'll slip and fall in front of you. Even if you hear a noise behind you, do not open your eyes, no matter what it takes, Ask out loud, 'why did you fall in the bathtub' and let that hang in the air. With your eyes still closed, get up and out of the tub and be careful not to slip and do not drain the tub. Go to your room, don't turn the lights on, shut the bathroom door closed and sleep. Wake up the next day and carry on with your day and you'll apparently feel her presence alongside you all day. She'll constantly try getting close to you, when she does, scream 'Tomare!',"

"That means stop," Yuta adds to which you all hum in understanding.

"To end the game, capture her gaze from over your shoulder and say 'Kitta' which means 'I cut you loose' while swinging your arm in a chopping motion. If you followed the procedures then you'll be rewarded but if not then, run. That's all it says here" He stops, looking a little shaken at how he created an image of it all in his mind. "They didn't say how to get rid of her if you fail following the procedure?" you ask

"No." Jaemin shrugs it off

"Alright boys, my turn"

30th October, Friday, 10:53PM

It's probably how you read out your part of story telling, or it was how he felt the game was a little too unrealistic that had Yuta hooked onto the urban legend. 

Yuta found himself at his dorm doing a little more research on the midnight ritual. A backpack already consisting of all the elements required for the game, 'could it really be played just by one person?'. Whatever it was, he really wanted to do the game. He wanted someone to accompany him, of course. But knowing his friend group, not many would be ready to play it alongside. Doyoung was probably busy preparing his resumes for his job interviews. Johnny's all the way back in Chicago for a little family time. Ten was a little too far from your town so he'd feel bad calling him all the way over just to perform a probably demonic ritual. Donghyuck and Jaemin are out of the question, they'd obviously say no. Yangyang has a company party to attend as the heir. And you had to study for your test on Monday so he didn't really feel like disturbing you though, he did inform you that he was going out to have some fun and that you could join him anytime. Closing his laptop with a sigh, he gets up and walks over to where his bag was sprawled across the floor, picks it up and makes his way out of the studio apartment like dormitory after grabbing his car keys. 

Not like he believed it was real, it's incase if the legend turns out to be even the slightest of reality, he wasn't going to get his dormitory haunted, instead opting to perform it at the house he grew up in, his childhood house. That was left abandoned ever since they moved out months before his younger brother was born after his father had an episode still unknown to him inside the place. It was convenient enough to perform the ritual in and no one lives there anymore, and it was just a few minutes from where his house was anyways. 

Reaching the place and swinging the backpack over his shoulder, he makes his way into the surprisingly still intact house. Not much time to waste, looking around, Yuta slowly made his way up the wooden stairs, the wood creaking with each step he took to prove the existence of this house dated long back. The guest room shut lock from lack of human souls even when they used to live there. The paintings still hung off of a single screw, nostalgia hitting him straight as he recalled the one time he was playing catch with a neighbor's kid and ended up breaking the glass frame. The wallpaper's adhesive seemingly had gotten weaker from how they had started coming out from nooks and crannies of the walls. The place, without doubt, looked a little creepy but nonetheless felt homely. 

Switching on all switches from the main controller that was in the control room right by the end of the hallway, the entire darkness was replaced with light as the bulbs shockingly still seemed to function. The warm white colour of the lights took Yuta all the way back to his growing up years, missing all the fun he'd had there and all the memories he'd created. He, though grew up mostly by himself from how busy his parents were on the weekdays and sometimes the weekends, missed them more now that they live far off in Japan with his mother's family. Especially now that he was in the place they spent the most time together in. Shaking his head, he had no trouble navigating his way to his childhood room. Where he set the bag down.

He reached out to his back pocket to get out his phone, switching it on as the screen illuminated, 11:28PM, the screen read. To kill the time, Yuta set up all the items required in place to proceed the ritual smoothly. He pulled his laptop out of the backpack once he was all set to maybe watch something on the internet. It being other peoples attempt at the ritual he was about to perform.

11:55PM.

Yuta inhaled, having only a few more minutes until he had to proceed. He recalled your words,

"Alright boys, my turn" You snatch the phone out of Jaemin's hand who seemed really immersed in finding out more about the legend he just read out about, earning a pout from him. "I was reading" he let out in a whiny tone immediately going stoic after receiving a 'do i care' look from your end. "Okay, so the story I'm going to read out is called the midnight man, or the midnight game" You scroll back and forth through the pages the oldest of the group screenshotted. "From what he's gathered, there's not much backstory, but apparently it's a ritual or mostly a punishment that the pagan's use to punish the betrayer of the group who failed to stay loyal to their lords or the group. One of the people of the religion will summon the midnight man to an abandoned house where they lock up the said betrayer who'll then be put through god knows what by the midnight stranger," You stop to look up from the screen to look at each of your friends before letting out a sigh. 

"My take on this though is that it's highly impossible since the rules here state that once you start the ritual you aren't allowed the leave the place until the game is completely done unless you want the midnight man to follow you around for as long as you live, so unless the midnight man actually favored the pagans, there's no way they could punish the betrayer without one of the loyal ones passing away along with the one being punished" you state, "But what if, it's the midnight man that they preach? You know, like, they could be praying the midnight man" Haechan adds in a point which seemed to make sense, "That's possible too" 

"Why would someone preach an evil entity? That's so sketch" Jaemin asks perplexed. "They did a lot of sketchy things back in the days, Jaem. I wouldn't question it," Yuta chirps. "Is there any other backstory given about the midnight man?" Yangyang finally speaks up, "Well not really, but when i was taking screenshots of this it apparently started with a curse on someone whose identity is unknown to most. There was no such thing as the midnight game or ritual until the said bewitched man came back into town. I only know up to there, but there are high chances that he's probably the origin of the ritual." Yuta explains. "Why does Y/n get the best always, that's so unfair"  Haechan's dramatic self whines while leaning onto Yangyang who rolled his eyes but nonetheless threw his hands around the latter's shoulder, "Anyways, the procedure for the ritual is given here."

"You need one candle, a lighter or a match box or anything that ignites fire, a piece of paper, something to write with, a sharp object, it could be a pin, it just needs to be something sharp enough to draw blood, a wooden door, and salt for protection-" You read out, "Now why the fuck would they need blood," Jaemin asks, shaken up. "That's for them to know and us to find out" 

"Here's how the invitation for the midnight man goes. Begin prior to midnight," 

Yuta stood up from his bed, and walked up to the backpack on the floor, picking out the papers he'd brought along and took out a blunt pencil. 

"Write your full name- first, middle, and last- on the piece of paper with your writing implement." He wrote syllable by syllable, Nakamoto Yuta. "Prick your finger with the pin and squeeze until a drop of blood appears. Dot the blood on the paper and allow it to soak in. Turn off every light in your home." He took out the small safety pin he brought along from his jean pocket, pressing his fingers hard and pricked into the skin as hard as he could, keeping in mind to not draw too much blood. Yuta let the droplet fall right in the space between his last name and first. 

"Place the paper with your name and blood on it in front of the closed wooden door. Light the candle using the matches or lighter and place it on top of the paper. If you are using a taper, make sure it is placed in a candle holder." He walks up to the door and places down the paper with his name and blood on it, with the half melted scented candle he brought along. Yuta took out his phone once again, 11:59. "Knock on the door 22 times. The final knock must occur precisely when the clock chimes 12am. Open the door; then blow out the candle and close the door. Relight your candle immediately." He starts to knock on the door, drumming on the dusty wood, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22.

He checks the time once again, 12:00AM.

He leans down to pick the glass jar containing the candle, relighting it, 

"I welcome you."

Taeyong loved the tiny creatures in the human realm. They were so naive and so, stupid but weirdly smart at the same time that made playing with them ten times more interesting. The callings from them, or the way they say it in the human realm, summoning the spirit was the only way he could gain access to enter the place. Summoning wasn't even necessary. Saying his name out was more than enough for him to go up to you. Midnight man, midnight stranger, midnight visitor, pagan's god, What not had the human's named him. 

The only one besides his ancestor of said curse that enjoyed the power of punishing people was Taeyong himself. The youngest of the bloodline and the freshest of pagan's spirit, he loved the power he had. Sure he had no access to love, instead besides lust and range he felt nothing, maybe amusement too, but none other than that and he seemed perfectly fine with that. Human's always seeked lust more than love either way so he found no problem in being void of feeling a vulnerable emotion. Instead, he found love pathetic. Watching human's from where he lived, he'd seen all from men and women seeking love by going to heights of trouble only to waste away your remaining life with one partner. Leeching off of pleasure at times when you had a significant other. He always got a hearty laugh from all of that. According to him, if you want someone, get them. Instead of tailing them and trying to be a goody two shoes, just make them yours in a way that's inevitable for them to fall for you. Control how they feel. Easier said than done since he was the only one with the ability to do so, 'how fucking pitiful'.

So when he saw you and your small group of friends discussing about him, laughing at all the assumptions you made along the way, he wanted each of you to himself. "My take on this though is that it's highly impossible since the rules here state that once you start the ritual you aren't allowed to the leave the place until the game is completely done unless you want the midnight man to follow you around for as long as you live, so unless the midnight man actually favored the pagans, there's no way they could punish the betrayer without one of the loyal ones passing away along with the one being punished" you're smart and that was intriguing to him. He liked the way you thought of things and the male beside you too, you both seemed to take tales of him as a grain of salt and that, besides angering him, made him feel the want to prove himself to you. Taeyong found the other three cute, seemingly scared of him just the way he liked it. 

His ancestor's who held the same power as him, the curse actually, came to be known as said lord because of their power of manipulation and to inject in their worst nightmare into their minds that had the people divide themselves into groups. One that believed the power they had was for the good and considered them to be their god, their savior. And the other being the one's scared of their power and the fear that the same faith would bestow upon them that had them pray for forgiveness for sins they never committed. So your friend had the point a little, but it was inaccurate. They believed him. Believed Taeyong and feared his power. He loved people bowing down in front of him, eyes trembling and body shivering. It gave him a sense of dictatorship. And he had set his mind to have both of you non-believers fear him. 

Having been brought up with little to no love, Taeyong followed down the same path as his great grandfather. Not having enough time to feel the vulnerable emotion, he chose to go down the path of pleasure and power play. His powers though, seemingly stronger than the past generations, probably due to the fact that he was young, ruthless and free of care. He could make himself appear physically in the human realm in any shape and form, though he always preferred to go in his original, but less scarier form. His visuals were out of the world. He didn't have to scare people to make them obey, instead all he had to do was pretend to be there and just be himself and that only made humans seem even pathetic to him. 

"Relight your candle immediately"

12:01PM, The main event. 

"Keeping your candle in hand and your salt and matches or lighter close by, begin to move about your home. Should your candle go out, you must relight it within the next ten seconds.  If you are successful, continue moving about your home. Do not stop moving until 3:33 am. If you are unsuccessful in relighting the candle, immediately surround yourself with a circle of salt.  Remain inside the circle until 3:33 am. At 3:33 am, it is safe to stop moving or to step outside your circle of salt. You may also turn on the lights. The game Is Over."* You conclude. Hissing slightly at the sudden pain by your shoulder that was exposed from the minimalistic clothing you'd adorned, the stranger looking over it all smirked to himself. 'Got it'

Yuta opened the door again, mindful to keep his phone back in his jean pocket along with the lighter and of course, the salt be brought along. Starting from the end of the hallway, nothing seemed to change except now, the eerie silence was starting to bother him, 'Just 3 hours to go,'. He didn't miss a single corner, walking room to room, corner to corner, mindful to stay inside all the way. The temperature of certain rooms seemingly lesser than others. A cold pocket. 

"There are few warnings too," you swipe the image to go to the next one, "At 3:33 am, the Midnight Man will leave your home. After he has left, you may safely end the game. Do NOT turn on any lights during the game.  Do NOT use a flashlight during the game. Do NOT go to sleep during the game. Do NOT use a lighter instead of a candle during the game." Check. He had a lighter on him just to relight the candle anyways. 

Taeyong, following the guy seemed to be quite impressed by his bravery. Not even the slightest of shaken up as he proceeded to walk about the villa. That's good, no slip ups and he seemed too good to mess anything up either ways, and that bored the entity. Where's the fun if he just succeeded? 

To avoid the candle from going off at the sudden flickering, Yuta covered it up the best he could with his hands and checked around whether any windows were left open. Darkness engulfed the surrounding all of a sudden, the lad being taken aback, 10 seconds. He rushed to take out his lighter, 9,  pressing the button repeatedly to ignite the flame only to get a small blue flame instead, huh? 8, running back full speed happy that he was in the premises of where his backpack is, he pulled the spare lighter, a brand new one out of the side pocket, 7, repeating the same process of flicking the button over and over, 6 until a bright orange flame engulfed the dark room, 5, he immediately grabbed his candle from besides the bag, 4 reaching in close by the wick, burning himself slightly in 3-, the process. Yuta heaves out a sigh of relief, while the spirit laughs at the frantic boy. 'He's cute.'

For a breaker, he took out his phone, looking at the time that seemed to pass by quickly throughout the ritual, 2:47 AM. A little more while to go until he'd finally get it over with. "Do not attempt to provoke the Midnight Man during the game." You ended for the nth time that night, "Which idiot would-" Yangyang asks "Haechan-" Jaemin pretends to cough while blurting out his best friends name, the mentioned feigning offence while tilting his head to the side, tongue poking at the insides of his cheek. "Seems like that's pretty much it." you shrug while the older guy beside you leaning back on both of his hands, "I kinda wanna try that out" Yuta raised his eyebrows at you. "Halloween night? We all go together" you chirp in, both of you whipping your heads to look at the three perplexed boys. "Uh, I have to water my fish on halloween? She'd get pretty thirsty". Jaemin's eyes wandered about, coming up with an excuse, "And I gotta walk my rock yo, physical fitness." Haechan adds, "Can I bring my fish along? She could use some exercising". 

"Come on guys, it won't be that bad, we'll stick in a group?" You pleaded, trying your best to muster up the cutest puppy eyes. "I'm down" Yangyang shrugs. You do a tiny seal clap, looking expectedly at the other two, Yangyang and Yuta doing the same. "We stick together?" Haechan asks, to which the three of you nod your head, 

"Alright then we're down too"

[3:04AM 30th, October. ]

A few more minutes left until he'd succeed, Yuta was starting to grow tired of constantly roaming. He'd usually not the one to wear out that quickly, but for a reason unknown to him, he felt utterly sleepy, tired, hungry and just wanted to lie down. He decided to take a small break, the candle still light, dangerously flickering but yet still intact. Yuta sat by the foot of the stairs as Taeyong looked at him with the same cocky smirk on his face, contemplating whether to pop out or not. 'Maybe let's make it subtle? '

Taking up the form of a black humanoid figure, Taeyong makes his way towards Yuta whose eyes seem to be dropping low with each passing second. Upon hearing the sounds of footsteps Yuta looks up, a hand on his forehead from the sudden throbbing headache. Letting out a loud yell at the figure in front of him that disappeared almost immediately, he rushed to grab his lighter again. The sudden temperature drop made him shudder. Taking out the new lighter, he pressed the button again and again as the time limit started to exhaust, 6, at a successful fire, he reached for his candle, only for the flame to go off when it neared the candle wick. "what the fuck.." 5, "come on.." he stated in a rushed voice, sure that he just saw whatever he saw once again. Finally flicking the button one last time, he succeeded in lighting the candle. 

Contrary to popular belief, the midnight man didn't always radiate death. Sometimes he just messes around with the humans because the underworld could get a little boring. And as the curse states death and wrath is only to be faced by those who sinned and the boy playing right now seemed to be of no threat. All Taeyong wanted to do was get the guy to believe in his existence. Skeptics were like an insult to him. So if he had to prove himself and his existence on his own, then so be it. He gets some pretty good experience out of it anyways. 

Yuta stood up immediately, remembering the warning's you'd stated, "Do not stop moving until 3:33am", walking back up the stairs, he took out his phone to check the time, 3:29am. Almost. 

The same sounds of footsteps resonated from behind him, Yuta took an immediate U-turn. Going back down the stairs and roaming the empty, dark hallways, making sure to enter each and every room, keeping a mental note to thank his parents for having a slightly confusing infrastructure. The wax was almost completely out in the glass jar, but he had to hang in there for a little longer than 2 more minutes when he felt something brush his shoulder, much similar to how a friend would drape their hands over his/her friends' shoulder. He could've brushed it off as anything if it weren't for the sharp pain he felt right after the feeling of someone touching him. He's getting the proof he wants. Almost as if someone pulled his hoodie, Yuta stumbled back, letting out a shaky scream, tripping on his own foot, landing butt down onto the floor, catching a glimpse of the same humanoid figure he'd been seeing. He needs to get out of there. 

Stumbling back onto his feet, Yuta bolted it upstairs, grabbing his phone once again to check the time, 3:32am. Reaching his room, he set the candle down right beside him, vary of the windows and doors, starting to back his backpack, the sounds of rushed footsteps running start to where he is ringing through his ears, hands shakingly packing his bag. Keeping the candle closeby, contemplating whether to draw a salt circle or not since there was only less than half a minute left when the same humanoid figure neared him with fast footsteps, reaching by the door frame with a loud agonizing scream only to disappear immediately. 

Not realising the stress of tears flowing and the tresses sticking to his forehead, Yuta looked at the door frame in a perplexed yet confused manner. What the fuck was that. 

Taking out his phone once again while grabbing his backpack, laptop and the car keys in the other hand, 3:34 am. He'd made it through. After reaching the front door, not even bothering to close it, he rushed to his car, starting it before pulling up your contacts, seeing the messages he'd never sent you. 

Yuta san 1:39am: The boys said they won't make it tomorrow, it's gonna be just you and i

Y/nleE 1:43am: Why not? 

Yuta san 1:45am: Dk, they said they aren't interested. So come near xxxx tomorrow at 11:30. I'll meet you there. 

Y/nleE 1:48am: Coolsies. 

Yuta san 3:38am: Y/n don't come here, gather the boys and meet me by Haechan's dorm tomorrow. The game's no fucking joke. 

And with that he started driving away quickly to his dormitory, not once looking back at the house to see a human. Or a human like figure standing there, A bright red hair standing out due to his blood drained looking pale skin. A smirk on his face

Message not delivered. 

31st October, 22:37PM, 2020.

Today was a weird day, 

Having all plan's set two days before, you'd make sure to keep yourself ready for whatever you and your friend group were supposed to do today. You finished up all your assignments earlier that day to keep yourself free from afternoon and on. 

The weird part was that, no matter how much you kept your phone for charge, each time you tried calling one of the guys to ask for the sudden bailing out on plan, which is a shocker because they've never done that, your phone kept switching off. You could've gone all the way to their apartment, well, dorm, but you decided to wait until later to do so. Maybe a few minutes before leaving to the place Yuta texted you so that they'd have no choice but to come along. Since your last time texting with Yuta, you hadn't heard from him. Granted, he did text you quite late at night saying he's going to do god knows what and to tell you of the sudden plan change, but you hadn't heard from him after, that being weird since he literally lives a floor below yours, he could've come any moment but nope. You kept a mental note to tell him off later. 

You took out your phone once again to check if they'd sent any messages or missed calls only to have an empty chat box, other than that of your other friends that is. Added on top of that came the constant pricking feeling on your shoulder blades from the last day you hung out with the boys. The pain would appear randomly and it would be hurtful enough to draw blood, which is weird considering the fact that you kept yourself away from all sharp objects and had a full sleeve covering the area. 

One stone, two birds. Taeyong's motto. 

After having interfered with your phone, your friends, trying to keep you away from them until you'd go through the same as your other skeptic partner, Taeyong made sure that Yuta would be sick enough after returning home to keep him from even getting up from his bed. Temporary paralysis. Your other friends, of course they tried reaching out to you, only for him to cut the service to keep you away from them for a while. They got easily distracted from you ignoring their texts as they were focused on reaching out to Yuta. 

Unknown: Hey Y/n, I'm Yuta's friend. He told me you aren't replying to his texts so asked me to do so. 

Y/n: Who's this? 

Unknown: Oh! I'm Taeyong! A close friend of well, your friend XD. 

Y/n: Nice to meet you, Taeyong. I'm Y/n but it seems like you already know that. 

Unknown: Yeah :). Yuta's on his way here and told me that you'd be joining us? Are you nearby?

Y/n: He left? No, actually, I'm just leaving my place. I guess I'll meet you there? 

Taeyong: Meet ya :)

[23:22PM, 31st October, 2020 continued. ]

Hailing a cab to the address Yuta had sent you with his friends, Taeyong's number saved on your phone in case the later won't pick up, you left your place. Still feeling a little eerie from how Yuta just decided to leave you behind when he could've just offered to go together, which is pure Yuta style. He probably wasn't in the best of moods but he could've at least texted you letting you know of his departure from the apartment building. 

The journey to the given address didn't take that long surprisingly. A little towards the outskirts of the town in a much aloof part but nonetheless, doable. It's not like you'd be alone there any ways. Paying for your fare, you took your purse, brushed your fingers through your hair to tame it a little from the ride, and turned towards the building, jumping slightly at the bright haired guy sitting by the front porch. Adorning the simplest of fit, a black knee slit jeans, with a graphic tee and a black leather jacket with a chain or two. He, in no doubts, was ethereal. His pale skin stood out the most in the street light if you could call it that and his lips seemed a little drained of blood, eyes hollow yet captivating when he looked up from the dirt below him to you who still stood yards away. Smiling, he got up, making his way towards after brushing off the invisible lint from his jeans, "Hey" he offered you his hands for you to shake upon reaching you. "Hey..? Taeyong, right?" 

Wanting so badly to smirk, he only looked down with a silent snicker, looking up immediately to not look suspicious, "Yeah, Y/n..?" you nod in response, shuddering from the coldness of his skin, "Have you been out for too long? You're freezing," you exclaim, looking at him with a guilty expression and taking a mental note to hit Yuta for not arriving earlier. "Oh no, i just reached a minute or two prior to your arrival." you nod in understanding, withdrawing your hands from his hold, "By the way, Yuta called me a few minutes ago, telling me that he wouldn't make it and to just carry on" Taeyong said, looking at you with his eyebrows raised at your confused, innocent expression, his humane form threatening to change into his original form. "What? Why? It's like,-" you look down at your wrist watch, "11:50! And he's bailing out now?", smiling at you in fake sympathy, he replied, "he said he had other things to take care of," "But you said he'd left the place and was on his way here?" you ask, hands on either sides of your hip, "Last minute plan changes" Taeyong shrugs, "Anyways, let's get inside?" 

He pointed towards the front door with both his hands, gesturing you to go forward first. And so you do. You offer him a smile before turning your back towards him and making your way towards the old house, the door seemingly open. Climbing up the stairs with caution, humming at the sound of dried leaves crunching up below your feet with each footstep. Taeyong stood behind where you two had introduced yourselves for a few minutes, a few more minutes. "Taeyong? Are you not coming?" you turn around slightly, looking over your shoulder at lad standing still, "Yeah, I'm coming" he replied soullessly, still standing his group until he saw you open the door ajar and then took his first step forward. Not bothering to go too quick. 

The insides were simple, very very simple yet magnificent. The flooring seemed to be that of wooden finishing that creaked with each step you took, implying that of how old the infrastructure must be. You look around in awe, clutching at the sling bag that you carried along. You go corner to corner, not bothering to look behind to see if the friendly stranger was hot on your trail, instead seemingly being captivated by the olden time-ish wallpapers and paintings and antique pieces that the wall adorned. Taeyong on the other hand was just growing restless, 4 more minutes until he could play his next victim, he was growing frantic. He did follow you inside, instead opting to walk the opposite direction as you, towards where he'd hidden the paper with your crimson blood and name written on it, contemplating whether to just tear it and carry on proving his existence to the female in the room. 3 more minutes, he bit into his lips, "Taeyong? Look, i found something!" He heard you scream.

Puffing out a breath of frustration, Taeyong replied "Coming!" and he walked out of the room, hands in his pocket towards where you stood by the bottom of the stairs, looking at the lighter in your hand that seemed relatively unused. "I found lighter down here" you look at him with a tiny pout evident on your lips, looking back and forth between the candle and the guy, puzzled. "It must be some thugs who came here to smoke or something" He shrugged it off, taking the lighter out of your hand. It must be you over analyzing things but without a single light turned on in the villa with only your flashlight acting as a source of light, but Taeyong looked even more lifeless than before. Eyes dark ebony and dangerous, somehow intimidating, lips adorning a bright shade of red in contrast to how you saw it the first time, and his aura had seemingly darkened. 2 more minutes. You shake your head and walk up the stairs and towards a room which has it's door wide open. Choosing to lay out your things there, you stretch out a few stiff limbs, "So, me and the boys were planning on doing the midnight game, you know. One of those stupid creepy pastas? I can't believe all of them bailed out on me last minute," you speak particularly to no one in the room, assuming that Taeyong was listening to you, whose ears only perked up at the words midnight and stupid. Midnight. 00:00Am. The devil smirked to himself. Midnight, at last. 

"I mean, Yangyang, Jaemin and Haechan came off as no shock to me- they're the other friend's by the way, but Yuta, it's weird for him to at least not let me know." You keep going, scrolling through your phone screen, only for it to load suddenly, No internet access. Sighing, you pull out offline downloads, "Did he tell you anything else? Like if he's feeling unwell or something?" you ask, letting the question float in the air, waiting for a reply. Getting known even after the passing of a few seconds, a minute too maybe, "Taeyong?" you stand up from the bed, well, the bed frame and make your way outside, "Tae?" you look left and right, searching for any moving soul when you feel your phone vibrate in your hands, and the sound of notification resonates through the eerie silence. You look down at the device in your hand, one new message from Yuta san and an immediate black out of the screen. Impossible. 

You remembered full well charging your phone to a hundred percent before leaving your dorm. Hell, you even kept it on airplane mode your whole cab ride. Shrugging it off, you keep your phone beside your bag and then proceed to go out to look for your new friend? acquaintance? You didn't even know how to classify him as yet. "Tae, if you're trying to scare me, I'll give you heads up, it doesn't work on me." you chuckle, walking to the room beside the one you were previously lounging in. "It's past midnight and we both seem too uninterested to try out whatever we were supposed to anyways, how about we just head out?" you start, looking down at your wrist watch which displayed 00:09 on the screen in neon green. "I mean, it was stupid enough that my friends and i even decided to try it out knowing it's some made up shit to scare some seven olds, probably" you continue, feeling as though you're talking to the walls at the lack of response. "Taeyong, come on. I'm growing bored." 

"Tae-" "You know, the way you logicised made it seem like you're smart enough. It was impressive," you hear his voice, a little too hoarse and plain for your liking, he continued before you could muster up a reply, "But seems like you aren't all that smart after all, seeing how you believed a total stranger and are even ready to spend time with him." you look around the place, only hearing his voice but his figure to be nowhere near you, "Taeyong, what are you talking about?" you head out of the room you currently stood in, jogging to catch his voice.

"It was a little angering you know? The way you spoke about me and my followers, it was disrespectful. And I could've taken you then and there, but what to do. You seemed too cute to take your soul without a small game? Is that what you humans call it?" You feel breathing fanning the nape of your neck and a cold air following it right after, making you turn back, "Your friend got his share of play" you whip your head forward, finally seeing the male in front of you, standing by the door frame of a connective hallway, you swore you felt his presence behind you though. His infamous smirk still adorning his features. Figure a little more towering and intimidating. If you thought he couldn't have seemed more lifeless a few minutes ago, then his appearance now only seemed to prove you wrong. "So it's only fair if you got your part of the play too, right?" 

"Taeyong, you're only making your existence weird for me, let's go if you're done." He only tilted his head in amusement, "Oh it's only about to get weirder, darling" You turn back to face a blood red shot eyed male, well, Taeyong, eliciting a gasp from you, you look over your shoulder to see the place where Taeyong stood a blink of eye ago. "How..did-" His chest visibly vibrated from the hearty laugh he let out, "How did I do that?," you step back as his voice dropped even lower, only for you to bump your back into something rigid, something cold, making you let out a yelp as Taeyong seemed to stand still in front of you, "I can do a whole lot of things," you feared turning back, the insides of your stomach hurdling around as whatever was behind you reached their arms up and held you still in a vice grip. "Y/n!" you hear a voice scream from downstairs, "Y/n! Come out! We need to get out of here!" you recognize the voice as that of your friends, Yuta's. 

You squirm hard to loosen the person's grip on your shoulder. Once succeeding, you bolt down the stairs, skipping a few steps, tripping now and then but nevertheless making it down without landing face first as you hear Taeyong's laugh thunder throughout the place. You take a turn to reach the front door, where Yuta stood in all his glory. You immediately run into his embrace, ignoring how his body seemed just as cold as the one you felt from whatever Taeyong was, "Y-yuta, he's sick, let's go, we need to go!" you try pulling Yuta's body a little closer to the exit, only for him to stand his ground, wrapping his hands around you even tighter as he caressed your hair, "Oh, Y/n.." your body goes stiff as your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, that sounded nothing like your best friend, "Yuta..?" 

You try pulling your head away from the nape of his neck to look at him, "No darling, it's 'stupid made up shit''," his body vibrated once again from the laughing against yours, as you feel yourself growing scared each passing second. You try mustering up all your strength to bring it to his sides and push him away when you feel a plush yet cold muscle press against your neck, only for it to go futile. "Still made up for you?" you feel a sharp pang of pain flow through your nerves, result of him biting the skin in a manner far too away from soft, "Taeyon-g- lord--midnight man, whatever you are.. I'm --sorry" you say in a hushed voice, scared that if you voiced out a little louder, he'd pounce at you. You feel him nibble at the soft skin, making you whimper, "Oh no, darling, do not apologize. Your doings really intoxicated me. Kept me entertained for a while." 

"But now, it's angering me to know a feeble creature as you kept poking fun at my people. At me. And I want no more than to turn you into something belonging to me. Who'd worship me the way 'my people' do." He whispered against the area, lifting his head up and leaning down, making sure not to let go of his grip on you, "oh no, pretty girls aren't supposed to cry. Tsk tsk, what is this, Y/n" His eyes bore holes onto the crown of your head. "Look at me." he acted on making you look at him faster than you could, "Could you beg for forgiveness? Give me a piece of yourself?" he inched closer to your face, a small snarl escaping his throat at your scared and trembling figure, "Or you could just be my queen and come below with me, and you'd not have to cut down your lifespan" 

"Are you turned on by all of this, Y/n? Or is it out of fear?" you let out a shaky breath as the tip of his nose touched yours, "Because i can smell you from here and oh," he let out what sounded like an animalistic growl, "Is it delicious.". "Taeyong, please let me go.. I'm sorry. I really am, just please don't hurt me,-" you let out a whine of pain when you feel his other hand knot his fingers in your locks and pull it back with much aggression, immediately planting his lips onto your trembling once, bearing his fang like teeth into plush flesh to draw out blood, earning a loud high pitched scream from your end as you try your best to push him away, futile once again. His hands tighten their grip at the waist while his other hand pulled your head further back, latching onto the firm skin of your neck, treating it with the same aggression, puncturing through the skin with his teeth as your hands go limp beside your body, nevertheless, letting out a whimper from the harsh treatment, which, in all your defense couldn't be help since you still are a human with all emotion any human would feel, that including lust. You feel his cold lips curve into a smirk against where blood flowed out, lapping it up with his tongue as you feel your vision blacken the more as time went by. 

"Oh darling you're no different than me.."

4th November, 19:48Pm, 2020.

"She's awake!!" you blink multiple times to get accustomed to the blaring lights in the room, a comfortable white filling your eyesight. You move your head towards the side to find all your friends sprawled out on each side. A drip connected to your hands making you squint in confusion, "Can you hear us, Y/n?" you feel your shoulders being shaken as jolt, "Hey? Yeah i can hear you, why won't i be able to?" you ask, confusion still laced in your voice, "Because you hadn't responded to us the last time we called you. And because you've been laying dead the past few days" Jaemin spoke up first, earning a smack from his elder brother 

"Why didn't you stop when we screamed your name the other day, Y/n? You literally weren't breathing the day we found you" Yangyang inquired and stated, "And why did you leave us all on seen??" Haechan added, "Most of all, where were you even??" Yuta spoke. You hiss at all the questions being thrown at you as you try sitting up by the inclined hospital bed, "Screamed? Didn't respond? I left you on seen? That's highly impossible and where was i??" you stare blankly at the plain wall in front of you, trying to remember any such episode. The more you strained your head, the more clueless you grew. Your throat starts to grow dry so you turn your neck to check if there are any water bottles nearby, only for a sharp pain to flow through your nerves at a particular spot in your throat. You yelp at the sudden pain, "I'll get the doctor," Haechan rushed outside, when you reached out to touch your neck, feeling it with the tips of your finger, feeling in the swollen skin, the dried up blood when it all hit you. Your eyes grow wide as you start shaking, for it to be first noticed by Yuta, "Yuta, that house! The game, it's all real! I saw hi-him, his name! I swear he's real!" growing concerned at your sudden frenzy behavior, Yuta kneeled down beside your bed, holding your non-injected hand giving it a comforting behavior. 

"Calm down, angel. Tell me point by point," he encouraged you to take in a long breath, as Haechan rushed in along with the doctor whose face was half covered with a doctor's mask, "Doctor, he-he's probably out for me, you need to get me far away from here! Please" you beg with your eyes stinging with all the tears, "No one's going to get you from here, Ms. Y/n, you're safe here" You pause your frantic actions for a while. That voice sounded a little too familiar for your liking, making you think you're over analyzing everything again. The doctor gestured to your friends to leave you up to him to have a doctor to patient talk. All of your friends nodded in understanding, giving you one last reassuring smile before collectively leaving the room. 

The doctor, once after making sure that everyone left, removed his mask to reveal the oh so familiar smirk and the hair protector, rustling the same, familiar bright red hair with the same familiar pale fingers of his. Your eyes widen, mouth falls wide ajar

"Oh wait, there's one last warning, Do not assume that the Midnight Man has left your home for good at the conclusion of the game. I'm for real done now" You laugh at your friend who snatched the phone away from you,

"Pleasure to meet you again, darling"

You look at him as he smiles, showing the prettiest set of teeth, his eyes sparkling as always. You look down for a second. Giving a mental ted talk to yourself to gather up your thoughts and just tell him about your feelings.

But you were scared. You knew that you'd lose all the relationship you've had so far. Confessing always did that. And you didn't want to lose him.

"Y/n?" he called out, seeing you space out and clearly not listening to him. No. You can't confess. Let that be. You needed him beside you. Be it him as a friend, friends with benefit or whatever.

"Y/n..?" Yangyang said a little louder, nudging your shoulder as you step out of your head space. Turning back to look at him as you smile back "Yeah go ahead" you look down right after. "You sure? Are you okay?" you nod at the questions.

Yangyang looks skeptical for a while, looking at you knowing somethings going on in your mind but still turns back and makes his way back towards your room, out of the bathroom most probably now out of your house too.

After hearing the door click behind him you confirm your thoughts thinking he has left and broke out into a sob. Pathetic.

You had the chance to say it to him right that moment, but you didn't. Understandable that you were scared that you'd lose him. But you still could've shoot your shot.

The constant nagging of your friends on you being a pussy and to muster up your courage to confess to him ring through your head which only resulted in you choking on a harsh sob that left your throat.

You let yourself drown in your own thoughts further. It wasn't until you felt that your skin was turning moist that you got out of the tub.

You take a towel and wrap it around yourself, looking into the mirror, running a finger through your hair before heading out.

"Took you long enough" you hear, jumping as you thought that you were all alone in your apartment. You look up from the ground to see Yangyang, still in your room, sitting towards the edge of the bed, now getting up and making his way towards you.

"Why.. Are you still he-" he didn't let you complete your sentence. "Tell me what's wrong" he held a stern look in his eyes as he stood directly in front of you. He was going to get it out of you tonight

"Huh-?" "Tell me what's wrong Y/n i could hear you clear as day. Don't you dare try hiding anything from me." you back away, a little intimidated by the male in front of you.

"Honestly it was nothing i swear-" you try saying to which you were cut off again, him holding you by your shoulder to keep you from backing away further from him.

"Y/n do you think i'm stupid? You think i didn't notice the way you've been looking at me from the past few days?" you look at him, confused, clutching tightly onto the towel that covered your body.

"What do you mean?" you ask in a hushed tone. "I read your conversation with Sarah." he says, leaning down so that you were almost exactly of the same height.

You keep quiet, still not catching onto what he was trying to get at. "When were you going to tell me huh?"

Then it struck you. Shit.

"Wh-what do you mean?" you try acting oblivious, which didn't work as he shook you way harder than intended, you let out a yelp.

"you fucking love me and you didn't tell it to me?" you look down, not daring to look at him knowing he's about to break off everything you had, then and there.

"Look at me when I'm talking to you Y/n" his voice dropped multiple octaves, sending a shudder down your spine as you slowly look up to see him.

"Why didn't you tell me?" he spoke in a much softer tone after seeing the redness in your eyes, which was the aftermath of your little breakdown inside the washroom.

"I.. Didn't want to" you spoke slowly at first. Taking in a deep breathe, you decide to let everything out, it's all going to end here anyways so why not?

"I didn't want to because i know you felt nothing like that. I didn't want to fucking lose you because of my stupid feeling. I know you had made it obvious that there would be no emotions involved, I'm sorry but I'm human. Maybe if you would've acted like a bitch to me I'd have not fallen for you. But nooo you had to be so kind. Do you know the number of times my heart broke part by part seeing you with other girls? When you'd come home, talk to me about your shitty dates and then just take me? It's hard not to fall for you Yangyang and I'm sorry about that-" you stop to breathe, feeling the tears well up for the second time that night.

"-And i understand that you feel nothing for me but please, please don't leave me for this i cannot afford to lose you. I'll get rid of my feelings for you, I'll try to but p-please don't-"

The rest of your words were swallowed up by Yangyang's mouth as he pressed a hard kiss against your lips, shutting you completely, backing you up until your back hit the wall behind you. The kiss was far from innocent as he shoved his tongue into your mouth after you parted your lips when he bit the bottom. You let out a whimper.

Things got heated between the pair of you when he decided to pull away. Foreheads connected, he looks at you dead in the eye.

"Stop speaking about my feelings for me as a third person, Y/n." your gaze fixated on the floor, finding the wood more interesting than ever. You felt fingers grip your chin as your head was tilted up to look straight back at Yangyang.

"You think i feel nothing for you. Think i feel not even an ounce of love for you and you're right. I don't feel for you just a little. Because you cloud my fucking thoughts every single hour of the day. Of course I like you, fuck no i love you but i was confused because, one moment you'd be all up against me and the other you don't even bother looking at me. So i decided it would be the best to start distracting myself, maybe go on few trashy dates, fuck someone else that wasn't you. But you just had to be in my thoughts every. single. second. So no. Now knowing that you love me, of course i won't let you forget your feelings for me, not on my watch that is."

You look up to him, looking straight at him as his gaze stayed fixed on your face, watching your eyes grow wide every passing second.

"Say it" he spoke with that low tone once again. "w-what?" you stammer.

"Say that you love me." your eyes widen more than it already had, you say nothing. The room eerily silent as you look all over his face to see if he spoke the truth or it was a mere confession out of desperation of wanting a girlfriend.

"Are you going to say it or should i fuck it out of you?" he spoke, a little above a whisper as he took a hold of your hands, pinning it down beside your head, leaning into the crook of your neck, placing a light kiss on your skin, then moving up to your ear lobe, pausing there, waiting for you to speak. "i.." you started. "hm?" he asked placing a kiss on your temple.

At no response from your end he dipped back down into your neck, biting it a little too hard, making you squirm. "Say it princess, don't keep me waiting" he said still continuing his demonstration. He bit down once again and this time you let out a loud gasp. Squealing you say "I-i love you"

He felt his lips grow into a smirk against your skin, letting go of your hands placing them around his neck as his hands moved to grip your hips. "What was that? I couldn't hear you." His hands snaked behind you going dangerously low, placing it on your ass giving it a light squeeze. You whine as you squeal out louder "I love you!"

He stopped biting the skin of your neck, leaning back, admiring the newly formed bruises that replaced the older ones.

He let go of you and pulled you forward, right into his chest, holding you in place with a tight embrace. "I love you too" he spoke in a voice way softer compared to his actions not even a second ago. "I'm sorry i made you feel unloved." he rocked you back and forth. "I'm so sorry" he repeated, placing a kiss on top of your head.

"I'll show you how much i love you" he said, not giving you a chance to speak as he lifted you up making his way towards the bed where things were intimate a while ago.

"Yang not again! We just fucked like an hour ago" you said giggling as he placed soft kisses all over your face.

"There were no strings attached in that baby" he said as he lowered you onto the bed, standing up, removing his shirt for the second time that night.

"Oh this time i'll show you just how much i love you"

-

That's it!! Was that good?? I'm sorry if it's trashy! This is infact, the first ever time I've written a one-shot! Do tell me if you liked reading it luvs! 💗