#you reader

         He sees you later that day.

You’re across the hall, hair slightly messier than when you started your shift, sleeves rolled, talking softly to a kid in one of the rooms. You crouch down to their level, voice gentler than anything he’s ever heard from anyone else.

You’ve always been like that. Soft where he’s sharp. Warm where he’s distant. It’s what got him in the first place.

Second year residents, thrown together on a case neither of you were supposed to lead. You’d challenged him—flat-out told him he was being too rigid, too clinical, that he needed to see the patient, not just the procedure. No one talks to him like that. No one had. You did. And then you stayed.

Through residency, through fellowships, through late nights and worse mornings and everything in between.

Eight years.

He leans against the wall, arms crossed, watching you for a second longer than he should. You laugh at something the kid says. It hits him square in the chest.

You find him later.

“Hey,” you say, nudging his arm lightly as you come up beside him. “You look like you’re brooding.”

“I don’t brood.”

You hum. “Right. You just… aggressively think.”

He glances at you, unimpressed. “That’s not a thing.”

“It is when you do it.”

There’s a beat. Comfortable. Familiar. Eight years worth of it. You lean against the counter next to him, shoulder brushing his. “Long day?” you ask.

He hesitates. Not long. Not really. Just… loud in his head. “…something like that.”

You study him for a second, subtle but perceptive in the way you always are. “You okay?”

There it is. The opening. The moment he could say something. He thinks about it—about just asking. About bringing it up plainly, directly, the way he does everything else.

Do you feel like we’ve been together too long without moving forward? Do you think we’re… stuck? Do you still want this?

The questions sit heavy on his tongue. But then you reach for his hand—absentminded, automatic, like you always do—and lace your fingers through his.

And it’s so easy. Too easy to lose the words. “I’m fine,” he says instead.

You don’t look convinced. But you squeeze his hand once, thumb brushing over his knuckles. “Okay.”

         The weight doesn’t leave him when he pulls into the driveway.

It follows him all the way up, sits heavy in his chest even as the house comes into view—warm, glowing, yours. The soft orange wash of the salt lamps bleeding through the windows, the fairy lights you insisted on stringing up year-round flickering gently against the glass.

“Gotta let people know we are home no matter if we aren’t.”

He remembers the way you said it, half-joking, half-serious, already halfway up a step stool before he could argue. He never really did argue. Not when it came to things like that. Not when it made you look like you belonged here.

The engine cuts. The quiet settles. For a second, he just sits there. Breath slow. Hands still on the wheel. Then he exhales, long and tired, and forces himself to move.

The house greets him the same way it always does.

Soft. Warm. Lived in.

Peaches and mint hit him first—the candle you swore was “life-changing” from that farmer’s market you dragged him to months ago. It’s burned low now, but still enough to linger. Underneath it, something richer—tomato, cream, a hint of vodka sauce still hanging in the air.

You cooked. Of course you did.

He toes off his shoes quietly, setting his bag down by the door out of habit. The TV murmurs low from the living room—something familiar, procedural, the steady rhythm of voices he doesn’t have to pay attention to.

He follows it. And there you are. Curled into the corner of the couch—your couch, even if he paid for it—the massive Love Sac you insisted was “an investment, Brendon, trust me,” swallowing you whole in the best way. A blanket half-draped over your legs, one arm tucked under your cheek, the other resting loosely against your stomach.

Your breathing is slow. Even. Every so often, a small sound slips past your lips. Asleep. Waiting for him, probably. Something in his chest tightens.

He should let you sleep. He knows that.

You’ve probably had a long day too. You always do. And you never complain about it—not really. Not in the way he does, not in the way he feels it sitting in his bones like something he can’t shake.

But—He needs you.

Not in the dramatic, falling-apart way. Just… in the quiet way. The way that steadies him. The way that reminds him he’s not alone in any of it. So he moves closer, careful but not careful enough to keep the couch from dipping under his weight.

Then he climbs in. Big enough for both of you, just like you said.

He doesn’t hesitate—just folds himself over you, slotting in like he’s done this a hundred times before, because he has. Chest to chest, one arm braced beside your head, the other wrapping around your waist as he tucks his face into the space between your neck and shoulder.

Warm. Familiar. Home.

You stir immediately, shifting under him as he pulls you closer—closer—like he’s trying to erase whatever distance the day put between you.

“Mm… Bren…” your voice is thick with sleep, barely there as your hand instinctively comes up, fingers tangling in his hair. “When’d you get home…”

“Just now,” he murmurs, voice low against your skin.

You hum softly, eyes still closed. “We should eat… shower too… then get some sleep…”

“Mm,” he answers, but he doesn’t move.

Doesn’t even try. Because your hand is already in his hair, nails grazing lightly over his scalp, dragging from his forehead back to the nape of his neck in slow, practiced strokes.

Exactly how he likes it. Exactly how you’ve always done it. He exhales, the tension in his shoulders loosening almost immediately under your touch.

God. He could fall asleep like this. He wants to fall asleep like this.

Your nails scratch lightly again, a little firmer this time, and his grip around you tightens without him thinking about it. His face presses deeper into your neck, breath warm against your skin. You always know. Even half-asleep, you always know what he needs.

“…long day?” you murmur, words barely formed.

He hesitates. Just for a second. Then, quieter—“Yeah.”

You don’t push. Never do. Just shift slightly so he’s more comfortable, your other hand coming up to trace lazy patterns along his shoulder, your nails occasionally dragging just enough to make him exhale a little heavier.

“That’s okay,” you mumble. “You’re home now.”

Simple but it does it, it always does. He doesn’t realize how tight his chest was until it isn’t anymore. Until it loosens under your hands, under your voice, under the steady rhythm of you just… being here. His fingers curl slightly into your side, grounding himself.

“I don’t say it enough,” he mutters into your skin, voice rougher now, quieter.

You hum. “Say what?”

He doesn’t answer right away. Just presses a slow, absentminded kiss against your neck. “…this,” he settles on. “Us.”

Your hand pauses for half a second. Then resumes, softer this time. “You don’t have to,” you whisper. “I know.”

And that almost undoes him more than anything else. Because you do. You always have. From the moment you laughed and turned him down the first time he asked you to move in—gentle, not rejecting, just… not yet.

To the way you finally said yes like it was the most natural thing in the world. To this. Right here. He shifts slightly, just enough to look at you. Your eyes are still closed, lashes resting against your cheeks, completely at ease even with his weight on top of you. He brushes his thumb along your jaw, soft. “…I’m serious,” he says, quieter now.

Your lips twitch faintly. “I know you are.”

“No—” he exhales, a little sharper than he means to, then softens again. “I mean it.”

Your eyes blink open slowly, still hazy with sleep as they meet his. There’s no confusion there. Just you. Waiting. He swallows.

“I don’t… handle things like you do,” he admits. “But you make it easier.”

Your expression softens, something warmer settling in your gaze. “Bren—”

“I mean it,” he repeats, quieter now. “Coming home to you. This place. It’s—” he falters slightly, then steadies. “…it’s the only part of my day that doesn’t feel like work.”

A small smile pulls at your lips. “Good,” you whisper. “That’s kind of the point.”

He huffs out something that almost resembles a laugh, shaking his head slightly before dropping his forehead to yours.

Your hands don’t stop moving. They never do. Scratching lightly at his scalp, trailing down his neck, over his shoulders—mapping him in the way you’ve memorized over the years. He melts into it. Completely.

“You gonna move,” you mumble after a minute, voice teasing but soft, “or are you just gonna suffocate me out here?”

“…no.”

You let out a quiet laugh, breath warm against his lips. “Figured.”

He shifts just enough to take some of his weight off you—but not enough to actually leave. Not enough to lose contact.

“Five minutes,” you murmur. “Then we eat.”

“Mm.”

“Then shower.”

“Mm.”

“Then sleep.”

He nods faintly against you. But neither of you move. Because your nails are still in his hair. Because his arms are still wrapped around you. Because the world outside this couch can wait a little longer. And right now—He just needs this. Needs you. And you let him have it.

He stills under your hands. Not completely—but enough that you feel it. The way his jaw tightens just slightly beneath your palms, the way his eyes flicker like he wants to look away again but can’t because you’re holding him there, grounding him.

You always do that. Pull him back when he starts drifting too far into his own head. Your kisses come fast, scattered, soft against his cheeks, his nose, the corner of his mouth until he huffs and tries to turn his face away, one hand coming up half-heartedly to block you.

“Okay—okay,” he mutters, voice quieter now, a little less tight. “You’re doing too much.”

You grin, not stopping until you’re sure you’ve broken through at least some of that tension. Then you settle, slipping out from under him until you’re straddling him, hands firm on either side of his face so he has no choice but to look at you.

“I love you,” you say again, softer this time, slower. “And I love us.” His eyes search yours. Like he’s trying to find the catch. There isn’t one.

Eventually, you do get him up.

It takes effort—soft nudges, a quiet “c’mon, Bren”, your fingers still tangled in his hair as leverage—but he follows, slow and heavy like he’s being pulled out of something deeper than sleep.

A sleepy puppy, exactly.

He doesn’t stray far from you the entire time.

In the kitchen, he leans into you while you reheat the pasta, arm slung low around your waist, chin nearly resting on your shoulder. He eats because you hand him a fork, because you nudge his knee with yours and give him that look.

“Eat.”

“…I am.”

“You’re staring at it.” A quiet huff—but he listens.

In the shower, it’s the same. Closer than necessary. Hands slower than usual. He shampoos your hair carefully, fingers working through your scalp in a way that almost makes your knees weak, rinsing it out with the same focus he uses in managing bones. Conditioner next, gentle, methodical.

Then his hands slide down—soap, warm water, familiar paths along your arms, your sides, your back. Not rushed. Not distracted. Just… grounding himself in you.

You do the same for him, returning the care, the quiet attention. He lets you—leans into it, even. Lets your fingers work through his hair, down his shoulders, across his chest. He eyes your lavender bottle when you reach for it. “…no.”

You snort. “You know you like using this.”

“I don’t. It smells like sleep.”

“That’s the point.”

“…I don’t trust it.”

You laugh, rinsing it away anyway. By the time you’re dried off, teeth brushed, and back in pajamas, the weight of the day should be gone. Usually is. But when you collapse into bed, it comes back. You feel it in the way his hands grip your shirt—his shirt on you—fisting the fabric as he pulls you into him, tighter than normal. Not suffocating, but close. Like he needs contact. 

Like he needs to make sure you’re still there. You don’t say anything at first. Just go with it. Let him pull you in, let him tuck himself into you the way he always does—face pressed near your shoulder, ear over your heartbeat.

Your hand comes up automatically, threading into his hair. Scratch. Slow drag. He exhales. But something’s off. You know it immediately. Brendon  isn’t like this unless something’s wrong.

Sick, drunk, or the rare quiet moments when the world isn’t watching him and he lets himself be softer than he ever admits. This is… different. He’s quiet, yes. But it’s heavier than that.

You wait for the routine to fall into place. For him to tilt his head so you can start your kisses. For him to mumble something half-complaining when you overdo it. For the small, familiar rhythm you’ve built together without ever meaning to.

It doesn’t happen. No kisses. No teasing. Just his finger tracing slow spirals on your bicep. Round. Round. Round.

You frown slightly, even though he can’t see it. “…Bren,” you murmur softly.

He hums, distracted. You shift, pressing closer—closer than you already are—until there’s no space left between you. Your fingers slide from his hair to his jaw, gently nudging.

“Hey.” He resists for half a second. Then lets you guide him. His eyes meet yours. There it is. That tightness. “…what’s wrong?” you ask, voice quiet, careful.

He shakes his head immediately. “Nothing.”

You don’t even entertain it. “Brendon.” A pause. He knows you know. His hand tightens slightly where it rests on you before loosening again.

“…I just—” he exhales, gaze slipping away for a second before coming back. “While I was scrubbing in… two of the girls were talking.”

You wait.

“About relationships,” he adds. “And… their expiration dates.”

Oh.

You don’t react right away—just watch him, the way his brows pull together slightly, the way his jaw tightens like he’s already annoyed at himself for even caring.

“My, my,” you murmur, a small smile tugging at your lips despite it, “Park the Shark listening in on gossip?”

He groans softly, dropping his forehead to yours for a second. “They were talking like I wasn’t there.”

“Mm,” you hum. “Bold of them.” There’s a beat. Then you tilt your head slightly. “So what did they say?”

He hesitates. And that—that’s what makes you really pay attention. Because Brendon doesn’t hesitate like this unless it matters. “…that it’s weird,” he says finally. “To date this long. At our age. Without…” he trails off, jaw tightening. “…doing anything about it.”

You blink. Then—softly—“Love, we did do something about it. We went to HR, remember? Very official. Very romantic.”

He huffs, but it doesn’t stick. You notice the way he looks away again. The way his finger starts tracing your arm faster now. Nervous. “…we’ve been dating for eight years,” he says.

“Yeah,” you nod easily. “Almost nine in June.”

“Exactly.”

You study him for a second. Then smile, just a little. “Love… what does that mean?”

He exhales, sharper this time. “They said it’s… not normal. That by now we should at least be engaged.”

There it is. You don’t laugh this time. Not because it’s serious—but because he is. You shift, gently but deliberately, until you’re over him—straddling his hips, hands coming up to cup his face before he can look away again.

“Hey.” He still tries. You don’t let him. Your thumbs press lightly into his cheeks, holding him there. “You know I don’t care about that,” you say softly. “You know that.”

He doesn’t answer. So you keep going. “Your parents dated for what—six months? Got married, had your brother, your sister, then you?” you tilt your head slightly. “You’ve seen how that went.”

His jaw tightens faintly.

“And mine,” you add, gentler now, “dated for fifteen years. Finally got married… and divorced three years later.” A beat. “Time doesn’t mean anything if it’s not right.”

That gets his eyes back on you. Really on you. Good. You lean down then—quick, soft kisses scattered across his face, cheeks, nose, the corner of his mouth until he makes a face and tries to push you away. “Okay—”

“No,” you murmur, smiling against his skin. “I’m not done.”

He huffs, but there’s less weight in it now. You slow eventually, resting your forehead against his, still holding his face.

“I love you,” you say, softer this time.

His eyes flicker.

“So the ring,” you shrug lightly, “the whole paper work, the financial benefits—” a small smile, “—that can come later.” You tighten your hold on his face just enough to keep him from looking away again.

“We move at our pace,” you say. “Not theirs.”

He’s quiet. Really quiet. Searching your face like he’s trying to find hesitation, doubt—anything. There’s none.

“…you mean that,” he says finally. Not a question.

“Always and yeah,” you continue, thumb brushing along his cheekbone, “sometimes I see people getting engaged after like… a year and I’m like—” you pull a face, teasing, “okay, show-offs.”

That gets the faintest twitch at the corner of his mouth.

“But it doesn’t make me feel like we’re behind,” you add. “Or doing something wrong.”

His gaze drops for half a second—your hands tighten just enough to bring him back. “Hey,” you murmur. “Stay with me.”

He exhales, nodding once.

“I know what we have,” you say. “I’ve known for a long time. I don’t need a timeline from anyone else to tell me that it’s real.”

That settles something in him. You feel it in the way his grip on your shirt loosens just slightly—not letting go, just… not holding on so tight.

“I’m not sitting here waiting for you to catch up,” you add gently. “I’m already here with you.”

His brows pull together at that, something softer slipping through the cracks of that usual sharp expression.

“…you’re not… worried?” he asks, quieter than before. “That I’m… dragging it out?”

You shake your head immediately. “No.” No hesitation. No second-guessing. “I said yes when I was ready,” you remind him lightly. “Moved in when it felt right. Stayed because I wanted to—not because I was waiting for the next step.”

Your thumbs trace slow, absent patterns along his jaw. “And when the next step happens,” you continue, voice warm, steady, “it’ll be because we decided it—not because some coworkers think there’s an expiration date on us.”

He lets out a breath that almost sounds like a laugh, but it’s softer than that. More relieved. “…they said it was weird,” he admits after a second, like it feels smaller now that he’s saying it out loud.

You tilt your head. “Weird?”

“Yeah.”

You shrug. “Good.”

That makes him blink.

“Why would I want us to be normal?” you ask, a little amused. “Normal sounds boring.”

That actually pulls a quiet huff from him. You take the opportunity, leaning down to press a slow kiss to his forehead this time—mirroring him, grounding him the way he does for you.

“We’re good, Bren,” you whisper against his skin. “More than good.”

His hands shift from your shirt to your waist, holding you there—not desperate now, just… certain. “…you’d tell me,” he says after a moment. Not a question.

“Always.”

“…if you wanted more.”

“I do want more,” you correct gently. His eyes flick back up to yours. You smile, softer now. “Just not at the cost of this.”

That’s the thing that settles him. You can see it happen. The tension leaves his shoulders, the sharpness in his gaze easing back into something warmer, something familiar. His thumb brushes absently along your side like he’s reorienting himself.

Back to you. Back to this. “…okay,” he says finally.

You nod once, satisfied. “Okay,” you echo.

There’s a beat. Then you lean in, nudging your nose against his. “Now can we do our actual routine? Because you skipped my kisses and I feel personally attacked.”

He exhales, a quiet, almost-laugh slipping out as his hands slide up to your arms. “Dramatic.”

“You love it.”

“…unfortunately.”

You grin, already leaning in again, pressing quick kisses along his face until he gives in properly this time—tilting his head just enough to meet you halfway, lips brushing yours in something softer, slower.

Familiar. When you finally settle, it’s like muscle memory. You shift down beside him, tucked close, his arm wrapping around you as he buries his face near your shoulder again—right where he likes it. Your hand finds his hair without thinking, nails dragging lightly across his scalp.

He exhales, deeper this time. Steady. Your other hand rests over his where it sits against your waist, fingers lacing together. No tension. No second-guessing. Just the quiet rhythm of the two of you falling back into place. And this time—When he listens to your heartbeat, it doesn’t feel like something he might lose. It feels like something he’s already chosen. Something that chose him back.

       That night, he doesn’t sleep much.

He’s lying next to you, staring at the ceiling, your head tucked against his shoulder, breathing slow and even.

He turns slightly, just enough to look at you. Now he wonders if he should have. If you’ve been waiting for him to catch up. If you’ve been quiet about it because you didn’t want to push. Because you didn’t want to scare him off. The thought sits wrong in his chest. You’ve never been the kind to play games.

If you wanted something, you’d say it. Wouldn’t you? …wouldn’t you?

He exhales quietly, careful not to wake you. His gaze drifts to the nightstand. His phone is there. So is the decision he’s been putting off.

The next morning, you wake up to him already gone. Not unusual. But there’s a sticky note on the counter.

Dinner tonight. Don’t make plans.

No signature. He doesn’t need one. You smile a little anyway.

By midday, the cart on his phone is no longer a cart. That evening, he’s home before you. Also not unusual. But when you walk in, the lights are dimmer than usual. The place is… cleaner. Suspiciously so.

“Bren?” you call.

“In here.”

You follow his voice to the living room. He’s standing there, hands in his pockets, posture straight in that way he defaults to when he’s… nervous.

You pause. “…what did you do?”

His mouth twitches. “Why do you assume I did something?”

“Because you only clean like this when you’re avoiding something or about to drop a bomb.”

“That’s not—” He stops. “…entirely inaccurate.”

You fold your arms, amused. “Okay. Should I be concerned?”

He shakes his head once. Then, after a second, he steps closer. Close enough that you have to tilt your head up slightly to look at him. There’s a beat. Then another. He doesn’t rush it. Doesn’t fumble. Just… looks at you. Eight years. Every version of you he’s known layered into this one moment.

“You’ve never asked me where this is going,” he says finally.

Your brows knit slightly. “I mean… I figured it was going with you.”

“It is.”  You soften a little at that.

“Okay,” you say gently. “Then I’m not really worried.”

He studies your face, searching for something—doubt, hesitation, anything. He doesn’t find it. “…you don’t think we’ve been together too long without… making a move?”

You blink, caught off guard. “This? Again?”

“Just answer the question.”

You tilt your head, considering. “No,” you say after a moment. “I don’t.”

He exhales, just slightly.

“But,” you add, stepping a little closer, “I did think you’d say something eventually.”

His gaze sharpens. “Eventually?”

You shrug lightly. “I wasn’t in a rush. I just—” you smile a little, softer now, “—trusted that you’d get there when you were ready.”

“…okay.”

You narrow your eyes slightly. “Brendon—”

He moves before you can finish. One step back. Then down. Your breath catches as he drops to one knee. “…oh.”

He doesn’t look away. Doesn’t overcomplicate it. Just reaches into his pocket, pulls out the ring he’s already memorized against your hand.

“I was going to wait,” he says. “For the right time. But—” his jaw tightens slightly, “—there’s no version of my future that doesn’t have you in it. So waiting doesn’t make sense.”

Your eyes are already glassy. “Brendon…”

“I love you,” he says, steady and certain. “I have for a long time. I’m going to for a lot longer.” A beat. “Marry me.”

You let out a breath that’s half laugh, half something shakier.

“Yeah,” you say immediately. “Yeah, obviously—yes.”

For the first time all day—maybe all week—he looks completely at ease. Like everything finally clicked into place. He slides the ring onto your finger. Perfect fit. Of course it is. He stands, and you don’t even give him a second before you’re pulling him in, arms tight around him.

“You’ve been looking at my Pinterest, haven’t you?” you murmur against his shoulder.

“…no.”

You pull back just enough to give him a look.

“…yes,” he admits.

You grin. “Stalker.”

“Efficient.”

After leaving Jaehyun, you take your bag to the counter to check it in and get weighted. The process feels almost routine, but your mind keeps replaying the conversation, the subtle tension between you both. You shake your head, trying to focus, and make your way toward the departure gates. You stop by a nearby restaurant picking up a small bowl of fruit. The bright colors of the fruit contrast with the muted tones of the airport, and you find a seat by your gate. You take out your book, flipping it open to the last chapter you left off, but you can’t help but glance around..wondering if you might see Jaehyun again. As you sit eating a piece of mango, you shift in your seat; adjusting your posture to get comfortable. The weight of the day starts to settle in, and you focus on the words of the books, attempting to try and push Jaehyun from your mind. A part of you can’t help but hope that fate might bring him into your orbit again.

The call for boarding echos through the terminal, and passengers begin forming a line near the gate. Some wear tired expressions, their postures slouched; clearly drained from the day. Others look eager, chatting softly or scrolling through their phones. There’s a mix of energy in the air— some impatient to get seated, others simply resigned to the long flight ahead. You notice a family struggling to organize their carry-ons, a couple exchanging smiles, and a businessman with an air of quiet determination; typing furiously on his laptop even as the line inches forward.

You make your way down the narrow aisle, glancing at the seat numbers until you find yours— a comfortable aisle seat near the middle of the plane. Settling in, you place your bag beneath the seat in front of you and adjust the air vent above your head. The hum of conversations and the faint rustling of luggage fill the cabin as passengers continue boarding. You glance out the window briefly, the runway lights glowing softly against the encroaching night. The familiar routine of flying soothes you, even as you wonder what the next few hours will bring.

As you glance up from your seat, a familiar face catches your eye— 𝘑𝘢𝘦𝘩𝘺𝘶𝘯. Your heart skips a beat, and a rush of emotions floods you. 𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘥𝘥𝘴? you think, the surprise momentarily leaving you frozen. You can’t help but feel a mix of nervous excitement and curiosity. He hasn’t noticed you, his attention focused ahead as he places his bag in an overhead compartment. He looks composed, his movements unhurried, but there’s an air of quiet confidence about him that you find impossible to ignore. Your thoughts race: 𝘚𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘐 𝘴𝘢𝘺 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨? 𝘋𝘰𝘦𝘴 𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘮𝘣𝘦𝘳 𝘮𝘦? But before you can decide, he moves to his seat, four rows ahead of you on the opposite side of the plane. You exhale, your pulse still quickened.

The cabin grows quieter as the last of the passengers find their seat. The flight attendant began their announcements, the voice is calm and practiced as they explained the safety procedures. You glance around, the subtle shift in everyone’s demeanor— some passengers look out the windows, lost in thought, while others tuck themselves into their seats; preparing for the long flight ahead. The faint scent of airplane upholstery, and recirculated air fills the cabin.The plane begins to taxi down the runway, the soft vibration of the engines reverberating through the cabin. The plane then gathers speed, the whirring sound growing louder, and more intense. Outside, the city lights blurred into streaks of golden white; stretching out against the dark sky. As the plane lifts off, you feel a subtle weightlessness. Your body pressing gently against the seat. The lights below grow smaller, fading into a sea of darkness as the plane ascends the clouds. The steady hum of the engines becomes a constant background noise, oddly comforting. You glance out the window again, catching glimpses of the horizon— a deep indigo streaked with faint traces of moonlight.

You settle back into your set, the reality of being thousands of feet in the air sinking in. A mixture of anticipation and curiosity bubbles within you. 𝘍𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘳𝘰𝘸𝘴 𝘢𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥, you remind yourself. A small smile tugging at your lips. 𝘔𝘢𝘺𝘣𝘦 𝘧𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘪𝘴𝘯’𝘵 𝘥𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘶𝘴 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘺𝘦𝘵. The hum of the plane's engines creates a steady backdrop as you settle into your seat. To pass the time, you alternate between reading and watching a movie on your iPad. The soft glow of the screen illuminates your face as the story unfolds, drawing you in. Occasionally, you glance up, noticing the subtle movements of the other passengers-someone adjusting their blanket, a child flipping through a coloring book, the cabin crew moving quietly down the aisle. The hours seem to blend together, the monotony of the flight broken only by the faint announcements and the occasional sound of a page turning.

When the flight attendant approaches with the meal cart, her smile is polite but warm. "𝙒𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙬𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙩𝙤 𝙝𝙖𝙫𝙚? 𝙎𝙩𝙚𝙬𝙚𝙙 𝘽𝙚𝙚𝙛 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝘽𝙪𝙧𝙙𝙤𝙘𝙠 𝘽𝙪𝙩𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙍𝙞𝙘𝙚, 𝙎𝙝𝙧𝙞𝙢𝙥 & 𝙍𝙞𝙘𝙚 𝙂𝙧𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙣, 𝙤𝙧 𝙎𝙖𝙡𝙖𝙙 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙋𝙧𝙤𝙨𝙘𝙞𝙪𝙩𝙩𝙤?" she asks, her tone practiced but pleasant. You glance at the options briefly before deciding, "𝙄'𝙡𝙡 𝙝𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙎𝙩𝙚𝙬𝙚𝙙 𝘽𝙚𝙚𝙛 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝘽𝙪𝙧𝙙𝙤𝙘𝙠 𝘽𝙪𝙩𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙍𝙞𝙘𝙚, 𝙥𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙚." She nods, handing you the neatly packaged tray, and you thank her before unwrapping it.

The aroma of the stewed beef is the first thing that catches your attention-a rich, savory scent with a hint of sweetness from the burdock. The beef is tender, practically melting in your mouth with each bite, while the butter rice is fragrant and creamy, the grains soft but not overly sticky. The burdock adds a subtle crunch, its earthy flavor complementing the dish perfectly. Each bite feels comforting, like a warm hug in the middle of the flight. You take your time, savoring the meal, feeling grateful for the brief moment of indulgence. With the meal finished and the tray cleared, you glance at the in-flight monitor. An hour and fifty-three minutes remain—a little over halfway there.

You stretch your legs slightly, adjusting your position, and try to focus back on your book. But your mind drifts, and before you realize it, your eyes are glancing toward Jaehyun. He's seated four rows ahead, on the opposite side of the aisle, but you can only catch fleeting glimpses of him. His profile is sharp, his features softened by the dim cabin lighting. You can't help but wonder what he's doing— reading maybe, or watching a movie like you. A part of you feels a small thrill at the thought of him being so close, but you quickly chastise yourself. 𝘊𝘢𝘭𝘮 𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘯, you think. 𝘖𝘶𝘳 𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘣𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘺 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨. 𝘑𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘢 𝘤𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦. You shake your head, trying to refocus on your book, but the memory of his gaze and the playful tone of his voice lingers in your mind like a whisper you can't quite ignore.

As the plane cruises through the night sky, you lean back in your seat, feeling the slight hum of the engines beneath you. Outside the window, the world is dark, with only the faint glimmers of stars visible beyond the clouds. You try to focus on the movie playing on your iPad, but the thought of Jaehyun keeps creeping back into your mind. 𝘞𝘩𝘺 𝘢𝘮 𝘐 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘴𝘰 𝘮𝘶𝘤𝘩? you wonder. You take a deep breath, trying to push the thoughts away. Perhaps it's just the novelty of the encounter, the charm of meeting someone so unexpectedly. Or maybe it's something more—a subtle pull, like the universe nudging you toward something you don't yet understand. Either way, you decide to let it go, for now. You close your eyes for a moment, the steady hum of the engines lulling you into a state of calm as the flight continues onward.

After this awaited journey, the plane’s landing announcements start. The plane begins its descent, the soft hum of the engines growing louder as the wheels prepare to touch down. Outside the window, the city lights of Tokyo stretch out like a glittering sea, flickering against the darkness. A gentle jolt signals the landing, and the cabin fills with a mix of relieved sighs and quiet murmurs. Passengers begin shifting in their seats, reaching for bags, stretching limbs, and preparing for the next leg of their journey. Some wear expressions of excitement, their eyes sparkling with anticipation, while others appear weary, eager to get through the formalities of arrival and find rest.

You gather your belongings and step into the aisle, following the slow procession of passengers disembarking the plane. As you make your way through the jet bridge, the cool, sterile air of the airport greets you. A part of you hopes to see Jaehyun again, scanning the crowd for a glimpse of his familiar figure. But he's nowhere to be found. You shake your head with a small smile, feeling the lingering effect of his presence. 𝘎𝘦𝘦𝘻, 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘢𝘶𝘳𝘢 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘥𝘪𝘥 𝘢 𝘯𝘶𝘮𝘣𝘦𝘳 𝘰𝘯 𝘮𝘦.

At baggage claim, you wait patiently as the conveyor belt begins its steady hum. Around you travelers chat softly or scroll through their phone. Their tired faces lit by the glow of the overhead lights. When your luggage finally appears, you grab it with a sense of relief and make your way toward the exit. As you step out of the airport, the cool night air greets you, carrying with it a subtle freshness tinged with hints of city life. The atmosphere feels calm yet vibrant, the distant hum of traffic blending with the occasional chatter of passersby. There's an unspoken order in the way people move, a quiet efficiency that contrasts with the buzzing energy of Tokyo waiting beyond. The air feels different here-clean, crisp, and filled with the promise of something new. You hail a taxi, and within moments, a sleek black car pulls up. The driver steps out, offering a polite bow before loading your luggage into the trunk. You slide into the back seat, the faint scent of leather and citrus filling the car as the journey begins.

The city unfolds before you as the taxi weaves through the streets of Tokyo. Neon signs glow in vibrant hues casting colorful reflections onto the sleek surfaces of buildings. Crowds of people move with purpose along the sidewalks, their silhouettes illuminated by the warm glow of shopfronts and streetlights. The roads are lined with a mix of traditional architecture and modern skyscrapers, blending seamlessly to create a unique urban landscape.

You pass by convenience stores bustling with late-night activity, quiet parks with their shadowy trees swaying gently in the breeze, and vending machines that stand like sentinels on nearly every corner. The city feels alive, its energy palpable even at this hour. As you watch the scenery pass by, a sense of wonder fills you. This is Tokyo—a city that never truly sleeps.

The taxi pulls up to your hotel, the “𝐄𝐥𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐒𝐚𝐤𝐮𝐫𝐚 𝐈𝐧𝐧”, a sleek and modern building adorned with soft lighting and a beautifully landscaped entrance. Cherry blossom trees flank the walkway, their delicate branches swaying gently in the night breeze. The glass doors slide open smoothly as you step inside, greeted by the subtle scent of fresh flowers and polished wood. The lobby is spacious and inviting, with warm lighting casting a golden glow over plush seating areas and minimalist décor. A small fountain trickles softly in the corner, adding a sense of calm to the bustling energy of travelers checking in. You approach the front desk, where a friendly staff member welcomes you with a bow and efficiently checks you in.

After a short elevator ride, you find your room on the seventh floor. The door clicks open, revealing a cozy yet modern space with a large bed draped in crisp white linens, a small seating area by the window, and soft ambient lighting. The view from the window offers a glimpse of Tokyo's skyline, the city lights twinkling like stars in the distance. You place your luggage by the wall and sink into the bed, exhaustion washing over you. The clock reads 11:00 PM, and the events of the day replay in your mind. As you close your eyes, the memory of Jaehyun's gaze lingers, his aura still imprinted on your thoughts. 𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘢 𝘥𝘢𝘺, you think before sleep finally takes over.

As the first rays of sunlight stream through the window, the city of Tokyo greets you with its vibrant energy. The skyline glimmers in the morning light, and the soft hum of life beyond the glass is an invitation to explore. You rise from bed, the anticipation of the day ahead fueling your movements. After a refreshing shower, you sit down to do your makeup, blending each product with care. With a final touch of lip gloss and a spritz of perfume, you step into your chosen outfit—a look that balances comfort with a touch of chic, perfect for a day of adventure.

The taxi ride to the“ 𝐏𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭 𝐁𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐬 𝐂𝐚𝐟é” is short, and as you step out, the sight of the charming storefront immediately catches your eye. The exterior is adorned with pastel colors, delicate flower boxes, and a small sign featuring an animated kitten sipping coffee. Inside, the atmosphere is warm and inviting. The scent of freshly brewed coffee and pastries fills the air, and soft music plays in the background. Kittens roam freely, their playful meows and tiny paws tapping against the wooden floors creating a cheerful symphony. One kitten-a fluffy orange tabby-climbs onto your lap as you sip your latte, purring contentedly as you stroke its soft fur. The café feels like a tiny slice of heaven, and for a moment, time seems to slow as you enjoy the calming presence of the kittens.

After leaving the café, you take to the streets, the lively energy of Tokyo's pedestrians surrounding you. The makeup store you visit is sleek and modern, its shelves stocked with products in every shade imaginable. You pick up a few items that catch your eye before heading to the anime store. The anime store is a bustling hub of excitement, with shelves lined with figurines, posters, and collectibles from every fandom you can think of. The atmosphere is electric, and you can't help but smile as you pick up a few items to add to your collection.

As the sun begins to set, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink, you make your way back to the hotel. The streets are still alive with activity, but a sense of calm begins to settle over the city. Once in your room, you take a quick shower, letting the warm water wash away the day's adventures. Standing in front of the mirror, you redo your makeup with precision, opting for a bold lip and a sultry smoky eye. You select an outfit that exudes confidence-stunning, elegant, and with just the right amount of allure. The dress hugs your figure perfectly, and paired with sleek heels and sparkling jewelry, you feel ready to own the night.

The taxi ride to “𝐋𝐮𝐧𝐚'𝐬 𝐆𝐥𝐨𝐰 𝐁𝐚𝐫“ is a short one, and as you step out, the neon-lit exterior of the bar catches your eye. The energy of the night is palpable, and you can already hear the faint beat of music as you approach the entrance. With the promise of an unforgettable evening ahead, you step inside, ready to see what Tokyo's nightlife has in store.The interior of “𝐋𝐮𝐧𝐚'𝐬 𝐆𝐥𝐨𝐰 𝐁𝐚𝐫” is sleek and modern, with an ambient glow that feels almost otherworldly. Neon lights in hues of violet and blue illuminate the walls, while the polished marble bar reflects the soft lighting, creating an inviting atmosphere. The sound of soft jazz mixed with a subtle electronic beat fills the space, adding a sophisticated yet relaxed vibe.

You make your way to the bar, catching the attention of the bartender. "𝘼 𝙢𝙖𝙩𝙘𝙝𝙖 𝙝𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙗𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙥𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙚," you say with a smile. The bartender nods, moving efficiently to craft your drink. As the glass is set before you, its vibrant green hue catches the light, and the subtle aroma of earthy matcha and citrus fills the air. You take a seat at the bar, sipping the cocktail slowly. The flavor is rich and refreshing, the smooth bitterness of the matcha balanced perfectly with the fizz of soda and the warmth of the whiskey. As you sip your drink, you take in the scene around you. The bar is a mix of locals and travelers, each group engrossed in their own conversations or enjoying the music. You notice a couple sharing a laugh at a nearby table, while a group of friends raises their glasses in a lively toast. The atmosphere feels electric, yet intimate.

Just as you finish the last sip of your drink, your eyes catch sight of a tall figure on the other side of the bar. His style immediately stands out—a black satin button-up, tailored dress pants, and leather platform shoes that give him an effortlessly stylish aura. He moves with an understated confidence, placing his order with a calm demeanor. As he turns slightly to take in the bar, your breath catches in your throat. 𝘕𝘰 𝘸𝘢𝘺… It's Jaehyun. Your thoughts race as you process the moment.

𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘥𝘥𝘴? 𝘋𝘪𝘥 𝘧𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴𝘭𝘺 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘥𝘳𝘰𝘱 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦? Your heart beats faster as you glance down at your compact mirror, quickly checking your reflection. 𝘖𝘬𝘢𝘺, 𝘥𝘦𝘦𝘱 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩. 𝘐 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥. 𝘐'𝘷𝘦 𝘨𝘰𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴. You say to yourself.

Summoning your courage, you rise from your seat and make your way toward him. He's standing near the edge of the bar, holding his drink with one hand and gazing around the room with a thoughtful expression. His profile is striking, the soft light accentuating the sharp lines of his jaw and the slight curl of his lips.

You step closer, your heels clicking softly against the floor. "𝙒𝙚𝙡𝙡, 𝙬𝙚𝙡𝙡, 𝙬𝙚𝙡𝙡," you say in a teasing tone as you come to stand beside him.

"𝙄𝙛 𝙄 𝙙𝙞𝙙𝙣'𝙩 𝙠𝙣𝙤𝙬 𝙖𝙣𝙮 𝙗𝙚𝙩𝙩𝙚𝙧, 𝙡'𝙙 𝙨𝙖𝙮 𝙮𝙤𝙪'𝙧𝙚 𝙤𝙛𝙛𝙞𝙘𝙞𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙮 𝙛𝙤𝙡𝙡𝙤𝙬𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙢𝙚 𝙣𝙤𝙬."

At the sound of your voice, Jaehyun turns, his expression shifting from curiosity to recognition.

His dark eyes widen slightly, and then a slow, charming smile spreads across his face. "𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝙖𝙜𝙖𝙞𝙣," he says, his tone low and smooth, as if he's genuinely pleased to see you.

His gaze flickers briefly over you, taking in your outfit with subtle appreciation before meeting your eyes again. There's a hint of amusement in his expression, but also something deeper, as if he's just as surprised by this encounter as you are.

"𝙄 𝙜𝙪𝙚𝙨𝙨 𝙏𝙤𝙠𝙮𝙤 𝙞𝙨𝙣'𝙩 𝙖𝙨 𝙗𝙞𝙜 𝙖𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙮 𝙨𝙖𝙮," he adds with a soft chuckle, lifting his glass slightly in a casual gesture. "𝙊𝙧 𝙢𝙖𝙮𝙗𝙚 𝙄 𝙟𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙝𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙖 𝙠𝙣𝙖𝙘𝙠 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙛𝙞𝙣𝙙𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙮𝙤𝙪."

You feel the heat rise in your cheeks, but you manage to keep your composure. His presence is magnetic, and the playful energy between you feels like a spark waiting to ignite.

Feeling a warm rush of confidence-whether from the liquor coursing through your veins or the magnetic energy Jaehyun seems to exude-you decide to give him a compliment. "𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸," you say as you lean closer, "𝘐 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘪𝘧 𝘪𝘵'𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘰𝘳 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘳𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘦𝘹𝘵𝘳𝘢 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘦 𝘵𝘰𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵." Jaehyun's smile widens, his dimples showing faintly. "𝙄𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙨𝙤?" he replies, his tone teasing but warm. "𝙒𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙝𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙗𝙚𝙚𝙣 𝙙𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙤𝙣𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩? 𝙇𝙚𝙩 𝙢𝙚 𝙜𝙚𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙖𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙤𝙣𝙚." You nod, your confidence buoyed even more by his attention. He waves over the bartender, ordering another matcha highball for you and a whiskey neat for himself.

Settling into the seat beside him, you feel the warmth of his presence. The music hums softly in the background, and the bar's cozy atmosphere makes it easy to relax. As you sip your drinks, Jaehyun brings up your encounter at the airport, his voice laced with a subtle fondness. "𝙄 𝙝𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙩𝙤 𝙖𝙙𝙢𝙞𝙩,' he says, "𝙄'𝙢 𝙖𝙘𝙩𝙪𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙮 𝙜𝙡𝙖𝙙 𝙩𝙤 𝙨𝙚𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙖𝙜𝙖𝙞𝙣. 𝙄 𝙙𝙞𝙙𝙣'𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙠 𝙡'𝙙 𝙧𝙪𝙣 𝙞𝙣𝙩𝙤 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚."

You smile, feeling your heart flutter. "𝙃𝙤𝙣𝙚𝙨𝙩𝙡𝙮, 𝙄'𝙢 𝙜𝙡𝙖𝙙 𝙩𝙤𝙤," you reply.

"𝙏𝙤𝙠𝙮𝙤 𝙛𝙚𝙚𝙡𝙨 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙣 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚 𝙚𝙭𝙘𝙞𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙣𝙤𝙬." The two of you laugh and chat, your conversation flowing effortlessly. Every now and then, your eyes meet, and for a moment, the rest of the bar seems to fade away. There's a silent exchange in those lingering glances, a mutual understanding that neither of you wants this moment to end.

After a couple more drinks, you can feel the effects settling in. The world feels lighter, your inhibitions slipping away. At one point, you make a small, clumsy gesture- giggling at your own joke. Jaehyun chuckles softly, his eyes crinkling with genuine amusement. "𝙔𝙤𝙪'𝙧𝙚 𝙨𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙚𝙡𝙨𝙚," he says, his voice tinged with affection. The night feels like it's just beginning, yet you've already lost track of time. On his call, Jaehyun suggests leaving the bar, and you agree. He settles the tab with a quiet efficiency, then turns to you with a smile. "𝙇𝙚𝙩'𝙨 𝙜𝙤," he says, his voice gentle but firm.

As you step outside, the crisp Tokyo air greets you, a refreshing contrast to the warm atmosphere of the bar. The city buzzes softly around you, the neon lights reflecting off the damp pavement. You feel a mix of emotions- giddiness from the drinks, excitement from Jaehyun's presence, and a nervous thrill about where the night might lead.Jaehyun calls for a taxi, his movements smooth and assured. You follow his lead, feeling a flutter of nerves but also a deep sense of trust. The ride through Tokyo is mesmerizing. The city glows with life, its streets bustling even late at night. The taxi glides past towering skyscrapers, traditional lantern-lit alleyways, and sleek modern buildings, all blending into the unique tapestry of Tokyo's charm.

When you arrive at his hotel-“𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙃𝙞𝙠𝙖𝙧𝙞 𝙎𝙪𝙞𝙩𝙚𝙨”— its exterior is striking, with sleek glass panels reflecting the city lights. The lobby is equally impressive, with polished marble floors, an artful arrangement of plants, and a warm, inviting glow. Jaehyun leads you to the elevator, and as the doors close, you lean slightly against the wall, feeling the world spin just a little faster than usual. Despite the lightheadedness, you can't help but smile. The atmosphere feels surreal, like a dream you don't want to wake up from. Jaehyun stands beside you, his calm presence grounding you even as your heart races.

When you step into his room, a sense of intimacy washes over you. The space is modern and elegant, with floor-to-ceiling windows offering a breathtaking view of the Tokyo skyline. The lights of the city twinkle like stars, casting a soft glow into the room. You feel a mix of emotions-excitement, nervousness, and curiosity. The lingering effects of the drinks make everything feel heightened, but there's also a warmth in Jaehyun's gaze that puts you at ease. "𝙈𝙖𝙠𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧𝙨𝙚𝙡𝙛 𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙩𝙖𝙗𝙡𝙚," he says softly, his voice carrying a quiet reassurance. You glance around the room, taking in the minimalist decor and the inviting king-sized bed. Despite the whirlwind of the evening, you feel a sense of calm. 𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭𝘴 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵, you think to yourself, letting the moment settle over you.

The plush couch in the living room catches your eye, its soft fabric looking impossibly inviting. You slip off your shoes by the door, a small act that helps ground you as the world around you still feels like it's spinning just a little too fast. Making your way to the couch, you sink into its comfort, letting out a soft sigh of relief. For the first time in hours, you feel steady again. Glancing over at Jaehyun, you watch as he approaches you with an easy confidence. His black satin shirt catches the soft light of the room, accentuating the sharp lines of his broad shoulders. There's something almost magnetic about the way he moves-unhurried, yet purposeful. His gaze meets yours briefly, and the faintest smile tugs at his lips as he takes a seat next to you.

Jaehyun breaks the silence, his voice low and warm. "𝘼𝙧𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙝𝙪𝙣𝙜𝙧𝙮?" he asks, tilting his head slightly. You nod, realizing just how much you need something to soak up the lingering effects of the drinks. He pulls out his phone, scrolling through a food delivery app called “𝑩𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒐𝑩𝒊𝒕𝒆𝒔”. Together, you browse the options, eventually landing on a Japanese-style fast-food restaurant called “𝒀𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒚 𝑻𝒐𝒌𝒚𝒐”.

You settle on a cheeseburger with waffle fries, and Jaehyun opts for a small pizza. The simplicity of the meal feels perfect for your current state, and you can't help but smile as you thank him in a playful, almost bashful way. "𝙔𝙤𝙪'𝙧𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙗𝙚𝙨𝙩," you say, your voice light and teasing. He chuckles softly, his eyes crinkling with amusement. As you wait for the food, the two of you fall into easy conversation. You talk about the bar, sharing your thoughts on the atmosphere and the drinks, and then the conversation naturally drifts to Tokyo. You swap itineraries, both of you excitedly listing places you want to visit. His enthusiasm is contagious, and you find yourself leaning closer as you talk, completely captivated by his energy.

When the doorbell rings, the two of you share a glance, excitement flickering in your eyes. "𝙏𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙢𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙗𝙚 𝙞𝙩," Jaehyun says, standing to answer the door. His movements are unhurried but confident, and you notice the subtle grace in the way he carries himself. As he opens the door, he exchanges a polite thank you with the delivery person, his voice smooth and composed. Jaehyun returns to the living room, balancing the takeout bags with ease. He places them on the coffee table with a casual elegance that you can't help but admire. There's something captivating about even his smallest actions, and for a moment, you find yourself watching him with a soft smile.

Jaehyun sits down next to you, pulling up Netflix on the TV. "𝙔𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙥𝙞𝙘𝙠," he says, handing you the remote. Not wanting to dwell too long on a choice, you select

“𝑨𝒗𝒂𝒕𝒂𝒓: 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑾𝒂𝒚 𝒐𝒇 𝑾𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒓.” The vibrant adventure feels like the perfect backdrop for the cozy, intimate moment. As the movie begins, you both dig into your food. The first bite of your cheeseburger is blissful, the juicy flavors mingling perfectly with the crispy, golden waffle fries. Each bite feels like a remedy for your tipsiness, grounding you further with every satisfying taste. Jaehyun eats his pizza with a relaxed ease, occasionally glancing at you with a faint smile. The two of you share quiet comments about the movie, laughing at light moments and exchanging knowing glances during the action-packed scenes. There's an undeniable comfort between you, a sense that this night is unfolding exactly as it should.

As the movie plays on, Jaehyun reaches out, his hand brushing against yours in a gesture so casual yet deliberate that it sends a warm, calming wave through you. His fingers curl gently around yours, giving them a light squeeze as he shifts slightly closer. The simple act is so tender, so genuine, that it feels as though the world around you melts away. Feeling an unexpected surge of trust and comfort, you lean into him, resting your head lightly against his shoulder. He adjusts instinctively, wrapping an arm around you in a way that feels protective and natural, his fingers grazing your upper arm in soothing strokes. A small smile tugs at your lips as you let yourself sink into the warmth of his embrace.

The thoughts in your head swirl between disbelief and delight. 𝘏𝘰𝘸 𝘥𝘪𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘯? 𝘏𝘰𝘸 𝘥𝘪𝘥 𝘐 𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘶𝘱 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦, 𝘴𝘯𝘶𝘨𝘨𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘶𝘱 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘮𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘮𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘰𝘰 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘧𝘦𝘤𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭? His presence feels like a cocoon, safe yet thrilling. Jaehyun's body language is relaxed yet attentive, his hand gently tracing absentminded patterns along your arm. His voice, soft and low, breaks the comfortable silence. "𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝙠𝙣𝙤𝙬," he begins, tilting his head slightly to glance at you, "𝙮𝙤𝙪'𝙧𝙚 𝙢𝙖𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙞𝙩 𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙮 𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙙 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙢𝙚 𝙩𝙤 𝙛𝙤𝙘𝙪𝙨 𝙤𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙢𝙤𝙫𝙞𝙚 𝙧𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙣𝙤𝙬."

The words, paired with the playful glint in his eyes, make your heart skip a beat. His flirtation is subtle but undeniable, and it pulls a quiet laugh from you. You feel a warmth bloom in your chest, a mixture of shyness and excitement. "𝙊𝙝, 𝙖𝙢 𝙄?" you tease back, but your voice is barely above a whisper, as if afraid to break the spell of the moment.

As the movie winds down, the two of you remain entwined, your bodies comfortably pressed against each other. The end credits roll on the screen, but you can't focus on them. Your thoughts wander instead. 𝘐𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘢𝘯 𝘦𝘯𝘥? 𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘰 𝘶𝘯𝘦𝘹𝘱𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘥, 𝘺𝘦𝘵 𝘴𝘰 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘧𝘦𝘤𝘵. 𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘸? You glance up at Jaehyun, only to find that he's already looking at you. His gaze is soft yet intent, as though he's contemplating something. The air between you feels charged, like the quiet anticipation before a thunderstorm.

"𝙎𝙩𝙖𝙮," he says suddenly, his voice barely above a whisper. There's a hint of hesitation in his tone, as though he's unsure how you'll respond, but his eyes hold a quiet plea.

"𝙎𝙩𝙖𝙮 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙣𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙢𝙚."

His words send a shiver through you-not from nerves, but from the way they feel so genuine, so earnest. You bite your lip, glancing down for a moment before meeting his gaze again. "𝙄'𝙙 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩," you reply softly, your voice tinged with shyness but filled with warmth.

The way his face lights up at your response makes your heart flutter. His lips curve into a slow, genuine smile, and his hold on you tightens just slightly, as though he doesn't want to let go. "𝙂𝙤𝙤𝙙," he says simply, his voice deep and filled with something unspoken, his eyes lingering on you with a mixture of relief and something deeper. Jaehyun's hand moves to gently brush a stray strand of hair from your face, his touch featherlight. "𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝙝𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙣𝙤 𝙞𝙙𝙚𝙖 𝙝𝙤𝙬 𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙥𝙮 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙢𝙖𝙠𝙚𝙨 𝙢𝙚," he murmurs, his tone playful but laced with sincerity. His body language is open, his gaze unwavering as he looks at you like you're the only person in the world. You smile, feeling a rush of warmth and security in his presence. The moment feels like the perfect continuation of a night that's been nothing short of magical, leaving you wondering just what other surprises the hours ahead might hold.

A fleeting thought interrupts the cozy moment, and you glance up at Jaehyun shyly. "𝙄... 𝙄 𝙙𝙤𝙣'𝙩 𝙝𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙖 𝙩𝙤𝙤𝙩𝙝𝙗𝙧𝙪𝙨𝙝 𝙤𝙧 𝙢𝙖𝙠𝙚𝙪𝙥 𝙧𝙚𝙢𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙧," you confess, your voice barely above a whisper. His expression softens, and a reassuring smile graces his lips.

"𝘿𝙤𝙣'𝙩 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙧𝙮," he says, pulling out his phone. "𝙄'𝙡𝙡 𝙤𝙧𝙙𝙚𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙢 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙮𝙤𝙪. 𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙫𝙚𝙣𝙞𝙚𝙣𝙘𝙚 𝙨𝙩𝙤𝙧𝙚𝙨 𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙝𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙮𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙮𝙤𝙪'𝙡𝙡 𝙣𝙚𝙚𝙙."

His effortless thoughtfulness fills you with warmth, and you can't help but admire him as he places the order. The way he's so considerate of even the smallest things makes you feel cared for in a way you’re not used to. "𝙏𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙠 𝙮𝙤𝙪," you say softly, your voice carrying more gratitude than the words alone could convey. You can feel your cheeks warm, and you offer him a shy smile, silently appreciating how much effort he's putting into making you feel comfortable. As you both tidy up the remains of the meal, a knock at the door signals the arrival of your items. Jaehyun gracefully strides to meet the delivery man, his movements calm and confident. He thanks him and turns back toward you, carrying the bag with a small, satisfied smile. "𝙃𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙜𝙤," he says, his voice warm as he hands you the bag. His expression is gentle, almost proud, and you feel a fresh wave of appreciation for his attentiveness.

"𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝙘𝙖𝙣 𝙨𝙝𝙤𝙬𝙚𝙧 𝙛𝙞𝙧𝙨𝙩," he offers, already placing a clean towel in the bathroom for you. Before you step inside the bathroom , a new thought hits you-“𝘭 𝘥𝘰𝘯’𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘱𝘢𝘫𝘢𝘮𝘢𝘴!” You say to yourself. Before you can say anything, Jaehyun calls out, "𝙄'𝙡𝙡 𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙤𝙛 𝙢𝙮 𝙏-𝙨𝙝𝙞𝙧𝙩𝙨 𝙞𝙣 𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙩𝙤 𝙬𝙚𝙖𝙧 𝙩𝙤𝙣𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩."

His offer makes your heart skip a beat. The idea of wearing his shirt feels oddly intimate, and you can't help but smile to yourself. "𝙏𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙠 𝙮𝙤𝙪," you reply cutely, the shyness in your tone belying how flustered you feel.

As the warm water cascades over you, your thoughts race. 𝘏𝘰𝘸 𝘥𝘪𝘥 𝘐 𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘶𝘱 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦? 𝘏𝘰𝘸 𝘪𝘴 𝘑𝘢𝘦𝘩𝘺𝘶𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘷𝘦? The events of the day play back in your mind like a dream-your chance encounters, the easy conversations, the laughter, and now this. A soft smile spreads across your face as you realize how comfortable you feel around him, like you both known each other much longer than just a day.The thought of putting on his shirt makes your stomach flutter. 𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘯? You wonder, a mix of excitement and nervousness washing over you. Despite the swirling emotions, you feel undeniably safe, as though this night was meant to unfold just as it has.

Stepping out of the shower, you pull Jaehyun's T-shirt over your head. The fabric is soft, the faint scent of his cologne lingering in the threads. It feels warm and smells masculine, like cedarwood and something subtly sweet, a scent that instantly makes you feel wrapped in his presence. The shirt hangs loosely on you, the oversized fit brushing against your thighs, and you can't help but blush as you catch your reflection in the mirror. Seeing yourself in his shirt feels surreal, almost too intimate for someone you’ve only just met. Your cheeks now flushed as you press your lips together, trying to steady the butterflies in your stomach. You step out of the bathroom hesitantly, the sound of your bare feet against the floor making you hyperaware of your every movement. Jaehyun is seated on the couch, scrolling through his phone, but as if sensing your presence, he looks up. His gaze lingers on you for a moment, and you see his eyes widen slightly before a slow, almost shy smile spreads across his face.

"𝙔𝙤𝙪... 𝙡𝙤𝙤𝙠 𝙜𝙤𝙤𝙙," he says, his voice a touch deeper, as though the words caught him off guard.

His hand moves to scratch the back of his neck, a subtle gesture that betrays his flustered state.

"𝙏𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙨𝙝𝙞𝙧𝙩 𝙨𝙪𝙞𝙩𝙨 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙣 𝙞𝙩 𝙙𝙤𝙚𝙨 𝙢𝙚," he adds, his tone playful yet sincere.

The compliment sends a rush of warmth through you, and you smile shyly, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. "𝙏𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙠 𝙮𝙤𝙪," you murmur, your voice soft but filled with appreciation. The way he's looking at you, like you’re the only person in the room, makes you feel both seen and cherished in a way you can't quite describe.

You stand there for a moment, your cheeks heating up at his compliment. The sincerity in his voice makes your heart race, but you manage to gather yourself as Jaehyun pats the seat next to him, motioning for you to join him. You make your way over, settling beside him on the couch. His arm naturally wraps around you, and you melt into his embrace as his fingers trail gently up and down your arm, a soothing rhythm that makes your heart flutter.

"𝙄'𝙢 𝙜𝙤𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙤 𝙛𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙝𝙚𝙣 𝙪𝙥 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙩𝙖𝙠𝙚 𝙖 𝙨𝙝𝙤𝙬𝙚𝙧 𝙞𝙛 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙙𝙤𝙣'𝙩 𝙢𝙞𝙣𝙙," he says softly, glancing down at you with a small smile. You shake your head, "𝙊𝙛 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙧𝙨𝙚, 𝙜𝙤 𝙖𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙙." He gestures toward the remote, encouraging you to turn on the TV, and you do so, flipping through the channels as he disappears into the bathroom.

As the sound of running water fills the air, you let your thoughts wander. How did this all happen so fast? You think, smiling softly to yourself. “𝘏𝘦'𝘴 𝘴𝘰 𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘵, 𝘴𝘰 𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘷𝘦. 𝘐 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘐'𝘷𝘦 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘦𝘭𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘐'𝘷𝘦 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘮𝘦𝘵 “ You think to yourself. The memory of his playful smirk and the warmth of his embrace replays in your mind, and you find yourself biting your lip to suppress a grin. The TV hums in the background as you scroll absentmindedly through your phone, but you can't focus. Your mind keeps drifting back to him. The water stops, and your heart skips a beat. You sit up a little straighter, preparing yourself for his return, anticipation thrumming in your chest.

When Jaehyun steps out of the bathroom, you can't help but take in the sight of him. He's wearing a fitted black tank top that clings to his body in all the right places, accentuating his toned arms and chest. His black-and-gray pajama pants hang low on his hips, the casual look somehow making him even more attractive.

"𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝙘𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙣 𝙪𝙥 𝙣𝙞𝙘𝙚𝙡𝙮," You tease, your voice light but your gaze lingering.

He smirks, running a hand through his slightly damp hair. "𝙏𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙠𝙨. 𝘾𝙤𝙢𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙛𝙧𝙤𝙢 𝙮𝙤𝙪, 𝙄'𝙡𝙡 𝙩𝙖𝙠𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙖𝙨 𝙝𝙞𝙜𝙝 𝙥𝙧𝙖𝙞𝙨𝙚," he replies, his tone playful but warm. As he approaches, the faint scent of his cologne mixed with the freshness of his shower reaches you, a combination that makes your heart flutter.

Jaehyun settles beside you on the couch, pulling you toward him effortlessly. His arm wraps around you again, and you feel his warmth seeping into you as he draws your close. The tension in the room shifts, soft but charged, like an unspoken connection pulling you both closer. His fingers graze your arm absentmindedly, and you find yourself leaning into him, the feeling of safety and comfort almost overwhelming.

"𝙔𝙤𝙪'𝙫𝙚 𝙗𝙚𝙚𝙣 𝙨𝙤 𝙨𝙬𝙚𝙚𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙢𝙚 𝙨𝙞𝙣𝙘𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙢𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙣𝙩 𝙄 𝙢𝙚𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪," you murmur, your voice soft as you tilt your head to to talk to him. "𝙏𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙣𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙬𝙖𝙨 𝙨𝙤 𝙪𝙣𝙚𝙭𝙥𝙚𝙘𝙩𝙚𝙙, 𝙗𝙪𝙩 𝙡'𝙢 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙥𝙡𝙖𝙞𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜."

His hand moves to your jawline, his fingers brushing against your skin so gently it sends a shiver down your spine. His thumb traces your cheek, and his other hand finds its way to the back of your neck, resting there with a comforting weight.

His gaze locks with yours, his eyes searching your face as if committing every detail to memory. "𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝙝𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙣𝙤 𝙞𝙙𝙚𝙖 𝙝𝙤𝙬 𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙥𝙮 𝙄 𝙖𝙢 𝙩𝙤 𝙗𝙚 𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙧𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙣𝙤𝙬," he says, his voice low and intimate. The sincerity in his tone sends warmth rushing through you, and you can't help but lean into his touch, your heart pounding in your chest.

The room feels like it's holding its breath, the soft glow of the TV casting shadows around you both. Every touch, every glance feels heavier, more meaningful. You can't help but think how surreal this moment is-how someone like him, so kind and thoughtful, could make you feel this way in such a short amount of time. And as his hand lingers on your neck, you know this connection is something you don't want to let go of.

As Jaehyun's hand lingers on your neck, his thumb brushing softly against your skin, your breath catches in your throat. Your heart pounds as if it's trying to tell you something-urging you to close the space between you both. You can't help but wonder what could happen next, your thoughts spinning in anticipation.

And then, without even realizing it, you whisper his name, "𝙅𝙖𝙚𝙝𝙮𝙪𝙣..." It slips from your lips so naturally, so effortlessly, like a secret you’ve been holding onto.

He looks at you with an intensity that sends a shiver down your spine. His gaze is soft yet burning with something deeper, something that makes your pulse race. His hand moves, cupping your jaw with the utmost care, his thumb tracing slow, deliberate circles on your cheek. "𝙔𝙚𝙖𝙝?" he murmurs, his voice low and intimate, drawing you in even closer. It's as if the world around you both fades, the sounds of the TV and the city beyond the window disappearing into nothingness. The tension between you both thickens, heavy but exhilarating, like you’re both teetering on the edge of something inevitable. Your chest tightens, every nerve in your body alive with the electricity of this moment. You can feel the heat radiating from him, the magnetic pull that's drawing you both closer, second by second.

Jaehyun leans in, his movements slow and deliberate, giving you time to stop him if you want to. But you don't. You couldn't if you tried. His lips meet yours in a soft, gentle kiss that sends a wave of warmth through you, igniting every inch of your body. The tender kiss deepens, his lips moving against yours in a slow, sensual rhythm. It's not rushed, not frantic, but deliberate and intimate, as if he's savoring every second. His lips are soft, warm, and they fit perfectly against yours, like they were made for this very moment. Each kiss flows seamlessly into the next, a perfect symphony of passion and connection.

Your hands instinctively find their way around his neck, your fingers tangling in his soft hair. You tug gently, eliciting a low hum from him that sends a shiver down your spine. His hand slides from your jaw to your waist, pulling you closer, and you can feel the strength in his grip, firm yet tender. When you both finally pull back, his eyes search yours, dark and full of something you can't quite put into words. He exhales softly, his lips curving into a satisfied smile. "𝙔𝙤𝙪'𝙧𝙚...𝙖𝙢𝙖𝙯𝙞𝙣𝙜," he whispers, his voice husky and full of admiration. His hand lingers at your waist, his thumb tracing slow circles that make your skin tingle.

"𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝙠𝙞𝙨𝙨 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙬𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙢𝙖𝙙𝙚 𝙩𝙤 𝙙𝙧𝙞𝙫𝙚 𝙢𝙚 𝙘𝙧𝙖𝙯𝙮," he adds with a playful smirk, his confidence and charm only making your heart race faster. His body language is relaxed but charged, his gaze locked on yours as if you’re the only person in the world.

As you sit there, still wrapped in his arms, your mind is a whirlwind of emotions. You feel exhilarated, nervous, and undeniably happy all at once. The taste of his kiss lingers on your lips, and you can't help but wonder how this night turned into something so perfect, so unforgettable. Your fingers stay tangled in his hair, your body pressed against his as if letting go would break the spell.

"𝙄'𝙫𝙚 𝙗𝙚𝙚𝙣 𝙬𝙖𝙣𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙤 𝙙𝙤 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙣𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩," Jaehyun admits softly, his forehead resting against yours.

His words send a rush of warmth through you, and you can't help but smile, knowing this connection is something neither of you could have planned but both of you are glad to embrace.

You can't believe that just happened. Your mind races with a whirlwind of emotions, a mix of disbelief, excitement, and nervousness all wrapped into one. The feeling of Jaehyun's lips on yours lingers, a warmth that refuses to fade. Your thoughts are loud, but one thing is clear: You’re completely captivated by him. As he grips your jawline softly, his touch grounding you, you realize just how intimate this moment truly is. It's late, and the events of the night have left you both in need of rest. You both make your way to the bedroom, and it hits you-you’re about to sleep next to Jaehyun. Even though you just shared a kiss, and you’re literally wearing his shirt, the thought of lying by his side feels so intimate, so surreal. You glance at him, trying to read his body language.

He seems calm, his movements relaxed and deliberate, as if he's completely at ease with you being here.

Jaehyun climbs into bed first, patting the space beside him with a soft smile. "𝘾𝙤𝙢𝙚 𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚," he says gently. You slide under the covers, and he adjusts them around you, making sure you’re comfortable. His sweetness catches you off guard yet again, and your heart swells with appreciation.

As the room lights dim, a peaceful ambiance fills the air. The soft hum of the city outside sets the perfect backdrop as you lay side by side, trying not to let the situation feel awkward. But then, Jaehyun shifts closer, pulling you into his embrace. Your breath catches as your chests press together, the warmth of his body enveloping you. His arm wraps around you protectively, and his gaze holds yours filled with a mixture of tenderness and admiration. You can't help but feel completely at ease, even in the intimacy of this moment. He's so sweet, so charming, and you find yourself admiring every detail about him-the way his lips form a soft smile, the way his fingers trace absentminded circles on your back.

As you cuddle, you both start to chat softly, your voices low as if you’re afraid to break the quiet magic of the room. "𝙏𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙣𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙝𝙖𝙨 𝙗𝙚𝙚𝙣 𝙛𝙪𝙡𝙡 𝙤𝙛 𝙨𝙪𝙧𝙥𝙧𝙞𝙨𝙚𝙨," you whisper, a small smile tugging at your lips. Jaehyun chuckles, his chest vibrating against yours.

"𝙂𝙤𝙤𝙙 𝙨𝙪𝙧𝙥𝙧𝙞𝙨𝙚𝙨, 𝙄 𝙝𝙤𝙥𝙚," he replies, his tone playful but warm. You both talk about everything and nothing-the bar, your favorite movies, and even the small quirks you’ve both noticed about each other in the short time you’ve spent together.

In the middle of the conversation, you feel a sudden urge to kiss him again. Without overthinking it, you lean up and press a soft tender peck to his lips. Your hands find their way to his jaw, your thumbs brushing against his skin as you kiss him sweetly. It's not rushed or demanding-just a simple expression of how much you’re enjoying being close to him.

Jaehyun blinks, slightly surprised but clearly pleased. A smile spreads across his face, and he lets out a soft laugh. "𝙔𝙤𝙪'𝙧𝙚 𝙛𝙪𝙡𝙡 𝙤𝙛 𝙨𝙪𝙧𝙥𝙧𝙞𝙨𝙚𝙨 𝙩𝙤𝙣𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩," he teases, his hand coming up to cup the back of your neck. "𝙄 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙜𝙚𝙩 𝙪𝙨𝙚𝙙 𝙩𝙤 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨." His words make your heart flutter, and you can't help but grin, your cheeks flushing under his gaze.

As much as you want him right now, you know it's best to leave things as they are. You don't want to rush anything, and a part of you doesn't want him to think of you as "just another girl." So instead, you both decide to let the night end on this sweet note. Jaehyun pulls you closer, spooning you with his arm draped firmly around your waist. His warmth is comforting, his steady breathing soothing as you relax into his embrace. You close your eyes, feeling safe, cherished, and undeniably happy. This wasn't what you expected when you started your night, but lying here in Jaehyun's arms, you wouldn't trade it for anything else.

The gentle hum of Tokyo's morning life filters through the hotel windows, accompanied by soft rays of sunlight spilling across the room. You stir slightly, your eyes fluttering open to see Jaehyun lying beside you. His peaceful expression takes your breath away, and you find yourself admiring the way the light plays across his features. As if sensing your movement, his eyes open slowly, meeting yours.

"𝙂𝙤𝙤𝙙 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜, 𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙨𝙤𝙢𝙚," you whisper softly, a sweet smile forming at your lips. Your voice is light, teasing yet sweet.

Jaehyun grins sleepily, his voice low and warm.

"𝙂𝙤𝙤𝙙 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜, 𝙗𝙚𝙖𝙪𝙩𝙞𝙛𝙪𝙡. 𝘿𝙞𝙙 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙨𝙡𝙚𝙚𝙥 𝙬𝙚𝙡𝙡?"

The moment feels so soft, so intimate, that you want to freeze time. As you both wake up fully, the comfortable silence between you both melts into quiet conversation.

Jaehyun props himself up on one elbow, his hair adorably tousled.

"𝙒𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙙𝙤 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙛𝙚𝙚𝙡 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙙𝙤𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙤𝙙𝙖𝙮?" he asks.

You think for a moment, the excitement bubbling in your chest.

"𝙒𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙞𝙛 𝙬𝙚 𝙚𝙭𝙥𝙡𝙤𝙧𝙚 𝙏𝙤𝙠𝙮𝙤 𝙩𝙤𝙜𝙚𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧? 𝙒𝙚 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙜𝙤 𝙩𝙤 𝙖 𝙬𝙖𝙜𝙮𝙪 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙨𝙪𝙨𝙝𝙞 𝙗𝙚𝙡𝙩 𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙪𝙧𝙖𝙣𝙩, 𝙨𝙝𝙤𝙥 𝙤𝙣 𝙃𝙖𝙧𝙖𝙟𝙪𝙠𝙪 𝙎𝙩𝙧𝙚𝙚𝙩, 𝙩𝙧𝙮 𝙖 𝙢𝙖𝙩𝙘𝙝𝙖 𝙘𝙖𝙛é, 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙢𝙖𝙮𝙗𝙚 𝙨𝙚𝙚 𝙬𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙣𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩𝙡𝙞𝙛𝙚 𝙞𝙨 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚."

He chuckles softly, clearly surprised.

"𝘼𝙡𝙡 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩? 𝙎𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙙𝙨 𝙥𝙚𝙧𝙛𝙚𝙘𝙩. 𝙇𝙚𝙩'𝙨 𝙢𝙖𝙠𝙚 𝙞𝙩 𝙖 𝙙𝙖𝙩𝙚."

Hearing him call it a date makes your heart flutter, and you smile shyly before getting up to freshen up. You pull on a pair of his oversized sweatpants, tying them tightly around your waist before heading back to your hotel to get ready. Jaehyun insists on paying for the taxi, his gentlemanly nature once again making you blush.

As the taxi winds through the bustling streets of Tokyo, your mind is a whirlwind of thoughts. You replay every moment of the night before-the kisses, the cuddles, the quiet intimacy you both shared. A warm feeling settles in your chest, and you can't help but smile. This is all so unexpected, but it feels natural, as if Jaehyun and you have known each other for longer than just a day. The thought of spending the entire day with him fills you with anticipation. You can't wait to see him again, to experience Tokyo by his side.

After arriving at your hotel; you shower, do your makeup, style your hair, and pick out a cute yet stylish outfit that screams confidence. As much as you loved lounging in his T-shirt, it feels good to slip back into your own clothes. Once you’re ready, you call Jaehyun to let him know. True to his word, he texts you within 15 minutes, letting you know he's in the lobby.

When you step into the lobby, your breath catches in your throat. Jaehyun looks effortlessly stunning, his black platform shoes, dark gray jeans, and unbuttoned black shirt perfectly complementing his silver jewelry. His small crossbody bag adds a touch of casual coolness to his outfit.

"𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝙡𝙤𝙤𝙠 𝙖𝙢𝙖𝙯𝙞𝙣𝙜," he says, his voice dripping with admiration.

You smile, your cheeks flushing slightly. "𝙔𝙤𝙪'𝙧𝙚 𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙩𝙤 𝙩𝙖𝙡𝙠. 𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝙡𝙤𝙤𝙠 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙟𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙥𝙥𝙚𝙙 𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙤𝙛 𝙖 𝙢𝙖𝙜𝙖𝙯𝙞𝙣𝙚. 𝙃𝙤𝙬 𝙙𝙤 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙢𝙖𝙠𝙚 𝙞𝙩 𝙡𝙤𝙤𝙠 𝙨𝙤 𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙮?" He laughs softly, his eyes lingering on you. "𝙄𝙩'𝙨 𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙮 𝙬𝙝𝙚𝙣 𝙡'𝙢 𝙢𝙚𝙚𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙨𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪.”

The restaurant is a cozy yet modern spot tucked into a lively Tokyo street. The smell of freshly grilled wagyu and the sight of colorful sushi plates gliding by on the conveyor belt create a vibrant atmosphere. You sit side by side, the warm glow of the overhead lights casting a golden hue on Jaehyun's face. As you both share plates of perfectly marbled wagyu and expertly crafted sushi, the conversation flows effortlessly. The connection between you both deepens with each laugh, each glance. You find yourself forgetting about everything else, fully immersed in this moment with him.

Next stop is Harajuku Street. It’s a feast for the senses. Brightly colored storefronts, trendy boutiques, and eclectic streetwear shops line the streets, buzzing with energy. Jaehyun and you explore hand in hand, stopping occasionally to admire quirky fashion pieces or sample street food. The vibe is electric, and you can't help but feel like you’re both part of something magical.

After walking around Harajuku, you were excited to try matcha from a cafè you researched on. The matcha café is a charming little spot, tucked away from the bustling streets. The air smells of freshly brewed matcha, and the minimalistic décor creates a serene atmosphere. You and Jaehyun sit across from each other, sipping on matcha lattes and sharing soft smiles.

As night begins to falls, Tokyo transforms into a city of lights and endless possibilities. Jaehyun and you wander through lively streets filled with neon signs, music, and laughter. You both stumble across a vibrant izakaya where locals and tourists mingle, and later; a rooftop bar with breathtaking views of the city skyline. The energy between you is electric yet comfortable. Every glance, every touch feels like a silent promise of more moments like this. By the end of the night, you know this is a day you’ll never forget.

As the night came to an end, Jaehyun and you stood at the curb, feet sore from hours of exploring Tokyo. The city lights glimmered around the both of you. Neither of you wanted to say goodbye, but you both also didn't want to overstep. The air between you was thick with longing, the kind that made time feel slower and every second feel more precious.

You forced a smile, hiding the ache in your chest. "𝙄'𝙡𝙡 𝙨𝙚𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙨𝙤𝙤𝙣, 𝙧𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩?" You asked, your voice softer than you intended.

Jaehyun nodded, his gaze lingering on you. "𝙊𝙛 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙧𝙨𝙚. 𝙂𝙚𝙩 𝙗𝙖𝙘𝙠 𝙨𝙖𝙛𝙚, 𝙤𝙠𝙖𝙮?"

As your taxi pulled away, you couldn't help but glance back, watching as he stood there, hands in his pockets, until he disappeared from view. The ride back to your hotel was quiet, but your mind wasn't. The thought of parting from him left an emptiness you wasn't used to.

When you arrived at your hotel, your phone buzzed. It was Jaehyun, asking if you’d made it back safely. His care warmed your heart, and you replied, asking if he had too. What started as a simple exchange turned into a late-night phone call, where you both chatted about the day as effortlessly as if you hadn't just spent it together. Hearing his voice brought a sense of comfort, but when you finally said goodnight, it was hard to fall asleep. Jaehyun was on your mind, his laugh, his smile, the way he looked at you. You couldn't help but wonder what this connection meant.

The next morning, you woke up to a quiet phone-no message from Jaehyun. A pang of disappointment hit you, but you quickly texted him instead, wishing him a good day and encouraging him to enjoy Tokyo. The day passed as you followed your itinerary, but Jaehyun and you stayed connected. You sent each other pictures and videos of the places you both visited, voice notes filled with excitement over unique finds, and playful messages about what you guys should've done together. Each night, you ended the day with a call, raving about the adventures you both experienced. This became the routine for the rest of the trip, and it felt like you both were building something meaningful, even from a distance.

When the final day of your trip arrived, you felt a heaviness in your chest. Packing your bags and checking out of the hotel felt like closing a chapter you wasn't ready to end. This trip had been more than just a getaway; it was a whirlwind of unforgettable memories, with Jaehyun at the center of them all. Jaehyun and you texted as you made your way to the airport. He knew you were leaving, and though his flight wasn't until the next day, he wished you safe travels and promised you’d see each other soon. But as you sat at your gate, waiting to board; you couldn’t shake the sadness. Thoughts of him consumed you. This felt like a storybook romance-too perfect to be real.

Boarding began, and you found your seat, a window seat, as the universe would have it. You stared out the window, lost in thought. As you catch yourself and snap back to reality, you glance around the plane. When suddenly… you saw him. Jaehyun. At first, you thought you were imagining things. Your heart skipped a beat as he walked down the aisle, his eyes scanning the rows. When your gazes met, your breath caught in your throat. His expression mirrored yours-surprise mixed with disbelief. Your face must've been a picture of shock, but you couldn't help the way your lips formed into a big smile. He stopped at your row, checked his ticket, and then the seat number.

"𝙔𝙤𝙪'𝙫𝙚 𝙜𝙤𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙗𝙚 𝙠𝙞𝙙𝙙𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙢𝙚," he murmured, shaking his head with a small laugh as he slid into the seat next to you.

You stared at each other for a moment, the weight of the coincidence sinking in. Jaehyun finally broke the silence. "𝙄 𝙝𝙖𝙙 𝙩𝙤 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙚 𝙢𝙮 𝙛𝙡𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙡𝙖𝙨𝙩 𝙢𝙞𝙣𝙪𝙩𝙚. 𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙩𝙤𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙧𝙤𝙬 𝙜𝙤𝙩 𝙙𝙚𝙡𝙖𝙮𝙚𝙙 𝙗𝙮 𝙩𝙬𝙤 𝙙𝙖𝙮𝙨."

You blinked, unable to hide your amazement. "𝙏𝙝𝙞𝙨... 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙝𝙖𝙨 𝙩𝙤 𝙗𝙚 𝙛𝙖𝙩𝙚, 𝙧𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩?"

You say softly.

Jaehyun's hand found yours, his thumb brushing gently over your knuckles. His voice was soft, almost teasing. "𝙍𝙚𝙢𝙚𝙢𝙗𝙚𝙧 𝙬𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙄 𝙨𝙖𝙞𝙙 𝙬𝙝𝙚𝙣 𝙬𝙚 𝙢𝙚𝙩? '𝙎𝙚𝙚𝙢𝙨 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙛𝙖𝙩𝙚'𝙨 𝙖𝙡𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙮 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙞𝙣 𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙛𝙖𝙫𝙤𝙧!’ 𝙄 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙠 𝙄 𝙬𝙖𝙨 𝙧𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩."

The flight back to Seoul was filled with quiet conversations, shared smiles, and the comforting presence of one another. As the plane soared through the sky, you couldn't help but feel that fate had brought you together for a reason.

Maybe this wasn't the end of you and Jaehyun’s story, but the beginning of something much greater. After all, when fate works this hard, who are you to resist?

© cyberlovewiitch 2025 / all rights reserved

“Shut up, bitch,” One of them huffed as he crouched down in front of you. He shoved a dirty rag in your mouth and sealed it in tight with a long strip of duct tape. You scowled at him as he took a step back and used your cell phone to snap a picture of you and presumably send it to Shang-Chi.

 You see him comin’ better cut out on the double.

Hey-la-day-la my boyfriend’s back!

The longer you waited, the more nervous you had gotten and worried that maybe they caught him before he even had a chance to come rescue you. However, suddenly the speakers were blasting music painfully loud in the club. An old song by The Angels began playing and confusing everyone for several seconds before they realized they must have had company.

Your eyes lit up as hope filled you, and suddenly an arrow embedded itself into the ground in front of you, a piece of paper taped to it and bold writing scribbled across it.

CLOSE YOUR EYES!

You shut your eyes quickly and heard glass shatter from the roof above you. Cautiously opening one eye, you caught Shang-Chi, rings on his forearms, looking up from his heroic landing and locking eyes on you. Seeing the condition you were in, bound and gagged to a chair with dried blood running down your nose from your earlier struggle lit a fire in him. His jaw tightened, he took in a sharp breath, and suddenly he was standing upright and launching a devastating fist into the face of one of your abductors, a horrific crunching noise killing your ears.

It was almost comical for someone to see this situation from an outside point-of-view. Your head was going in every direction watching how Shang-Chi took down these men with furious ease, his desire to keep you safe fueling him as he launched someone through the bar, the shelf full of old and dusty bottles shattering and falling down over him.

When not a single person could get up again, Shang-Chi did one final look around to make sure everyone was taken care of. His attention turned to you, and he ran towards you quickly muttering how sorry for all of this he was as he desperately yanked the ropes off of you with one hand, the other one reaching to pull at the duct tape before he stopped just an inch away.

“Hold on a second.”

You huffed and narrowed your eyes as you glared at him.

“Sorry, I’m just enjoying the one time you can’t make a smart ass comment.”

You attempted yelling at him but it all came out muffled and jumbled up, which made him grin slightly to himself as he finished untying you and finally pulled the tape off, “Sorry, babe. You just sound so good that way.”

You quickly pulled the rag out of your mouth as he kneeled in front of you, hands resting on your knees as you turned blood red and smacked his shoulder, “You cannot just get dirty with me like that out of the blue. That is not fair. I was so not prepared.”

He grinned, “It’s one of the few times I could catch you off guard. I had to try.”

“Well, well…well now I’m distracted and flustered,” You pouted while his hands grabbed yours, thumbs rubbing your knuckles in circles as he stared at you.

“Okay, I’m sorry.” He said, still a hint of mischief dancing around in his eyes before his gaze softened and he brought your hands to his mouth to place a kiss between the two of them after bringing them together. “I’m very, very sorry.”

Realizing what he was now referring to, your shoulders sank a little and you nodded, “It’s okay. I knew you’d come find me.”

“Always,” He promised as he helped you to stand. He tutted as his hand held your chin and he examined your nose. “Who did that?”

“The one you sent through a bar,” you explained. “I said his mother should’ve swallowed him instead

“Why?”

You shrugged, “He knocked over our framed photo in my place!”

“You’re right. Silly me, totally a fair reason,” He sighed and looked you over once more, “Did they hurt you any other way?”

You shook your head, “I’m okay. Don’t worry. You saved the day already.”

At that he grinned, scooped you up in his arms, and proceeded to carry you out of there.

“My legs work fine, Shang-Chi,” You chuckled softly.

“I know,” he said quickly. “Just fulfilling my hero role.”

You rolled your eyes, “My hero. I guess I’ll have to thank you later.”

“Please don’t do that in the car,” Katy remarked as her best friend approached with you. “At least wait until you guys are home and not spraying all your liquids on me.”

You snickered, “Sorry, Katy.”

“Yeah, yeah,” She waved her hand. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

“Me too. Was that you with the arrow?”

“Yes. Apparently I was allowed to send that message for you, because Shang-Chi over here wanted to show off and be the hot hero of your dreams today. Honestly, I’m starting to get too much of a glimmer into your sex life. Not sure if I’m amused and want to pocket this as blackmail, or save it for my therapist.”

You sighed and looked over to Shang-Chi who pretended not to know what on earth she was talking about as you three climbed into the car.

“Hey,” you grabbed their attention, “Did you put that song on?”

“What, My Boyfriend’s Back?” Katy asked as she started driving. “Well, yeah. I thought it would be funny for him to have some entrance music. Great pick, right?”

000 000 000

As you got home, you fell onto your bed, exhausted from the long day that has passed, and the excitement of meeting Harry. You lay there thinking about everything that happened today. You couldn't believe you met him, it was surreal. You had been a fan of him since you were young, and you never thought you'd meet him one day.

And he gave you his number! You grinned like an idiot, laying on the bed, lost in your thoughts. You couldn't stop smiling, it felt like there was a spotlight shining on you. Before you could try and go to bed, you felt your phone buzz.

Opening your phone, you laughed as you saw the text that Harry had sent to himself.

Y/N: You free Saturday?

Harry: As a matter of fact, I am! How did you know?"

You laughed again, typing, "Oh, you know, natural instant."

Harry quickly typed back, "Wow, you're a genius then."

You shrugged to yourself, "I guess I am."

Harry typed back, "I'll pick you up at 6 pm."

"6?" You questioned.

"Yes, 6."

"What should I wear?" You typed, biting your lip.

"Something comfortable, maybe even blue. But, you'll look stunning in any color."

You couldn't help but blush.

"Wow, okay, see ya then, Harry."

"Ok, see ya then, gorgeous!" Harry wrote, signing off.