#zerobaseonefics

that's what y/n thought at first, but as questions were constantly asked, she seemed to think about it more than ever. to make it even worse, her best friend wasn't really helpful either.

gyuvin was clingy with everybody. that was his love language, holding someone he cares for close to him and any type of physical touch. he loved watching the reactions of his victim because it brought him slight joy to see them so flustered by his actions.

y/n was used to this since they were best friends after all, but lately it seemed like he had gotten even more clingy to her which only fueled the questions and the beating sound in her chest.

there was something about the way gyuvin would lean in towards her but stop just a few inches away to innocently look into her eyes and make her flustered.

every time he would do this, y/n would find herself staring into his shimmering eyes but her sight would slowly wander down to his lips.

it wasn't like she had a crush on him, gyuvin was her best friend. she was used to being around him and his affectionate side, but it felt different now.

sometimes it seemed like he was enjoying himself whenever the two made any sort of contact, like he wanted to continue for hours on end. something had shifted between the two, but y/n couldn't fully grasp what.

did gyuvin have a crush on her? was that bubbling feeling inside of y/n telling her that she might also have a crush on him? it was all so confusing.

"what'cha doing?" gyuvin's voice had appeared out of nowhere behind y/n, basically feeling his breath on her ear.

y/n proceeded to turn her head, only to be trapped in gyuvin's gaze as their faces were inches away from eachother.

she froze, not knowing what to do or expect next. this had happened so many times recently, she was starting to wonder if it was on purpose.

gyuvin smiled at her innocently, not daring to break the eye contact first before y/n finally turned her head away from him.

"i'm studying, of course," y/n spoke, swallowing back the spit that had gathered in her mouth because of how dry her throat was.

"okaaaay," gyuvin stretched out his words, taking a seat besides y/n as she continued writing down notes from her textbook. "we're still going home together, right?"

"yeah," y/n replied, looking over at gyuvin for a split second to nod and give a slight smile.

"what subject are you doing?" he asked, leaning onto y/n's shoulder to watch over her studies.

"chemistry," y/n answered, trying her best to ignore how close gyuvin was to her even though her heart started beating rapidly once again.

"what part of chemistry?" gyuvin questioned once again, somehow ending up closer to y/n's neck than earlier. gyuvin turned his head to his hers, his nose touching y/n's neck now.

"are you bored?" y/n let out a sigh, watching as he lifted his head off her shoulder, "don't you have anything better to do?"

"and miss the chance to annoy you? never," gyuvin once again leaned towards y/n, giving her his signature innocent smile as he admired her features and details.

y/n had fallen for it again, now she was stuck staring into gyuvin's eyes once again.

it was like she got lost in his beautiful eyes, something so hypnotic about looking at him and his perfect face. never had she met someone with features like gyuvin, he was too good to be true.

so there was no way he would ever like her, right?

"gyuvin..?" y/n spoke up after a few seconds of silence, gulping as gyuvin hummed for her to continue her sentence, "what are we?"

"what do you mean by that?" gyuvin's tilted his head at the question, a slight smirk on his face.

"i keep... feeling like we are something more... than just best friends- maybe it's just me, forget i even said anything," y/n shook her head, beginning to start packing up her belongings, "it was stupid of me to even think that."

"y/n, slow down," gyuvin put his hands in front of y/n's stuff to stop her from packing up any more of her things, "look at me."

y/n looking down at her fingers for a moment, lifting her head up to face gyuvin who cupped her cheeks with a smile on his face.

"i was asking you what you meant, because i wanted to make sure i wasn't dreaming," gyuvin whispered, admiring her face that rested in his palms now, "y/n, i really like you."

"you do?" y/n blinked, unsure of how she felt from hearing those words coming out of his mouth.

"more than you could ever imagine," gyuvin assured, pinching her cheeks before removing his hands from her face, "i'm sorry if i was giving you mixed signals or something, i thought you had caught on earlier.."

"i guess i thought about it more once you kept on doing it," y/n mumbled, feeling flustered by the topic of their conversation, "... so what now?"

"well, what do you want?" gyuvin asked, intertwining his hand with hers.

"... i don't know! ugh, i need to study!" y/n covered her face overwhelmed before turning back to the notebook in front of her, "let me think about it after i finish studying!"

"whatever you say, cutie," gyuvin laughed, resting his face on his palm as he watched y/n stumble with her writing.

"stop looking at me like that!" y/n shouted, her face turning increasingly more red.

maybe, deep down, both of them knew that they would eventually get together. clearly everyone else had already seen it.

the first time you met hanbin, he was all sharp elbows and righteous fury in a body that still hadn’t figured out how to be big yet.

it was recess, late spring, the kind where the sun made the metal slide too hot to touch and the air smelled like cut grass and chalk dust. you were new enough that the playground still felt like a foreign country, standing near the edge of the blacktop with your hands balled into the hem of your shirt, watching groups of kids stitch themselves into little packs. somewhere near the swings, a boy older than you had a smaller kid cornered, voice loud and mean, shoving him every time he tried to move away.

you didn’t think. you just walked over, heart pounding in your ears like it was trying to warn you back into safety, and planted yourself between them with the kind of bravery children only have because they don’t yet understand consequences.

“leave him alone,” you said, voice shaking but steady enough to hold.

the older boy’s eyes slid over to you, amused, like you were a bug that had learned how to talk. he gave you a lopsided grin, “or what?”

you opened your mouth and closed it again, like a fish out of water because you didn’t actually have a plan — when a second figure stepped into your peripheral, quick and decisive, like he’d been moving before his brain even caught up. he didn’t say anything at first; he simply stood shoulder-to-shoulder with you, close enough that the heat of him radiated through your sleeve. his jaw was set, and there was something fearless in the way he looked up at the older boy, like the size difference was irrelevant.

“or i’ll tell,” the boy said finally, voice flat, eyes unwavering. “mrs. lee said she’s watching the cameras now.”

it was a lie, probably. but it landed like truth. the older boy scoffed, threw one last shove toward the smaller kid for good measure, then walked off with an exaggerated swagger that didn’t fool anyone. the moment he was gone, the small kid fled too, disappearing back into the crowd as if the whole thing had never happened.

you and the other boy stared after them for a second, bodies still braced for impact that wouldn’t come. then he looked at you and the tension in his face broke into a grin that felt like sunlight, “that was brave,” he said, like it was the coolest thing he'd ever seen.

you blinked, “you helped.”

he shrugged like it was nothing, like defending people was just what you did when you were him, “you started it. i’m hanbin by the way.”

“i’m y/n,” you replied, finally mustering up a small, genuine smile. 

his eyes turned into crescents as he said, “i think we’re going to be best friends.”

by middle school, your friendship had grown roots.

it lived in the way you saved him a seat without thinking, how he always traded you the better snack from his lunchbox, how you walked home together even when your houses were in opposite directions because neither of you liked the feeling of goodbyes. you knew each other’s moods the way you knew the weather, could read the tilt of his eyebrows or the set of your shoulders like they were language. you were twelve and you thought that kind of closeness was permanent by default.

the day you got your period for the first time, it felt like your body betrayed you.

it happened during fifth period, right when you stood up and felt something wrong, warm and sudden, and the realization hit so hard it made your vision swim. you didn’t check. you didn’t have to. you just knew. you walked faster than you meant to, backpack held too tight against your spine, trying to angle yourself so no one would see what was happening behind you.

but kids notice everything. they notice the way you hold your arms, the way your steps shorten, the way your face goes pale. by the time you reached the hallway, you could feel the heat of humiliation climbing up your neck, tears stinging your eyes as you tried to tug the hem of your hoodie lower, as if fabric could erase evidence.

hanbin saw you and instantly knew something was wrong.

he was at his locker, half laughing about something with another boy, until his eyes flicked to you and the laugh died like a cut string. he didn’t call out your name. he didn’t ask you what was wrong loudly. he simply shut his locker, stepped in front of you like he always had, and said in a low voice meant only for you, “hey, come with me.”

you tried to shake your head, throat tight, “i can’t.”

“you can,” he said, firm but gentle, like he was holding you together with words alone, “trust me.”

you followed him because you always did.

he led you down a back corridor most people didn’t use, past the art rooms and the storage closet that always smelled strongly of bleach, until you reached a bathroom tucked near the auditorium that nobody ever went to unless they were desperate. he pushed the door open, checked quickly that it was empty, then held it for you with the kind of careful respect that made you want to cry harder.

“go,” he said softly, “i’ll stay right here.”

inside, you locked yourself into a stall and stared at the ruined back of your jeans like it was a crime scene. it was so much worse than you’d imagined. you pressed your palm over your mouth to swallow a sob, the kind that came from being twelve and suddenly aware of how cruel the world could be to people.

“y/n?” hanbin’s voice came through the door, muffled but steady. “hey, it’s okay.”

it wasn’t. not to you. not right then.

you opened the stall door a crack, eyes watery, “my pants are ruined.”

hanbin didn’t flinch. he didn’t look away. he just nodded like he understood, like this was serious because you were serious. then he shrugged his backpack off and unzipped it, digging around until he pulled out a pair of gray sweatpants, slightly wrinkled, with his gym class logo stamped on the leg.

“i have these,” he said, holding them out like an offering, “i always keep an extra pair because coach makes us run if we forget. you can—” he swallowed, cheeks pinking as he tried to say it delicately, “you can change. i’ll wait outside. and if you want, we’ll tell the nurse. or we won’t. whatever you want.”

your hands shook as you took them, “what if i ruin them?”

he shrugged again, like it didn’t matter, “i’ll just wash them or get a new pair, i don’t care.”

you stared at him, throat burning, “why are you being so nice?”

hanbin’s expression softened, something small and earnest settling in his eyes, “because you’re my best friend,” he said simply, like the answer was obvious, like there was no other option.

and in that bathroom no one used, with your shame pressed against your ribs and his kindness settling deep into your bones, you learned something about him that would follow you forever: hanbin loved like it was instinct, like he didn’t know how to be anything else.

by time you were sixteen, everything felt like it was happening too fast.

you came over to hanbin’s house for a barbecue the weekend after school let out, the neighborhood thick with the smell of charcoal and sunscreen, the air buzzing with cicadas. his parents had music playing from a small speaker on the patio, something upbeat that floated through the backyard while people laughed and ate and pretended they weren't sweating to death from the first heat wave of the season.

you showed up later than you said you would, and when you stepped through the back gate, hanbin looked up from where he’d been standing near the grill and forgot how to breathe for a second.

it wasn’t that you looked like a different person. it was worse than that. you looked like you — just sharpened, slightly more grown, like someone had quietly turned the volume up on you while he wasn’t paying attention. your shorts were a little shorter than you used to wear. your hair fell in softer waves around your face. your laugh rang brighter, and you didn’t seem to notice the way his gaze caught on every subtle change like it was something he needed to memorize.

“hi,” you said, grinning, and stepped into his space like you belonged there, because you did. you always had.

hanbin forced a smile, “hi.”

you reached out and tugged lightly at the sleeve of his t-shirt, playful, “why do you look like you’ve seen a ghost?”

he tried to laugh but it didn’t sound right in his throat, “i don’t.”

you leaned closer, eyes narrowing like you were studying him, “you’re weird.”

and he was, because something had shifted and he could feel it in the way his heart kept tripping over itself, in the way the world seemed to tilt around you. he watched you move through his backyard, watched you talk to his parents like they were your own, watched you steal a slice of watermelon off the table and eat it with juice running down your wrist, and somewhere between the sunlight and the laughter, it hit him like an omen.

he was in love with you.

not the simple kind of love that lived in childhood friendship, not the easy affection that made you permanent to each other. this was the kind that sank its teeth in and refused to let go, the kind that made him ache for things he felt like he had no right to want.

later that night, after everyone left and the backyard lights were turned off, you ended up sprawled on the hood of his parents’ car with him, looking up at the sky like you always had. the street was quiet, the air was cooler now, and the world felt too big and too still.

you pointed lazily upward, tracing a constellation you spotted, “do you think we’ll always be like this?”

“like what?” hanbin asked, already knowing the answer would ruin him.

“best friends,” you said, soft and sure, “even when we’re old and gross.”

hanbin’s chest tightened around something tender and unbearable. he laughed under his breath, more breath than sound, and stared at the stars until they blurred.

“yeah,” he said anyway, because he would agree to anything if it meant keeping you near, “of course.”

you smiled, satisfied, and rested your head against his shoulder.

hanbin laid there with your weight warming his skin and his heart quietly turning itself into a secret he would carry for years.

prom arrived like a spotlight.

the school decorated the gym in cheap gold streamers and twinkling lights, trying desperately to make adolescence feel magical instead of awkward. for weeks leading up to it, hanbin had thought about asking you in the quiet moments when his brain wasn’t busy with homework or practice or pretending he was fine every time you flushed your pretty smile at him. he imagined walking up to you like it was normal, imagined your smile, imagined the possibility that you might say yes because you always said yes to him.

he rehearsed the words in his head until they felt almost real, ready to finally pluck up the courage to ask you. 

then lunchtime happened.

you found him at your usual table with a brightness in your eyes that made his stomach drop before you even spoke. you slid into the seat across from him like you were bursting with something you couldn’t hold.

“bin,” you said, breathless. “guess what!”

hanbin smiled automatically, because his body had learned that you were joy personified, that you meant good things, “what?”

you didn’t even try to hide it, “matthew asked me to prom.”

the cafeteria noise blurred, like someone had stuffed cotton in hanbin’s ears. he blinked at you, trying to keep his face steady, trying to keep himself from breaking in a room full of fluorescent lights and teenagers.

“the football captain,” you added, grinning wider, like this was the kind of thing you’d dreamed about.

“yeah,” hanbin managed, because his mouth still worked even when his heart didn’t, “i know who he is.”

you laughed, cheeks pink, “i said yes.”

hanbin’s chest tightened into something sharp and unfamiliar. heartbreak, arriving early like it had been waiting for him. he wanted to say something, anything, that might turn the story in a different direction. he wanted to tell you he’d been thinking about asking you, that he’d been practicing the words, that he’d been hoping.

instead, he nodded and made himself smile like a good friend.

“that’s… really great,” he said.

you reached across the table and squeezed his hand, warm and casual, unaware you were pressing on a bruise, “right? i’m so excited.”

hanbin held your hand back because that was what he did, because he didn’t know how to refuse you without giving himself away. he let the feeling carve into him and said nothing.

on the night of prom, you stood in hanbin’s bedroom like it was tradition.

your dress was soft and shimmering, the kind of color that made you look like you’d been painted by moonlight. you turned in front of his mirror, adjusting the straps, smoothing the fabric, nervous in a way that made you seem younger again for a moment.

hanbin sat on the edge of his bed in his suit pants and shirt sleeves, tie undone, watching you with a quiet devastation he didn’t have words for.

you tousled your hair, turned to him, and asked the question that would haunt him for years in different forms.

“do i look okay?”

he stared at you like the answer was obvious, like it was written in the way his throat tightened.

you looked perfect. you looked like something he was never allowed to have, but desperately wanted anyway. 

he forced a shrug, forced the lie that would keep him safe, “yeah,” he said, “you look fine.”

you frowned immediately, “fine? that’s it?”

panic spiked in him, because he’d done it wrong, because he’d hurt you, because he couldn’t even pretend correctly when it mattered. “no, i mean—” he sat up straighter, words tumbling out as he backpedaled, as he tried to make it right without making how he actually felt too obvious, “you look… you look incredible. you look like—like, seriously, y/n. matthew’s going to lose his mind.”

you beamed, relief washing over your face, “really?”

hanbin smiled like it didn’t cost him anything, “really.”

you stepped closer and fixed his tie for him, fingers brushing his collarbone, close enough that his breath caught, “thank you,” you said softly, “i always trust you.”

the words landed like a blessing and a curse.

then the doorbell rang and matthew’s voice floated up from downstairs, loud and eager. you grabbed your clutch, shot hanbin one last bright smile, and rushed out of his room like you were running toward your future.

hanbin sat there in the wake of your perfume and the quiet you left behind, and for the first time, he understood what it meant to love someone who didn’t look back.

the weeks after prom were the beginning of the end of something hanbin didn’t know he was losing.

you and matthew became official in a way that was impossible to ignore. your texts came less often. your weekends filled up. you stopped showing up at hanbin’s house unannounced, stopped sprawling on his bed and stealing his snacks, stopped treating him like the place you always returned to.

you told him about it one afternoon like it was nothing, walking beside him after school as the sun dipped low and turned the sidewalk gold, “so,” you said, swinging your backpack strap, “matthew and i are dating.”

hanbin nodded like he didn’t already know, like it wasn’t obvious in the way your smile kept turning outward toward someone else.

“that’s nice,” he said, the words tasting dull.

you bumped his shoulder playfully, “don’t be weird about it.”

he forced a laugh, “i’m not.”

but he was.

because suddenly, being your best friend meant watching you move away in slow motion. it meant filling the hours you used to spend together with things that felt like substitutes — studying longer, joining clubs, volunteering for extra projects, anything that kept him busy enough not to notice the shape of your absence. he poured himself into academics, into routines, into any version of life that didn’t require him to sit still and think about you.

it worked, sometimes.

until it didn’t.

senior year broke you open in the middle of the night.

hanbin was half-asleep when his phone buzzed, the screen lighting up his dark room. your name flashed like an emergency.

he answered immediately, voice rough with sleep, “y/n?”

your breath came in ragged, broken pulls. you sounded like you were trying not to sob and failing, “bin,” you whispered, and his chest tightened before you even said another word, “i can’t—i can’t do this.”

“where are you?” he asked, already sitting up, already reaching for his shoes. his body moved on instinct, the way it always had when you were hurting.

“outside,” you said, voice trembling. “i’m outside my house. i can’t go in. my mom will hear me.”

hanbin was out the door in five minutes, hoodie thrown over pajama pants, keys clenched in his fist. he drove with his heart in his throat, streetlights stretching like blurred stars, and when he found you on the curb with your knees pulled to your chest, he felt something in him fracture.

you looked up when his headlights hit you, mascara streaked, face blotchy, pain etched into every inch of you.

“hey,” hanbin said softly, stepping out of the car.

you stood quickly and stumbled into him like your body knew him as safety. hanbin wrapped his arms around you automatically, holding you like he could keep you from falling apart if he held tight enough.

“he broke up with me,” you choked out against his shoulder, “he said he didn’t want this anymore.”

hanbin’s throat burned as he guided you into the passenger seat, buckled you in with hands that shook only slightly, then drove with no destination in mind. the city was quiet at that hour, streets empty, the world feeling like it belonged only to the two of you.

after a while, you stopped crying enough to breathe. you stared out the window, voice raw, “i feel so stupid.”

“you’re not,” hanbin said, steady.

you laughed bitterly, “i thought he loved me.”

hanbin’s fingers tightened on the steering wheel. he wanted to say something honest, something that would change everything. he wanted to tell you that love wasn’t supposed to feel like abandonment, that someone who loved you wouldn’t leave you crying like you were. 

he wanted to tell you that he loved you.

the words rose in his throat like they’d been waiting for this moment, like they were finally ready to be released. but then you turned toward him, eyes wet and exhausted, and whispered, “i’m glad i have you. i don’t know what i’d do without you.”

hanbin swallowed the confession so hard it hurt.

“yeah,” he said quietly, voice breaking on the edge, “me too.”

he didn’t say more. he took you for a drive until the sky began to pale, until your breathing evened out, until you leaned your head against the window and finally fell asleep. he drove you home after, carried your heartbreak like it was his responsibility, and told himself again that he could wait.

that loving you meant patience.

college made waiting feel like a punishment.

you got an apartment together because it made sense financially, practically, logically. you were best friends. you trusted each other. you had always been each other’s constant, so of course you would choose to live in the same space when the world got bigger.

hanbin said yes like it wasn’t terrifying.

because living with you meant living inside temptation. it meant seeing you in the soft hours, hair messy, wearing his hoodie like it belonged to you. it meant hearing you hum while you brushed your teeth, watching you dance around the kitchen while ramen boiled, listening to you talk about your day with your feet tucked under you on the couch.

one night, you were eating takeout on the floor because you hadn’t bought a dining table yet, a movie playing on your laptop propped up on a stack of textbooks. you laughed at a joke and leaned back against the couch, eyes bright in the glow of the screen.

hanbin stared too long.

not because you were doing anything special, but because you existed like that — close, warm, familiar — and it made him ache with the kind of love that had nowhere to go. he realized he’d been watching the curve of your mouth, the way your eyes crinkled when you smiled, like he was trying to memorize you in case the universe stole you away.

you turned your head, catching him, “what?”

hanbin jerked his gaze away fast, heart slamming, “nothing. movie’s just dumb.”

you laughed and nudged his shoulder, “you’re dumb.”

and hanbin laughed too, because it was easier than confessing, because he was terrified of ruining the only thing he was sure of: that you’d stay if he didn’t ask for more.

the first party the two of you went to happened on a friday you didn’t want to go to, but you went anyway.

you got drunk faster than hanbin expected, cheeks flushed, laughter loud, words slurring as you clung to his arm in a house full of strangers and sticky floors. hanbin stayed sober, the designated anchor, watching you from a careful distance even as he stayed close enough to catch you if you fell.

at some point, you tugged him into the hallway, away from the noise. your eyes were glassy, wide with something messy and vulnerable.

“bin,” you said, like his name was a plea.

“hey,” he murmured, smoothing your hair back gently, “you okay?”

you nodded too quickly, “i just—” you swallowed, lips wobbling, “you’re so good to me.”

hanbin’s heart stuttered, “you’re drunk,” he said softly, trying to make it gentle.

you stepped closer anyway, hands fisting in his shirt like you needed him, “i know.”

and then you kissed him.

it was clumsy, warm, desperate in a way that wasn’t you. hanbin froze for half a heartbeat, because he wanted it, he’d wanted it for years, then he pulled back immediately, hands firm on your shoulders, breath shaking.

“no,” he whispered, voice rough, “hey. no, y/n.”

your brows knit, confused, “why?”

because i love you. because i’ve loved you. because i’ll take anything you give me and i hate that about myself.

instead, he said, “because you’re not you right now. and i’m not doing this when you're drunk.”

your face crumpled slightly, as if rejection was a language you didn’t know how to translate from him. hanbin’s chest ached as he guided you back into the living room, found you water, coaxed you into sitting, stayed beside you until the night ended.

the next morning, you were hungover and pale, curled on the couch under a blanket with your hair in a messy knot. hanbin brought you toast and painkillers and tried to act normal, like his heart hadn’t nearly come apart in that hallway.

you stared at him for a long moment, eyes heavy with exhaustion and regret, “about last night,” you said, voice small.

hanbin kept his face steady, “you don’t have to—”

“just forget it,” you cut in quickly, embarrassment flaring, “please. i was drunk. i don’t… i don’t want it to be weird. we’re just friends.”

hanbin nodded, even though it felt like someone had pressed a thumb into an open wound, “okay,” he said, “we’ll forget it.”

and he did what he always did.

he swallowed it.

jiwoong arrived like history repeating itself. 

you told hanbin about him on a wednesday morning, breathless in the kitchen while you stirred instant coffee, excitement bright and new in your voice, “i met someone,” you said, smiling like you couldn’t help it, “his name’s jiwoong.”

hanbin’s stomach tightened, a familiar dread settling in, “yeah?”

you nodded, bouncing slightly on your toes, “we’re going on a date.”

that night, you stood in your shared living room in a new outfit, adjusting your hair in the mirror, and asked him the question that always sounded harmless when it came from you.

“do i look okay?”

hanbin watched you — beautiful, hopeful, unaware — and felt the universe line up another omen in front of him.

what was he supposed to say? that you looked perfect? that you always looked perfect? that every time you asked him that, it made him feel like he was standing on the edge of something he would never be allowed to step into?

he forced a smile, one you always believed.

“of course you do.”

you relaxed immediately, accepting the answer like it was safe, like it meant nothing more than friendship, “thanks, bin,” you said, and the way you said it was easy, comfortable, unaware of the blood it drew.

when jiwoong knocked, you rushed to the door, cheeks bright, and hanbin stayed on the couch like a statue. jiwoong complimented you the second he saw you, eyes lingering, voice warm, and hanbin felt sick with jealousy he didn’t have the right to show.

you waved goodbye, then you were gone, and hanbin was alone again, sitting in the quiet you left behind, listening to the apartment exhale without you in it.

a few weeks later, a huge storm rolled in without much of a warning.

thunder cracked open the sky like it had been waiting for an excuse, rain coming down in sheets that turned the sidewalks into rivers. hanbin walked home from work soaked through, hair plastered to his forehead, water pooling in his shoes, and the whole time he cursed himself for not checking the weather.

but it wasn’t really the weather’s fault.

it was yours.

it was because you’d walked out of your bedroom that morning in one of jiwoong’s shirts, the fabric hanging too comfortably on your body like it belonged there, like he belonged there. faint bruises scattered along your neck that you didn’t even bother to hide, as if your happiness was so loud it didn’t care who it hurt.

hanbin had been so flustered by the sight he forgot everything else, including checking the forecast, including grabbing an umbrella just in case.

when he reached the apartment building, his shoes squeaked loudly on the lobby tile. he climbed the stairs two at a time, desperate for warmth, for dry clothes, for anything that felt like relief. at your door, he fumbled through his messenger bag, fingers numb, frustration spiking when the keys weren’t where they should’ve been.

he dug deeper, cursing under his breath, finally finding them at the bottom like they’d fallen down there just to irk him more. he unlocked the door and stepped inside before he stopped dead.

there you were on the couch, straddling jiwoong with nothing but that same shirt from this morning, head thrown back while jiwoong kissed along your jaw, hands gripping your hips like he had every right. your laugh was breathy, your eyes half-lidded, your body moving like you were exactly where you wanted to be.

hanbin stood there, drenched, silent, invisible. then, wordlessly, he closed the door, the click of the latch sounding too final.

he turned around, walked back down the stairs, through the lobby, and out into the rain again, as if he could outrun the image burning into the backs of his eyelids. he found a bench with no cover and sat like he deserved the punishment, letting the downpour soak him deeper, letting the cold seep into his bones until it matched the feeling in his chest.

people hurried past with umbrellas, glancing at him like he was insane, but hanbin didn’t care. nothing mattered; not the rain, not his ruined clothes, not the way his heart felt like it was splitting in two.

he sat there with his hands in his hair and realized, with a sick sort of clarity, that he was becoming a background character in a story that used to belong to him too.

a few days later, you asked him to hang out.

you said you missed him, said you hadn’t seen much of him lately, and your voice sounded so genuine that hanbin almost believed the ache would be worth it. you made it a quiet night, just you two, curled on the couch with a show playing, snacks spread across the coffee table like you were trying to recreate something familiar.

hanbin laughed when you laughed. he nodded when you talked. he pretended he hadn’t been unraveling all week.

against his better judgment, he asked, “how have things been with you and jiwoong?”

your eyes lit up instantly, like you’d been waiting for permission. you talked and talked, words spilling out about how good he was, how sweet he was, how easy everything felt. hanbin let you, because what else could he do? because he’d trained himself to be the person who listened.

then you said it, sudden and bright and devastating.

“i think i love him, bin.”

hanbin felt something go quiet inside him, like a light switching off. he blinked, stared at you, and managed only, “oh.”

your expression shifted immediately, hurt blooming fast, “is that really all you have to say? i wanted you to be supportive.”

hanbin’s mouth moved before his brain could stop it, “i really don’t know what to say, y/n,” he answered truthfully, then, reckless with pain, “i mean, don’t you think it’s a little early? it's been less than a month.”

you scoffed, defensive and offended, “i don’t understand why you’re being so judgmental.”

“that’s not what i meant,” hanbin said, pinching the bridge of his nose like he could press the emotion back into its box, “i think i’m just gonna take a walk.”

he left before you could stop him, shoes on, door closing, the night air sharp and crisp against his skin. he walked until his lungs burned, until the darkness felt like a friend, until he ended up in a small park a few blocks down and sat on a bench with his hands clenched together, trying to find a version of himself that didn’t love you this much.

your texts came in fast and furious, demanding explanations, hurt and confusion bleeding through every message. hanbin stared at the screen until his eyes stung, then finally typed what you needed to hear because he always gave you what you needed.

i’m sorry. i didn’t mean it like that. i’m happy for you.

even though he wasn’t.

when he went back to the apartment later, the lights were off except the faint glow under your bedroom door. hanbin stood in the hallway for a long time, heart hammering, before he lifted his hand and knocked softly.

“y/n?” he called, voice low.

the door opened after a pause, and you stood there in an oversized shirt with puffy eyes and tear tracks you hadn’t fully wiped away. the sight of you like that, hurt because of him, made guilt flood his chest so fast it almost drowned everything else.

“hey,” hanbin whispered.

you didn’t say anything at first. you just looked at him, fragile in a way you never usually were. then you stepped back slightly, letting him in. your room smelled like you. the air felt heavy, like it had been holding your sadness for hours.

“i’m sorry,” hanbin said again, because the words were all he had, “i didn’t want to ruin tonight.”

you sniffed, voice raw, “you made me feel stupid.”

hanbin’s throat tightened, “you’re not stupid. i just—” he stopped, because the truth was right there, sharp and ready to slice everything open. i just love you. i just can’t do this. i just want it to be me.

instead, he took a careful step forward and held his arms out, silently asking. you hesitated only a second before stepping into him.

hanbin wrapped you up gently, pressing his cheek to the top of your head, feeling your breath shake against his chest as you cried quietly. he held you like he had when you were twelve and scared and trying to hide stains on your jeans, like he had when you were eighteen and shattered on the curb in front of your house, like he always would, because this was the only way he was allowed to love you.

your hands fisted in the back of his shirt as if you were afraid he’d disappear, “i don’t want to lose you,” you whispered.

hanbin closed his eyes so tight it hurt, “you won’t,” he promised, even though every part of him knew he was the one being lost.

he stayed there with you for a long time, rocking slightly, letting your tears soak into his shirt, letting your pain become something he could carry if it meant you didn’t have to carry it alone. and while you softened against him, while you breathed and calmed and trusted him, hanbin took every feeling he had — every jealous thought, every longing, every confession that had ever tried to climb out of his throat — and shoved it down into a neat little box as best as he could, sealing it shut with his own ribs.

hanbin suddenly looked up and met your eyes. you tried to keep your cool and returned to your book. but before you realized, he was chuckling and putting away his phone.

“do you want some ice cream? or something cold to drink?” he asked softly, voice low and calm. you shook your head no.

hanbin scanned your face and rolled over to your side. he accidentally nudged your arm that was holding the book, causing it to drop onto the mattress.

“good because i didn’t actually feel like standing up” he grinned and looked up at your profile before grabbing his phone again. now he was just closer to you. one of his arms went to rest under his head, flexing the muscles.

another sigh left your lips upon eyeing his tattoo.

“it’s so hot…” you mumbled and put the book on the nightstand, shaking your head.

hanbin just hummed lazily in agreement, eyes glued to his screen watching some hamster content. you bit the inside of your cheek and suddenly turned. he thought you were just shuffling around to fix your position but was taken aback when you straddled him.

“nooo, get off, it’s so hooot…” he whined, trying to act offended but fell silent when he felt your hands creep up his sides.

hanbin didn’t even notice when his phone fell out of his hand, focused on your touch. you, on the other hand, didn’t know what possessed you. you looked at his face, flashing him a small smile.

“want me to stop?” you teased, leaning closer to his face. the necklace you had on, which was gifted by him on your 1st anniversary, dangled in hanbin’s face. his eyes focused on it and then flickered to your lips.

raising his upper body, he planted a quick kiss and you felt his smile imprinting against your lips.

“take that as a no” he answered and laid back down, relaxing. his face expression was just full of smugness and you were more than determined to make him flustered.

so you rested your palms flat on his chest, placing painfully slow kisses on his jaw. then, you gradually moved to his neck, not missing a single spot. placing tender kisses on his skin, nibbling occasionally.

“ah, i think i know now what’s on your mind” hanbin chuckled, putting his other hand to rest under his head.

you just shook your head and nuzzled it against his neck, smiling. his hands traveled to your hips, giving them a soft squeeze.

“you were more interesting than the book. take that as a complement” you teased and finally reached his collarbones. placing a tender peck on each clavicle, you backed away and looked him in the eye. the playful smirk was still there.

“i’m not complaining, baby” hanbin hummed. sure, you had kissed and made out plenty of times. or you have also traced his tattoos before. but you never kissed it yet, nor…

hanbin saw the evil spark glinting in your e/c eye and frowned, intrigued.

you leaned in again and first blew some air on his tattoo tauntingly. with a corner of your eye you noticed the goosebumps appearing on his skin. with a smirk, you leaned in and gently kissed the sun, the star, the moon. you felt how his breath hitched and you used that opportunity to press your lips firmly to his skin, also gently biting down. hanbin felt your soft lips and the way your hair almost feather-lightly tickled his exposed skin. when you stopped, only to place a delicate kiss on the sensitive spot, his grip on your hips tightened.

hanbin leaned his head slightly back when he saw you ducking down to his collarbones again. the feeling of your smile against his skin made his heart skip a beat; now he wasn’t sure if the sweating was just the outside heat.

when you leaned away, at first hanbin didn’t even realize. his mind was hazy, unable to focus. only when the emptiness on his collarbones hit him, you were already kissing your way back up to his lips. occasionally nibbling against the previous spots you marked, your hands also slid up and gently grabbed his hot neck. literally hot, warmth radiating off it. then, your eyes met his… and his cheeks glowing with red shade. his pupils blown wide, lips slightly parted and puffed from biting down. and definitely no more track of that shit-eating smirk he had before.

and with a passionate kiss on his plump lips, you were done.

only when you had to breathe for some air, you leaned away and stood up.

“do you want some iced water? you must be thirsty” you grinned and before he could answer, brain taking too long to think of a comeback, you were already off to grab some for him.

and hanbin blinked slowly, his collarbones adorned with colorful love bites.

masterlist <3

⋮ trouble

"Do you know whoI am!!" you shouted, thrashing against the constraints of the chair that bound you. Panic surged through your veins as you struggled, the ropes biting into your skin, but indignation fueled your defiance.

He leaned back, the corners of his mouth curling into a sardonic smile, his eyes glinting with a knowing light. "I am fully aware of your father's identity," he replied, his voice dripping with disdain. "That is precisely the reason you find yourself in this predicament. Your father has been embezzling funds from his position within the government—a fact that is far from a secret."

"My father is no thief!" you retorted vehemently, though a sliver of doubt crept into your own conviction. "He is just doing his job!"

"Ah, is that so?" He leaned in closer, the air thickening with tension. "Then I presume there will be no difficulty in procuring the ransom for your release."

"You motherf—"

"And no," he interjected, a finger pressed to your lips as he secured a piece of tape over your mouth, silencing your protest. "You are far too loud for your own good."

You glared at him, a mixture of disbelief and resentment swirling within you. Who did he think he was, imposing such indignities? But without a word, he turned on his heel and strode out of the room, leaving you seething in silence.

To your astonishment, he returned within a mere thirty minutes, a sense of finality in his demeanor as he approached. With a swift motion, he began untying the ropes that bound you to the chair.

"Changed your mind?" you quipped, a desperate attempt to inject levity into the dire situation.

"Not in the least," he replied, a hint of amusement flickering across his face. "It appears your father has made a rather unwise decision. He will not be paying the ransom."

"What?!" A wave of disbelief crashed over you, the weight of the revelation sinking in. Your father, a man who valued wealth above all else, had abandoned you. You met his gaze, confusion and fear warring within you.

"You're contemplating what fate awaits you next, aren't you?" he asked, his voice low and unsettlingly calm. "Come with me."

“yep,” you respond plainly. 

he awkwardly waits for you to maybe say something else, but when you don’t, he says, “are you available to meet at the library today? so we can get a headstart?”

yeah and did i mention he’s an amazing student? you couldn’t even imagine doing an assignment the day it was assigned, let alone actually do it, but it’s one less thing to worry about in three weeks and your future self will thank you.

“yeah, i can do 3,” you say and he smiles that bright smile that could make your heart flutter.

“alright, i’ll see you then!” he says, and then he’s off. 

you’re left right where you started, sitting at your desk, staring at your phone. you look over at the couple next to you, being way too excited that they got paired together. they’re doing way too much pda for a classroom and it reminds you, once again, that love is weird. not your style.

—

the first time you go to the library is 3 weeks before the due date.

“so which argument should we use? i think guilty would be more interesting to write about, but innocent is probably the easier side to defend.” he says, looking over at you after going over all his papers with that stupid smile again. it’s kind of annoying how immediately likable he is. 

“i don’t care. up to you,” you mumble, getting your laptop setup to write up your guys’ outline. 

he seems discouraged that you’re only responding to him shortly, but he refuses to give up, much to your dismay, “i want you to pick.” he says, small smile this time. his dimple is still visible, of course. 

“fine. we’ll argue that he’s innocent. what’s your email so i can share this doc with you?” you say, looking up at him, making brief eye contact. 

he’s silent for a second, just looking at you. 

and then suddenly it’s like his soul comes back into his body. “oh, sorry,” he says lamely, typing in his email on your keyboard and handing your laptop back you. he gets quiet for a second, and it makes the atmosphere weird and almost tense.

you feel the need to break it, “do you want to write the introduction and then first two arguments and i’ll write the third argument, the counter, and the conclusion?”

he smiles. you don’t even know why he would be smiling right now, but he has this look of fondness on his face, “sure. let’s work for an hour and then take a break. okay?” he says and you nod. 

you pretend not to notice the way he keeps looking at you, opening his mouth like he has something to say, and then giving up on that thought and going back to typing. 

—

“hi bestie,” you say as you walk up to taerae’s usual seat in the library. and there he is as always at this time. he doesn’t even know himself how he got you to show up here everyday (even if you barely did any work. you had finished your parts of the paper a week ago, but keep showing up to accompany him until he was done.) he can’t figure out why you keep showing up but he wont tell you to leave. 

“hey,” he says, not looking up from his laptop. 

“i got you something,” you tell him. he looks up, curious. 

you got him coffee when you got one for yourself, the exact thing he told you he liked last time.

it makes his heart skip a beat. maybe more than one.

—

“do you believe in ghosts?” he asks you as you type up a different assignment. the question catches you off guard, and you choose to stop your assignment and humor him for a second. 

“i guess so? why?” 

“why do you believe in ghosts?” he asks.

you laugh breathlessly, considering the true answer that you believe, “it just makes sense that they do. especially if their soul had unfinished business.”

“like what?”

“i dont know,” you shake your head, giggling at his persistence, “maybe they left someone they loved dearly behind, and they have to watch over them.”

loved… to love someone so dearly that you soul won’t rest until they find peace. your peace connected to theirs. how beautiful…

—

“do you ever feel like you’re missing out?” he asks, suddenly. a part of you almost already knows what he means. you were always more similar than you gave yourselves credit for.

“what do you mean?”

“i’ve never been in love. always so focused on music and my studies,” he admits, looking over at you, “am i missing out? it is nice to be in love?”

“well, unfortunately for you, you picked the one wrong person to ask,” you laugh at his defeated face, “ i’ve never been in love and i don’t really think i want to. it sounds lame. like i just wanna love my friends and myself. i don’t think romance is for me.” 

“yeah..? that sounds lonely,” he comments, but you shake your head.

“not lonely, just no one to break my heart.”

—

“if we keep going at this rate,” you say as you walk up to him and pull out your laptop, “we’ll probably only have to come to the library one more time. so this is what it’s like to be a good student.” you laugh to yourself as you sit down. he smiles faintly.

“yeah, for sure,” he says. almost looking down, like what you said upset him in some kind of way. it doesn’t make sense why. why would he want to keep working on philosophy assignments more than they have to?

— 

the supposedly ‘last’ time you go to the library is d-5 from the due date.

“do you really hate romance?” he asks, bringing up the topic again. he seems weirdly hung up on it.

“no, i never said i hated it. just not for me,” you sigh, “i’m not really a people person anyway. there’s no one i’d want to date even if i wanted to be romanced.”

ouch.

—

it’s d-day. a beautiful wednesday.

“hey!” taerae says, catching your attention as you get up to leave class. 

“what’s up?”

“can you meet after your classes today? would 3 work?” he asks, knowing full well you just submitted that paper with both your names on it. it was a+ material, what could be wrong about it?

“why? the project is over,” you say bluntly. he smile falters just a bit, but he catches himself and continues on.

“i… need your help to study,” he says, like he came up with it on the spot. 

‘you need… my help?’ you wanna say, but you don’t. you don’t call him out. 

“okay,” you say, “but i’m not staying long. just long enough to ‘help’ or whatever. see ya, tae.” you get up to go, but his hand stops you, grabbing your arm. 

“hey... uhm.. please come,” he says sincerely. something about this feels deeper than just ‘studying’. his eyes are showing how vulnerable he already feels. 

 “i will, taerae. i promise,” you say, “i'm honestly offended you think I'm gonna stand you up.”

he laughs with a bittersweet smile, “sorry!” as you walk off to your next class.

–

he’s sitting at one of those benches outside the library when you walk up to him. he doesn’t notice you at first, just playing on his phone. he looks so peaceful. 

and then he notices you, and smiles that signature smile, “hey! thank you for coming,” he says.

it’s just a tad bit confusing why he’s so hellbent on the idea that you wouldn’t want to come see him, or that it’s so important that you’re here. 

“i’m taking it that you don’t need help studying,” you smile back at him, and he shakes his head, “didn’t think so. you’re a star student.”

“i try my best,” he says, and you scoff at him. he barely tries. he’s just good at everything (except for math. but that’s math’s fault for being too complicated for him).

you shake your head at him, “okay, what did you wanna do?”

“i actually wanted to tell you something,” he starts. that smile of his fades when he gets anxious. he puts his hands in his pockets to hide how clammy they’re getting. you urge him to continue but he’s struggling to find the words, “i-i’m sorry, it’s hard to talk about.”

“it’s okay, tae, just breathe,”

he frowns, seemingly gaining the courage to say his thoughts, “i- i know this is- this is not what you want to hear because you’ve told me how you’re not romantically interested in anyone and you don’t want a relationship. you’re really clear about that and i respect that.”

he closes his eyes as he braces himself for how vulnerable he’s about to feel. he’s preparing to bare his heart out to you, when he knows you can’t care for it like he needs. 

“and i don’t want to make you feel pressured, but it feels wrong to hide it from you while i monopolize all your time,” he says, lowering his face to hide it from you. you can still see how red his ears are getting though, “i had to go and fall for the one person i couldn’t fall in love with.” he says it more to himself, like a criticism. ‘how could i do something so stupid, so self-destructive?’ he’s probably thinking, "I have feelings for you. i'm sorry."

“taerae…” you whisper, coming closer to try and comfort him, putting your hand on his arm. 

he shakes his head again, looking up with you with those darling eyes that make people fall for him left and right, “and it’s not fair to you, but it’s not fair to me either. you don’t want to be in love? that’s fine. but you can’t go and take my heart and write your initials on it like it belongs to you, and expect me to not feel it pounding in my chest for you. that’s…” it’s ironic that so many people probably have feelings for him and yet he’s here, baring his soul out to you, “cruel.”

his eyes, intentionally or not, are piercing into your soul in turn. it’s like he can see every last piece of your being, and it’s frightening to be that known by someone else. they’re pulling you in like a siren song, making you want to give it a chance, give him a chance. his eyes are doing every last thing to make you his, promising you to only ever be yours, to never hurt you, to always make you happy. 

maybe that’s why you left him there with nothing more than a squeeze to his hand and a “i’m so sorry,”. it was easier than looking into those beautiful eyes and tell him no. easier than watching his heart (with your initials on it) shatter.

—

and so you continue on with life. soulessly, you suppose, but every day keeps coming whether or not you want it to.

you keep checking your phone. it doesn’t even make sense why, because he’s probably too embarrassed and upset to text you. and he has every right to be upset at you right now. you left him when you got scared and haven’t even tried to say sorry, much less give him a proper response since that day. he has every right to be pissed at you.

and the shitty part is you know he’s not. because he’s taerae. because he was never mad at you. not when you bugged him when he tried to study. not when you barely worked during your library meetups. not when you were late and not when you were rude to him when you first had to start working together. 

he’s never been mad at you and you know every time you walk past him, he stops to look at you, hoping you’ll turn around, and the fact that you don’t is breaking him even more. all you know is that if he uses those puppy eyes on you one more time, all your resolve will crack. 

not falling in love was your main goal during college. years of being alone, part by choice and part by circumstance, made it so you felt you were better off by yourself. it’s hard to want other people when you’re not used to feeling wanted, and being in love just seems so scary.

were you in love with taerae? that was the real question, wasn’t it?

because he wasn’t that close of a friend. you had barely known he was more than an npc a few weeks ago, and you didn’t really know him that well. he was an enigma, a being you knew existed but nothing beyond his existence. and he wasn’t particularly charming. he was awkward. he was dorky. he didn't dress that well. he was really passionate about things and those things completely consumed him. he initially seemed like an anti romantic up until now, too focused on his passions and life to even think about love.

but every time he had said a dumb joke, you laughed. every time he tried to impress you with how cool he was, sure, it was kinda dorky, but you were impressed. and when he smiled at you, it felt like the world was okay in that instant. he gave you his jacket when he was cold once, he got your coffee before your study session once, and he cheered you on. 

maybe you did love him, but he must have given you no other option. nothing else you could do besides helplessly watching as he fundamentally changed who you were.

was it so bad to be in love with taerae? he’s beyond kind and has endless good will to give the world. and of course it was scary to be in love, but taerae wasn’t scary. he wouldn’t break your heart, he’d give you peace of mind and comfort. 

—

nothing sways you to talk to him quite like another person trying to flirt with him does. they’re attractive, a little mysterious, and intriguing from the get-go- if taerae’s crush on you was indicative of a type, they’d be his perfect match. 

they’re so clearly into him, you wonder if you looked like that when you hung out with him. maybe passerbys thought you were a couple before you were even friends. 

and he’s so clearly letting them flirt. he’s not making moves, but taerae doesn’t make moves like that. he wants to move slower than that. he doesn’t want to get into their pants, he wants them to romance him. he wants to feel courted. you’re not sure what you did to romance him, or how exactly your attitude made him feel courted. 

and it’s so hard to watch him be flirted with because you were the one who left him there. that could be you right now, but it’s not. taerae is letting someone else flirt with him and letting someone else tell him jokes and smiling that bright smile at someone else. that’s what really hurts. 

but you let them be while you jealously sip your coffee, talking to your friend sitting next to you.

“you need to talk to him,” they say, “you need to tell him about your feelings. even if you’re scared. he deserves honesty and you deserve to be happy.” 

and they’re right. you know they are. friends tend to be right about this kind of stuff.

and it takes all day to build up the courage. the second you think you could do it and make it out alive, you run over to his dorm room. it’s across campus, and you really could have just walked, but that means more time left alone with your thoughts, which is a big no no right now. 

—

it’s early in the evening, but even still you’re grateful that junhyeon took pity on you and took you to his dorm room that he shares with taerae. he left you guys alone to ‘talk’ he says with a smirk. if only you were sneaking in for something fun like that. and not to pour your heart out onto his floor and just hope that he’ll be okay with cleaning up the mess. 

“taerae!” you say as you burst into the room, locking the door as soon as junhyeon annoyingly shouts, “you're welcome!”. he looks up like a deer in headlights from his desk to see you tired, out of breath, holding the door against junhyeon until he gives up. he furrows his brows in confusion.

“what’s going on? are you okay?” he asks, "what's wrong? did someone say something?" he's got this look of protectiveness in his eyes. you wonder briefly if he thinks someone hurt your feelings and you came running to him for comfort. it's charming.

you shake your head, “i made a mistake and i came to fix it,” you say, that look in his eyes coming right back. like you’re back in that moment at the library. like it’s that fateful day again, with light wind in the forecast and pollen in the air. you remember nothing but how beautiful kim taerae looked and how painful it felt to run away. 

“i’m listening..” he says, trying to get you to continue, to say your side of everything, because you’re lost in thought and forgetting that he’s standing right in front of you.

you sigh, thinking maybe it’s best to back out, turning around to try the door. hopefully, junhyeon didn’t put a chair outside to keep you trapped so you could do 'things'. you almost commit to leaving, telling taerae you didn't have anything to say at all. it was easier than facing him. that’s when you see it. 

“what’s this?” you ask, pointing to the new bracelet in his pile of usual jewelry. 

“oh… my friend just got that for me, actually. i don’t think you’ve met that friend yet,” he says.

“was it the friend in the courtyard?” you ask, looking up at him. he can’t decipher the look in your eyes, but he nods. you’re half expecting a ‘how did you know i was in the courtyard?’ but you know he’s not going to pry like that. 

“taerae, i-” you start to say, and he looks up again, that hopeful look in his eyes. if you were a better person, you would have noticed how he looked at you the first time and never, ever let someone hurt him. even yourself. 

but you weren’t that person. you’ll learn to be that person now, though. his pretty smile depended on it. 

“i’m so sorry for leaving you there,” you say, getting right into it, “i’m sorry i never gave you a proper response to what you told me, and i’m sorry it’s taken me so long to gather my thoughts. i’m so sorry, i feel horrible for how you must have felt when i left after you said all of that.” 

“it’s okay,” he tells you. it’s not and you both know it, “you don’t have to feel the same about me. that was my fault for falling for you and coming on so strong about my feelings. you weren’t ready for it and i scared you. i was in the wrong.”

and it hurts to know he’s still going to apologize after all of this. he’s too kind and too pure of heart. 

the bracelet comes back to your mind. and you have no right to be jealous because that person did nothing wrong. they were honestly probably a good distraction for him while you were being a coward. but the bracelet, a marker of something of theirs being on his wrist. the thought left a disgusting feeling in your stomach. it was clear in that moment exactly how you felt. 

you come closer to him, suddenly emboldened by the jealousy of a gift another suitor got him and the fact that he was so wrong in his assumption of how he felt. he takes a step back when you get a little too close, like he’s nervous. not scared, but timid about what’s going on. his breath hitches when you look down at his lips like you could devour him. you were so obvious. 

“taerae,” you say, and one last time, he looks up at you with doe eyes, “i thought i didn’t have feelings for you. and then i watched myself break your heart. i knew right there and then that these emotions couldn’t have been caused by anything other than me having feelings for you. i didn’t want to admit it, to you or myself, but…” you trail off, forgetting the last words of your sentence when his eyes find your lips, like he wants to have you now, finally knowing there’s shared emotions there, “i thought i didn’t feel anything romantic for people at all, like i was soulless, and you proved me wrong.” 

“...why did you run?”

“i was scared. i’ve always been afraid to fall in love. i kept thinking, ‘what if he broke my heart?’. i realized how dumb it sounded because… it’s just so unlike you,” you smile at him, seeing all the innocence and kindness in his eyes, and wonder how you ever could have felt scared to fall for him, “and i saw them flirt with you. i told myself i couldn’t be jealous, but it’s hard to not be. i wanted you first, kim taerae. i know it’s not up to me, but they couldn’t have you. i couldn’t let that happen.”

“...come take me then,” he says, still staring at your lips. he really won’t make the first move, will he? you smile to yourself as you step closer, pressing your lips to his briefly, pulling away, and then again, just… not so briefly this time. he pulls away first because lord knows you couldn’t have, “so what happened to ‘i never wanna fall in love’?”

“i didn’t want this initially, you know. falling for you was never a choice,” you say. he laughs with all his chest.

“such an anti-romantic. glad i could turn you,” he smiles, “i’m just happy, in all your hatred of romance and pickiness for people, you picked this loser.”

sung hanbin is the kind of person who seems to have it all - looks, charm, intelligence, and talent. with a winning smile and a confident aura, he turns heads wherever he goes. but beneath the surface, there's so much more to him than the title of captain of the football team or school president. he's always there for his friends and loved ones, offering support and encouragement when they need it most.

“was it obvious?” the question came through a laugh as you leaned back and finally take a look at your best friend.

“is the window not enough for you?” he joked, earning a light whack on the back of his nape.

hanbin was your neighbour. you found out when the moving truck was a bit too loud one sunday morning, but you were quick to receive an apology from the boy with a box of homemade pastries. although you were yearning to go back to your bed, your parents invited him in and made you guys talk. you were quick to learn that he was going to start in your school and major in the same subject as you.

after a long talk, you returned to your room and sat at your desk, unable to get his smile out of your head. it lights up his entire face, filling the room with warmth and joy. it's the kind of smile that's contagious, making you feel happy and at ease. you just met the boy and you’re already falling for him?

you pushed yourself towards the blinds, wanting to let some sunshine in. but you find yourself smiling at what you find once you open them. the handsome boy was smiling, holding up a sheet of paper at his window.

[do u wanna walk to class together on monday?]

you fought back a smile as you shook your head at his action and rummaged around for a notepad and pen.

[gimme one good reason why i should]

[you don’t have to ofc! but i feel like it would be nice!]

and from then on, the two of you hit it off. everything about him made you want him to be around you more and more. sure, it was the little things, like holding the door open or making sure you were walking on the side furthest from the cars. but also he learnt your coffee order and brought you it weekly, and always brought a spare hoodie on the cooler days since you weren’t the best at dressing according to the weather.

at ungodly hours of the morning, you found yourself sitting at your window (in a growing pile of paper) giggling at the boy who was across from you. it got to the point where you went to drink from your body spray.

[those aren’t supposed to be consumed silly]

[anything can be if you try hard enough]

you would never forget the way he would laugh at your weird remarks. the way his eyes would light up before he leant back and chuckled, one hand on his chest.

at last, you were finally happy to wake up at 8:30 sharp every morning. until you slowly realise you weren’t the only person whose order was in hanbin’s list. and slowly, those after-class visits to the arcade, art gallery or even just the walks to and from class were becoming slim to none. by the time you got into bed, hanbin hadn’t left a message for you on his window.

the days when it went from bad to horrendous were still clear in your mind and to stop seeing those horrible days you decided to not show up at all. maybe it got to the point where you forgot you still had company other than hanbin that would stay by your side. after a series of knocking, you mustered up the strength to go to the door and find matthew standing there, eyebrows all furrowed, with kamden and jay standing right behind him. (i miss the english trio fr)

“why are you here?”

“we came to make sure you were okay.”

you were anything but okay and they could see it from the way you look defeated, not even able to lie your way out of it. you felt like it shouldn’t have even affected you that much, even going as far as to thinking that you should’ve seen it coming. why was it so easy to fall in love with him?

the point at which it got even worse was when you all decided to go to the friendly football game after your respective classes. it was the day you saw him with someone else.

“i heard she asked him out for prom,” you said, the words barely coming out as a whisper. the sight made you sick to your stomach but there wasn’t really anything you could do- she was perfect. popular, rich, the centre of the cheerleading squad and there wasn’t a moment where a hair was out of place.

“apparently he didn’t accept her, something about it not feeling right?.” kamden muttered, watching as the cheerleader walked away from hanbin towards the sidelines.

which makes you remember the day when you finally did talk to hanbin again.

it was a boring, gloomy day.

the rain aimlessly bounced off your window whilst you were listening to music. hoping that the minimal light would at least make you feel the slightest bit better, you opened the blinds and were shocked to see hanbin sitting on his bed. his eyes trailed up and you felt your heartstrings pull as you fail to see the soft glimmer which would shine through his pupils.

[you ok? :(]

your friends would kill you if they knew how fast you grabbed your notepad and marker pen.

[just tired of drama]

[sorry :(]

his lips pressed into a line as he shrugged, barely being able to muster up a smile. the words on your notepad echoed in your head again and again as you stared at them, your heart beating at an unhealthily fast pace.

by the time you mustered up the courage and held it up, his blinds were shut. you could only blame yourself now.

after all those times when you would sit at the back of the lecture hall talking about his favorite songs, the way you would sit and let him ramble on about his dreams, the fact that you knew exactly what to say to make him laugh when he was about to cry- you at least expected hanbin to acknowledge the fact that there was a bond between the both of you with overwhelming chemistry.

you were dreaming about the day when he would wake up and find that you were what he was looking for.

but now you were convinced it was all your fault. maybe if you had confessed earlier, you wouldn’t have lost him and just maybe, that he would belong with you.

it’s now the night of prom and after rejecting a promposal or two, you’re left in your room with your stuffed animals and netflix rolling in the background. you keep your blinds open, praying that hanbin would show up for at least a few moments.

and those prayers were answered.

[are you coming tonight?]

[no :/ staying in ]

[wish you were]

you smile and roll your eyes jokingly, standing up to get a hoodie to bunch up in during this long night. whilst scanning the wardrobe for something nice and warm, your eyes lay on the dress which you had planned on wearing to prom (in the event that hanbin did ask you out).

you turn your head and your vision focuses on the piece of paper which lays alone on the desk before your eyes land back on the dress.

and you had never gotten ready so fast before. you usually hated gut feelings, but there was something that was telling you to suck it up and just tell hanbin your true feelings. your brain was done with the frustrating questions which you constantly ponder on.

just why can’t he see that you are the one who understands him? the one who’s been here all along?

hands desperately grasp the piece of paper as you run down the stairs, a rush of adrenaline now surging through your body. you slam the door shut and run towards the road, managing to flag down a taxi and scurrying inside, wondering how the taxi driver even understood the clump of words that came out of your mouth.

as you step out you curse the adrenaline for stopping now, the moment you had to walk in with eyes all over you, the moment which could end up in total humiliation. you push past sweaty bodies, looking for the one who had stolen your heart.

“hey oh my god! i thought you weren’t coming!” you mutter a phrase of relief as you saw jay standing there, eyes wide with shock. “you look gorgeous!”

you smile at your friend before remembering the sole reason why you showed up in the first place. “hi jay! you look amazing but i’m in a massive rush right now i’ll explain everything after but please tell me you know where hanbin is.” once again, your words almost come out all fast and breathy, eyes scanning the whole room.

the corner of his lips rises as his eyes dart straight past your head, with your body following suit. “i think you’ll find your man standing right there.”

and at the moment, everything but you and the figure standing in front of you drowns out. when he finally notices you, he slowly makes his way over, his eyes locked on yours.

the intensity of his gaze was strong but delicate as if he was seeing you for the first time and taking in every detail. as he draws closer, you can smell the sweet cologne he's wearing, the scent filling your senses and making you feel dizzy with desire.

“you came?”

you want to express how you feel- to tell him how much he means to you, shit you feel like screaming it, but the words simply won't come. as hanbin’s eyes glaze over with concern you can feel the weight of your unspoken thoughts becoming heavier and heavier. so instead you reach into your purse and pull out the folded note which would put all your emotions into one phrase perfectly.

i love you

if you could fall into a pit of darkness now, you would.

on the other hand, hanbin can feel the warmth spreading through his chest, a wave of euphoria. he wants to tell you how he feels, to hold you in his arms and never let go, how he’s so stupid to take this long to realise you were the one for him, but he's afraid that he'll mess everything up. so he reaches into his blazer pocket, pulls out a piece of paper and opens it.

i love you

he knows that he's found the missing piece of his heart. he takes your hand, pulling you close to him, and he can feel the beat of your heart matching his own. in that moment, hanbin knows that he's found something special, something worth fighting for. and as he looks into your eyes, he realizes that he's in love with you, completely and irrevocably.

the familiar sight of hanbin’s eyes filling with nothing but love had never been so beautiful.

and before you know it- he leans in, his heart pounding in his chest, and presses his lips to yours. it's a soft, gentle kiss, filled with all the emotions hanbin had been holding back for so long. and as he pulls away, he knows that he's found something truly special - a love that will last a lifetime.

“i should be mad at you for how long it took you to see that-

“i belong with you? yeah i know- and i’m really sorry. but let me make it up to you.”

and for the first time (but most definitely not the last) you watch the sunrise from the same window, finally where the both of you belong.

—————————————————————————————

a/n : i am truly sorry for the lack of updates :( it’s exam szn for me so i’m constantly drowning in revision but i finally managed to finish this hanbin fic!! OBVIOUSLY its based off of you belong with me (taylor’s version ofc) and i tried my best to use the song as plot!!

i hope you enjoy this, mwah i love u all