⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡.𖥔 ݁ ˖⋆

one. —

In all of his collegiate soccer career, Jake Sim had only seriously gone to the trainer a total of five times. Those five times were for minor reasons, like taping an ankle or making sure his calf was properly stretched so it wouldn’t cramp mid game again. Sure, he was a frequent goer for ice baths or cupping, but Jake had never been hurt enough to need to go for more than that. It was a miracle, really, considering the amount of minutes he trained on and off the pitch, that he had never been seriously hurt, but Jake had always considered himself a lucky man. 

It was a Thursday evening that Jake felt his familiar luck strike once again. He had just returned from an away game at a university an hour away, one that the team had been looking forward to playing for some time ever since the season’s schedule was announced. Securing the win meant they remained first in the league and moved closer to regionals, and as both captain and starting center midfielder, the two things were important to the boy. A grin plastered over his face as Jake scored within the first fifteen minutes, and then again as his best friend, Heeseung, scored after him ten minutes after that. There was no reason not to smile when there wasn’t a single ball that got past his team’s defensive line, and his team had more morale than Jake had seen in weeks. The only time that cheeky grin faltered was when an opposing defender had overstepped and promptly kicked Jake in the knee during a slide tackle. Whether it was accidental or not, Jake would never find out, and though it didn’t seem to hurt him in the slightest, the purple and blue marks already emerging on the muscle on his skin had him sent to the trainer with a stern look from his coach and a shove from Heeseung. 

The crisp chill in the January air was a stark contrast to the warm buzz Jake was feeling as he walked through campus. The trainer’s office was halfway across the university, but it didn’t seem to faze the boy one bit the way his head bobbed to the music softly playing in his headphones, his hands stuffed in his puffer jacket to keep away from the cold. Jake was seemingly oblivious to the heads turning or eyes fixating on him as he treaded onwards in his worn down Gazelles. He could’ve been used to it—all the attention. Sunghoon always teased Jake about how people stared wherever he walked, like he was some soccer god. But then again, Sunghoon was nicknamed the ice prince of college with his outwardly figure skating skills, so he shut up before Jake could say anything in rebuttal. The truth was, Jake was aware that he was known, mostly because he agreed to do an interview with the university’s newspaper that left him with blushing red cheeks after all of the compliments they had thrown around during the duration of the hour-long conversation. He just didn’t see everyone staring, too busy in his own head thinking about his next training or the new calculus assignment he had to finish. So, onward he went to the portable building next to the soccer field that the university had come up with while they were doing repairs, unbeknownst to the eyes on his frame. Jake didn’t mind. The sports medicine department made it homey, anyway.

The boy knocked a total of three times, a soft rap rap rap against the cool steel door, before stepping inside to the dimly lit room. It used to be much brighter with overhead lights, but after Heeseung had his third concussion in two months—regional season two years ago, too many soccer balls to the head—, the trainers decided it would be better off with minimal harsh lighting. Instead of the disgusting classroom lighting Jake was used to in physics labs, the heads of the department replaced it with LEDs and candles, making it feel like a second home to Jake. And in a way, it was. He knew all of the trainers, even bringing them holiday gifts and restocking tape for them whenever he felt guilty for his team using most of their supply during the season. They had taken care of him, after all. Even since the beginning, when he was a scrawny first year with a point to prove. Even now, as a fourth year with nothing left but to improve.

“Hey, we’re technically closed—” An unfamiliar voice whipped Jake out of his thoughts, causing him to stand upright and blink rapidly at the figure now approaching him. The headphones once covering his ears now hung around his neck, allowing the soft sound of Justin Bieber to echo through the room. You, who were a few inches shorter than Jake with layers of hair down to the small of your back, only squinted your eyes with an amused look. The old Beatles sweater on your skin surely told Jake that you did not listen to Bieber the way he did.

He only cleared his throat, pressing pause on the song with pink cheeks that Jake prayed didn’t show in the dim light. “Erm. Hello.” He nodded. 

“Hello.” You repeated. “Did JB not let you hear me say we’re closed?”

“Closed?” Jake furrowed his brow. “You guys don’t close til—“

“Nine pm. It’s ten minutes past that now, easily.” You finished for him.

“Ah. I must’ve misplaced my time, then.” Jake responded, even though he didn’t. He never did that.

“No, you didn’t.” You replied, as if you could read his inner monologue. “Jake Sim, right?” You asked. Jake only nodded. “I figured at least one of your players might come after your game. Tough match.” You tsked and paused for a brief moment, as if you were deep in your own thoughts, before clapping your hands together. “Alright then, Sim. Sign in and I’ll take a look.”

“Really?” His head perked up, making eye contact with you.

You shrugged, meeting his eyes. “Why not? I only have to say we’re closed because I’m new. I know all the other trainers stay past.”

They do. Every single one Jake was familiar with stayed even hours past close, doing their homework and waiting for the team to show. A part of it was to write off working hours for resumés and requirements, but really, it was because the team genuinely enjoyed their job. There had been countless times Jake and Heeseung had stayed after cupping sessions just to hang out. Watch a football game that was on. Playfully argue—read: flirt— about the team’s lineups with the women’s team (Heeseung). Tutor helpless players in physics and calculus (Jake). Nonetheless, Jake shook this thought away and quickly scribbled his information down. Jake Sim. ID, sjaeyun02. Reason for visiting, bruised knee. He gave the clipboard to you, who seemed to be watching him with an expression he couldn’t quite read, before you scanned the messy writing. “Alright, Jake. Follow me.”

Jake followed you to one of the rooms full of beds and supply cabinets, where he usually got taped or stretched. “You can sit there.” You patted a bed in the middle. As Jake hopped the small height onto the bed, he noticed your eyes on him once again. He opened his mouth to say something, maybe even a smart remark or witty comment with his usual smirk, but you beat him to it once again. “Shit. That’s a gnarly bruise, Sim.”

The boy first tilted his head to the side in confusion before he looked down at his knee, seeing an array of dark purples and blues that hadn’t been there the last time he looked at it. “Oh.”

“Does this hurt?” You gently pressed your fingers against the skin. Jake paused for a second before he shrugged. “Oh my god. Put your pride aside, please.”

“I’m serious! I don’t know!” He began to laugh. You only shook your head in amusement, a quirk of a smile threatening to appear on your lips. 

“Well, it’s definitely swollen. Kick to the knee, right?” You looked up from where you were crouched, awaiting an answer, and Jake nodded half a beat too late, staring at you. “It should be fine to play on. But if there is any circumstance it’s not—and it does start feeling like you do know that it hurts—you come see me right away. I’m serious, Sim.” You glared at him before standing up, brushing your knees off before walking to the ice machine. Jake was the one watching you now, nimble hands securing and tying the bag of ice like you had done this so many times before. A pinch in your brow as you focused. A small pout in your lip as you grabbed the tape next to the ice. A confused look in your eyes as you noticed Jake’s gaze, and an even more unreadable one as you realized he wasn’t looking away. “It was, right?” You asked, placing the bag on his knee.

Jake hissed at the abrupt feeling of cold on his skin. “What?”

“A tough match.”

“Oh. I mean, we won, so not too bad, I guess. Could’ve been worse.”

“You’re never in here, so I assumed. It’s usually your friend I see a lot. The one with the ridiculous concussion history.” You mumbled, deep in concentration as you secured the ice properly.

“Heeseung.” Jake snorted. “Yeah. They make him come in every month for head checks.”

“He visits a lot.” You began to wrap tape around Jake’s knee. “More than you.”

“He knows everybody here. Better at socializing than me.” Jake explained, eyes closing at the tightness around his knee. 

“How’d you get the bruise?” 

“Slide tackle. Asshole kicked me while I was on the ground.” Somewhere, past the haze of Jake’s brain and the pain of the adrenaline wearing off, Jake knew you were trying to distract him from the possible pain he was feeling. Truthfully, it did hurt, but it wasn’t your minimal conversation that was causing his brain to think about something other than the soreness he’d definitely be feeling when he woke up tomorrow morning. It was you. Jake knew it deep down, even if he didn’t know why. 

“Do you always zone out this much?” You asked, tilting your head. You were standing up now, much closer than you had been the last time he looked at you. Jake only blinked rapidly, shaking his head as if it would put his brain back into place.

“Huh?”

You furrowed your brows. “Are you sure I don’t have to check you for a concussion?”

“Oh. No.” Jake shook his head again, a little faster this time, before carefully stepping down from the bed. “Probably just tired from the game.”

“This is my job, Sim. If I let you leave with a concussion—”

“—Then I will turn my ass back on my walk home and have you take a look at it.” He dawned a boyish grin, grabbing his soccer bag. “Don’t fret your pretty head. Mine is just fine.”

“You soccer players.” Jake heard you mutter as he walked toward the door. "You’re all the same.”

“Thank you for the ice!” He opened the door, shooting you one last grin.

“Don’t you dare go to lifting tomorrow!” You only replied. Jake just laughed, eyes crinkled, as the door shut.

Oh, he was fucked.

two. —

The five main symptoms of a concussion were as follows: extreme headaches, dizziness, confusion, nausea, and memory loss. It seemed as though every athlete that Jake Sim had met—including himself—had memorized those five components. Concussions were serious. Jake took them especially serious, considering his best friend had managed to be prone to getting them almost every soccer season.

Jake didn’t have a concussion. He knew that. He figured that out almost instantaneously. What he couldn’t figure out, though, was why he found himself walking back into the trainer’s room the next day. 

It was busy for a Wednesday afternoon, Jake immediately noticed, as he opened the door to see athletes sitting around on the couches and in the other rooms, some he recognized, some he didn’t. A loud cheer had erupted as some of the people noticed him, and Jake eased, sporting his usual grin. 

“Jakey!” That was most definitely Sunghoon in the other room getting an ice bath. He noticed Jungwon lounging in the corner with Jay and a few other friends, who had waved at him excitedly.

“I didn’t know you were coming.” Heeseung appeared in front of him, straight hair running amusk in different directions.

“Yeah. Lecture got out early. Head check again?”

His best friend nodded at him, trying to smooth out his hair. “I keep telling them I don’t need to do these anymore, but they keep saying—”

“—That you’re literally a research study for us in the kinesiology field.” You suddenly came into Jake’s vision, in all your strawberry and vanilla scented perfume and off the shoulder top glory. Jake had to mentally count to ten in order to come down to Earth at the sight of your collarbone. “Get back in the room, Heeseung.” You laid a stern look at him, who had glared back for a second, before sulking and retreating into one of the far rooms. “He gets three concussions in two months and thinks he doesn’t need to do any more treatment.” 

“I thought that was two years ago.”

“He gets one every season.” You reminded him with a tilt of your head. It caused the hair to fall off your shoulder, and Jake’s brain to short circuit. “I thought soccer was all about using your feet.”

“Heeseung’s… odd.” was all that Jake’s mouth could come up with in the moment, because you started to get closer to him as other conversations around you got louder, and Jake could only do so much with the smell of your perfume, really.

“You’re telling me.” You muttered before perking up, as if you remembered something. “Is that why you’re here, then? Concussion?”

“What? No.” Jake furrowed his brow.

“Are you sure? You seem to start your sentences with questions all the time.”

“I just do that.”

“Do you?”

“Yeah? I think so.”

“There you go again.”

“I don’t have a concussion!” Jake waved his hands in surrender. “I’m just here, for, uh— the knee thing.” Jake mentally palmed his face. 

This seemed to satiate you, though, only slightly. “Alright, then. I forgot about that.”

“You forgot about that?”

“Shut up, Sim.” You snapped, but there was no bite to it. “Go sign in.”

Jake only threw his hands up one more time, walking past you toward the clipboard. He tried to ignore how his arm brushed against yours. It was the usual scribble—Jake Sim, sjaeyun02, check up on bruised knee—that was normal for him. It was the feeling of you standing behind him, whether he could physically feel it or not, that was evidently not normal. He tried his best to feign a reaction as he turned around to face you.

“Alright, then.” You cleared your throat.

“Lead the way, captain.” Jake cleared his.

The outside noise and laughter began to fade away as the two of you entered the same room from the night before. Here, only a muffled buzzing from electricity and a few echoing laughs from others in the areas next door—Heeseung and Sunghoon, no doubt—could be heard. Jake was sure you could hear his gulp as he carefully climbed onto the bed, but you paid no mind. 

“It might be too soon for a proper checkup, since you just bruised it yesterday.” You told him, glancing at the boy once before returning your gaze toward his bruised muscle.

“Okay.” Jake let out. He stared at the ceiling instead of looking at you.

“Tell me if it hurts.”

“Okay.” He repeated. 

It was a few minutes before you began to speak again. “Why’s your ID name different from what everyone calls you?”

“Hm?”

“Your ID name. Jaeyun, right?” 

“Are you paying attention to me?” Jake’s lips twitched into a half smile, especially at the sight of you glaring at him. “It’s technically my name, too. My Korean name. But everyone just calls me Jake here. Only my family really calls me that.”

“I like that name.” You murmur before standing up fully. This way, you were standing over his sitting figure. Jake only blinked at you. “Your knee will be fine. Just sore for a while. Did you go to lifting today?” 

“No.” Jake shook his head. “I watched film instead.”

You rolled your eyes. “Of course you did. You’re free to go, then.”

Jake stepped down from the bed, getting deja vú almost immediately, but he didn’t move right away. He stood there for a moment longer, locking eyes with you, before willing his legs to start walking. “Goodbye, then.”

“Bye, Jake Sim.”

As Jake went to go see Heeseung, he let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding in.

three. —

“What do you know about the girl that helped me with my knee?”

It was a week later that Jake finally brought up the question that his brain had been thinking for the past few days. It was like his inner thoughts were on a set schedule—before bed: think of you, and the way your hair fell off your shoulders. Wake up in the morning: wonder if he’d see you today. Even now, as he and Heeseung were sprawled on a random picnic blanket they had pawned off on Sunoo, basking in the sun as Jake attempted to study for his exam later, he was thinking about you. 

“Hm? Who?” Heeseung mumbled. His eyes were closed. He was definitely not doing his homework like he said he was going to.

“The girl that checked on my knee.” Jake repeated. “The trainer. I’ve never seen her before.”

“Oh? —?” Heeseung thought out loud. “She’s cool. I think she got hired, like a month ago or something. She’s usually the one that gives me my head checks now.”

“A transfer student then?”

Heeseung opened an eye at that, a faint smirk appearing on his lips. “Why, hm? Does my Jakey have a crush that I don’t know about?”

Jake prayed that it was just the sun that was making him feel warm. Definitely not the idea of you. “No, dude.”

“Uh huh.”

“I was just asking.”

“Mhm. Sure.” Heeseung stretched. “Well, I do know that she has a break for the next hour until her next lecture, and she spends it in the trainer’s room. You know. In case you needed to get that knee checked out again.”

Jake perked up slightly. “Really? Well, in that case…”

“In that case…” Heeseung echoed, but Jake was too busy already packing his textbook into his bag. By the time his best friend had opened both eyes to look at him, Jake was already standing up, brushing off any grass from his pants. “God, you’re gone.”

“Shut up.” Jake’s cheeks turned pink. “Finish your assignment before you fall asleep.”

“Too late. My brain’s already turned off.” Heeseung replied, closing his eyes. “Jungwon’s coming to save me soon.”

“Hey, how do you know that much about her, anyway?”

“I told you. Head checks. I can’t just do those in silence, you know.”

“Ah. ‘Kay.”

“And Jakey?” Heeseung opened his eyes again. “She thinks you’re cute, too, you know.”

Heeseung’s last words gave Jake the mental courage to walk the long path in the trainer’s room, uncaring of the fact it was all the way across campus. He glanced at his watch as he saw the building in sight—at this rate, you’d have forty minutes left before you had to leave. Depending on the lecture hall you were in, he’d have twenty minutes. Thirty, if he was lucky. Jake was a logical man, after all. A logical man without a single excuse of why he was going to the trainer’s room, but that was something he was trying not to think about.

The trainer’s room was much more quiet than the last time he had been in here. There was absolutely no one in the building, save for a stray hockey player or two that had obviously just come out of a long cupping or scraping session. The silence made Jake’s heart pound a little harder, and he wondered if anyone could hear how loud his body was buzzing at the thought of seeing you.

He saw you before you saw him. You were sitting in the corner on the old sofa the trainers had saved up for last semester, hunched over a thick textbook. You were scribbling onto a notebook that was balanced on your lap, long hair framing the book so he couldn’t quite see what you were working on. You seemed to be deep in thought, not fully noticing his presence until he stood in front of you. 

“I’m off the clock.” You mumbled, flipping the page of your notebook. “Available trainers are in the far left room.”

“But what if I want to specifically request you?” Jake replied, looking down at you. He watched as your head snapped up at the sound of his voice, and it took everything in him not to smile at you. “Do I have to wait for your thirty minute break to be over?”

That caused you to be the one to smile, a soft upturn of your lips etching onto your face. “No. That means you have to wait until tomorrow morning, when I have an actual shift to work.”

“No.” Jake jokingly slapped his hand to his chest as if he were hurt. “You’re telling me I have to wait a whole twenty four hours for my favorite trainer to fix me?”

“I check on your knee twice and now I’m your favorite?” Your eyebrows raised. “Low standards, Sim, I must say. Plus, it’s only nineteen hours.”

“Fixed my knee twice.” Jake corrected. “You have the magic touch, don’t you know?” At that, he found the courage to sit next to you, shuffling his bag on the floor next to yours. Despite your murmurs of protests, Jake took the textbook from your lap, looking at the pages with all of your different annotations. He noticed the way you only wrote in a light blue color, a pretty half-cursive scribble taking up the margins of the pages. “What’s this?”

“Studying. Exam in an hour. Anatomy 3010. It's why I clocked out early."

“Ah. So you should let me quiz you, then.”

You looked at him with a squint in your eyes. “You study sports medicine?”

“No, I study physics—” Jake gave you a sheepish grin. “—But Sunghoon had to take the class last semester for his kinesiology requirement and I helped him study all the time. So. Same thing.”

“That is not the same thing, Sim.”

“I basically took the class.”

“No, you did not.” You paused for a second. “But I would like the help, since you’re offering.”

There was that same boyish glint in Jake’s eyes—the one that appeared only around you. “Of course.” He maneuvered himself so he was laying on his back, his worn out Converse propped on your lap. Jake gestured for you to hand over your books, head leaning against the softened arm rest of the sofa. When you hesitated, gripping onto the already creased pages just slightly tighter, he only rolled his eyes playfully and grabbed the book. “Just let me help. C’mon, baby.”

Baby. The nickname came out of Jake’s mouth so easily that he didn’t even realize it, just flipping through the pages as if he were mentally reminding himself of the material and not of the fact that he just made your cheeks turn red and your mind spiral. You tried to concentrate again, but your eyes only focused on the way Jake’s lips murmured quiet words while he read, completely unaware of what he said. So you did what you knew best—shove down that smile that was always trying to appear around Jake, and ignore the butterflies that were swarming in your stomach. But you knew they would give away one day. Eventually.

four. —

It was raining. That should have been a bad omen of sorts for Jake. 

Because not only was it just raining, but it was pouring unusually hard for April. 

The game realistically should have been called off with the way the turf fields were beginning to flood ever so slightly, but even with Jake’s incessant arguing and his coach’s phone calls, the game was still set to be played at eight pm.

So Jake played that evening game even when the cold rain was sticking to his thermals and the hair on the back of his nape was starting to curl, taking control of his midfield and trying to act as if everything was normal. 

And to be fair, everything was normal. He was feeding in excellent balls to his strikers. Every corner kick he did was just near perfect. He could count on three fingers how many times an opponent got through his line, and even then, the boy was sprinting to chase them down and do his signature slide tackle, turf burns be damned. 

But there was one time that wasn’t normal, that Jake felt so completely out of his body that he didn’t know what to do. He had been running alongside Heeseung, the two doing a play that he knew would be clipped and added to his film highlights the second it got uploaded, when he felt something in his knee as he passed the ball back to Heeseung. A pop. A twinge. Pain. Jake could only bring himself to barely smile when Heeseung kicked the ball in the back of the net. Could only go on autopilot as Heeseung ran in front of him to do their celebratory handshake they always did when one of them scored. It wasn’t much pain, Jake supposed, but an injury now would ruin his career. And probably the rest of his life, if he spiraled too much. He knew that was probably in store for him at the end of the night.

Jake had no idea how he ended up here. His teammates had invited him out to the bars to celebrate their win, even offering to buy him drinks, but truthfully, Jake believed that he would throw up the second he attempted a sip of his usual rum and coke order, so he just politely declined. Said he was too tired. Threw in a lame promise of a next time. The guys thankfully believed him and just nodded, but Heeseung looked at him with a head tilt, but Jake only shook his head. Not now, was what Jake meant to say but couldn’t. His best friend only nodded and rubbed his shoulder slightly before walking off. We’ll talk later, was what Heeseung replied without needing words. 

Here, being the trainer’s room again. The rain was pouring even harder now, and Jake had forgotten his thicker coat in his locker, too lost in his thoughts to pay attention, so he was adorning an old hoodie that probably had holes in the pockets and his soccer shorts from the game prior. His Converse were soaked through from stepping in puddles and his hair was stuck to his forehead, but he was still standing here, knocking hesitantly on the door, even though he never did that.

Ten seconds passed before Jake decided that he should leave. He didn’t even know why he was here. His knee would be fine. He’d go to film tomorrow morning, and it would be fine. He’d go to lifting in the afternoon, and it still would be fine. In fact, maybe he just imagined it. It didn’t even hurt that bad now, it just—

“Jake?” The boy heard your voice before he saw you. He didn’t know when he had turned his back and began walking back into the rain toward his dorm, but he was stuck now, standing as the harsh drops of water splattered on his head. “What the hell are you doing in the rain?”

Jake felt his shoulders slump the minute he turned around. He watched as you looked at him with eyes wide as saucers and full of concern, and he wanted to run. You shouldn’t see him like this, really. But he didn’t. And you didn’t, either. You just walked toward him, grabbing his hand that he didn’t realize was chilled to the touch, and dragged him inside the familiar room. 

“I—uhm—don’t—” He tried to speak, but you only shushed him, grabbing a towel and a blanket and wrapping it around him.

“It’s okay.” You said softly in a reassuring tone he had never heard before. You must be in trainer mode. Go figure. “You don’t have to say anything right now.” You led him to the couch—the same couch the two of you had spent your afternoon just yesterday, studying for your exam with his feet perched in your lap and a smile on the both of your faces that you both desperately tried to fight off but failed. This time, there wasn’t anything of the sort. It was just the two of you. Jake, curled in on himself. You, watching the campus golden boy fight his inner demons in a way you knew deep down that no one had ever seen him do.

You only left his side for a second to one of the other rooms, pouring warm tea from the kettle into a mug before you immediately returned, passing the steaming cup into his cold hands. Jake tried to shake his head, refusing the kind gesture, but you only brought the mug up to his lips in response. “You’re going to get sick.” You said in that same soft tone.

“You don’t need to do this.” He replied.

“I know, Jaeyun.” You stared at him, but raised the mug toward his shaking lips anyway. He took a slow drink of it, meeting your gaze almost instantly. Whether it was because of the use of his Korean name or the way you paid attention to him in a way you had never done before, you didn’t know. “Just drink.”

It had been more than five minutes before you spoke again. “What happened?” You asked quietly.

Jake took a shaky inhale, pinching his eyes shut as if answering the question would cause him pain. The minute he started fidgeting with his fingers, you shifted closer to him, bringing his palm into yours. Your bodies were pressed close together at this point, the thick material of the blanket being the only barrier between your bodies, but the only thing you were focused on was him. Jaeyun, Jaeyun, Jaeyun. “My knee.” He finally managed to speak, the horror painted on his face matching the shakiness of his voice.

You tried not to look pained. “Jake.”

“I—uh, heard a pop. And then it just hurt. Everything. Yeah.” He continued, closing his eyes.

“When?” You insisted. You were a trainer, after all. “After Heeseung’s goal?”

Jake’s eyes barely crept open. “It was that noticeable?”

You only shook your head, brushing the tangled waves away from his forehead. “No. I’m just a trainer. And I know you.”

“Oh.” His eyes closed once again. “That’s good, then.”

“You played well, though. Even in the rain. Everyone was impressed.” You kept toying with his hair, going from twirling different strands in between your fingers to scratching your nails softly against his scalp. It seemed to be working—Jake’s breathing settling down to a normal pace, his fidgeting stopping altogether—and you let the silence sit between the two of you comfortably. “Do you think I can take a look at it?” You asked after some time. You waited before a weak sure came from his lips.

You knew Jake’s eyes were on you as you got up, moving swiftly in between rooms to grab the supplies you needed. It’d be better if he stayed on the couch rather than attempt to move somewhere else, even if it would be more convenient, so you instead did the moving for him. He watched with wide eyes as you quickly scribbled in the information you began to know by heart—Jake Sim, sjaeyun02, check up on knee—before walking back to the couch and bending down in front of him. The heavy pitter patter of rain was the only noise in the room as you gently prodded at Jake’s knee. You tried to be indifferent, tried to pretend like this was just another student and not the Jake Sim that quietly stole your heart throughout the weeks, tried to act as if you didn’t notice the wincing that overtook the boy’s face as you touched certain parts of the muscle. You figured you’d have a weak spot someday. You just didn’t think it’d be him.

You cleared your throat. “So.” 

“So.” Jake repeated, voice shaky.

“It’s not torn.” You announced, standing up from your crouched position. The sudden news caused Jake’s eyes to shoot open, as if he didn’t expect anything good to come from this. You didn’t know the boy was such a pessimist, but you’d been learning new things from him everyday. “It doesn’t seem to be broken, either. To me, it just looks like a strain, like you’d been pushing it too hard. Today was just a warning sign.”

Jake let out a heavy exhale that you knew he’d been holding in since he arrived. “That’s good. I think.”

“But listen, Jaeyun, at the end of the day, I’m just a student trainer. I’m not technically not even a professional. You should get this checked out in case I’m wrong.” You paused. “I don’t want to be the reason—”

“—You won’t.” Jake interrupted your spiraling thoughts immediately, not letting you finish. “I’ll go get it checked out tomorrow. Promise.”

You just nodded and slumped down in the creased couch cushions next to him. It was a tiring day for both of you—Jake more than you—but it was nice to exist like this, you supposed. Sitting next to each other, listening to Jake’s slow breathing, his head on your shoulder. Just existing in a quiet moment that was once loud.

five. —

“If you don’t walk in there right now, I’m seriously going to punch you.”

Heeseung’s voice boomed in the air, even in the outdoor hallway of the school. He stood behind Jake with his hands in his gray sweatpants, eyes squinting like he could see right through his best friend. 

To be fair, maybe he could. Jake had been standing at the door of the trainer’s room for at least seven minutes, if he looked at his watch on his left wrist close enough, and though Heeseung had been supportive for the first four, he supposed the boy was about ready to shove him through the corridor if Jake didn’t move soon.

“I’m going to punch you, and then you’ll have a black eye and a bad knee.” He continued.

“Hey, don’t talk about my knee like that.” Jake glanced down at his leg, where careful works of KT tape lined up and down his knee. You were right—it was just a bad strain, but even the doctor looked at him warily and described (in great detail) how it could have been so much worse. He was on day-by-day now, his coach forcing him to do physical therapy rather than worsen the muscle more. Jake was just glad he didn’t have to miss any games.

“How long has he been standing like that?” Jake heard Sunghoon’s voice behind him.

“How long is he going to stand like that?” That was Jungwon.

He knew Heeseung was shaking his head, despite the fact that he couldn’t see him. “You don’t want to know.”

“I’m going in!” Jake turned around, waving his hands as if he were surrendering. 

“No, you’re not.” The three of them replied at the same time.

“Okay, fine. Just give me thirty seconds.”

“More like thirty minutes.” Sunghoon replied, a grin appearing on his face.

“Nobody asked you, Hoon.” Jake sniped. He didn’t mean it. Sunghoon only laughed.

“I don’t know what you’re so worked up about, Jakey.” Heeseung rubbed his shoulder. “I’m sure it’ll be fine. Actually, we know it’ll be fine, because it’s clear as day that she likes you—”

Jake only grumbled some sort of incoherent words as a response—perhaps a mixture of, “we don’t know for sure,” and, “please shut up.” The next few seconds happened as if Jake were in a movie.

Heeseung laughed at Jake’s grumbling, both out of fondness and disbelief.

Jungwon shook his head, concealing a smile.

Sunghoon, having enough of Jake’s brooding, opened the door.

Like most things in his life, Sunghoon was also unaware of Jake leaning on said door.

As a consequence of Sunghoon’s actions, Jake stumbled through the doorway and bumped into someone—

You.

You adorned a look of surprise, wrapping your hands around Jake’s shoulders to hold him steady. From here, Jake could see the faint dust of baby pink blush that was painted on your cheeks. You smelled faintly of your signature scent—strawberries and vanilla bean, Jake had come to realize the more he spent time around you—and your hair was curled into loose beach waves. You looked, well, beautiful. You never put this much time into how you looked, his brain tried to tell him, but he was short circuiting. It was easy to only pay attention to you, no matter the situation.

“Hello.” You spoke, lips twitching into an amused grin.

“Uhm.” Jake tried to speak. He mentally slapped himself.

“How’s the knee?”

“What?” Jake managed.

“Your knee, Jaeyun. The one you hurt.” You looked pointedly at his leg that was bundled in KT tape.

“Oh. Uhm. Okay, I guess.” 

You nodded. “Good, then.”

“Good.”

Jake took a moment to look around and realize that there wasn't a single soul in the trainer’s room. He half expected people to be staring at the two of them and trying not to laugh, but to his surprise, it was silent. Just as quiet as it was the last time he saw you. Jake’s brain refreshed the memories of the two of you sitting on the couch, his head resting gently on your shoulder as your own rested atop of his. He was wrapped in the fuzzy blanket you had given him, but it was your presence that had kept him warm.

The boy cleared his throat, looking around at the unusual vacancy. “Where is everyone?”

“Football game. I’m sure everyone’s pre-gaming by now.” You shifted a few inches away from him, releasing your grip on his shoulders. Jake wasn’t sure why he immediately missed your touch.

“Oh.” He had completely forgotten about the game.

You nodded. “You’re going?” 

“Uh—maybe. Not sure yet. Better not. Give the knee a break and all.” 

“Ah. Good thinking.” 

It had never been awkward between you and Jake. Even on the night that Jake had shown up past dusk, right at the time that you were going to lock up the room, to get his bruises checked out, there were never any stumbling of words or stuttering like now. Jake had never furrowed his brows or bit his lower lip raw the way he was doing at this exact moment, and you had never held back as many words as you were in the back of your throat. You hated it.

“Well, if that’s all you came here for, then.” You said it as if it were a statement. A conclusion, even. A finality to whatever had been going on between the two of you for the past couple of months. Jake only stood still watching you as you walked to grab your bag, slinging it over your shoulder. “Heard you guys made it to the playoffs. Good luck, Jaeyun.” You said as you walked past, stopping briefly to look at him, as if you were memorizing him one last time. The feeling of everything ending made Jake snap.

“No.” He turned around, watching your hand on the door. 

He eyed as you faced him slowly, expression full of confusion and something else he couldn’t quite place. Anticipation. Hope, maybe. “No? Like, you don’t want good luck, or—”

“No. That’s not it. It’s just—” Jake sighed loudly, running a hand through his hair as he gathered his thoughts. “You can’t walk out like that. Like everything’s normal. Like everything’s going to go back to normal. You can’t walk out of here and pretend like we didn’t—like you aren’t feeling the same things that I have for the past few months.”

“What are you talking about, Jaeyun?” Your voice was barely a soft whisper.

“You know what I’m talking about.” He stared at you. “You know I didn’t just come in here to get my knee checked.”

“Then what’d you come in here for?” You stared back. When Jake’s throat bobbed, you stepped closer. “Say it, Jaeyun.”

“I came in here to tell you how much I like you.” Jake didn’t blink. Didn’t even miss a beat. He never had in his entire life, and he wasn't planning on it now. “You think I just come in here to see if my knee’s okay, or to keep Heeseung company during head checks? You really think I go out of my way almost everyday just for some ice or tape?” He shook his head. He was almost pacing at this point. His accent was getting stronger with each word that spilled from his lips, the way it usually did when Jake got passionate about certain things. Physics, hard calculus equations, you. “I like the way you challenge me like nobody else on this campus does. I like the way you don’t give me the time of day half the time. I like the way you’re the only person besides my own mother that calls me Jaeyun, and you say it like you don’t even realize you’ve got me by the heart.”

“Jaeyun—”

“Your perfume. The way you’re so smart and hardworking and you don’t give yourself even an ounce of credit that you deserve. Your stupid Beatles sweater. Your weird cursive handwriting. The way you remember everything, even my ID—”

It took five whole seconds before Jake could process your lips against his. He stood still until his brain could comprehend that the palm of your hand was cupping his cheek, and that you, too, were holding your breath. It was a countdown unlike any other sports game he had experienced in his entire lifetime, and yet somehow, it didn’t compare. Nothing in this world compared to you.

At the fifth second, Jake moved his lips. It was soft, of course, just like you. His hand ran through your curls until he reached the back of your neck, and then he pulled you closer. Close enough that he could smell that strawberry scent, and it was there he knew that this was better than any goal he could possibly score. 

“You’re stupid.” You murmured, lips brushing against his, but even still, pressed a chaste kiss against his torn bottom lip.

“But you like me.” 

“And I like you.” You corrected. Jake only grinned. 

“I’ll take it.”

Goal. 1-0: win for Jake Sim.

plus. —

It was a warm night for the end of April, a stark contrast to the chill everyone was used to for the past few months. The crowd welcomed the seventy degree night, no longer needing to sport hoodies and hand warmers that they kept in the pockets of their pants and sweaters. Cropped shirts and various designs of the school’s sports team were all over the bleachers. This was the regional final, after all. Better to show out than nothing at all.

But you? You stood on the sidelines, by the medical tent, wearing a jersey. It hung low on the hips of your baggy jeans, but the number on the back was easily identifiable. #7. And above it? Sim.

You watched the game closely, arms crossed against your chest. You kept your eyes on the boy whose last name was on the back of your shirt, and the way he jogged effortlessly like he hadn’t been playing on the pitch for the last eighty eight minutes without a break. His eyes darted around the pitch, completely immersed in the game. You couldn’t keep your eyes off of him, no matter how obvious it was to the other trainers around you. It was just the effect of Jake Sim, after all. Eyes followed him everywhere. You were no exception.

Blood rushed in your ears as you watched Heeseung and Jake sprint up the pitch together, very clearly on the path to scoring a goal that would finish the current tied 2-2 score. You saw Heeseung lob a pass in the air to Jake. Jake jumped to meet the ball. This was it, you thought. But then a defender crashed into Jake, sending him rolling against the turf. Your hands tightened against your body. Even more so, when he didn’t get up. The golden boy—your boy—on the last of his collegiate career, on his way to a professional one no doubt, was on the ground.

“Come on.” A trainer murmured to you, handing you a bag. “Your time to shine.”

You jogged onto the field, trying to ignore the weak feeling in your legs. You pushed past Heeseung, who was telling off the player that presumably knocked down his best friend. A yellow card would be given, you were sure. But that didn’t matter now, not when you crouched next to Jake, who was attempting to get up with a groan.

“Jaeyun.” You warned.

“I’m fine.” He breathed heavily. “Just got the wind knocked out of me.”

You ignored the wave of relief that rushed through your body. “I have to run a concussion test.”

Jake groaned. “Come on, I’m not Heeseung—”

“—If not for your team’s sake of mind, then for mine.” You interrupted, staring at him with a hard look. The two of you had agreed to be professional around each other when it came to times like these. And you were. But Jake Sim had always been your weakness. You knew that now.

Jake hesitated before nodding. You ran through all of your concussion tests while his coaches came to Jake’s side, informing him that the game was on pause. There was only a minute left, and then it would go into overtime. The game would return with a penalty kick. The defender who hit him got a yellow card. So did Heeseung, which caused Jake to snort.

“This determines everything, kid.” His coach told him. “Whether we win regionals or not. Everything we’ve been working towards this past season.”

“No pressure.” Jake replied sourly. It was so unlike him. The older man only nodded before walking off.

He passed all of the tests you had given him. He didn’t present any of the concussion symptoms that should have been there. The boy was right. The wind was just knocked out of him. Jake Sim was a lucky man.

“Don’t listen to him.” You murmured, packing up your things. Jake’s head snapped toward yours. “Play for you. Nobody else. Just you.”

“I play for a lot of people, including you.” He reminded you.

“I know, golden boy.” You rolled your eyes, getting up. “But this time, play for Jaeyun. Just this once.” 

With that, you jogged back to your tent. Claps and cheers were heard around the field as Jake got up, shaking off his limbs. The referees announced the news that you had already heard. It was no shock that Jake would be taking the kick. He had a ninety nine percent success rate when it came to penalty kicks. Nearly a hundred percent—damn near perfection—and yet the sight of Jake setting the ball on the white patch of grass had you grasping your bottom lip in between your teeth in a bundle of panic and fear.

You watched as he rolled the ball three times before walking backwards. Jake did everything in threes, you noticed. Walked backwards three steps. To the left another three steps. Jumped three times.

The whistle blew, and you watched the boy that was slowly beginning to be the love of your life kick the ball with a perfect swing of his right leg. You watched as the ball hit the top of the crossbar and into the left corner of the net with an effortless ding. You watched as he sank to his knees while his team raced from the bench to crowd over him with cheers.

Golden boy Jake Sim won it. Both the game, and your heart.

The next few minutes came in a blur. Jake’s cheeks were simultaneously tear-stricken and pulled into an ear-splitting grin. You let him have the spotlight. Heeseung carried him on his shoulders, laughing wildly as Jake flung his legs around in protest. Jake held up the trophy above his head, eyes closed as he looked the happiest he had ever been. Maybe the happiest you had ever seen him. But then his eyes locked onto yours, and you knew then, that if Jake Sim hadn’t been it for you before, he was now.

The two of you pulled toward each other like magnets attracting. Jake jogged away from his team; you walked toward him without even realizing it. And suddenly he was pulling you into his arms, lifting you up and spinning you around. His boyish laugh echoed into your ears, and your yells to be put on the ground slowly turned into a melody of giggles that blended into the most beautiful song with him.

“If you don’t put me down right now, Jaeyun, I swear I’ll—” You let out through a fit of laughter.

“You’ll what?” He grinned, putting you down, inches away from him. His hands rested on your hips. Right where he wanted to be. “Hm? Tell me.”

“Give you an actual concussion.” Your eyes squinted at him in challenge, but you didn’t resist when he pecked a small kiss on the corner of your lips. “Then you’ll have to do head checks every month like your best friend.”

“Oh, an actual excuse to see you? Have at it then, baby.” He murmured, pressing another kiss on the other side of your lips. Your cheek. Your forehead. Your nose. 

“You’re so gone, Jaeyun.” You laughed breathlessly.

“For you? Yeah.” He nodded. “It’s worth it. Everything about you. You’re worth it.”

“it was exhausting, yes... but, it was amazing too, right?” he asks, tilting his head as his bangs fall over his eyes. he looks like the handsome-est cat-human situation you’ve ever seen.

“i don’t know . . . it wasn’t amazing,” you say, faking disappointment. you can see his mood falter in real time and you rush the words out of your throat, “it was very fucking incredible.”

you laugh and his heart skips a beat and his eyes light up like stars under the setting sun as if the stars in his eyes are welcoming the moon to establish its reign over the atmosphere for the next ten-ish hours.

he shakes his head, “you’re such a damn rage-baiter, it’s annoying,” he comments, making you furrow your brows. “mr. yang, are you reffering to me as annoying ?”

the way his name professionally addressed sounds on your tongue makes him stop his train of thought, however he recovers quickly. “annoyingly cute.” he elaborates and it’s suddenly your turn to attempt, ( keyword: attempt ) to play it cool and it backfires as it always does.

you’re utterly put together and extremely professional— you’re hanlim high’s president for a reason. but, your vice-president makes it hard to be as efficient as you’d like. he’s too handsome for you to care about ms. choi’s agenda for the month.

it’s even worse because he never misses a chance to hit on you. he likes you and he’s obvious about it, making it harder to resist. dating your vice-president isn’t a good impression on the council and you can’t lose focus due to love, you’re on the road for being class valedictorian.

but, as the days go by, it’s harder to pretend you don’t feel the way you do for him. especially not when he listens attentively to you and helps you execute your vision perfectly. not when he visibly lights up when you walk into the room as if his day just got ten times better. not when he buys you your exact order of coffee every morning and walks with you to your first class.

“don’t learn from jaeyun, it won’t score you any girls.” you advice teasingly, motioning to jaeyun, better known as jake who tries to flirt with another council member, yunjin who effectively rejects him.

you mouth a it’s okay, jaeyun while holding back your laugh to which he flips you off, making you burst into a fit of laughter and jungwon follows suit.

once the laughter slows down, he says, his voice low and vulnerable in a way it makes your heart do a somersault because it sounds so intimate, “well then, will it score you ?”

you look at him, really look at him and his dimples, his expressive eyes and the fear of rejection he sheaths beneath his confidence. “if you ask me right.”

jungwon’s brain short-circuits. did you just allude to him having a chance with you? are you indirectly saying you might actually like him back too? he goes quiet as the gears in his mind work slower as he’s stuck in a trance where all he can think of is the many possibilities that you opened the door to.

he thinks, and thinks, and thinks some more as if he’s actively solving a murder mystery. you raise your brow in amusement at his silence, awaiting his response as you think maybe i shouldn’t have said that . . .

you’re about to laugh it off when he speaks again, “y/n, we successfully conducted our season’s endings fair,” he says as you nod, confusion still not cleared up.

“and we did a wonderful job,” he continues and you nod again, wondering what’s being plotted by his rather strategic brain. he leans in closer, swiping his tongue over his bottom lip.

why is he unintentionally teasing me by being seductive like this? you gulp at the sight.

“so, don’t you think i deserve a reward for contributing significantly to the success?” he concludes and you hum, perplexed, “what sort of reward are you requesting, dear vice-pres.”

the certification of his role makes him chuckle as he says the next three words that makes your mind go absolutely haywire, “by a kiss.”

you can feel your cheeks tingling and you’re sure you resemble a tomato. jungwon thinks he played his cards right as he sees the tips of your ears coated red, adorable. he thinks.

you knew he was confident, but you didn’t expect him to be this straightforward. and the thing is, he didn’t either. he’s in shock that he said what he said out loud.

since when were you this up-front? he asks himself.

you put two and two together in your mind: he likes you. you like him. and you can’t care about what the council or anyone for that matter will think as you see his patient eyes that await your response. fuck this shit, he’s my man. you conclude from your intensive analysis.

“well, i would like that and furthermore, who am i to deny my vice-president?” you emphasize the my, clearly marking territory. and god, he just fell in love with you again.

possessive women are the shit. he crashes out internally at your confident tone, confident women are also the shit. he thinks.

he stands up abruptly, handing his hand out for you to take. you leisurely accept the offer, standing up and running your hand through your hair.

he leads you into the back exit of the building, where he’s sure it’ll be empty. meanwhile, the council members, who just witnessed this scene occur are in a frenzy.

“what in the k-drama?”

“fuck yeah, took them long enough.”

“oh my gosh, my parents!”

as soon as he closes the door behind you, he looks at you one last time, asking your consent without words. when you mutter a yes, he gets his signal.

his lips land on yours with the tenderness of a man who has yearned too long. his lips are soft as he presses them to yours again and again. your hands find their way to wrap around his neck, fingers curling in his raven locks.

jungwon’s addicted. the taste of your lip gloss is driving him crazy and he can’t get enough of you. you pat his chest gently when your need for oxygen becomes apparent.

he pulls away, lips centimeters from yours, his eyes have hearts and he has the grin of a lovesick fool. “thank you so much. i love the reward, ms. president.” even his tone is laced with adoration.

you’re no different. the sweet smile on your face is enough for him to internally drop to his knees. jungwon feels blessed, thank the lord he took part in the council elections.

“you’re welcome, beloved vice-president.”

𝓚𝑰𝑹𝑨'𝑺 𝙎𝒊𝙂𝓝𝘼𝙇 ( ˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗ ) HAPPY JUNGWON DAYYYYY yes his birthday was technically yesterday but Icompleted this yesterday and only did the layout today so I Counts as me being on time sybau ++ FIRST ENHA FIC KINDA NERVOUS...... also I made a post about what the season's endings fair is and if u didn't see it, read it here ! LIKE + REBLOG = MWAH AS U KNOW ♡

𓆩♡𓆪 taglist! @stewpidchezcat @myuviis

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ regulars! @woniefication @shyoko @yooniso

YOUR MIND WAS DEVOID OF THE JOY. devoid of the joy anyone would expect experiencing upon getting a perfect score on their exam, that too of physics out of all subjects.

to you, the score was just a mark of reassurance that you weren't a failure in the eyes of your parents, nothing more. you gave everyone a blank smile who congratulated you, clearly impressed.

you looked up when you heard someone clear their throat in an attempt to grasp your attention to see a somewhat unfamiliar face. you didn't know her and you couldn't place a name to her face.

she stared for a second too long, you couldn't decipher why. before you could overthink all possibilities, her smooth and calm voice introduced, "hey, i'm ning yizhou! i'm a new transfer student from china"

you nodded, not knowing what to say afterwards. she pulled a nearby seat and positioned it at the opposite end of the desk, across from you. she sat down, now at eye-level with you.

"you seem to be thriving in physics and me.. well— i'm not the best at it to put it simply." you slowly nodded again, the chance that you may have been mute struck the transfer student but she continued, "can you do me a favor, please?"

you shrugged your shoulders, "i don't tutor." her mouth fell agape, two things she was speculating both having been rejected in a short three-worded sentence. you weren't mute and you weren't a tutor either.

she went through five stages of denial, she didn't want to miss the opportunity to be tutored by the campus crush scholar everyone couldn't stop talking about. no one ever saw you talk to anyone first, when you did talk in response to someone it was always short answers and nods.

you were quiet, reserved and always calm. people loved testing you for that fact. they tried every single way to get on your nerves but not once did you raise your voice or let your reserved persona flicker to reveal who they actually thought you could be.

yizhou was one of the people who admired from afar, wondering who you were actually like when you weren't so damn cold. today, seeing her 17.5%— she knew she needed to get some help.

no one actually loved physics, most who scored between average to a little below high just studied and got it over with. they all despised the subject with a burning passion. someone who didn't despise physics, rather loved it; was of course, you.

you were one of the best at physics in town, you loved every concept, every theory, everything that summed up the contents of physics. you were more than 90% of the time the best in the state, which is why your reputation was so important.

your parents couldn't afford to have a daughter who peaked and then fell down, refusing to get up. you got scoldings for being second in the state level, you weren't just some ordinary nerd. you were always referred to as a science prodigy since you were little.

best at science when you were in middle school, best at physics in high school and currently still upholding your record at being the best at physics in university. there wasn't a day when you weren't talked about.

whether it be by the parents passing by or gossiping, the principal and teachers bragging to others, your parents flexing their perfect daughter or the others in the university who admired you.

you were practically an icon.

you didn't mind the attention, you didn't love it either. you just dealt with it and were neutral about the topic. you were known for declining almost every interaction prompted by anyone.

parties, coffee, studying, tutoring, hanging out— you never agreed. yizhou wasn't aware of that and as she sat there across from you, your furrowed brows, carefully analyzing what she must've been thinking. she knew she needed herself to become an exception to your no tutoring rule.

"please, look i'm okay with my other classes but i can't for the life of me, not struggle with physics!" she rushed out, quickly taking your hands, looking at you with the brightest, most alluring cat eyes you'd ever seen.

some students murmured, some gasped. another thing you weren't known for: physical contact. the day when you punched a boy so hard he broke his nose when he tried to pull you into an empty classroom by tugging your wrist— to confess his undying love initially, all of them knew you weren't one for physical affirmation. at all.

you should've just pulled your hands out of her hold, that's what you would've done with any other human. however, you didn't. your mind went blank, you didn't know what to do.

her eyes and the warmth that radiated from her hands that covered yours had an effect that couldn't be explained with physics, chemistry, biology, math or any other subject you could think of.

looking at her hopeless expression, you felt as if you were going to commit a sin by rejecting her polite request. you let out a sigh, not so sure why you were saying what you were, "alright, i.. i guess i'll tutor you."

her pretty brown eyes lit up, a wide grin spreading across her face like a child who just got their favorite candy. she thanked you profusely, her hands leaving yours to clap a few times I'm excitement.

the warmth faded, leaving you looking at your colder hands. her fingers brushed past yours again when she took a pen and paper from your desk. she hurriedly scribbled something on the little sheet of paper before she handed it to you.

your gaze followed the notes content, it was her phone number and her name written below with a few sparkles and hearts drawn on. "text me whenever you have the time to discuss the schedule. bye, tutor y/n!"

she waved with her bright smile before skipping to her friend group. you read the note over and over again, a small smile curling up your lips. she seemed nice.

──────── ✧✦

"how do you love physics? it's the most boring shit ever!" yizhou dropped her head in her arms, exhausted from the never ending theories and concepts.

you lightly smiled, tapping the end of your pen on her head, "you know..." you drew out, but stopped before saying anything further. should she know about your feelings on physics?

she turned her head, looking up at you, raising her brows waiting for you to continue, "i know what?" she asked. you pondered for a few more seconds, shaking your head. her brows furrowed further.

"c'mon we're friends now, you can talk to me." she smiled, you couldn't see the smile, you knew she was by the way the skin near her eyes crinkled at the corners, chubby cheeks just visible enough to make you coo in your mind.

friend. you made a friend?

you didn't remember the last time when someone referred to you as their friend. you were a little dumbfounded, your little smile increasing at the corners at the thought before it fell again.

don't get too happy, y/n, she'll leave anyway.

she'll leave someday when she decides she deserves much better friends than an eye candy nerd who didn't know what their is to life outside of studying and presenting yourself elegantly.

for now, you chose to give her a response, "physics isn't my favorite subject," she audibly gasped, suddenly sitting up straight, this— this was tea.

her eyes were wide like she'd heard the most bizarre sentence to exist, "that's like a mathematician saying math isn't their favorite!" you only let out a little suppressed giggle at her shocked face.

"no doubt i do love physics," you said first and foremost, seeing her cringe at the statement. "but my favorite is not it." she nodded mindfully, understanding you perspective.

"so what is your favorite?" she slightly narrowed her eyes. you knew she didn't need to know anything more, "that's a conversation for another day." she gave you a little pout before she went back to the paper she was doing.

tutoring yizhou wasn't so bad. you'd rather not admit it, but you were starting to like the sessions. she cracked a few jokes here and there, sometimes spilled some hot tea about others which you never paid much mind to.

yizhou usually only spilled tea with her bestfriends, not with any student. but you weren't just some student for her, you were her friend. friends share tea, that's all, she thought.

she became even more nosy than she already was in her friend minjeong's opinion, why? she wouldn't answer. she noticed how you held eye contact when she ranted, albeit you didn't give any reactions other than nods and hums, she still liked it.

yizhou liked having your undivided attention. she chalked it up to her ego as you rarely gave anyone attention and you giving her just that made her ego jump. well her heart raced too, but you'll catch her dead actually acknowledging it at the moment.

"that's a gorgeous dress!" she exclaimed when she saw the little dress you drafted mindlessly. your eyes widened a fraction, your arm quickly covering the drawing, gulping your nerves down.

she wasn't supposed to see that. yizhou's brows furrowed when she saw your arm move to cover the dress. "it's nothing, focus on your test." you quickly ordered the chinese, your tone too precise, too calculated, as if you'd been in this situation before.

she didn't push it, opting to continue her work, though her mind was now occupied with many aswerless questions. what was wrong about doodling? maybe it was wrong for someone like you.

yizhou knew one thing was certain from the many more study sessions that followed after the dress drawing incident. you were secretive, and you were good at being secretive, also just as good at appearing perfect.

you were always the neat and perfect you. your image started to feel like it had been crafted carefully, like you'd spent years planning who to be seen as. you were strategic; every responce, answer and even laugh sounded as if it'd been planned out.

yizhou was starting to think you were a robot. she knew it wasn't true of course, but you intrigued her. you made her think so hard about you. aeri once said to her that she looked like she was stalking you.

she wasn't stalking you, why would she anyway? you just made her want to dig deeper, want to get under the bottom as to why you were so prepared for everything, like you knew every single way any conversation could flow, like you could read the minds of the people and immediately know what their intentions were.

something clicked in her brain when she was doing her homework in her room. you were mostly good at being flawless in every way— except that day.

the day when you drew the dress, that you hid as soon as she acknowledged it. that moment was a crack in your skillfully constructed persona. the dress was a small piece of who you actually were behind your picture perfect façade.

her pen stopped mid air, the realization sudden and gave her more questions and some answers to her previous ones. she saw your parents once, when they came to pick you up for whatever reason.

she saw the way your eyes darkened, turning more lifeless than they already seemed, almost like a void. your face remained stoic, hands clenched by your sides as your mum gestured for you to get in the car.

you were a puppet.

yeah, exactly! that's who you were. you were a million dollar puppet in the name of the kims' daughter. your mum and dad didn't look at you with anything, no love, no care, just blank.

you were controlled by your parents, one way or another. yizhou didn't like that. she knew she needed to help you, however, she didn't know how. she didn't know how she would break through your hard exterior to see the real you.

──────── ✧✦

slowly but surely, she tried to gather clues. she figured out that whenever your eyes would look around too much, almost as if they were searching for a card to play out of the many you'd prepared, it meant you were caught off guard.

she always payed attention, she tried her hardest to get more knowledge about you, yet with each passing day, the fire to keep searching dimmed.

she'd make a pretty good detective by the way she over-analyzed your every move. you'd make a good criminal by how nicely you portrayed yourself, knowing what to do in every situation while making sure no one caught on to your plan.

which in this setting, is you. what you are like under the puppet costume you were forced into wearing by your parents, according to yizhou's analysis and brainstorming.

she totally wasn't expecting that today she'd get a lot of answers to her previously unanswered questions. she sat on the table you two always studied at, in the far corner of the quiet library.

your attention diverted to the ring of your phone, it was your mum's call. you quickly took it, "i'll be back in a few." you spared her a glance before walking to the back exit of the library so you could talk without disturbing anyone.

yizhou nodded and went back to her work, she knew it would take a little time as it was your mum's call, she saw the caller id for a split second, she was getting observant.

the call was to inform you about a party they're hosting in honor of a new deal they just got and you needed to be there. you were taken aback, you were usually not to attend the parties.

your mum's sharp voice stated you needed to talk to the son of the opposite party they just made the deal with and hinted at a potential romantic arrangement between you two if things went according to plan, in her words.

you were infuriated to say the least; first she commanded you to attend a party, which she knew you hated, and second she was suggesting an arranged relationship. great.

the conversation ended on a terrible note, with your mum's loud orders and your quiet protests. what you said never mattered to her anyway, so now, you had a party to attend.

meanwhile, yizhou tied her hair up in a ponytail to prevent her hair from being a distraction because of the flowing wind. she yawned, tired from studying but she needed better grades, meaning she had no choice but to push through.

a few pages of your diary that you always kept near you flipped, an envelope and many pages slipping out, using the air as a medium to travel.

she shouldn't have snooped and violated your privacy, but with her recent tendencies of being overly nosy and her quest of unraveling your outer demeanor made her unconsciously reach out for the envelope and pages.

the pages— they confirmed her claim, they were a confirmation that you did indeed like drawing and fashion. she smirked knowingly seeing the countless suits, dresses, skirts, purses and pants.

the envelope— was something she didn't expect. her fingertips trailed over the edges of the envelope before she opened the flap. yizhou took out the stack of neatly arranged paper sheets covered in sketches.

sketches of her. kim y/n, the untouchable it-girl, drew sketches of her: ning yizhou, a sassy chinese transfer student.

was she dreaming?

her mouth was agape, confusion evident on her face and like with every interaction she had with you before, more questions arised that appeared to have no answer.

she saw an opportunity come to light in her mind, this could be her ticket to getting you to open up. she pretended to do her work whilst she waited for you.

you emerged from the door you went out from, eyes somehow darker than they already were, the formerly dark brown had been substituted by a gloomier, almost raven colour.

it was only when you sat down and looked forward did you see the opened envelope, numerous sketches and a yizhou who looked at you with a what is this? face like she was waiting for you to give an appropriate explanation.

"why did you snoop in my personal diary?" you didn't mean to sound so fed up, except the conversation you had prior with your mum played with your mind and the anger seeped out.

yizhou looked perplexed, "the pages and envelope flew out and i got curious." now that she thought about it, she had opened the envelope without consent.

"why are there so many sketches of me and clothing?" she got straight to point. the complexity of the situation really sunk in, there was no way to successfully cover up the fact that you loved fashion.

"that's none of your business, yizhou." you said her name for the first time. your tone was harsh, but the way her name flowed on your tongue? what was she thinking about?

you reached out to take the pages from yizhou who resisted, keeping them in a tight hold. "you can tell me. i promise i won't tell anyone!" she was not going to back down.

"this isn't something you should worry about. do your work." your voice was laced with authority and demand, which she'd normally obey though she had other plans right now.

"i want answers, y/n. don't change the topic." yizhou narrowed her eyes, looking up at you through her lashes. telling just one person won't be wrong, right?

you stayed still, contemplating every way this could play out like you did for every situation. yizhou noticed how your eyes moved around, she knew you were trying to make a decision in your mind.

she should really become a detective. was yizhou really trustworthy? you thought, you could make up an excuse right now but you'll have to come back at some point to tutor her.

you'd under no circumstances let your guard down and told anyone about your ambitions before. you were the perfect daughter of the kim's after all, your life had been planned out long before you were born. you had an path established by your parents to follow.

you let out a deep sigh, realistically speaking, what more could you do? you began from the start, from your dreams since you were little to become a fashion designer.

how your dreams were crushed over and over again, how you never had friends growing up as friends are distractions, how you had no choice but to comply to your parents' wishes.

her jaw was wide open, heart clenching as you told her how your hope and spark for having your own brand dulled, no longer having enough will power to fight back for what you love.

now, you just sketched in your free time and did what your parents wanted you to. you were just a pawn in their game of business, power and status.

yizhou was speechless, this was it. the truth she'd been hunting for the last month, her questions were answered and her heart, it was broken. she knew you weren't doing the best by your permanent gloomy eyes, yet she didn't expect it to be so upsetting.

now that she knew who you were, she wanted to help you. she wanted you to feel confident in your skills and believe in your passion. you shouldn't stop dreaming because they don't align with your parents' vision according to her.

"what if i help you?" she blurted out, only thinking about what she said when your brows furrowed, "help me in what?" you asked back. "you shouldn't give up your dreams!"

"what's gonna happen if i, let's say, actually do try reaching out to brands and showing them my designs?" you questioned, procrastination was your bestfriend and it showed.

"if they have functioning eyes, they will realize how your designs are amazing and offer you a deal, obviously!" she held up some of the pages, talking like she was stating facts.

you looked at her as if she was crazy, "there are so many ways i could be rejected and fail with this strategy." the word failure was hated upon in your dictionary as being first was always the goal for your parents.

"so? you will fall countless times and you should get up every time and learn from the fall and utilize the mistake so that you don't make it again. failing isn't bad, it's a necessary part of the journey of success."

her words stuck in your mind, they were the complete opposite of what you heard growing up. "you.. you sound too optimistic. the world isn't sunshine and rainbows; we don't live in a fantasy, this is reality where the concept of a happily ever after doesn't exist."

"your mentality needs a lot of fixing. i'm not too optimistic, you have the skill, your designs are unique and pretty. this isn't fantasy, yes i agree, but that doesn't mean you can't have a happily ever after, some don't have it but i believe you can!"

you didn't understand. why was she fighting you on this? what's her ulterior motive? there must be one, no one helps you without having a motive beneficial to them.

"you're talking nonsense. the world is dark, yizhou. your perception of the world needs a reset." your fury from earlier made your words colder and ruder, yizhou couldn't help but let a scoff slip out.

"you sound very full of yourself, y/n. i hope you do realize you're talking like how i expect your terrible parents to sound." her final sentence echoed in your brain and you stilled.

"infact, your perspective is extremely dark and dull. the world is dull but it's on you to find things to make your world colourful."

you didn't utter a word, processing the opinion. your mind went back to the rough retorts you'd spat to yizhou— recognizing the sole focus on the negativity of a topic, fixating on the cons and none of the pros, you were talking like your parents.

you never thought you'd ask such a bizarre, for you, question to anyone, yet here you were, in the library with a student you were supposed to tutor who you just told your whole life story to, asking her, "what do i do?"

yizhou's eyes lit up and a little smile made its way to her lips, "i think you should start giving your designs to major brands and collaborating with them, and at the same time slowly build your brand, plan it out, and we'll go from there."

her thought process made sense, although you weren't sure if you'd be able to do this, "this sounds good in theory, nevertheless i can't help but doubt if i have my ability to pull this off."

yizhou stood up, walking around the table and taking a seat beside you. she took both of your hands, "trust me, you can do it! i believe in you." her eyes held sincerity and warmth, a look you weren't at all used to.

"why? why do you believe me?" you muttered, voice barely audible. she smiled, "because i'm your friend, i know how you are. i know you're capable of achieving your dreams, you have that spark in you; you just need to ignite it and produce a fire."

you looked down, lips curving into a faint smile, this is what having friends is like? you actually made a real friend? "you think so?" you asked, eyes holding hesitation.

yizhou had the most hopeful grin on her face. this was the first time you'd completely let your guard down, let her lower the walls you'd mentally built around yourself. "yeah." she said.

──────── ✧✦

six months. it'd been six months since mission: freedom, named by yizhou, started. many things happened during the six months: you'd collaborated with many brands and your own was pretty much planned out, only a little more preparing as well as pulling some strings were pending.

you were condemned to around three or four dinners with your parents' business partner's son, park jihoon, which you reluctantly went to. the latter just didn't pick up on your super obvious hints that you didn't like the meetings or him.

you were now a part of yizhou's friend group, you refused to meet them at first but with her pout and cat eyes, you were left no choice. you considered all four of them your friends now.

if you'd told your self from half a year ago that you'd have four friends and a good career plan, she would've cringed and rolled her eyes internally, saying "stop talking fakery."

maybe the one above didn't like seeing you happy, you thought as you sat across from jihoon with your and his parents present, talking about the potential engagement of you two.

you wanted to dissappear. you wanted to just run away and hangout with yizhou, she was all that was on your mind. you two had gotten close. she always had your back, always there when you needed her.

she made you realize it's okay to depend on someone and not bottle up your emotions. she warped your perception of the world, showing you the colours and joys of adventure and exploration.

"y/n." your mum snapped her fingers, making you snap out of the spiral of thoughts in your head, "yes?" you straightened, looking forward to see jihoon give you a shy smile.

you now knew he picked up the hints you gave but chose to ignore them and live in delusion that you liked him when you hated as much as sparing him a little glance.

"you are happy with this decision, right?" the look your dad gave you was enough for you to know the question was only here to serve as a formality and the answer you were supposed to give was a yes.

you gulped, head starting to hurt. every time yizhou told you to rebel against them played like a broken record in you mind, however much you tried to suppress them, they didn't budge.

you nodded, knowing your words weren't on your side and you'd say something you'd regret later. your mum held a practiced smile which didn't reach her eyes, same with your dad.

jihoon and his parents were overjoyed, meaning you were the only person not actually approving of this arrangement. you wished the ground would swallow you up.

jihoon soon left with his parents, not before giving you a wink and sly grin. you gave a blank smile and immediately stood up, taking a beeline for your room as soon as they left.

you didn't know when the tears started flowing down your cheeks. you didn't know when you jumped out of your window, still in the elegant light blue dress you wore along with your plain flats.

you weren't sure where you were headed, your feet walked on accord of your heart, not your mind. you were accustomed to disregarding what your heart suggested, opting to be logical, never letting your feeling get a hold of you, but you'd changed since then.

you ended up at the door of yizhou and aeri's shared dorm, cheeks stained in tears and bottom lip quivering. you hurriedly wiped your cheeks, trying to rid them of the dried tears the best you could.

after a few knocks by you, a drained yizhou opened the door. her eyes were as wide as saucers when she took in your dolled up but tear stained and bummed self.

she didn't say anything and instead firstly ushered you inside, locking the main door behind her. she guided you to her room, gesturing to aeri who sat on the couch with a wide mouth at your appearance that she'll tell her later.

yizhou sat you down, giving you a cup of water and then sitting down on her bed with you. "so, what happened?" she asked, tone laced with worry, bottom lip in hostage of her teeth.

you told her everything that went down hours ago, she was flabbergasted. she thought these dinners you went to weren't serious and were just there to make sure your parents were occupied so that mission: freedom didn't face any problems.

"why did you agree?" she shrieked, fury swirled in her, each sentence that left your mouth only feuled the rage. "what could i do?" you had your head in your hands, it felt like your head on the verge of exploding.

she knew what she was about to say was dumb. so dumb. incredulously dumb. though it sounded the best and most logical, she didn't like seeing you upset like this because your parents can't stand to see their daughter happy.

"how about you run away?"

your head snapped to her, your gaze saying are you serious right now? she clapped her hands, "listen, you have a ton of inheritance money right?" she asked, mentally fitting the pieces of your puzzle of life.

you nodded. you were given a hefty allowance and had inherited a great sum from your grandparents from both sides, you had your own bank account that included all the cash.

"you go back, pack your clothes, tell your parents that you don't want to marry that jiyeon-jihoon whatever his name is, we both know they'll disagree. then you say i've had enough of being your doll, i'm leaving and shit. after all that, you leave and stay with me, i'll arrange everything here."

she said it so nonchalantly like she didn't just tell you to get yourself disowned. "i don't know if i can talk back to them. also i don't want to burden you." you'd never done anything out of line, you were always doing what they wanted you to, always tried to please them, even when you knew they wouldn't say any encouraging words.

nothing was ever enough for them.

"you'll have to, y/n. i know you can do it. i believe in you. and you're not a burden, don't think of yourself that way." she squeezed your shoulder encouragingly. "you do, but i don't believe in myself, ning."

"don't worry, i'll have enough faith in you for the both of us!" yizhou giggled and leaned in to give you a warm hug. your hands hesitantly wrapped around her. you'd only gave eachother a hug a few times before, each time a little less awkward than the last.

you pulled away, muttering a "okay, i'll do it." she looked at you, eyes having an unreadable expression. you couldn't register when she leaned in, realizing she just kissed your forehead when a strand of her hair tickled your cheek.

"i know you have it in you, my star."

the nickname sounded almost melodic, like a symphony you'd instantly fell in love with. "my star?" you asked, tilting your head. an overwhelmingly lovely feeling bloomed in yizhou's chest at the sight.

she hoped her cheeks weren't flushed or if they were, you didn't notice, "like the nickname?" you nodded, a bright smile on your face. the upcoming storm you could feel brewing didn't matter at all when yizhou was here with you.

"i'll get going now." you said and stood up, smoothing your dress our of habit. "nice dress." she said, you giving her a shy thank you in return, you were never good with compliments, having not received many by the people you cared most about in your upbringing.

you gave aeri a wave on your way out, her reciprocating the gesture with a smile. you didn't mention the kiss nor did yizhou when you left. she hoped you wouldn't ask, as she didn't know why she did that either.

you took the few pairs of clothes you actually liked wearing, leaving the closet still more than half full which were all the clothes your parents made you wear.

you packed your bag, a million thoughts and possibilities running through your head. should you really do this? should you burden yizhou? you wanted to think of every outcome, but you resisted, you needed to think of the future, you were not going to marry jihoon.

you changed into regular blue jeans and a white button up, slinging your bag around your shoulder after stuffing your phone, charger and a few essentials in the bag.

you composed yourself, your nerves were slowly getting to you, anxiety creeping up in your body. you thought of the freedom you'd started wishing for that you'd finally have after this and descended the stairs.

your mum and dad were both on the couch, discussing something amongst themselves when you stood infront of them. their attention diverted to you. your mum gave you a distasteful look as she eyed your outfit.

"what is this?" your dad asked, his deep voice ringing in your ears. you took a deep breath, repeating the sentence in your head before you spoke it out loud, "i don't want to marry jihoon."

the silence that followed the blatant statement was suffocating. it was like they were waiting for you to take back your words or say that you actually meant i do want to marry jihoon.

"what?" your mum broke the tense atmosphere. "i said i'm against this arranged marriage." you repeated your words, more confidently this time.

"i hope you're aware of what you're saying, y/n." your dad said, you could see through him, through his eyes which appeared their usual brown but had underlying greed.

your dad wasn't happy as this could break his deal, not because his daughter is going against him, against his morals. that's when it hit you like a punch in the gut, you really were just a moneymaker they were investing in by giving you the title of their daughter.

the years of bitter words you'd kept hidden about them and their unbothered gazes now were enough to break the little patience you had.

your mum stood up and walked over to you, "you will be his wife." you gritted your teeth, you were done. they were no one to treat you like this, you were done with tolerating their narcissistic, greedy and self-absorved selves.

"i'm done being the picture-perfect daughter you want me to be. i will not marry him and i certainly won't give up my dreams to follow your path and become equally as terrible as you are."

you wanted to say more, wanted to voice your frustration you'd skillfully hid for years, yet your flow was broken by your mum's hand meeting your cheek. your head whipped to the side, mouth agape.

"since you've learned to talk back and be an ungrateful brat, you'll learn to live as an orphan." your mum spat out. you neither replied nor cried, you weren't fazed by being a disappointment in their eyes anymore.

"leave, you're not my daughter." your father ended the conversation and you nodded. your mum huffed, "enjoy being a nobody, you're nothing without us."

you scoffed, a smirk on your face as you spoke, "good challenge, i'd love to prove your controlling bitchy self wrong." you didn't say anything further, you didn't wait for them to talk either.

you walked out the main door, leaving your twisted parents and past behind, ready to embrace everything you loved and cherished.

the feeling of freedom spread through your veins, it felt like you'd escaped from your personal prison that you'd lived in since you were born.

yizhou and aeri both welcomed you with open arms when you reached their dorm for the second time that night. you gave them a tired smile and thanked the two profusely.

yizhou had placed blankets and a few pillows on the couch, "i'll be sleeping here, you'll sleep in my room." your brows furrowed, "what do you mean you're going to sleep on the couch?"

"it's just for this night, i talked to jimin she'll arrange a bunk bed on top of mine in my room tomorrow." she talked like it was the most normal thing to sleep on the couch.

well, it was for her. for you? terrible, something you'd not done before and you couldn't stand to see her sleep there for you. "no, it's your dorm, i'll sleep on the couch."

past you would've rather died than have said that.

"what, no! you're not sleeping there!" she exclaimed, aeri just shot a knowing glance to yizhou, who glared at her. "how about you two sleep in the same bed, it's not that small."

aeri's voice brought a little pause of silence. yizhou spoke, "yeah, i don't mind. we can if you're okay with it, star." the assertive sentence paired with the nickname made your mind go blank for a second.

you didn't want her to sleep there and she didn't want you to sleep there whatsoever, the only other thing was for you two to sleep together as you didn't like the idea of her or you going to sleep with aeri too.

"okay." you said, running your hand through your hair in an attempt to camouflage the heat on your cheeks. you tried but aeri saw the redness on your ears and smirked to herself.

"it's settled then, good night you two, i'm off." aeri teasingly winked at yizhou, which went unbeknownst to you. she took the blankets and you took the pillows. you trailed behind yizhou to her room.

you two layed down, turning off the lamp, darkness enveloping the room. yizhou was exhausted and slept in the matter of a few minutes maximum and you were still wide awake.

your mind referred back to the hours prior, the little part of you that still loved them resurfaced even though you tried to bury it, tears were welling up in your eyes.

you wiped them with your hand, you did what you did for your future. you were now free, you didn't need to be flawless or perfect anymore; you could be you.

──────── ✧✦

a year. the earth had completed a full revolution around the sun since you left your then house. your inherited money and the money you got from your collaborations were enough for you to live without having to work another job.

in the past year, you graduated two years earlier, at the same time as aeri and jimin. you also officially started your own brand, named luciscura.

the word meant the light born from the shadows. it represented you, how you used to live in a dark world, in your parents' shadows and how with yizhou, you shined, you saw your own potential and turned your world vivid.

yizhou was in her third year and minjeong was in her last year. you still helped yizhou whenever she needed help in physics while you worked on your brand.

luciscura was a rapidly growing clothing brand, known for its chic, timeless and diverse style. the brand sold classy dresses, grunge pants, tops, bags, heels, everything anyone could think of.

you never ran out of ideas when it came to fashion. you were also quite popular on Instagram, known as the young and rich ceo and fashion designer on social media.

your instagram had a large following, though you only posted once every month. you were loved by everyone, like you were in university, but this time it was different.

everyone loved who you were, not the perfect image you presented of yourself in uni. you liked it that way. you'd also moved into a new appartment.

after aeri and jimin graduated, leaving yizhou and minjeong, the two started living in one dorm. aeri, an art major, was now one of the models of luciscura and jimin, a fashion design major, was also a part of your team.

the two loved working with you, you'd practically became one of them now, you proudly referred to them as your bestfriends. you were still quiet and preferred your small circle of friends.

you loved the new life you'd made for yourself. you were as content as you could be in the moment. you did face struggles still, regarding your brand and your parents.

your parents tried to meddle in your brand and sabotage it, however, as it goes— cunning parents raise even more cunning children, you didn't fall into their trap, it wasn't easy to fight against their corporation that had been there for generations, but you gave it your all.

you fought for luciscura, the brand you'd spent blood, sweat and tears making. jihoon sometimes dropped by your office too, in the name of a business deal and you did merely that, treated the meeting like you would a business meeting, though he tried to chat with you.

he tried to ask you out and you disagreed to his face, you told him you never liked him. he blew up, saying he liked you better when you were kinder. you said too bad. she's gone now.

many other fashion brands tried to get in your way, but what they didn't know was the fact that you were incredibly smart and strategizing was second nature to you. they posed a threat, you bit back, hard.

no matter what situation you were in, yizhou was there by your side. in the lows and the highs, when you were stressed or overjoyed, she was there. she was always there.

she never lost faith in you. you lost faith in yourself, but she didn't. she reminded you of how far you've come, how proud she was of you. she was there for you whenever you needed her.

you thought she did so because she was your bestfriend, and it made you mad at yourself for feeling the way you felt. you hated how much you liked, heck maybe even loved yizhou.

it was your birthday. you didn't even remember it, only apprehending you'd turned twenty one when yizhou walked in, cake in her hands. she looked at you like you were a alien when you told her you didn't know why she had a cake with her.

"you know, you're the first person i've seen who doesn't remember their birthday, star." she shook her head in disapproval. you shrugged with a smile, making her roll her eyes playfully.

"happy birthday, my star." she wished you, feeding you a piece of the cake she'd made herself, it was a little too sweet for you but you talked about it as if it was the best thing you'd tasted in your life.

"what's my gift?" you asked, tilting your head. she couldn't help but giggle, looking endearingly at you. she always referred to you as the gentle giant, as you were the tallest out of you five but with her, you were the most gentle and caring person.

"close your eyes," she began. you complied, she waved her hand infront of your eyes, checking to see if your eyes were actually closed. once she was sure, she bit her lip.

what she was about to do would either make her the happiest girl in the world or ruin the most ethereal friendship she's had in her entire life of twenty one and a half years.

she stood on her tippy toes, her hands cupping your face. you didn't know what was happening, you could feel her breath ghosting on your lips. yizhou leaned in, connecting her lips with yours.

you gasped, you didn't know what to do, you hadn't kissed anyone before. she knew the fact and swiped her thumb over your cheek encouragingly, making you slowly relax in her hold.

your hands hesitantly rested on her waist. you eventually got a hang of it, following the rhythm she'd set. she pulled away, butterflies dancing in her stomach and you hoped she didn't hear your heart which was racing a mile a minute.

"so, how's the present?" she asked breathlessly, her hands looping around your neck. "the best i've ever gotten." you giggled, letting your head fall in the crook of her neck, inhaling her intoxicating scent.

her scent filled up your senses, overwhelming you in the most amazing way. "i love you, my star." you didn't know how to reply to her confession.

it seemed like she sensed your difficulty in expressing yourself, "it's okay, you don't have to confess right now, i'll wait for you." she twirled a strand of your hair.

"i, i love.. i love you too." you said, you voice was muffled but she heard it. her mind went haywire then and there, she needed to hear the sentence from you again.

she cupped your face again, pulling you out of the position you were in, "say that again, please." the way she asked so gently and how her hold was so soft and delicate, it was like she feared you'd break if she held you too hard.

your cheeks were dusted bright pink, ears also red, "i said, i love you." she kissed you again. and again, and another time. she couldn't get enough of you.

the night was enchanting, knowing she loved you the way you loved her, you couldn't be happier. your heart felt elated, contented, it was a feeling you hadn't experienced before.

at some point, slowly but surely, luciscura grew, flourishing into one of the mainstream brands. yizhou at last graduated and it'd now been two years since you two started dating.

you were pleased. you were living your dream life. you were the ceo of one of the most iconic and popular fashion brands, luciscura; you had three beatfriends you'd never forget and you had the love of your life, yizhou.

somewhere along the way, jimin and minjeong began dating while aeri was happy with her single, model life. you couldn't wish for anything more than what you had.

you wouldn't trade your loved ones and luciscura for the world. your parents now wanted you back, but you knew better, they just wanted your money.

jihoon also tried to chase you, you had enough of it and one such time, kissed yizhou infront of him. that was enough to shut him up and get him off of you.

you and yizhou moved in together into a new appartment. she now ran a bakery along with minjeong. it was close to luciscura, which made it easier for you and jimin to visit yizhou and minjeong in between little breaks.

"happy second year anniversary, my darling." you kissed yizhou and gestured for her to look at your queen sized bed, filled to the brim with boxes.

you handed her a bouquet of silk ribbon roses you'd made yourself, "made this myself, all for you." she was lovestruck. she jumped into your arms, you twirling her around, your and her giggles mixing and filling the room.

"you're the best, i love you so much, happy anniversary!" yizhou pulled you in with the collar of your shirt with one hand while the other held the bouquet after you set her down.

she kissed you passionately, your hands already on her hips, lost in the feeling. "thank you so much, my star." she kissed you all over your face, making you giggle more.

"no, i should thank you. all that i am, it's all because of you, i'm nothing without you, my darling." you left a lingering kiss on her forehead before you pecked her again, your foreheads touching.

the day was perfect, you knew that if you'd told the y/n who was still in her first year three and a half years ago that this would be her life, she'd actually cry.

you would forever be thankful to your darling, your yizhou, for coming up to you after failing her physics exam. if it weren't for her being new and not knowing better, you wouldn't have been here.

your love for yizhou was everlasting. she was the love of your life, she taught you something no one else could. she taught you the act of loving in return.

ning yizhou taught you redamancy.

you showed her the most dreamy and ethereal example of redamancy you knew— the love you sacred in your heart for her.

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working the night shift at a 24 hour convenience store has a good share of benefits. hell, you'd even go so far as to say you enjoy it.

the work is easy enough—keep stock of and sign for new deliveries, clean up any major messes and help out the occasional confused customer.

not that there were many customers in the first place at 3.02 AM. it was pretty much just you and nishimura riki, coworker and professional top shelf item getter, all alone in the fluorescent-lit store.

he's in the back, currently, leaving you to man the counter alone. something about how he "can't handle one more party of giggling drunks. or worse, a sleep-deprived college student."

the night is rather still, though.

you send some texts, scroll through tiktok, glance out towards the random guy pacing outside, debate with yourself the moral ethics of stealing expired snacks. just the usual.

...

huh.

that guy wasn't there before.

you put your phone down, peering over the counter slightly to try and gauge what he's up to. being a seasoned night-shift taker, it wasn't as if strange guys in the parking lot were anything unusual to you.

but today, something seemed a little off. his posture was just a little too sluggish; the shadows draping his stature a little too awkward.

looking directly at him felt wrong. unnatural.

then, as if feeling your gaze boring into him, the man's footsteps halt momentarily before he audibly shuffles against the asphalt ground, the sound unsettling in the way it echoes into the night. he turns, facing the automatic gates.

... they don't open.

you don't think twice of it, though. the functioning of the sensor is questionable, at it's best. your store manager, yang jungwon, has been saying he'll "get it fixed" for almost 3 months now.

you're almost about to venture out yourself—help out the poor guy, do your good deed of the day—and press the button which would open the door, but before you get the chance, ..

thud, thud, thud.

the man is now banging the door with both hands like he's forgotten all social norms of visiting a store after midnight.

you can finally gauge his features.

the olive hue facing you is not reassuring.

your midnight guest seems horribly sick. and, oh god—this cannot be happening to you—something dark seems to be oozing from a grizzly gash on his neck and staining his shirt a dark color.

ketchup? you hope with all that you have in you that it's just ketchup.

(except ... ketchup doesn't quite look that ominous. nor does it dry quite that thickly.)

the glass doors shudder again as the man bangs his fists harder this time. shelves by the dairy section rattle in response, just as loud.

"christ, what is it now?," riki's voice echoes from the back, "i thought jungwon told you to stop trying to break shelves when you're bored."

he sounds amused, if a little annoyed at the implication of having to clean up the potential mess you could have caused.

your coworker walks out with a hand running through his hair, eyes still fixed on his phone screen. completely unconcerned.

"riki."

"yeah, yeah. i'll help you put the shelves back."

"riki."

"no, i'm not lying to jungwon again he was pissed enough at me last time, he even threatened to—"

riki finally looks up, gaze almost bored.

before it isn't.

he pauses, regarding the sight in front of him.

"who the fuck is that?"

you let out a breath you hadn't known you were holding, "some guy. he's been out there for .. for some time now."

"is he—why is he green?"

you just shrug in response, utterly at a loss for explanations.

the store has never felt as large as it does in the moment. you're quiet, and so is he. as if your silence will somehow make the man back off.

"we," riki's voice cuts through lowly, "we should help him. right?"

no.

no.

the refusal is ready on the tip of your tongue yet saying it out loud feels too real. so, you just shake your head.

another thud sounds. harder this time, like the glass is barely holding.

you feel much too aware of how thin those doors really are; how wide the windows at the sides. how nothing in the store is built to keep something out.

"he seems hurt." riki begins, uncertain yet fixed.

you shake your head no again, "he'd have said something. called for help, yelled at us—something."

he doesn't really listen, though, as he walks closer to the door.

everything in you tells you to make him stop but before you can scream, the words get lodged in your throat.

"sir?"

the man pauses his assault on the doors. for a second, there's only the faint of hum of the refrigerators ringing in your ears.

"do you need help? would you like me to help you in?"

the outsider's head snaps toward the sound—sudden, sharp. towards riki's voice.

his mouth opens wider than humanly possible. a guttural groan—loud, grating—curls in, and it feels like a tangible weight is pulling you down, its reverberations sinking into your very skin and bones.

"hey," you manage to choke out shakily, "don't—"

the man lunges forward this time, slamming his entire weight into the glass doors. not blindly aggressive, but with intent and focus.

you feel your heart practically slamming against your ribs. you don't even know when you start walking, but you're at riki's side soon enough, grabbing onto his sleeve as you pull him back. "back. back, now."

your feet scramble to return to your original position, behind the counter—just to put as much space between you and that man as possible.

another violent thud shakes the entrance.

you have to do something. fast.

"the—" your mouth is dry. you swallow, fingers still clutching onto riki's shirt. "the manager's office. jungwon said the landline there works. we have to call for help. the .. these doors will only hold for so long."

riki, though dazed, recovers fast to his credit.

"too risky," he says, already shaking his head. "we can't be sitting ducks, waiting for someone to save us—what makes you think they'd even believe you?"

you begin to protest, before he quickly adds. "the storage room's better. we grab whatever's usable—they'd have bats or some fucking shit down there, yeah? the guy won't know what hit him."

you have two choices. neither without risk, but neither without benefit.

one look at riki tells you he'd be agreeable enough if you do decide to argue for your idea.

you don't know which one could potentially get you killed but you do know you only have seconds to decide.

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HEESEUNG

heeseung lifts your chin slowly, fingers warm and steady against your skin.

he tilts your face until your eyes meet his, and his voice drops into something soft—yet you can’t seem to ignore it. “hey,” he murmurs, thumb brushing the side of your jaw before he whispers, “don’t look away from me when i’m talking to you.” a faint smile tugs on your lips at the proximity, your tummy fluttering at his insistence of keeping eye contact

“there you go.. much better.” his gaze stays locked on yours, reveling in the small twitches of your flustered expression. “love when you get all flustered like that,” he whispers, keeping your chin tilted slightly higher than necessary, like he wants you exactly where he’s positioned you.

JAY

jay pulls you closer by the waist with a controlled, confident grip, stopping mid-sentence just to tug you into his bubble.

“come here,” he says, voice relaxed, “i can’t hear you from all the way there.” though, you weren’t far at all, and the way he looks at you makes that obvious. his hand stays at your waist, thumb distractedly tracing slow circles against the fabric of your shirt.

“that’s better,” he hums quietly, pressing his forehead against yours while keeping his arms looped around your waist. your breath falters as you're practically millimeters apart. “now say it again, i’m listening.” the small smirk that curls onto his lips makes it painfully clear that he didn’t need to hear you.. he just wanted you closer.

JAKE

jake spots you wearing your new skirt and freezes, eyebrows lifting before he lets out a low, appreciative whistle.

“hmm,” he hums under his breath, dragging out the sound like he needs a second to process what he’s seen, “you look pretty..” before he beams, tilting his head. “suits you, pretty girl.” he walks closer to you in a few strides, eyes tracing the outline of the skirt before meeting your gaze again

“did you wear this for me?” he teases, voice soft yet groggy, which is typical when he speaks lowly. “n-no..” you mumble, nervously grabbing at the hem of your skirt. he laughs under his breath, stepping even closer until your lips are inches apart from meeting. “you sure, princess?” his hand brushes your thigh lightly, just to feel the fabric and quietly appreciate how shy you get when all dolled-up for him.

SUNGHOON

sunghoon lifts your hair gently, fingers brushing your neck before he leans in to press a slow, warm kiss to the skin there.

“mm.. you always smell so nice,” he murmurs, voice muffled against your neck, causing you to slightly shiver. he places another kiss, this one being lower and lingering a little longer. then he presses another one, softer but still enough to make you hum

his hand rests on the small of your back, subtly guiding you toward him as he keeps kissing along your neck. “you okay?” he asks quietly, even though he knows full well what he’s doing to you. you softly nod, and he smiles against your skin before whispering, “good. cause i’m not stopping.”

SUNOO

sunoo tucks his face into your neck without warning, letting out a soft sigh like he’s been waiting to do it since forever.

“you’re so warm,” he mumbles, voice soft and sleepy against your skin as his breath fans it. his arms slide around your waist, pulling you flush against him as he nuzzles deeper. “don’t move, please..” he says, squeezing you gently, “wanna stay here.”

the puffs from his words send a shiver down your spine, fingers absentmindedly tangling in his hair and gently massaging his scalp. “gosh, you always smell nice,” he adds, half talking to himself. he shifts again, cheek now resting fully against you. “so can i sleep here?”

JUNGWON

jungwon steps into your proximity with a silent confidence, blocking you with his tall, lean build and a soft smile that tells you he’s not moving.

“where are you going?” he asks, tilting his head. you try to sidestep him and whine, “move, won!” but he mirrors the movement with zero effort, huddling you back until your hips tap the counter behind you. he places one hand beside you on the marble, then the other, caging you in without even touching you.

“you didn’t say hi,” he says calmly, almost teasingly as his eyes drop to your lips before flicking back up. he leans in slowly, close enough to hear your breath hitch. “should i come get my hello,” he whispers, “or are you gonna give it to me?” when you finally kiss him, he smiles against your lips like he knew you would.

NIKI

niki's palm catches your waist as you try to walk past him from a conversation, pulling you back with ease and a different look in his eyes.

“where do you think you’re going?” he asks, looking at you like you already owe him your full attention. his hand stays firm on your waist, though it’s not in a possesive way—a way that he craves for you to listen to him.

“i was talking to you.” he steps closer, hovering over you as your eyes try to dart away from his. “look at me for a sec,” he says softly, tugging you a little closer until your chests nearly touch. when you finally meet his gaze, he smirks and tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “there’s my sweet girl.”

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